All language subtitles for Rapaces.2025.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.BZ]

Good morning, madam.

Good morning.

I must say it's truly splendid here.

Ah, thank you.

And the smell is wonderful.

Right, I'll have
an olive bread.

An olive bread.

And then also
a baguette with toma and walnuts.

There's such a lot to choose from.

Tourteau?

No, that's a brioche

traditional to the area.

We call it "gâteau battu".

I'll take one.

And I've also heard about a local cheese,

Rollot, is that right?

Exactly, Rollot from Picardy.

It's here.

The Rollot from Picardy was apparently the favourite cheese

of Louis XIV.

Well, we'll trust that then.

Give me one.

A Rollot.

I was here a few months ago,

there was a rather elderly gentleman,
quite stout too.

That must have been the owner.

A very nice person,

we had
a really good chat.

Send him my regards.

Unfortunately,
the owner passed away.

Oh, really?

What happened?

Look.

He hanged himself.

Shut up.

Did she tell you that?

They haven't had time to redecorate yet.

She wanted to sleep with me.

Did she tell you that?

She sent me photos.

Then we met.

The way she looked at me,
her smile.

And the fact
that she was only 13...

Did it never occur to you:

"She doesn't know what he's doing, I should be the responsible one"?

She told me she was 16,
and I believed her.

She sent me the photos,
I didn't ask for anything.

That's how it works now,
times have changed.

I don't think I was the first.

Even at 16...
doesn't the age difference bother you?

Well, no.

In other words,

you don't understand
what you're accused of today?

Not really, no.

I see, it's a surprise,
you haven't done anything wrong.

I... don't think so, no.

I mean...

And does it happen often

that you meet minors
and make advances to them?

Once or twice,
no more.

I...

We'll suspend the hearing here
for a lunch break.

But first,
my dear sir, allow me:

if, as you say,
times have changed,

then you are an exception.

Resuming at 2:30 PM.

Bloody hell, your client's a genius!

What an idiot, I'd even coached him.

He's dug his own grave.

I have an appointment with Spagiani.
Will you let me know the verdict?

-I'll text you.
-Thanks.

Police section.

A young girl found in a field.

In this morning's Voix du Nord.

Yes, so what?

I don't know, give me at least
the bare minimum.

A name, an address.

I'm not the phone book.

Have you got anything for me?

I have to ask.

Then ask.

No, don't worry,
I've got it.

Hello?

Christian, where are you?

Belfort, in a little restaurant,
I've just sat down.

Spagiani's asking me for a case,
have you got anything?

Nothing new.
My client's already in jail.

Try Solveig,
she'll jump on anything.

Do you need anything else
or is everything okay?

No, everything's fine.
The bill.

Right away.

No!

Leave my bag alone! No!

Go away!

Damn it!

Of course, nobody's moving!

-Hello?
-Yes, everything alright?

Do you have any news about the Terrace gang?

No, this is my story.

And I hurt myself
trying to resist.

Solveig, please,
Spagiani is asking me for a case.

Man, you really piss me off.

Solveig... it's for Sam.

It's not fair.

-Everything okay?
-Yes.

-Everything quiet?
-Yes, everything's fine.

-So, have they made the announcement?
-We're waiting for the prefect to arrive.

-He hasn't arrived yet?
-No, we're waiting.

Has anything leaked out?

They kept the employees inside.
Nothing else.

-Last night around 11:30 PM
the young woman finished her shift,

she took her bike to go home,
but she never arrived.

Her identity
has not yet been released.

One thing is certain:

she worked here,
at this Burger King.

-Hi.
-Hey...

How's it going?

Another femicide.

I swear, I can't take any more.

Are you obsessed?

They offered me the programme,
didn't I tell you?

-No.
-Yes.

The morning slot.
Guests, debates, current affairs, the lot.

-The one you wanted.
-Yes, I'm happy.

Great. Congratulations.

-Are you interested?
-In what?

-Joining the team.
-Me?

Oh no, I've already got everything I need.
I love print too much.

The presses, the ink,
the vans at dawn.

Excuse me.

Benoît, did you get
the shots of the place?

I'll take care of it.

While the investigative journalists
work in silence,

the television people,
stupid and disciplined,

wait for us to serve them
ready-made meals.

-Do you have anything?
-I told you, I have what I need.

But I have a life, you know.

Yes, but you know,
we don't do the same job.

Okay. We're arriving, I'll ring the bell,
and what do you say?

Me? Nothing.

Exactly.

What's the girl's name,
again?

Jessica.

Wait, are you serious?
Shhh.

Yes?

Mr. Fresnel?

Yes.

Good morning, my name is Samuel.

I'm a special correspondent,
I'm from Paris.

I would be very pleased to speak with you.

How did you get my address?

I work with the police,
I'm investigating your case.

Can we come in?

Leave me alone, eh?

I have nothing to say.

Sir? I think I know
who killed your daughter.

Excuse me?

