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MAX AND THE JUNKMEN

Nice of you to drop in, Bellin.

- You're off? - Yes...

as soon as I've finished my report.

They say he'll be tested?

Yes, of course. He'll be tested...

and asked to explain.

Let's hope he was mad.

Partly my fault...

but Max was...

Max was no ordinary policeman.

One dead, one wounded. We'll see to him.

They got the lot, 80 grand.

They'd just brought it in.

They're cunning bastards.

The fourth one this month.

Sir, Max here.

No, sir.

We missed them again.

One killed.

I'm on my way.

What happened?

My informer tricked me.

Renardot?

Yes.

He told me about Carmona. Renardot's not a cop.

Carmona got suspicious...

and made him talk.

He's smart.

Instead of canceling the job...

he changed the place.

That's all.

So I'm the sucker...

once again.

What can I say, Max?

Nothing, sir.

No need to say anything.

We ought to have picked 'em up beforehand.

And the cashier wouldn't be dead.

All we could charge them with was stealing a car.

They might have done 18 months.

We have to catch 'em red-handed or not at all!

I know, Max.

They're not pleased upstairs.

Worried about my future, eh?

Max, you'll have better luck next time.

When Carmona's 70.

Forget Carmona.

You missed him this time.

But there's not only Carmona.

What about all the others?

All those who steal and kill...

under our very noses.

They're professionals.

They know their job.

We do a job too.

It's no good if we don't catch 'em red-handed.

No good.

All I catch are amateurs.

I'm no good with the big-timers.

Let's go for lunch.

I've finished my report on that business of the cellar.

Well, Max, no luck, eh?

At least you're in good health.

They're idiots, Max.

Idiots versus crooks!

Take no notice.

We've found Renardot.

Stabbed to death.

My informer.

Coffee.

Where?

Behind an Algerian hotel.

That's that.

What about the guy who sold 'em the car?

Think he'll lead us to Carmona?

I didn't say that, Max.

But you ought to go and see him.

Of course I must.

No detail must ever be neglected.

It's our job.

Who did I sell a car to?

Carmona.

- Never heard of him. - The car came from here.

Red D.S. 755 UE 75. Remember?

I'll look up my books.

- Who'd you sell it to? - A customer.

What customer?

A guy...

who sold it to another guy who sold it to another guy...

who sold it to Carmona.

Maybe. I don't know.

Time goes by...

The buyer's name.

You sell second-hand cars.

Don't you give receipts?

I know you'll say it's just chicken feed paid in cash...

It happens.

It's illegal.

No log books. They're stolen.

You've sold a dozen of 'em.

We're taking you in.

Not that!

Why not?

If I tell you something.

What?

The guy who sold it to me is there.

- Where? - There!

Finished playing the fool?

Where will he lead me to?

Back to you, eh?

Not to Carmona.

Not a chance.

- Poor you. - It's not a stolen car.

What's he doing here anyhow?

He's come back for the rest of his money.

You'll do this. Give him his money.

Pretend to be the bookkeeper. Let him go. I'll see to him.

And me?

Go with the Inspector. Explain about your stolen cars.

Got a light?

Remember me? Abel!

41st Colonial Infantry...

the bar at Lyons...

Well, what a surprise!

Must be 20 years ago!

No, I'd left Edith. Seventeen, rather.

Yes, 17.

I wasn't sure it was you.

- Older, eh? - No, you've changed.

I recognized the eyes.

Remember the old gang?

Seen any of 'em?

Nor have I. Life is odd!

Good old Max.

What a surprise!

Let's celebrate it.

What are you in?

Two doubles, please.

Weren't you going to be a judge?

- I gave it up. -what are you doing?

In business.

Doing well?

Not bad.

And you?

In business too, but not the same.

How so?

Scrap merchant.

I've done a thing or two in the last 17 years.

I live in Nanterre.

I work in scrap.

What sort?

Rather special.

There's a whole gang of us.

We arrange things.

We get by.

How so?

We sell all sorts of scrap... iron, copper, aluminum.

Where d'you get it?

Here and there.

Building sites, depots.

Cut up cars too.

And all this stuff...

do you buy it?

Not always.

Not often?

Not often, no.

That's funny.

