Original subtitles

If you don’t want to talk to me, don’t talk to me.

Bah...

Happy now?

Of course...

What did you expect?

THE CRIME SQUAD

Everyone lives their own life.

If you're gonna take it like that...

Off you go.

Live your own life.

I'm not asking for anything.

Yep.

To think, you haven't plead for ten years.

Twelve, dear. Twelve.

It's like riding a horse: one never forgets how.

Good morning, my friend.

He's a mediocrity.

I've been having trouble...

Miss, could you help me?

I stared at the jury and quoted that phrase from Voltaire.

You're very efficient, miss.

What's going on?

Mr. d'Alins? - Yes, that's me.

What's this about? Can you explain?

Shut it, you.

Two casings.

One, two.

It was two gendarmes... - Two gendarmes? What?...

Are we interrupting?

Kick them all out and record their identities.

How's that bitch? Still hysterical?

The lawyer? - Yes.

They've taken her to the hospital.

I see. You... - Yes?

Do you know anything or not? - Nothing.

What do you mean, nothing?

I was 50 meters away, in the hallway.

I heard screams and came running.

You did what? - Came running.

I came running.

A lot of people came running, Lieutenant.

Commissioner.

Crime Squad.

Oh, the Crime. - That's us.

And what did you see when you...? What was it?

"Came running". - That's it.

When you turned up?

I saw your "bitch"...

Excuse me.

I saw a trainee lawyer in shock next to Mr. d'Alins' body.

I tried to comfort her. That's all. - Splendid.

And did she say anything?

That two men in uniforms of the National Gendarmerie...

Yeah, we know all that. But was there anything else?

I couldn't understand everything.

"The bitch" was hysterical, Lieutenant.

What? - No, nothing.

She's a journalist.

You're a journalist, right? - Yes, that's right.

You’re gonna subpoena me? - Yes.

Goodbye then, lieutenant.

That's all, bye. Goodbye, little lady.

"The threats against counsel d'Alins

have been known about for weeks.

The police knew about them.

We know that the lawyer d'Alins had asked for protection

and that this was later withdrawn.

We know he was killed.

The public has the right to know the rest. And you will know".

This is great.

It’s the kind of bullshit that I love.

It's so good for our public image.

Who wrote that?

Sybille Berger, the journalist that you questioned yesterday.

She's a fool.

Undoubtedly.

Okay, director sir...

We'd heard about a contract,

but the source was an inmate of dubious credibility.

I made a report, requested resources,

but received no reply nor resources.

There's an intent to kill the brother-in-law of the Minister of Transport,

you highlight it to your superiors, and nobody reacts.

Is this what you're asking me to believe? - No, I'm telling you like it was.

Was the request in writing, commissioner?

No, no, indeed. It was communicated verbally.

That's a shame.

Why? Is the minister demanding my resignation?

No, of course not.

You're a real piece of work.

What?

Even if on one occasion you were a little trigger-happy,

the minister doesn't want your head.

We want the guilty.

Bring us their balls.

Is that all? - Yes.

Hey!

You addressing me, sir? - Yes. I'm assigning you an inspector.

He’s an old friend of yours. Do you understand me?

I see.

Yes, it's me.

Has Millard explained it to you? - Yes.

What? It's best it's me, isn't it?

Obviously, yes.

Glad to be back working with you, dear Martin.

I mean it.

Me too.

It's better this way, so I won't fuck you over.

They want a report, they'll get a report. That's that.

Agreed, Martin? - Of course, Jean-François.

That's great.

Shall I drive, my dear Martin?

No, my dear Jean-François.

You know the saying:

cars, like wives, are not to be lent.

You do talk some crap.

What?

I knew you'd have some crap saying.

How is she?

Lucienne? Well, she sends her regards.

Is she expecting?

Are you kidding? At our age?

As I was saying: everything'll work out great.

Absolutely.

There was no infringement! None!

It's for you.

Griffon.

13 or 15 players?

That makes 30 suspects.

Plus the ref.

Is something wrong?

We knew your father was in danger. An inmate tipped us off.

He was stabbed an hour ago.

It confirms what I said: a mob vendetta.

My father took cases against mobsters.

It was their vengeance.

Your father was in corporate law.

He hadn't taken a case against a mobster, to use your phrase,

for something like 20 years.

Is it so absurd that they'd seek revenge after 20 years?

No, but it isn't the only possibility.

I beg your pardon, but I’d like to see his desk.

I don't want my mother upset.

I don't want her upset either. I just want to examine his desk.

Do you have a warrant?

Cute move! Indeed I don't.

In that case, I’ll be back tomorrow with a warrant.