On what occasion was this photo taken?

How old was she?

It was for her 15th birthday.

A real young lady.

So...

What do you know?

First, I offer you
my sincerest condolences

and I tell you how sorry I am
for what happened to you.

If I'm here, it's to try
to catch the bastard who did this.

To do that, I need you,
Mr. Fresnel.

I need you to tell me
what you know, you.

If you refuse to talk to me,
I can't do anything on my own.

Who are you?

Marylin.

A friend of Jessica's.

I spoke to her a little while ago,
she insisted on speaking to you.

She's distraught.

Do you know Jessi?

-She works with her at the restaurant.
-At the restaurant?

At Burger King.

It was Jessi
who taught me how to do it.

She was really
kind to me.

Without her,
I don't know if I would have stayed.

You also told me

that she confided in you,
that she talked to you about her future.

My daughter
loves nature.

Plants, flowers.

She knows the names of flowers
by heart.

My daughter is talented,
she's very talented.

I want you to write that down,
so people know.

Of course.

Did she have a boyfriend?
A girlfriend?

In most cases,

the perpetrator of femicide
is a man between 30 and 50 years old,

connected to the victim.

No, I don't think so.

I don't know,
I don't know anymore.

Listen, sir,
I have to ask you this question:

do you know if your daughter
was raped?

All I know
is that they found

her bike
on the side of the road

and she was instead...

further away, in the field.

Disfigured.

-They beat her up?
-They poured acid on her.

To make the body disappear?

No, she was still alive.

She called for help.

Did you listen to the call?

I listened,

but all I hear
is my daughter.

You can hear her screaming.

Do you have that call?

Help!

She told me that…

that she knows who it is, so…

who?

I need to analyse the audio traces.

Verify my sources.

It's nothing, Mr Fresnel.

Was she afraid of forgetting
my daughter's name?

No, not at all,
Mr Fresnel, honestly.

He doesn't give a damn
about my daughter.

I took notes
as best I could,

I had only just arrived on the scene.

Come on, out of here.

-Mr Fresnel, listen to me.
-Go away!

Go away.

There are three or four of them
in a pick-up,

powerful engine, a V8.

More than 200 horsepower.

Why a pick-up?

Because you can't hear
the boot opening.

They know each other, they know what they're doing,

they don't even need
to speak to each other.

Everything's ready,
the jerrycan of acid in the back.

It's premeditated,
they wanted to kill.

Mr Fresnel…

It often happens that we help the police
solve cases.

Because we go
where they never go.

Because we stick our noses where
they wouldn't dare to go.

It's our job.

I'm truly sorry
for what you're going through,

there are no words.

But trust me,
I'll find those bastards.

Damn, we pulled off a good one.

Wait, don't tell me
you stole everything from him.

Talent is when someone
tells you yes

to a question
you haven't even asked.

He gave me everything,
the album, the recording, everything.

Damn, Dad, you can't do that!

You can't do it.

We lied to him
and he believed us.

"Luckily Jessica was there,
otherwise I would have collapsed."

-You're a real bastard.
-You liked it, didn't you?

Huh?
Come on.

-Tell me the truth, you liked it.
-And your “Marilyn”, then.

“Marilyn” has class.

-She was still a girl here.

In the last photos, she's a woman.

She's beautiful.

You're there,
in your childhood bedroom,

playing with dolls.

And one day you walk down the street

and all the men look at you.

You play along,
because you like one of them.

A bit of eyeliner,
a touch of lipstick.

It works on him.
And on all the others too.

You should write that down.

It's a good point of view.

Too personal.

The more personal it is,
the more universal it is.

I don't want to romanticise
Jessica's love life.

I'm not telling you to make it up.

I'm telling you to write true things
from your point of view.

There isn't just one way to do it.

Do you prefer watching a good film
or the 8 o'clock news?

Reading a novel
or an agency report?

On substance,
there's only one rule:

if it's true, it gets published.

But on form,
trust the readers.

It's here, come.

I think I've found
a piece of a headlight!

When you're done,
take the fingerprints!

What's wrong with you?

Not for me, for her.

Hello? I need help,
please!

Lift your head a bit.

It's good to get out a bit, isn't it?

Come on, let's go somewhere warm.

Now is not the time to be difficult.

Hello?

So, your cannibal?

Exactly, I'm in the kitchen.

They haven't cleaned up yet.

You should see the mess.

Why are you whispering?

It's not like I'm going to start singing.

Are you going onto crime scenes now too?

They'll fire you

Wait, I'll put you on speaker.

What's wrong?

The perpetrator had a terminally ill
quadriplegic father.

One morning
he didn't wake up.

And the son...

didn't want to give up
the restaurant, the hotel,

so he didn't declare anything.

But the body had to be disposed of.

And since the son is a chef,
just imagine the rest.

Apparently, the customers enjoyed it.

No, I don't believe it.

What did he cook?

Blanquette,
it's his speciality.

Blanquette of old man.