Go on. Another one, please.

- It pays well? - Not much!

The boss lends us his truck. We just get the leavings.

Sometimes I sell a car that's missing. Just sold one.

Not what you'd call a great career!

What happened?

I don't know how to tell you.

I was always unlucky. Everything I've done has gone wrong.

I've tried everything.

One day I thought...

I'd killed a fellow.

I was in business with him. He gambled away all the profits.

So I hit him.

I thought he was dead.

So I joined the Foreign Legion. Ten years.

And he wasn't dead.

Ten years in the Legion for nothing. How do you like that?

- Ten years? - Yeah.

Indochina, Algeria, the whole nine yards.

Then there was a woman.

Where are you going?

Nanterre.

Share a taxi?

I'm going to Étoile.

Shall we?

Your business of copper and cars...

- What if you’re caught? - Eighteen months. That's all.

But it's all so amateurish.

Lots of risk for very little profit.

We're careful.

If I were you, I'd do otherwise.

How so?

On a bigger scale.

You're kidding.

Our small time jobs are easy.

Doing the big stuff needs organization.

It's a job on its own.

Everything is, Abel.

No matter what you are...

grocer, gangster, cop or priest, they're all jobs.

Let's meet again one day. You never know.

Got a pen?

It's a café I go to.

Here.

Stop at the corner.

- How much? -100 Francs, sir.

Keep the rest for Nanterre.

- You're not... - Forget it.

You'll call me?

Where in Nanterre?

Just before the bridge. I'll show you the way.

Who are these amateurs?

Juvenile delinquents.

We don't know them.

Know any amateurs?

Yes, sir, I know one.

Who wants to pull off a big job?

That's new.

Yes, it's new.

What job?

I don't know.

Nor does he.

But I know he wants to.

He told me.

Known him long?

Yes. I ran into him yesterday.

What does he do?

Scrap merchant. Steals cars and scrap with a gang.

Before doing anything, get more information.

Know where he lives?

Nanterre.

Rosinsky's there.

You don't know him.

We served together.

I haven't seen him for 10 years.

Must be an inspector by now.

He'll know everybody in that area.

He must be about 50.

Ah, Inspector!

A beer?

Your turn to play.

- No trumps? - Yes.

Why not play them?

- Afraid of Rosinsky? - Don't give a damn.

I've even got the nine.

Lucky bastard!

Science, old cock.

Why not finesse?

There's another spade.

You'd have won the round.

It was risky.

But it was there.

Should have finessed.

What's that?

That's our column.

Made a mistake.

Not on purpose.

I said nothing when you did it.

I'll buy a drink.

A small café run by an ex-madam, Mrs. Saidani.

It's there they meet.

They hang around playing kid's games.

Happy doing nothing.

Just a lot of dropouts.

- They work? - No.

They steal three-ton reels of copperwire

and cut up cars with blow torches...

Not dangerous?

Some of them may be,

but generally they give no trouble.

I've got no complaints.

Do you know a certain Maresco? Abel Maresco.

Oh, yes, an ex-legionnaire.

With the scrap merchant gang.

- You want him? - No.

But we've been informed he's going to pull off a big job.

Do you have informers in the café?

I've one who spends his whole time there.

But he hasn't told me anything.

I know it's true.

Tell me about this gang.

How many of them? Let's have details about them.

Not so easy.

Why?

They are an odd mixture...

always changing.

A central core...

with satellites revolving round it.

The core.

The core...

are those who work...

with Benassard.

Who's he?

He's the guy who rents them his truck.

Makes twice what they do...

without getting his feet wet.

How many in the gang?

Six or seven.

There's Abel Maresco.

We know about him. The others?

There's Tony, Antoine Chantoiseau.

He's Maresco's pal. Always together.

Old professional boxer.

Three convictions for pimping.

Left his wife and three kids to live with an old whore who pays him.

Just a poor type.

Then there's Louis Serafino, Little Lu.

He's different.

An illiterate brute.

He was seven when his dad was guillotined.

In prison dozens of times.

Last time in a cell with a cop killer.

Not very clever of the Prison Authority.

You're right.

I also suspect him of having killed a man...

but I couldn't prove it.

That makes three. Go on.