However you'd better send your mother to the country,

because if I come back tomorrow, I will upset her!

Don't get het up, commissioner. Am I het up, eh??

See...

See...

See, nothing...

There's nothing to see.

There's nothing to see.

Your health!

What's this?

Where did you find that?

You didn't clear up carefully.

Calm down. I'm not going to tell your mother.

Who's the doll?

A little bitch.

What's her name? - I'll say no more.

Shame. I'll find out myself.

So long.

Son of a bitch! That little whore!

Dad?

Can you read this?

"To my master in every way. Suzy".

It might have a smutty meaning, eh?

Try to find her. - Yes.

Look!

What's he doing? - He’s heading for the booth.

Don't they have a telephone?

Maybe he doesn't want his mummy to overhear him.

Or he believes his phone is tapped.

Like we'd do something like that.

Looking good, honeybun.

The commissioner has seen everything. - So what?

We must alert Rambert.

Are we going to bother him with this?

Hey, what do you think he’s paying us for?

As you wish.

Am I interrupting?

Smells like a fry-up.

Why are you here exactly?

That inspector... what was his name?

The pied-noir.

Gómez. - That's it... Gómez.

He's found the girl in the photo, Suzanne Thompson,

alias Suzy D'Annunzio.

She's a whore , high class.

Acapulco, Los Angeles, Washington...

Catch my drift?

She retired six months ago.

Apartment on Suchet Boulevard;

d'Alins paid the rent and more besides.

You kept this?

That's nice.

How long ago was this?

It's Belle-Île, isn't it?

No, Île de Ré.

So it is, Île de Ré.

Have you heard anything about the murdered rugby player?

Must be a real bummer for you...

an informant with his throat cut.

He was the one who had spoken of the contract on d'Alins, right?

Ask your superiors.

Aren't you going to offer me one of your Belgian beers?

No.

Is something burning?

Yes, my dinner.

What is it? - Police.

It's gone 9pm.

Mind if I eat? - No.

I'm famished.

Perfect, so am I.

Forgive me, but you're not invited.

I don't eat with cops.

Hey, Suzy Thompson, Suzy D'Annunzio,...

...don't be racist, dearie.

Being commissioner doesn't stop me sharing some scraps with whores.

Whore!

Why are you hungry?

Don't be rude.

You couldn't understand.

No, I couldn't.

So you haven’t eaten anything in 24 hours?

Why would that be?

Don't tell me it's because you're heartbroken.

They killed d'Alins

so you lost your appetite.

No? Now you're recuperating.

You must relax, no?

Don't sit there!

Is it his place?

You won't be sitting anywhere.

Get the fuck out!

I've nothing to say to you.

Mr. d'Alins didn't talk to me about his business.

I've nothing to tell you.

Are you afraid?

I'm afraid of nothing.

I'm going far away.

I'm sorry, forget it.

Forget it.

It won't be you who's gonna stop me, sunshine.

Fool!

Miss,

you're confused.

Don't forget the dignity my role confers on me.

You're a whore. Commissioner of police.

Right! I'm famished...

These little black balls are great.

I'm going to have some toast.

Here.

Not bad at all.

Well... The violent scenes commence.

I'll call the doorman, who'll call the cops.

Home visits after 9pm are illegal.

I assure you, you'll regret this.

Excuse me, boss, why didn't you teach that whore a lesson?

He's right.

Good question...

Anyone know the answer?

She knew her rights.

Your smiles are bad cover

for moral and intellectual naivety.

None of you ever took advantage of your status as police officers

to visit a whore after 9pm?

None of you ever exchanged information or protection for a shag?

You're all saints!

However I'm no saint.

I drink on duty

and it gets dirty in the process.

If I ask a silly question

I don't want a silly answer, but something intelligent.

Is that clear?

Once again, Gómez has something intelligent.

What is it this time? Go ahead.

If Suzanne Thompson, alias Suzy D'Annunzio, prostitute,

has the brass neck to call the police station to kick you out,

she's protected.

Are you suggesting she's sleeping with her commissioner?

No, from some big shot.

She's a whore, and you're a commissioner.

But she kicked you out because she has backing from someone more powerful.

Maybe I'm wrong... - Yes.

And maybe not.

Anyway, that's point one.

Let's move on to the second.

Fleury's informant who had his throat slashed.

The autopsy report. - No, thanks.

Deli meat with beer makes me queasy.

Earn your corn. What I want is a name.

Kazavian. Avram Kazavian.

Kazavian...

An industrialist. - What?

He doesn't have a record. Started as a scrap dealer.

In the 50s he had a record, but it vanished.

Our informant worked in his business as a security guard

before going to jail for a robbery.