That's a good one,
it's a great title.

And you're going back to Paris?

No, not yet.
We're travelling.

Who's 'we'?

Ava and I.

Who?

Ava, my daughter.

Ah, and how is she?

Is everything okay between you two
or is she driving you mad?

Hey, she can hear you, be careful.

Damn.

I hope she has
a sense of humour.

We're coming back from a murder
near Tourcoing.

An acid attack,
quite nasty.

Acid is usually for crimes of passion.

Passionate?

I don't think so,
there were several people.

What are you doing there?

Stop! Stop!

Stop or I'll shoot!

I mistook you for a boy.

Everything alright?
I just wanted to scare you.

I assure you, you succeeded.

Good thing
I didn't have my rifle,

otherwise I'd have shot you like a rabbit.

What were you doing here?
My job.

I'm a ghost hunter.

Okay, I'll take this one.

Wow...

Incredible.

Incredible.

-Which newspaper do you work for?
-Détective.

On sale every Wednesday.
Don't miss next week's issue.

Shit, someone's called the cops.

That was me.

Sorry.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

A quick tidy-up
of the desk?

As an excuse?!

Ah, yes.

Acid attack

So, did you sleep well?

I dropped off my internship agreement
at the CF.

I slept for four hours.

Here, take the chair
and tell me what you think.

"When can you say
that a girl's life changes?"

"When, on a spring morning,"

"she discovers a new dance,
strange, unexpected."

"Around her, men,
like vultures waiting."

"Among them,
a boy different from the others."

"To please him, she adds
a touch of makeup to her face,"

"lipstick, eyeshadow… and it works."

"On what she loves,
but also — inevitably…"

"on the other vultures."

So?

-It's beautiful.
-See? I told you.

We can sign it together, if you like.

What is it?

I did some research,
it's for you.

You went to the archives?

It's what they teach us
at school.

-"Patricia Robert, Bailleul."
-Yes.

She died in the same area,
less than two years ago.

Attacked in the street,
tragged into a field.

Look at the bottom of the page.

It's the call to emergency services, may I?
Yes.

Solveig!

Come and see, please!

Why do I always have to come?

Patricia Robert.

-The bank clerk?
- Yes, her.

Attacked with acid,
you didn't tell me anything.

Same modus operandi,
not even 50 km away.

Do you read the articles
or just look at the photos?

Richard Lacombe,
45, unemployed.

He confessed everything:
the alcohol, the accident,

the panic
to get rid of the body.

He got 20 years,
he's in prison now.

Was there anything else?

No?
No, here you go.

Nothing at all?

Good.

Come on, let's get some fresh air.

So, did you end up at the station?

Trespassing.

And those bastards
made me miss the first train.

I didn't have time
to get home.

-Good morning.
-Good morning.

I stink, it's awful.

-Shall we go for lunch, are you coming?
-No, but grab me something.

You don't want to put your phone down?

I'm working.

Oh really?

On what?

She posted every day.

Her whole life is in here.

If the victims
do the work

for us,
there's no merit anymore.

I saw him.

At Burger King.

Laughing with his friends.

His girlfriend disappears

and he's laughing?

He's a teenager.

What if it was them?

You sound like a TV cop.

There are three of them, they know her.

None of them have a driving licence, they're 16,
they're just idiotic kids.

-Why did they kill her?
-Who knows.

Why do people act?

That's what I'm asking you,
why?

We don't care,
it's not our job.

Samuel?

Thanks.

Come on, let's go.

The 'why' is always the same.

Stupidity, jealousy.

And in fact, the real challenge is this:

managing to write something
new each time.

Otherwise you just keep writing
the same article,

change the dates,
the names, a few details.

It's pointless.

Above all, you mustn't
think like a police officer.

They always focus
on the victim.

They study their habits,
the people around them,

and when it's not
the husband or the boyfriend,

they're lost.

So what do we do?

We focus on the culprit.

Why are you interested in Lacombe?

He confessed.

Did he say why he killed her?

Yes, a sudden impulse,
one evening.

The psychiatrist found him sane,
so prison.

Maybe he got out
and started again.

With leave
or on parole.

No, he got the maximum sentence.

He hanged himself in his cell
15 days after his sentencing.

You shouldn't have waited for me.

And Mum?

She's coming, Mum.

A coffee?

Thanks.

Here.

So,

did he get out?

Let's see…

Let's see, said the blind man.

Hey, you don't say anything
on the recording.

Why?

Because you keep a card up your sleeve.

Ah, here it is.

Page 18.

It's all over the internet

and I end up on page 18.

They ruined my headline.

"Faced with the proliferation
of these new predators,

"when will"

"chemical castration arrive?"

I never wrote anything like that.
And why not the death penalty?

And why not?

The death penalty is popular.

I already told you:

First: my headlines are not to be touched.

Second, it's a trial,
not a witch hunt.

- And third...
-"Third". "Third".

But seriously,
we don't work for Minute.