Jean-Marie Patinette, Jeanjean, Serafino's sidekick.

No fixed address.

He encourages Serafino to do things.

He made him kill that man.

And just for kicks. They gained nothing from it.

Well, well!

He's spiteful, but not bad.

How can I explain? Seems to like it.

He's not quite all there.

The rest?

Guy Loranger, the youngest, 24.

He's a student, or rather was.

He first went to the café to convert people

and ended up staying there.

Last, there's the son of Mrs. Saidani who runs the café.

Bob. Lives with his mother.

Spends his time driving and smashing the cars his mom buys him.

Good-looking, big smile, and no brains.

He's always with Dromedary.

Dromedary?

That's my informer, Cyriaque.

A real piece of work.

He has several women working for him.

That's everyone.

A fine team.

Not bad.

Six guys capable of pulling off a job.

What sort of job?

A holdup.

I don't see them at it.

Not the Bank of France. A little amateur holdup.

They're small-fry.

But they may grow up.

With all this unpunished crime on page one'

it's no wonder if such riffraff think "why not us?"

That's right.

When that day comes...

I want to be there.

Of course.

Not to kill them,

but to catch 'em red-handed with minimum risk.

That might make others think, eh?

What's my role in this?

Simple.

Draw up a description of each of them...

and keep them under supervision by your... Dromedary.

That's all.

That's all.

Sorry to be a nuisance.

But glad to see you.

Supposing they don't.

I don't think they're cut out for the big stuff.

I wouldn't count on 'em.

Then we won't have to worry.

- It's true, Max. - What is?

They may take a long time to...

Yes, till they find a victim.

So we must help them to find one.

Help them?

- Careful, Max. - Yes, I know it's not easy.

I mustn't see Abel or the gang again till the day...

they pull off the job.

Then how will you manage?

I don't know.

- Using the car? - No, want it?

Don't see much of you.

Yes, I come in late.

Here's your check. I was in Lyons.

Where'd I put it?

Cecile is expecting a baby at Christmas.

- That makes five. - Yes, they're pleased.

Good wine crop. Your dad says it's the best for the last 20 years.

He'll send you another check soon.

You ought to write...

Any girls?

Yes, four...

Ida, Nicole, Jeannette and Lily.

What are they?

Prostitutes.

Interest you?

- Who's with Abel Maresco? - Lily.

A German.

Born in Hamburg in 1941.

Father killed in the war.

Been here three years.

She lives with Abel, but works mainly in Étoile.

Started working the streets in Munich in '59.

Found her in '61 with a guy who made her take drugs...

street walking, drink, drugs.

Attempted suicide in '65...

Then she met Abel, ex-legionnaire.

Her pimp was in jail but his pals were watching her.

Abel half-killed one of 'em,

so they both ran away from Germany that very night

and landed here.

Now, Nanterre is home.

She didn't look like much when she arrived,

but she's improved.

Now she's back on the streets.

He lets her, but doesn't take a penny.

Nanterre may not be much...

but she likes being at Saidani's café.

The gang respects her...

and she wasn't used to that.

She's quite a queen among them.

- How much? -20.

How much for you?

As much as you can.

How much is that?

No limit.

A million, if you like. Minimum is 100.

Don't bother.

What?

Don't bother getting undressed.

You don't want to?

What do we do?

Nothing...

Just relax.

Something wrong?

No, why?

I don't know...

We do nothing?

I like cards, but I don't have time now.

Why then?

I found you pretty.

Haven't you friends to play cards?

Yes...

too many of them.

But...

What?

Never mind.

What?

Don't you ever do it?

Not with girls I pay.

Hasn't this happened to you before?

Not often.

Well, once.

There was a journalist.

What's your name?

Lily.

You're well-heeled.

300 Francs for doing nothing.

Does it bother you?

And what's your name?

Felix.

And what does Felix do?

Guess.

I can't imagine. Journalist?

Doctor?

Lawyer?

Dairyman?

Sure you don't want to?

You won't change your mind?

Give me a hand.

Jeweler?

Cop?

I don't know.

Politician? Banker?

Right.

You're a banker?

You must be rich.

Fairly.

You get sun all morning.

Madame Cramer only lives here three months a year.