So, one: Kazavian's company, CGCI,

manufactures cars and railroad tracks.

Two: Kazavian used to go hunting with Raymond d'Alins.

Three: from then on, the lawyer saw his brother-in-law a lot,

the minister.

So I ask myself:

who buys lots of railroad cars if not the Ministry of Transport?

Listen up! These are big contracts.

Many millions. Some people kill for amounts like that.

Is the pied-noir really that maladroit?

Where do you guys get these ideas?

While you go around at night mistreating rude whores,

we youngsters do our best.

They're right.

I'm giving up women.

I think I'll concentrate on this Kazavian,

scrap dealer,

and on this Lacassagne, Minister of Transport.

What do you think, Jean-François?

I think nothing.

It's your case, Martin.

You seem pensive.

I think it's time

to put your client six feet under,

even if it's the lowest profile burial of the year.

A souvenir? - Be careful.

Algeria, 1961-1962.

Near the end.

It's authentic.

I like to have death close at hand.

You know what Nietzsche said?

What did Nietzsche say?

You're such a prick.

The Minister of Transport. - Christian Lacassagne.

Isn't that your little journalist friend?

Sybille Berger.

How do you know her?

I'm well informed.

Anyway, I already knew her.

Ah, really?

Before she left her family and started working for a living.

At Castel, at Racing's...

Is Lacassagne always followed by this much protection?

I don't know. - I'll ask him.

Remember you're just a cop.

Don't create trouble with the minister.

I'm not asking you to come with me. Don't worry, Jean-Francois.

Relax.

I'm not afraid, Martin.

It's you I'm worried about.

That bird has no respect.

Are you going to write her a ticket?

No, I just want to see what she's looking at.

Looks like a soul in grief.

So what?

Enjoying yourself?

What a dick!

Really?

I thought you were a supporter of the heavy hand with women.

Let's go!

I see. Let's go then.

What's the story, captain?

Is it true Inspector Rambert and you are old friends?

Let’s put it this way. We worked together for five years.

Really?

On the sixth, he left with my wife.

My wife is a good woman.

So you could say we're old friends.

And if he were to find out you’ve bugged a public phonebox

without authorisation,

would it be a good idea to inform your old friend... sorry Inspector Rambert?

I don't know, lad.

You think you know old friends,

but sometimes you get them wrong.

I think I know him, chief.

You might have me wrong.

Okay, shall we listen to the tape?

Good idea.

This is the first time d'Alins used the tapped booth.

It was just after the funeral.

It's me. Can you hear okay? - Yes.

Are you trying to pressurise me? I told you there'd be no problem.

I'll see my uncle later.

I'll get the rest of the dosh.

Why did you send that tart to the cemetery?

What tart? - Suzy.

What's your game?

She disobeyed me. It won't happen again.

That's all.

I don’t like the way he said "It won’t happen again".

Maybe Suzy needs some protection.

Hi there, Suzy. How're you doing?

Hello, Suzy.

You've been disobedient, Suzy.

You shouldn't have gone to the funeral. That wasn't good.

Do what you like.

I won't feel a thing.

Apologies.

Come over here, Suzy.

Come.

Get up, Suzy. We're not finished.

What do you want?

I...

I'm making...

I'm making a survey.

Are you for or against thermonuclear war?

Not interested.

Careful...

That should be enough. I think I might break something.

They said three blows. Strike her three times, please.

Commissioner Griffon?

He should come right away to Suzy D'Annunzio’s house.

He’s on his way. It’ll take about five minutes.

Very well.

Thanks. Bye.

Oh... for fuck's sake! And this other one stops just now!

Don't panic, commissioner.

Keep your hands on the wheel.

And give me that Python whose ammo you buy yourself.

You can go.

Don’t look for your second gun, Commissioner. I have it.

You have an appointment with Avram Kazavian.

Head to Porte Dauphine.

Kazavian is your boss?

Certainly not.

So who is your boss?

Its reached the ears of the highest circles that you want to speak with Kazavian

so we're taking you to him.

What do you mean with "the highest circles"?

How high? Minister Lacassagne?

Otherwise...

is a police officer that important?

After you, gentlemen. - We're not coming in, commissioner.

Return his weapons to the commissioner.

I unloaded them for you.

The bullets are in the car.

Relax, I wasn't planning on using them.

I'm sorry, fellas.

We got off on the wrong foot.

Give me Gómez.

Is this you?

Listen and don't ask questions.

At 90 Avenue Foch

there are two guys handcuffed to a fence.

Detain them for... threats, beatings and injuries.

Tell Gómez not to bother.

They've already fucked off.

Leave it, Gómez. Too late.

Are you Avram Kazavian?