Your article was weak

and I jazzed it up.
You should thank me.

A "Disturbing Disappearance" has come in.

Chambéry, two eight-year-old girls
disappeared

on the way to school.

Sam, I'm counting on you.

And Ava, go with him.

Christian, a light case
to take a break.

A woman wins at roulette
at the Le Touquet casino.

Someone tries to strangle her
in the toilets.

Don't bet your salary
because I won't increase your salary.

Boulogne-sur-Mer: a couple ends
the weekend at the bottom of the cliffs.

Solveig, it's yours.

Suicide or a selfie gone wrong?

Aubin, enough trials for a while.

Go and get some fresh air in the woods.

Violence against prostitutes.

Portraits, testimonies.

Give me
a good dossier, well done.

However, sales
are not going well at all.

Paris Match is catching up with us
and guess who's trailing behind…

Mickey Mouse's Journal.
Yes, we've reached that point.

If you do your job,
we'll get to the bottom of it.

We always get to the bottom of it.

Give me a week,

I'll re-interview the witnesses and see what comes out.

A week.

Too little.

Focus on Chambéry,
Sam.

Remember the Maëlys case.

It brought us Lelandais,
12,000 more copies,

we lived off it for a year.

Two murders in less than two years,
same method, same area.

Doesn't that make you wonder?

-Il colpevole è stato arrestato.

Calm down, let's do things properly,

as they should be done.

Who's starting?

I don't believe it either.

Patricia was
a thirty-something independent woman.

She had her own flat, her car.

Jessica, on the other hand, was a teenager
who lived with her father

and rode a bike.

It's not the same profile.

I agree, and besides,

Patricia Robert and Richard Lacombe
is a closed case.

-Can I finish?
-Go ahead.

The facts, only the facts.

We have his DNA,
a signed confession,

consistent testimonies.

There are no doubts. What more do you want?

I didn't say he was innocent.

For Jessica, however,
there are multiple perpetrators.

Give me.

Perhaps Lacombe wasn't alone,
he was part of a group

and he took the blame
to protect his friends.

He's a good friend then:
gets 20 years and kills himself.

It doesn't mean anything.

There's a suicide in prison
every three days.

-May I?
-Here.

If we link
all the crimes in the area,

we'll never finish.

But neither Patricia nor Jessica
were raped.

It doesn't seem like a crime
by a maniac or a serial killer.

If it's not a jealous husband

or a disturbed individual, then...

why did these two girls die?

Why was acid poured on their bodies?

There's hatred.

And murderers
acting in a group,

it's possible.

It's worth investigating.

Exactly, we need to dig.

What did you mean, Ava?

Major investigations like these
don't exist anymore.

The print media is dead.

Not yet.

And even if

you redo the investigation and find
Dupont de Ligonnès,

it won't change anything.

The major investigation is a myth. You're the only one who believes in it.

-I believe in fieldwork.
-That's over too.

Mum will cut
your travel expenses.

Hotels, restaurants, and petrol.

Yes, you cost too much.

Fine.

Can I have the special edition, please?

To cheer us up.

It feels like a funeral in here.

It is a funeral.

It's been dying for twenty years,
the print media.

What are we doing here?

Come on, guys,

chin up.

Come on.

As the gravediggers say,

as long as there are dead people,
there's hope.

-Here.
-Thanks.

Christian, I have a proposal.

In the bathroom?

You do Chambéry,
I'll handle the casino.

That way I'll pass by Bailleul,
it's nearby.

-Mum will catch you.
-Not if you do your job properly.

Take my daughter with you,
she'll help you, she's sharp.

-You know the rule.
-What rule?

Give me your phone.

-Bloody hell.
-Here, thanks.

-Hello, Chris?
-No, it's Sam.

Damn it, guys, what game are you playing?

I'm going to Bailleul to reconstruct
Lacombe's environment.

Okay. And Chambéry?

Chris is handling it,
we swapped.

Right, what do you need?

The police reports and the expert assessments from back then,
everything you can find.

Do you think the police
give everything away for free?

I know you don't believe it.

It's not to make a fuss,
I need to verify.

You know what they say: "If it itches, you have to scratch."

-Ladies and gentlemen,
our train...

So, have you solved the case?

-Up to Chambéry station.

Thank you for your attention and
I wish you a pleasant journey.

-Do you have a theory?
-About what?

About the group of assassins.

I think it's
a group of young people.

Males. Single.

White, raised
on porn and football.

Good morning!

Good morning, sir!
Sorry to bother you.

Who are you?

I'm writing an article
on Richard Lacombe.

Did you know him?

Do you have two minutes for me?

Richard?

He's my brother.

Have you ever met him?
No, never.

Well, now you have.

What is the article about?

About prison conditions.

That's how
I got to Richard.

Are there many suicides in prison?

One every three days.

-What newspaper is it?
-Détective.

Détective… the newspaper
where everything is made up?

Yes, many people think so,

but unfortunately, it's all true.