She lives in Switzerland.

It's tastefully furnished

and the rent is reasonable,

considering how comfortable it is.

There's the kitchen.

Very little noise.

Bathroom.

A doctor lives on the right.

Plenty of cupboards.

- It's lovely. - I wouldn't go that far.

Make yourself at home.

A drink? Whiskey? Champagne?

No, red wine.

It's pretty.

So here's where you live.

No, just a little hideout.

For the girls, eh?

Where's the bank?

Rue d'Argonne.

- Want an account? - Perhaps.

Haven't I the right?

It's not a very big bank.

Just a local branch.

- No money in it? - Yes, too much sometimes.

There are the wholesalers.

The wholesale meat merchants from the market.

Help yourself.

There's the money.

Take it.

Take what you want.

May I?

Can I take a bath?

Make yourself at home.

- All right? - Yes...

I'd like to live in a bath.

- I knew it. - Knew what?

You don't make love. You're a pervert.

No, a photographer.

Turn your head. No, like that.

Go on washing.

I don't like it.

Only the head. Nothing else.

Speak to me. Don't smile anymore.

- Just talk. - It's not easy.

Suppose I'd taken 1,000 from the table...

Why not try?

Wait.

Sit on the edge.

Not bad.

Close your eyes.

Open.

Beautiful eyes. Back in the water.

Say something.

It's nice to be rich.

Who doesn't think so?

Money, money, money!

One should make lots of money. You do too.

It's not the same.

Yes, it is.

What's wrong is not to make it...

when you can...

and to be broke at 40.

What about luck?

Luck? You make your own luck.

An unlucky man deserves it.

Just a fool.

Or perhaps not just a fool.

Luck is an excuse for laziness or lack of courage...

and guts.

You agree?

Where do you live?

Nanterre.

Alone?

Got a boyfriend?

What does he do?

Just lives.

You work for him?

Oh, no, I'm independent.

And your money?

I spend it. I love that.

I put some away...

in the bank.

So you should.

Game of cards?

What?

Poker or rummy.

Gin rummy. I'll get dressed.

- How much a point? - One Franc to start.

You know what we'll do next time?

You'll take a bath and I'll take pictures.

Champagne!

Strange.

It's as if...

- What are you going to do with them? - Sell them, for a good price.

Five of diamonds.

Who taught you?

Friends, pal.

How many?

Maximum.

Aces. 30, 40, 50, 58 less 3, 55. In spades...

-110. - That's very good.

Married? Any children?

Divorced. No children.

Diamonds.

Then all you've got is your bank.

Egoist...

Felix the egoist.

Taking that?

Just to annoy you.

Good idea.

- Big gin. - Bastard!

I'm sorry.

It doesn't matter.

The sponge.

I always do something silly.

Here, it's okay.

And it's on the carpet.

It really doesn't matter.

Shall we go on?

We'll do what you like.

You're a great guy.

Did your wife love you?

I've no idea.

That's damned funny.

- What? - Nothing much.

A pal of mine...

been robbed.

Think that's funny? A pal?

Not him, his bank.

40 million.

A gang came in, took two minutes.

And the police?

What can the police do?

They can't guard all the banks.

Aren't you afraid?

Only on market days.

Is that often?

Twice a month.

Your pal must be mad about it.

Why? He's insured.

So nobody cares.

Why Nanterre?

I like it there.

You could find better.

I'm all right there.

I'm parked over there.

I won't see you next week.

- Don't you love me anymore? - I'm off to New York.

I'll call you when I get back.

- I wonder if you’re normal. - Normal?

Sure you're a man?

They're not there.

- Sure? - We'd have seen them.

They've gone to the new site near the factory.

I'll take over.

We had to change places.

I'm coming.

Just five minutes.

What a business. My poor boots.

Damn.

- What's the matter? - Worn out.

And all for nothing. I owe so much I won't get a penny.

You never do anything to make money.

You won't take mine.

I haven't reached that level yet.

Then go and get it yourself.

Not in your wretched scrap trade.

You'll have to get out of it sometime.

The money's in the banks.

Then crack a bank.

You're funny.

I'm not funny, Abel, and neither are you.

What's the matter?

You can't go on like this, Abel.