You send two thugs after me.

You know my favourite beer...

Are you trying to create an impression?

I don't need to impress anyone. I buy them.

Anything that can be bought is insignificant.

Beauty can be bought too.

I bought all this.

There's several million's worth in this house alone.

Have a beer, sit down and ask me your questions.

I guess you also know my questions, right?

Me? Know your questions?

How would I know what you have in mind?

Why don't you lay off that phoney accent?

You haven't been illiterate scrapdealer for ages,

I don't even know if you still remember that you're Armenian.

So lay off, right?

I see. You have something that can't be bought...

you're intelligent.

There doesn't seem much intelligence, but in fact it's limitless.

Unlike money.

Take, for example, 4,500 million

in railway equipment... to illustrate my philosophy.

If you like.

Firstly, some trivial matters, Commissioner Griffon.

I come from the lower depths.

From the gutter... Like yourself, I believe.

I started in scrap aged 20.

Back then, for two lousy trucks of military surplus,

scrapdealers settled their scores with guns.

It was a time of great opportunities.

One could become a millionaire before he was 20.

As indeed I did.

You don't want your beer?

No, I'm on duty.

You're not on duty, you're my guest.

No, please.

I'm not your guest.

I'm a police officer investigating

the murder of the lawyer Raymond d'Alins.

You're a fool.

Mr. Kazavian, you're insulting a police officer.

Won't you stop flitting about and talking rubbish?

No, there's something important you must understand.

I have no motive, to put it in your legal terminology.

In the case of Raymond d'Alins, I have no motive.

What about this contract for 4,500 million?

Yes, it's a tidy sum.

I was in touch with the lawyer Raymond d'Alins.

Through him, I'd compromised his brother-in-law,

the Minister of Transport, Mr. Lacassagne.

And the lawyer d'Alins tried to blackmail me for it.

Therefore I had him eliminated.

Is that what you think?

Poor commissioner.

I didn’t get the contract for the 4,500 million!

Therefore, there was no corruption.

Consequently, he couldn't blackmail me.

What do you have to say now? - Nothing.

You like to talk, and I prefer to listen.

I killed the lawyer d'Alins because I didn’t get the contract?

Is that what you're thinking?

It's a possibility. Yes. - No, it isn't.

Since I’ve already started explaining, let me finish.

I have a lot of money. I gain more and more,

but I feel something's lacking.

Maybe a little respect.

They look askance at me because I'm a foreigner,

a former scrapdealer with muck under his fingernails.

But I bought respect too.

I'm a patron of the arts, I make donations,

to help refugees, to the equinine fraternity,

to Russian writers,

and to the Association for the Preservation of Steam Traction-Engines.

Cheques and more cheques.

And I gained respect.

But something was still missing.

What could it be?

What would make me complete?

Who knows?

Are you going to drink that fucking beer?

You've made me thirsty.

You did that deliberately? - No, not at all.

A false move.

I'm very clumsy.

I'm so pleased. - Of course.

"Of course".

I have no motive because I'm no longer interested in money...

...nor in what it can buy.

You, commissioner, you're not interested in anything.

Nothing that has limits.

You seek the truth, the absolute... that sort of thing.

We could be interesting to each other.

I’m interested in you. Don’t worry about that...

and I'm just getting started.

You'll come a cropper if you reason like a fool.

You're completely insane.

I know.

See you soon.

I know that too. Too bad for you.

Am I interrupting?

Yes, and not for the first time.

You have something to tell me?

Shall we have lunch together?

I'll take you to an amazing restaurant. It's on me.

Jean-François, if you're going to tell me to lay off certain things,

you can go to hell.

You won't listen to me? - Not in the slightest.

Too bad for you.

That's it, too bad for me.

6pm, Gennevilliers' car park.

Who's that?

Fuck! It's Lacassagne.

Well I never!

He could've followed the others, so we could eat in peace.

He's a knave but not a fool. He follows the money.

That fool mustn't be caught with that envelope on him.

Do we kill him?

We don't kill a commissioner, we eradicate him.

I'll report in.

You have integrity, Lacassagne?

Oh yeah!

First warning.

So?

Get off my back.

I'm thinking.

This is like poker. Take too long, it gets boring.

Lie down if you're bored.

Would you rather watch a movie?

Pierre-Henri brought a tape.

'Night of the Living Dead'.

I don't feel like watching a film with a title like that.

Your company's enough for me.

Who could that be?

Go on.

Is your husband in?

Come in.

You're smoking again?

As you can see...

It's not healthy.

I'll make some coffee.

Or would you prefer a beer? - I don't want anything.

Shall I make coffee? - Yes, make some coffee.