Pleased to meet you, Luc.

Samuel.

Yesterday morning, around 7:45 AM,

Caroline and Léa
left the property

in Cour de Nézin,

where they live,
to go to the Simone Veil school,
700 metres away.

A walk
of 5-6 minutes

that the two 8-year-old girls
usually did together.

This time, however,
no one seems to have seen them,

and the teacher,
not seeing them arrive,

raised the alarm at 8:10 AM.

After the parents confirmed
they had gone to school

an investigation was opened
for suspicious disappearance,

kidnapping
and abduction of minors,

assigned to the judicial police.

Now, let's take your questions.

Who is it?

Who is it?

Here, for Détective.

It's been almost 32 hours
since the disappearance

was reported,

and we know that in these cases
the first few hours are crucial.

And yet you haven't activated
the abduction alert?

The activation of the alert
is governed by law.

Not all criteria are met.

But why give up
an effective tool?

Unless
it's already too late.

At this point,

no lead is favoured,
none is ruled out.

And I assure you
that we are doing everything possible

to find Caroline and Léa
safe and sound,

as soon as possible.

Thank you for your question.

He was a lorry driver.

He stopped 5-6 years ago
to look after Mum.

Would you like one?

No, thank you.

After her death
he moved here.

Then he stopped doing anything,
he withdrew into himself.

He wasn't exactly a comedian
before, let alone after…

Did he have friends, anyone close?

No friends, no girlfriend.

I only knew of one relationship
he had, in secondary school.

Yet he wasn't
that ugly.

When he found out
what he had done,

weren't you surprised?

Yes, of course.

He was strange,
but from that to killing someone…

Women already made him uncomfortable,
even mine.

I once asked him
what his problem was with her.

He replied

that it wasn't her,
that they were all the same.

Did he ever mention a group of friends
to you?

No.

But what did he do all day?

He's a mouse.

There.

That's how he spent
his free time.

And much of his nights.

What is all this stuff?

It's CB radio.

The ancestor of the Internet.

A mobile transceiver, a base station.

It works like a pirate radio.

Meaning?

It allows you to transmit and receive
signals within a limited range.

How can I explain it?

Imagine that radio waves

are like light.

The higher you are,
the bigger the antenna,

the further you can transmit
and receive.

And what's it for?

It's no use.

It's for…

It's no use, I mean
it's for talking to people, randomly,

to pass the time.

Do you want me to show you?

Yes, go ahead.

We're here.

You're looking for white noise.

White noise?

Hear that?

No interference.

TX test for Ponce-Mirabelle.

Do you receive me? Over.

Change frequency.

Scan.

TX test

for QSO, this is Ponce-Mirabelle.

Do you receive me?

TX test for QSO, this is
Ponce-Mirabelle, do you receive me?

Nobody uses it anymore.

What are you talking about?

It works great.
Do you know about survivalism?

Those fanatics
who go into the woods armed

with food supplies?

Fanatics, I don't know,
but they're well-equipped.

Imagine that one day
there's no more Internet,

or telephone networks,

you'd be glad to have
shortwave to communicate.

This is the future.

TX test for QSO,
this is Ponce-Mirabelle.

Do you receive me? Over.

QSO?

QSO is used to conduct
a transmission test.

I'm simulating a call,
hoping someone will answer.

And what's this?

Signal strength.

The redder it gets,
the closer the person is.

Okay, Ponce-Mirabelle.

This is Neumann 72 at the mic.

I'm coming back from work,
I was about to stop by ORT.

So, 73 and thanks for the QSO.
Over and out.

Thank you, Neumann 72,
have a good evening.

Good evening.

May I offer you a drink?

That's kind, but no thank you.

I've been watching you for a while,

and I was discussing it
with my colleagues at that table.

I was telling them that you
are a lovely young woman.

And in my opinion,
very special.

So I took the liberty
of approaching you

with this Cabernet Syrah 2022.

And a question.

In your opinion,

what makes you so special?

I have a question too.

Why don't people like you

understand
when someone says no?

In every bar

there's always
some sleazy guy like you.

You wanted to know
what's special about me?

Here you go, satisfied?

Aren't you thirsty anymore?

She drinks a lot, the young lady.

You make a nice couple.

Have you made friends
with the colleagues?

It's full of sharks here.

Do you always play the independent one?

You know, we cover
the petty crime news.

They deal with
social news.

We don't play
in the same league.

What the hell is going on?

I can't talk now,
I'll call you back.

Christian?

-Hello?
-Let me know when you change your phone number.

I'm sending you messages for nothing
like an idiot.

Where are you?

I'm at the hotel,
I've just got back.

Do you want to meet?

Shh, shh.

-What is she doing here?
-It's a holiday.

So what?

Couldn't her father keep her?

You're the father.

What?

If he lived alone on a farm,
he wasn't part of a group.

But yes, he was a CB radio user,
a former lorry driver.