And I'm not sure I can.

Go on like what?

Spending my life with a man

who has no ambition.

It's not for the money.

It's for you.

You make me laugh.

It's always the same.

If you have a bad manager,

you never have good fights.

You, with your old girl, can always eat.

I'm not complaining,

but it's not free, I have to do my part.

How Tony must suffer.

- What's with him? Gonna cry? - No.

But sometimes I think of the good ol' days...

No kidding! I was well-known in society.

And all of a sudden, I'm at a dead end.

Well, we're not supermen...

What can we do about it?

I'm like Abel.

I'd like to make a packet and get out.

Where to?

I don't know. Brazil, Venezuela, anywhere.

Just need to know how to pull it off.

Can't play the game if you don't know the rules.

True.

Well, not always.

What d'you say to a holdup, Tony?

It's all I think of each night in bed with the old lady.

What's the fuss? It's easy.

Bash the old girl over the head and take off with her dough.

You think I didn't think of that?

She's not dumb. There's not a penny in the joint.

It's all in the bank.

Anyone gonna give me a hand?

Never ends with that fool.

You took the photos down?

I like a change.

Is it broken?

And New York?

What about it?

Nice town?

What's a nice town?

I'm just asking.

All the trash cans, the Blacks,

cops...

yellow cabs...

dirty everywhere...

and the whores, but they're everywhere.

Even in New York?

Yes, even there.

Will it be much longer?

Much longer.

Nothing to drink in the house.

Why am I here?

What am I doing here?

I like company.

Costs you a packet.

With a pretty girl, it's worth it.

Well, I don't give a damn.

I've never met a man like you.

You've never paid attention.

Were you like this with your wife?

Yes, always.

Married for long?

Not very long.

Still see her?

Mind me asking?

It's of no interest.

If you won't even talk, why do I stay?

I pay you, don't I?

It's your job.

You're a dirty bastard.

What? But it's true.

It's your job.

It's not my job to watch a madman repair a clock or take stupid pictures.

My job’s as good as yours.

I may be a whore but not for just anybody.

Give your money to others. I'm through.

What's up?

Nothing.

Not with the guys?

The truck's done for.

Oh, the truck.

Coming to bed?

What you thinking about?

Nothing.

Just all that stuff.

What you said the other night.

I even told the guys.

It's just: What?

We can't just hold up the first guy we come across.

I have an idea.

My banker. I told you about him.

I can find a bank without your help.

But we can't just go and rob a bank.

This is a small branch.

The money comes in twice a month.

A lot?

He said so...

About 20 to 30 million.

Twice a month...

D'you know what days?

Rue d'Argonne, you said.

- It's all set? - It looks like it.

- When does it go down? - I have no idea.

Don't talk nonsense.

I'm not. You know me, sir.

I know you only too well.

I tell you what I've heard.

They're talking about it but...

they've not said when.

Known him long?

Max?

Ten years or so. Just after you left.

Eleven years then.

Max is worth knowing.

He was a judge in Lyons...

before he joined the police.

What a sacrifice.

Didn't matter to him.

He has a private income.

Judge, eh?

Why did he give it up?

One day he was obliged to free a murderer.

- He knew he was guilty. - Lack of proof.

I know.

He couldn't take it.

Since then, he's been obsessed with cast-iron proof.

No secretary?

I had one. She's left.

Ah, there he is.

- Well? - It's a bank.

- What did I say? - Bravo.

Where? When?

A local branch near the meat market.

What day?

They don't know.

Then we're no further forward.

We can't very well tell 'em the best day.

Obviously.

Anyhow, they're determined to do it.

The girl will find out from the guy.

- What girl? What guy? - The banker, one of her clients.

Lily.

Oh, I see.

Well, that's fine.

Beer, Max?

See you, Jean.

I'll show myself out.

So, keep at it and let me know.

See you.

You're the banker?

Yes, sir.

- What's the bank like? - Ideal.

Narrow streets, easy to block.

- Traveler's checks. - Exchange counter, opposite.

Right, listen up. It's a small place.

A small branch with one counter...

and a cash desk.

It's like the one near the station.

Any money there?

The wholesale meat market is round the corner.

- How many staff? - About three or four I saw.