So, how can I help?

I think you can. I need your connections.

If I go to a judge, I'll have to wait six months.

I want to question Minister Lacassagne tomorrow.

Really... Is that all?

No. I want to search the address of Philippe d'Alins first thing tomorrow.

I need a warrant right now.

I can see you haven't heard.

What?

Old pal,

you've been suspended since 10pm yesterday.

We're trying to find someone to take over your unit

and the d'Alins' case.

On what grounds?

Officially, some nonsense...

non-standard ammunition,

visiting a home outside legal hours...

You’ll appear at once before the Disciplinary Committee.

If the press stay out of it,

you'll come out of this purer than the driven snow.

You can trust me.

And if I smashed your face in right now?

Try to wise up, otherwise you’ll appear before the Disciplinary Committee

for tapping a phone booth without authorisation.

Violation of secure communications

and violation of privacy. You'll be finished!

It's your choice.

I'm sorry, Martin.

I've tried talking to you as a friend,

but you won't listen.

You bastard! That's acrylic!

Change your rugs. Use wool, you'll see.

Lucienne prefers classy materials.

Have you agreed or not?

Guess.

Yes, I want to make a statement.

I'm not speaking to you as a journalist.

I wish I had more to offer than ravioli,

but with everything that's happened...

Don't worry, Mr. d'Alins. I love ravioli.

Ravioli and truth.

They're my watchwords, Mr. d'Alins... - Call me Philippe.

My watchwords, Philippe,...

are that ravioli was invented in Italy,

but truth was invented all over.

The murder of my father was a mob vendetta.

However this commissioner Griffon

has no interest in investigating the case.

He wants to be important, so he delves into the shit...

That's the only word for it, miss.

...instead of looking in the right direction.

And this worries you?

I'm only worried about the time he's wasting.

I'm not worried. You can quote me.

Digging into the shit will uncover nothing. Nothing! Nothing!

But it's been 20 years since your father prosecuted cases against criminals.

Why seek revenge now? - Time doesn't matter.

Mr. d'Alins... - Philippe.

Stop thinking like a journalist.

Start talking. - What do you mean?

Start talking. - What do you mean?

Do you know a Suzy D'Annunzio?

Surprised?

You thought I was from a good family,

but I can also delve into shit.

It's tough, isn't it, Philippe?

Get out! You'll wake my mother.

And never come back! Never!

Yes?

Guillaume? What're you doing up at this hour?

No, I'm not in the office.

What?

Okay.

Very well. Don't leave the pantry.

Wait until they get here.

Sit down! - Make up your mind.

There's a burglar in the house.

We have a vibration detector in dad's office.

Call the police. - It has.

If the device detects anything,

it alerts the police and our butler.

Shush, you'll wake your mother!

What are you going to do?

Nice job, lieutenant.

What are you doing here? - Watch out...

Put that gun away.

They have a vibration detector.

The police will be here shortly. Hurry up and scram.

Will you cover for me? - Of course.

The police are dumb. Come on, scarper.

What's going on? - Where is he?

Down in the basement!

After him! - He was black.

I'll cover outside.

Yoo-hoo!

What are you up to?

Do you usually leave the door open?

The building has a cat

who likes to drop in.

I leave the door open so he can visit for a chat.

What about us? Could we have a chat?

If I was a scumbag, which is how you regard us journalists,

I'd have a good article for tomorrow.

Such as...

Quote:

"Last night I was present

at an incident unique in police history.

One of the top chiefs, disguised as a thief,

tried to open the safe of the late lawyer d'Alins".

Shall I continue? - What?

This information will be denied,

but it is corroborated".

Okay?

I feel much better.

Well?

Well what? You're not a swine, so it won't be published.

That would be bullshit.

And all this because before I didn’t say thank you?

Good God, how touchy!

My profound thanks.

Thank you. Thank you so much. We're done.

Don’t you think we could exchange information?

I don't work with just anyone.

You're wrong about me, commissioner Griffon.

I was a daddy's girl,

but I've broken with all that and I'm good at my job.

Forgive me.

However...

I cannot work with a journalist.

My findings might interest you.

Such as?

Well, such as...

Philippe d'Alins mortgaged his assets for some ready cash.

He told you this? - No, it wasn't him.

Surprised?

Couldn't you quit smoking?

After you left,

the police wanted to know what had been taken.

Philippe didn’t want to open the safe, but in the end he did.

I got a look inside...

and I saw a big envelope with money inside.

Wads of cash.

Say a number.

Five hundred million.

Could've been.

You see how a collaboration works?

How does it feel, commissioner?

I find you very fuckable.

We should go see Suzy.

As for the rest, we'll see later.