Ah, 'CB radio user'...
I thought you said 'cyclist'!

I think he found
a community of people like him.

Locals,
isolated, resentful.

Hmm.

Sorry, but I don't believe it.

Seriously?

The police are doing their job properly,

if Lacombe had accomplices,
they would have found them.

Do you want to stay here tonight?

And the young lady?

She's known for a while.

-Oh really?
-Hmm.

-No?
-Mmm.

Tell me the truth...

did you steal the flowers?

Are you doing an internship at the newspaper
just to annoy your father?

I thought
it would bring us together.

Instead, he's investigating alone,
without me.

And I'm here with you,

700 kilometres from there.

One has to start somewhere.

How long have you been covering crime?

Long enough to have seen a lot.

More than one, even.

Every case

is different.

Yes, but they almost always end
in the same way.

“Corrèze: man kills partner”,

“Dordogne: man kills wife”.

“Auvergne: man kills ex-wife”.

At least they get talked about.

In theory, crime reporting
should cover all crimes.

Instead, it prefers to be filled

with more or less
interesting, amusing stories.

I call it
“diversionary reporting”.

But murder is different.

For some men,
killing a woman

is a way of proving
they are men, real men.

Even if it means
spending their lives in prison.

Do you know what's missing?

Stories with happy endings.

“Charente-Maritime: man comes home

and doesn't kill his wife”.

“He picks up the kids, does the shopping, the washing-up,

takes out the rubbish”.

Now that would be
a front-page headline.

What are you doing?

Waking up.

– Aren't you ready yet? – No.

They found the little girls.

I've been calling you for ages.

– It didn't ring. – I left you ten messages.

Turn on the TV. Damn it, Mum.

– Samuel? – I answered.

Then hang up.

– Can you hear me? – Line's bad

– Léa and Caroline took shelter under this building,

– in front of this faulty door,

– forced open last night
by the police.

– Yes, hello? – Samuel, can you hear me?

– Yes, I can hear you. And you? – No, I can't hear you well.

– Everything alright? –

The signal's rubbish in the mountains.

Did you see? They found the little girls.

Oh, wow… yes, incredible.

But you're exaggerating now.

Good for them, right?
Too bad for us, though.

Imagine spending two days
in a rubbish bin.

Poor little girls.

So what are you doing?

Staying? Going back?

Going after the Jessica case?

No, forget it, you know what?

I'll dig a bit more and prepare
a nice piece for you.

Okay.

So, send me everything
as soon as you have something?

– Of course! – Bye.

Well done, guys.

So, any news?

Yes… no, I'll tell you later.

Come on, tell me.

No, not now, later.

I'll call you back.

Did she hang up on you?

A coffee?

Yes, please.

Can I use your Mac?
Aubin should have sent me the Patricia file.

It's in the bag.

Good morning.

Good morning.

Good morning, darling.

– I don't know how you do it. – Do what?

Manage all this.

Do I have a choice?

One moment, please.

Sam, I'm working.

The file you sent me
is rubbish!

The investigation is all redacted. What are you talking about?

Spagiani has taken you for a ride: names, towns, it's all blacked out.

If the case is closed, why protect the investigation like this?

I have a lead, but I'm stuck.

I need a name,
a place to start.

I propose
a complete internal service…

Sit down.

Internal and external to the area,
so we don't take any risks.

Back already?

Patricia Robert.

I gave you the whole file.

The procedures are all redacted.

Why are you protecting a closed case so much?

Let's just say the Fresnel case
changed everything.

– What do you need?
– Something concrete.

I need a lead,
a thread to pull.

So, what are you focusing on?

A serial killer?

My men on the ground
always had two theories.

One: Lacombe was the only culprit.

And the other… not necessarily.

Let's do a trade:

Tell me what you are working on
and I'll mention it to the DCPI.

Let's see.

We'll discuss it.

Now listen to me carefully.

If one or more psychopaths
are roaming the area,

you have to tell me, and immediately.

Otherwise, I'll report you
and your rubbish newspaper

for failure to report a crime.

A fine of €75,000
and 3 years in prison.

Is that concrete enough for you?

Do you hear me?

Do you hear me or not?!

Hello?

Yes!

Yes, yes, done, of course.

Don't mention it, it's his technique.

Last month
he told me the opposite.

So you understand...

Well?

You're on the right track.

I've never seen him so furious,
he even threatened me.

Charleval. A small village
between Hazebrouck and Bailleul.

Try around there.

Charleval.
Thanks Aubin, you're a star!

I'm on the road to Gaillon,
the weather's nice, it's pleasant.

But I'm getting interference
on the frequency, are you too?

Since this morning.

I saw a young girl
on the side of the road,

her bike had a flat tyre.

I was even going to stop
to give her a hand.

Leave it
and keep your hands on the wheel!

Think of your wife waiting for you!

…with your permission. Goodbye.

Oh, bugger.

It's incredible.

They were stuck
50 metres from where we were.

We were so close

to being heroes.