Now here's a map of the streets.

Crossroads here.

This is it, the bank's there.

You go in through double doors.

There's the counter.

The cash desk is here.

- There's no street there. - Don't interrupt. That's inside.

That's easy enough.

So along we come. One stays in the car.

And one keeps watch at the door.

So we go in.

What do we say?

We say, "It's a holdup." They'll understand.

When they see the guns...

You're not in it.

I'd have liked to but I can't.

- You're scared. - What?

Shut up, both of you!

Or I'll drop the whole thing.

Keep calm, Abel.

Right. We'll need a large bag for the notes.

And we'll have guns?

Yes, I'm afraid we have to.

We'll ask Brahim.

What if the cash is in a safe?

They'll open it.

- What if they don't? - Knock 'em on the head.

A little tap on the head. They'll understand.

What if it goes wrong?

Goes wrong?

Well, if the cashier rings a bell...

- Then we fire. - We fire if they move a finger?

Better not.

If we don't, we'll go to prison.

We'd be fools to fire.

The big shots manage without it.

- Just frighten 'em. - That's it.

When's it for?

When? I don't know yet.

I'm here.

You didn't want to see me.

I came all the same.

The key was in the lock.

Good.

I won't try to understand.

Why should you?

You like me all of a sudden?

I always did.

Later on...

what will you do?

Later?

I don't know.

It depends.

I'll see.

I have some money saved up.

Not as much as you, but I have.

Don't give me any more money.

I'll come for nothing.

I don't think you're right.

You think you know me.

You don't know me, Lily.

Not at all.

True.

And yet it would be quite easy...

This one doesn't work.

The clip?

You have to oil them first.

The rag.

Guys, if the banker doesn't talk, we'll have these guns on our hands.

Flog 'em to Brahim.

Why not holdup something else?

- Are you nuts? - What else?

I don't know. The supermarket.

Good idea. We know how it's run.

Lots of dough at the end of the day.

20,000 at the most, divided by six.

Well, there are other possibilities.

Let's think.

I got an idea. Let's hold up Bob's mother.

Look at his face.

You don't know my mother.

She's not afraid of you.

Go into the ring with her and see what you get.

I tell you what.

The new service station.

Car rentals, restaurant. There's a packet there.

Crazy idiot! Give me that!

I just shot at the truck.

Silly bastard!

- Who let him go? - I did. I didn't think...

From now on, Tony keeps all the guns.

If Old Ma Pillet heard, she'll tell the cops...

Well, now they've formed a real gang.

And my informer's not in it.

- Has he been found out? - No, they don't suspect him.

And?

And they may not tell him their plans. That's all.

I thought you said that you were sure of him.

I still am...

but not of the others.

They've changed character.

They have guns now.

You think they'd try it with slingshots?

They won't do a job in a hurry.

Shall I drop you off?

I don't understand.

Everyone's ready. Them, you, me.

We just need the date. And that's up to you.

Yes, sir.

So what are you waiting for?

Stop fooling around.

It's not so easy.

Phone, Lily.

Felix here. You busy?

Sorry, I can't see you Tuesday.

I'll have to work late.

Wednesday is the day when the money comes in.

Can you hear me?

See you next week. Or I'll call you.

Right, call me then.

Have a drink?

No thanks.

He's beside me.

Not fooling you?

No.

He was there with them?

Yes, the whole evening.

She didn't even mention it.

Call me when you have any news.

She didn't tell them.

Well, now.

What's the matter?

What's wrong?

Tell me.

Just a bunch of kids.

They want to hold up a pharmacy now.

I don't know where this'll all end up.

It's all my fault. I shouldn't have...

What?

Seeing him tonight?

I think so, yes.

Should I turn off the light?

Excuse me, I'm off.

In a hurry?

Here, the girls are always in a hurry.

Go abroad. It's not the same.

Why should I? I'm in Paris.

Give me a hand.

I remember one day...

No, it wasn't there. Where was it?

Tell me next time.

Wednesday.

- Where are they? - With Little Lu.

Tony goes on ahead.

Don't leave the bus stop.

You're waiting for a bus.

We arrive with the car.

Who steals it?

Bob, okay?

404 or ID? ID's better, eh?