We'll talk?

Later...

Well?

Well...

One of the assassins of lawyer d'Alins wore alligator boots.

As did one of the guys you saw at Suzy’s.

That proves nothing.

Not everyone in París wears boots costing 4000F.

When I see some, I recognise them.

So I suspect did our lawyer.

A supposition.

Hi.

Come on. Put her on the bed.

Suzy...

Do you recognise me?

Griffon.

How many fingers am I holding up? - Two.

Very good.

Stay with me. Come on, come on.

She must've taken quite a few.

These won't kill her.

I'll make some coffee.

Come on! - That hurt.

Come on, speak.

I thought that was Raymond.

Well, no.

I'm a fool. You're not Raymond.

Raymond is dead.

You want to talk about lawyer d'Alins?

I must never talk about Raymond.

I have to forget him.

That's an order.

An order from whom?

Come on!

An order from... - Is everything okay?

Obviously. Couldn't be better.

What happened?

I have another solution.

I’ll have her hospitalized and put her under surveillance.

Suicide attempt and accomplice to murder.

You'll see how she starts talking.

Think I'll agree to this? - I don't give a fuck.

Careful...

Feminine solidarity, is it?

You want me to throw the coffee at you?

Okay.

Our collaboration didn't last long. I'll come back alone.

At a legal hour. Is that okay with you?

So long, dolls.

Here, dearie.

Here. Come on, sit up.

You need to drink this.

It'll wake you up. Go on, babe.

A few sips.

Do you understand now?

Yes, I understand.

If you cooperate with those who killed Raymond d'Alins, it’s your business.

But if you want to tell me the truth...

...want to see it published,...

...you know where to find me.

Call me.

Wait.

Stay.

Listen...

I'm not a cop.

Take some time to think it over.

If you decide to tell me,

you know where to contact me, okay?

My telephone's out. I feel I'm being watched

Come and see me. I'll tell you everything. Suzy.

Stop! Don't continue.

It would be embarrassing.

What are you doing here?

You thought I'd leave it there with Suzy?

You see, she's exactly

the sort of girl who hates the police.

It’s the eternal law of the underworld, the law of silence.

That’s why I left, to allow a chat between girls.

Then I called the central registry

they gave me your address, and I came to wait for you in comfort.

Now, tell me what Suzy said.

She didn't say anything.

That's not true.

I'm not sure if you're amusing or exasperating

but I know one thing:

you're a good journalist.

Therefore I'm sure she talked.

You gained her trust. Otherwise you wouldn't be back so soon.

Trust...

you are a wretch.

Come on, spill the beans. What's the matter with you?

We said we'd work together, right?

I want my culprits and you your scoop.

Poor fool...

I left her to choose.

I told her to think about it and I left her my number and my address

if she decided to avenge Raymond d'Alins.

That's what I did.

Fuck!

I think you are capable of doing something so stupid.

Taxi!

Are you crazy? - Please.

American university?

Degree in journalism?

You left the USA, but still have the accent.

And the look.

What's this?

US too?

That's... over with.

Not so long ago.

Miss, your change!

Good evening, Suzy.

How are you?

It's my fault.

It's not your fault.

Your tactics were good. But it didn't work.

Years ago,

during an operation,

I shot a passerby in the stomach.

The police called it "a stray bullet";

and the press, "police brutality".

It was also the right tactic.

Did he die?

The passerby? Yes.

As did Suzy.

Well...

Decidedly...

Why? Why?

There's no "why" these days.

The police are licked.

They teach us laws to combat other laws.

But the underworld has no laws anymore.

It's all mixed up.

Political ideals, terrorism, drugs...

They'd kill their own mother for a gram.

And you know the worst part?

They enjoy it.

Another bout? - No, thanks. I'm good.

With me, minister?

It'll be a pleasure.

Are you a rookie or what?

Depends on what you mean, minister.

I didn't know how to approach you.

Commissioner Griffon, Criminal Unit.

The Crime? - Yes.

It’s about the d'Alins case. Can we discuss it?

We shouldn't be disturbed here.

Did you know a Suzy D'Annunzio?

One moment.

Minister! - One moment! I'm not leaving.

Would you leave, Bertrand?

And make sure nobody comes in.

Certainly, Mr. Lacassagne.

I'll have an orange.

Of course.

You said Suzy D'Annunzio?

She was a high class prostitute.

My brother-in-law kept her. He told me about her.

Poor Raymond had no self-control.

He insisted on telling me the filthy things he did.

What about that little whore?

Your brother-in-law’s killers burned her alive, Minister.

They burned her because she'd decided

to tell the whole truth about the murder of Raymond d'Alins.