I hope Sam
didn't promise them anything.

Do you know the difference
between your father and you?

What?

Your father, when he sees
Jessica's photo,

thinks:
"She could have been my daughter."

Whereas you think:
"It could have been me."

I don't think he thinks that.

I think I can finish on my own.

If you leave now,
you'll arrive by tonight.

Seriously?

Go on, go, go.

-Thanks!
-Yes, yes… don't overdo it.

Thanks, eh!

A kiss!

I'm at a roundabout, I'll call you back later.

No Kodak for now
and no Disco 22 in QRD Grainville.

Over.

"No speed cameras, no patrols..."

No speed cameras, no patrols...

"Kodak"... "Kodak"...

"Speed camera."

"Disco 22" - police car.

"QRD"... direction.

"No speed cameras or police
towards Grainville", okay.

51 from Daddy33 on the D149.

I'm heading home, continuing on fixed.

Thanks for the QRM 22.

One can never be too careful. What did he say, that bastard?

"Daddy33"... okay,
that must be his nickname.

You're getting interference on the frequency, I can barely hear you.

On my "centipede" on the D1
there's traffic.

Over to you.

"Centipede"?
What does that mean?

Ah, it's the lorries.

Hello?

-You didn't call me back.
-No, sorry.

What stage are you at?

Nowhere, I thought I had something but...

And you in Chambéry?

-I've left.
-What do you mean?

I'm coming to help you.

No, Ava, I don't need your help.

Stay with Christian,
you'll be more useful there.

Too late, I'm already on the train.

I'll arrive at 10 PM, be there.

Bloody hell!

Good evening.

My dad is having heating problems again, the idiot,

I don't know what he's doing with it.

And what are you doing?

I filled up, tank was empty.

We're drinking tonight at Napoléon's,

will you join us later?

I'm QRE in an hour,

unless my father
offers to buy a drink.

Okay, and don't get caught
by the cops.

Come on, maybe there's someone at the service area.

If not, 88, bye and QRU. Over.

Break Martel 732, do you read me?

Clear for the path.

Do I wait a moment as agreed
or proceed?

Over to you.

I receive you, Némésis.

Try not to be too noticeable,
you never know.

Area clear or do you have doubts?

Nothing in front, nothing behind.
Over.

Who are you?

Who are you?

What are you doing here?

Come on, get in!

-What happened?
-Come on.

Receiving you poorly,
Merlot 60.

You forgot your slippers,
it seems.

Do they know we're listening?

I thought so at first:

“They’re stupid,
everyone can hear them,

“it’s risky.”

Instead, they are very clever.

Actually, everyone hears,
but nobody truly listens.

No trace is left, it's all in code,
understand?

Come on, write, write before I forget.
Némésis.

-Do you have a pen?
- Martel 732.

I dropped it. It's next to you.

Némésis, Martel 732, Napoléon.

-Napoléon... -Némésis.

Martel 732.

Is that all?

Némésis.

It rings a bell.

-What are you doing?
-Wait, wait.

There!
He's one of Jessica's followers.

Fuck…

I knew it, fuck.

Are they the same ones who killed
the two girls?

Exactly.

What they have in common is the road.

In a car or on a bike,
always the road.

Most of the cyberpunks
are men.

As soon as they see a girl
on the street, they say so,

and they listen.

Understand?

For them, it's like having eyes
and ears everywhere.

Did he see your face?

No, I don't think so.

It was dark!

But I saw him.

This is not possible! You're really leaving me
alone like this?!

And I came all this way
like an idiot.

Across the whole of France
and you stand me up.

How many times have I waited for you,

but you don't care,
you only think of yourself!

But do you realise,
what if he'd caught you?

Do you take me for a fool?

Let me see

what you found on him.

What is this stuff, is it new?

Leave me alone.

Private profile, no posts,

he uses it to stalk girls.

-He's a fascist.
-But what do you know?

The three fingers raised,

the hand in the shape of a P:

"White Power".

For normal people,
it means: “okay, everything’s fine”.

Trust me.

Does it happen often that you're chased
by murderers in the woods?

It happens.
Not often, but it happens.

It happens.

Your whole life on the road.

In dingy hotel rooms.

That's not how you rebuild a life,
you know?

What's blocking you with Solveig?

Come on, I'm hungry,
shall we go eat?

Yes, let's go.

But just the two of us,
leave your phone.

Do you know where we're going?

To the first place we find.

If we find it.

Listen, I've never asked you:
do you have a boyfriend?

I don't really like men.

Oh, really?

Come on, seriously,

what is stopping you
from being with Solveig?

You know, Solveig has her own life.

Her ex, her daughter…

Is she taking care of it?

I couldn't cope, Ava.

When your mother left me,
it took me time to accept it.

I took refuge in work.

Covering everything,
without any criteria.

Staying home with you…

I couldn't do it.

What are you having?

We have a problem.

Good evening, have you chosen?

Does the burger come with chips?