Yes, if possible.

When you see us, give a signal to let us know all's clear.

What signal?

Scratch your nose or something.

I'll do that.

When we get out, you join Bob at the car.

Engine running.

We go into the bank and take out our guns.

I shout to the staff to put up their hands.

Jean goes behind with the bag.

You and Guy keep the staff covered.

Keep an eye on the cashier because of the bell.

- Cashier, okay. - The cashier and the door.

Right. Both of 'em.

And the rest is easy.

We pocket the dough

and then just fade away.

- I say... - What?

Nothing. I can imagine it all.

It's essential that all of you reconnoiter the sector.

You all have photos?

They'll come from there. we'll track them with radio cars.

No uniforms there.

You local units are not to budge from there, there and there.

We let 'em in and catch 'em as they go.

You go into the bank as a customer and wait.

The manager's informed.

Don't bring out your gun.

The movers start work at 9:30.

Serigny with me.

You block the road with your car

when the fun starts.

- All set? - Yes, no problems.

Any questions?

Right. Tomorrow at 7:00 a.m.

They don't stand a chance.

Not much of one.

Need me anymore?

No. See you tomorrow.

Perfect.

It's time to go.

Well, so long, guys.

Got everything?

A last drink?

He mustn't drink.

I think we're all set.

- Hell. - What's up?

Go and see.

It's an accident.

Lots of cops there.

Shit!

Another coffee?

What about you?

Damn.

- Must be a mess. - He's not even hurt.

Look at the girl.

Have a nice time!

Stop fooling around.

- If that cop only knew. - Get a move on.

What if there's no dough?

We'll come back and nick his bags.

Shut up.

ID 19, maroon, white roof, 457 LJ 45.

Five men inside. Corner McDonald Street.

They'll be with you in two minutes.

Out.

Hands up. It's a holdup.

Against the wall.

The bags.

- What-- - Yeah, yeah.

I'm not--

Don't shoot!

Drop it. Don't be stupid!

Okay.

Take her to the café.

- Well? - In the shoulder. Not serious.

All done.

It's all over.

It was me.

- I'm the one who told-- - I know.

I know because I am not Felix.

I'm not a banker.

I'm a policeman.

A cop.

Don't worry, you're free to go.

Someone ratted on us.

Dromedary.

Must be.

We should've known.

What a bunch of fools we were.

Well, it's a success for you.

I can tell you now. I was worried.

But you were right.

Right...

Just like you, Max.

You want something and when you get it, you're not happy.

Ah, Rosinsky.

He really is excited.

What about?

He's carrying on inquiries...

at Nanterre, where he has a right to.

A right to what?

He wants to get people as accessories.

Especially the German girl.

He won't forgive her.

I'll be right with you.

May I smoke?

You can go in.

How are you doing?

- Why's she there? - Who?

Lily Ackermann.

Like the other café girls, she's an accessory.

She wasn't in it.

I don't agree.

That's for the judge to decide.

The judge?

In a case like this it's not the police who decide,

as you well know.

But you brought her in as you well know.

I thought she ought to be questioned.

She's done nothing.

Inciting a lot of thugs to rob and kill.

That's an external view.

Are we supposed to have internal views?

Don't chop logic with me!

Look here.

I'm responsible for Nanterre investigations. And that's that.

So don't interfere.

I didn't criticize your little plans.

Leave her alone.

What does that mean?

I say leave her alone.

The others too, I suppose?

Without her they'd be free.

She's not responsible.

Oh, no?

Then who was responsible?

Just how far do we go?

All the way to the banker?

You know I was the banker.

Ah, yes. The cozy little apartment.

Not everybody has a private income.

I can do nothing against you.

So she'll pay.

Bastard.

Mind your manners!

There's nothing more to say.

Leave her in peace!

I'm doing my job.

I'll follow it through to the end.

And no one will stop me.

The girl will pay.

After I've taken her statement,

she'll go to prison just like the rest.

You're crazy.

He's killed him.

See to the inspector.

Why did he do it?

I don't know.

I don't know.

I thought I knew Max.

Obviously, I didn't.

Unbelievable.

By killing Rosinsky, he joins the others

right where he wanted to put them, in prison.