That little whore, minister,

had decided to tell the truth.

Do you still despise her, minister?

Ah, no... You can despise her.

Honest Lacassagne.

The incorruptible man, with a conscience.

You don't believe it?

A conscience and politics, minister...

This offends you? - It offends my cop's nose.

Maybe my nose has gone missing. - Maybe.

Think about it, commissioner.

Wouldn’t your investigation be simpler if I were considered a person of integrity?

Listen well, cop.

I'll tell you the truth.

Wait, wait. Think carefully, minister.

I'm sick of all this too,

all the corpses and the rest of it.

If you remain silent, I'll go and...

No, too late.

Okay, I'm listening.

A few months ago, my brother-in-law, the lawyer Raymond d'Alins,

was facing, because of his adulterous relationship,

a bad financial situation.

He panicked.

He got the idea of putting together a deal between my ministry

and an important manufacturer of railway equipment.

You want a name, I suppose?

CGCI, Avram Kazavian.

It was about supporting that entrepreneur with a big state order.

You want a figure? - 4,500 million.

Good...

I'm freed from making the more disagreeable parts of my statement.

This is not a statement, minister.

It's just an informal chat.

The tragic murder of this girl

wasn't just some random occurrence, right?

My brother-in-law had lost all sense of reality

and sent me half the bribe he received.

When they dared to believe they could compromise me,

I intervened personally

to exclude Kazavian's company from the tender.

You see, commissioner?

I really am the honest Lacassagne...

you just mocked.

However you kept 250 million.

Yes.

I made the mistake of letting that money into my house.

Nobody touched it.

I just gave it back to my brother-in-law’s son.

Since it was dirty money and you're an honest man,

why did you keep it so long?

Why didn't you return it, for example,

before the murder of your brother-in-law?

I think I wanted to teach him a lesson.

And one might say he got one, right?

Yes, minister.

Raymond d'Alins, Suzy D'Annunzio... two dead.

Three, if we count the informant of Fleury-Mérogis.

Honest Lacassagne can be proud.

This is good.

I like very juicy fruit.

Deep down I think I'm lascivious.

Are you Christian?

I was raised in Calvinism and then I became a Lutheran.

But I think deep down, secretly,

I'm lascivious.

Austerity, copper, gives me great pleasure.

Can we get back to more concrete questions?

There are one or two things... - What? What's up?

Is your investigation being hindered?

Have you been suspended? Have you been assigned an inspector?

Do you find yourself followed by thugs dogging your every move?

Well, what did you expect?

I'm a fucking minister!

The world's eyes are on me!

My colleagues, Interior,

the Secret Service, Intelligence...

They're all up to their necks in the shit of the d'Alins' case.

And they all want me protected.

Or me caught. Or both at the same time.

And half of them send me confidential memos and notes.

What do you want? This is how it works.

That's how things are.

Are you done? - Yes.

Will you repeat all that before an investigating judge?

No...

No, I don't like repeating myself.

And when a man who revealed all this...

he becomes a dead man.

Don't you think you're exaggerating?

Mr. Griffon,...

would you be so kind as to pour me a whiskey?

God, forgive me for offending you.

And forgive me for this greater offence.

Shit!

What an asshole I am!

Martin Griffon.

You know what?

You're a real bastard.

I was in a state of shock.

I was out of it, and you took advantage.

That's it.

Eh?

Lieutenant?

Lieutenant?

Where've you gone?

I'm finished.

After this, they'll kick me out.

Discreetly, of course. Six months from now.

But I'm finished.

No, cabinet manager.

May I suggest something? - I want Griffon's head.

And your's. You were meant to be watching him!

I'm a cabinet manager on the scrapheap.

Calm down and listen.

We'll put Griffon back on active service.

I have a plan. Let me explain...

With a kitchen knife? - Yes.

And why are you telling me?

Because I owe you something. - Because of last night?

It was free. Anything else you want?

For you to love me, silly girl.

What a pain...

Reporting. Speak... - Sybille Berger.

What's happened, sweetie? - Lacassagne committed suicide.

Lacassagne? - Lacassagne. The minister of Transport.

I've not received a telex. - I'm telling you.

AFP hasn't reported it.

My source is reliable. Lacassagne committed suicide. Hold everything.

To recap...

according to my source, Philippe d'Alins will be here tomorrow morning.

He'll meet with two men, who we must apprehend,

to whom he must deliver a large sum of money.

Starting at 6am,

we'll tail Philippe d'Alins and cordon off the area.

We'll stop everything that moves.

Officially, it's an I.D. check.

Be careful, lads.

These...

These guys are dangerous. Take every precaution.

You hear what I'm saying? Don't forget it.