Chips or sautéed potatoes?

No, chips, thank you.

Okay, and for the gentleman?

The same.

And how would you like the burgers?

Medium for both.

And some water too. Thank you.

You're welcome.

What is it?

Némésis has just come in.

Don't turn around.

He's just joined his friends,
over there at the bar.

There are four of them.

Did he recognise you?

No, but he recognised the car.

He knows we're here.

They're coming to check.

What do we do?

Normal, calm.

Normal, a father with his daughter.

Let's have dinner. Let's wait.
Let's smile, let's talk.

They're looking for someone on their own.

- Where are you going?
- I'll be right back.

What do we do?

We wait.

Now.

Marylin?

Where are you going?

Um... I was going to ask for a light.

I have one, come here.

Here you go.

It's cold, isn't it?
Indeed.

What are you doing?!

Are you serious, isolating yourself like this?

Bloody hell, you arrive late,
stay five minutes and leave.

What's gotten into you?

Everything's fine, are you done?
Come on, I'll explain.

Enjoy your meal.

What are they doing?

They're waiting for us.

We need to leave
before the last ones remain.

How?

On foot.

Have you seen where we are?

- We're in the middle of wheat fields.
- Shh.

Did you notice it too?

After all they've taken from us...

Give me the phone.

To do what?

The police.

To tell them what?

I'll make something up.

- Good evening, gentlemen.
- Thank you, good evening, goodbye.

There's no signal, we're underground.

No windows, no exits,
we're trapped.

Call from here.

Police station, good evening.

Good evening, I'm calling to report
a fight, please.

Can you speak up? Where are you?

In a bar.

In a bar. Which bar?

Excuse me, please?

Hello?

Whose black Volkswagen estate car is that?

The one out front.

I can hear voices behind you, madam, is that normal?

How is it nobodys?

Can you speak freely?

Mhm.

Nobody saw anything?

You're in a bar,
but which one?

The car
arrived by itself.

Which bar are you in?

At the Napoléon.

How long will it take you to get here, roughly?

It might take a while,
I don't have anyone in the area.

But we're coming.

Can you hurry, please?

How long?

They don't know.

So, you didn't like it?

Yes, but we weren't very hungry.

Can I bring you anything else?
A coffee, a dessert?

No, nothing, thank you.

Are you ready? let's go.

- Excuse me?
- Yes?

- Good evening.
- Thank you, have a pleasant evening, goodbye. Yes?

Our car broke down
not far from here.

Could you give us a lift
into town?

There's no room in our car,

I'm afraid.

Not even if we squeeze in?

Forget it, Ava.

Come on, have a good evening. Goodbye.

Oh, bloody hell.

Don't do it. Don't do it.

Ladies and gentlemen,

please,

we're closing now. It's time to go home.

Bloody hell, they all know each other.

CQ to all!

Looking for a vehicle involved in an accident,
black VW Passat estate car.

Driver failed to stop. Report if sighted, thank you.

I've just done
the Grainville hill, okay.

I'm heading back north,
towards the bridge. Listening.

Change frequency, they may be listening.

I'll do another sweep to the west.

33 to all, mayday.

I've just passed a black Passat
on the D316, at high speed.

-It could be the one you're looking for.
-D316? In which direction?

Gaillon and Saint-Aubin,
towards Grand Ruban.

-Fuck, shit!
-What is it?

I just filled up.

They must have stolen our petrol.

Come on, go! Go!

Get in! Get in!

Oh fuck, shit.

Fuck.

Help!

I'm a journalist!

To all who can hear me: Help!

Men are trying
to kill me!

They are traveling in a black Ford Raptor
with registration number MT-321-BA!

They've already killed two women:

Patricia Robert

and Jessica Fresnel!

Oh, shit!

Dad!

Fuck, son of a bitch!

This is Perlegrise 52, mayday received.
I have you in sight.

Right behind you.

I'm calling the police,
hang on, mate.

Look, they're running away!

-Sir, ladies and gentlemen.
-Good morning.

Um... come on.

-Do you want me to read it again anyway?
-It's too late, it's already sent.

Anyway, a story like this,

I doubt it'll make the front page.

-Everything alright?
-Yes, although I'm exhausted.

Normal. You know what they say?

A good week for the press
is a shit week for us.

When does your internship finish?

In two weeks.

I think Mum will keep you on.

You think?
-Sure.

-Sam?
-Yes, go on, I'll catch up.

-Are you coming to the bar or not?
-Yes, I'm coming.

-Okay, see you later.
-See you later.

Be careful, it's an idiot's job.

What stage are you at?

I've finished.

Can I read it?

So,

the beginning is a bit confusing.

Let's sort this out.

We'll cut this.

This, this...

delete it, remove it.

And you'll open with this.

Here you go.

Hey?

It's really good.

Okay?

Hmm.

Ava?

I wanted to tell you
that if you need me,

and if you want to...

And whatever happens...

I'll always be here.