Right. Everyone clear?

Any questions?

You don't say!

Yes?

Normally, when you say we're acting

on a source, you tell us who.

Our source is 100% reliable.

It's an internal source.

Secret Service? Special Branch perhaps?

The important thing is that the information is accurate, gentlemen.

Break it up, lads.

Go and get something to eat. Gómez, in my office.

Sorry, man.

I’ll reprimand the lad. He shouldn’t have provoked you.

Okay.

See you later.

The last.

The proof...

A gift.

Gómez, do you trust me?

Of course. - Are you an idiot?

Being an idiot isn't the worst thing.

This morning we'll stop nobody.

I don't want to bust these guys.

I want to follow them to their boss.

Kazavian? - Yes, you got it.

To catch him.

You're not such an idiot then, Gómez.

You won't find a bigger idiot than me.

Okay, spread the word. Let the lads know...

Anything else? - Yes.

You'll be alone during the operation...

Where's my pencil?

So you'll be taking a passenger.

Here it is. A written order.

A female passenger.

What? Ah, yes.

You bring women on operations now?

It’s not just any woman. Worse, she's a journalist.

Don't you see why?

If I was less stupid, I'd say that you're using the press

in case Rambert doesn't like us moving on Kazavian.

But since I am completely stupid,

I'll just carry out orders, chief, and imagine it must be a love thing.

Stop right there! Let’s not overdo it.

A sex thing then? - That's better, Gómez.

At least it's not worse.

Pilot Fish 1 to Moby Dick.

The whale emerged with two envelopes.

Roger that, pilot fish.

Standing by. Over.

Trawler to Moby Dick. Are you receiving?

This is Moby Dick. Receiving you.

I'm stuck in traffic on Porte d'Italie.

If I'm late, do what you can.

Count on me, Jean-François. - Received, Moby Dick. Out.

Coward.

No, thanks.

Sure I can't talk to your boss?

Yes, I'm sure.

Not by radio?

We're all on the same frequency. You can talk to everyone.

You like the idea? - Not much.

Give me a cigarette then. - Here's one.

You chose well.

It'll give you cancer, but it doesn't let you down.

Moby Dick. Moby Dick. This is Pilot Fish.

Moby Dick here.

A grey Lancia has just arrived with two strangers. Over.

It must be them.

Yes, it's them.

Nobody move. Remain on standby.

Received? Over.

He's late.

We're 90 seconds early.

I don't like this. No, sir.

Mr. Kazavian has it all arranged.

Cut that out, man.

I don't like this.

Your problem is you're easily scared.

This makes us a good team.

In a good team there needs to be

one who acts and one who's scared.

Okay, I'm scared.

But I don't like this.

Here he is.

Anyone there?

Hello, Philippe. How are you doing?

You have the money? - Ah, yes, the money.

Put it down there, pal.

And now, I do what? - Scram.

Scram.

Fire.

Miss, watch out!

Put this on, for god's sake!

Martin. Are you hurt?

No.

The operation was a complete success.

Inspector Gómez is dead.

Yes, however...

even so, it's a success.

What about the money?

What money?

The 500 million.

What 500 million?

I'll kill you, Jean-François.

You're mad, Martin.

Gentlemen, commissioner Griffon is wounded.

In any event, it's a success. A great success!

I can say this morning

that the republic's police have resolved quickly

what some wanted to call a murky business

that they have dubbed "the d'Alins' affair".

There's no d'Alins' affair.

Under my personal direction,

commissioner Griffon, of the Crime Squad

has closed for good

this crime that was in his charge.

And on this we must send our congratulations, ladies and gentlemen,

to him who even now is fighting for life in a hospital bed.

He split his own blood

but more concerned about the honour of the police

than he was about his own safety,

commissioner Griffon wanted to catch them in the act.

Gentlemen, I'll shed no tears

over the death of the murderers of lawyer Raymond d'Alins.

However allow me to extend condolences

for the others who fell:

Police officer Antoine Gómez

and Philippe d'Alins who, just like his father,

would not surrender to the blackmail of his murderers.

Before their mortal remains,

I ask you to observe a minute's silence. Thank you.

You've said nothing about the motive. - That is all.

What about the suicide of the minister?

No comment.

Who are you covering for? - Answer the question!

Who were the killers?

Is that the lot? - Yes.

Are you armed? - Not against you.

I'll check it later. You must go.

We'll discuss the details later. - Yes.

The garage was not pleasant.

I know. You must go.

Nobody's going anywhere.

Don't do it, Rambert.

I told you, Jean-François.

You're under arrest, Kazavian.

The muck under our fingernails remains invisible.

Why are you here?

Because I want you to love me.