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- Sorry. - It's OK.

What do you want to know?

Just a sec, it hasn't recorded.

There.

So, the way you describe the son's accident...

It's troubling to read because we know it's your life.

Do you think one can only write from experience?

Come. Jump!

Jump!

Jump. C'mon!

Jump! Jump!

It leads me to an interesting story,

and I decide to put you in the book I'm writing.

It's not more. You're in my book.

And yet, I don't know you.

What I do know about is my interest in you.

But still, you had to meet me first.

I'm real, in front of you now.

Yes, that you are.

Yeah, so, for you to start inventing,

you need something real first.

You say your books always mix truth and fiction.

That makes us want to figure out which is which.

Is that your goal?

OK, get out.

Snoop, come!

Let's dry you off. You're nice and clean.

No more dirt.

What would you write about?

It's Samuel working upstairs. My husband.

So, what interests you?

What makes you so mad you want to explode?

Forget about your thesis, your studies.

I don't want to be a writer.

That's OK, you don't have to write, just talk, like we're talking now.

You don't want to go on with my questions?

Of course I do. But we could chat too.

Maybe we ask one question each,

so nobody's frustrated, like a normal conversation.

Are you really interested in...

What interests you? Come on, sure.

I never see anybody, I work here all day long,

you come to see me, of course you interest me.

I run.

It's one of my favorite things to do.

Makes me feel high, like I'm on drugs.

What do you know about drugs?

That's the next question.

Big subject.

Maybe don't write everything down.

Surely not.

I told you, we should have done this in Grenoble.

It's fine. I'll write your answers down.

But I have many questions. Maybe you don't have the time.

Don't worry about time, time is not the problem here.

OK. Cool.

I'd like to discuss storytelling...

I don't like sports.

That's the first thing.

Walking yes, maybe. Running, no!

OK, right, I get it.

So,

you're...

It's not really possible anymore, is it?

Yes, it's complicated.

I think we have to stop, Zoé.

I'll be in Grenoble soon, I'll give you a call.

Sorry about that.

- See you soon. - Yes, for sure.

Careful.

Dad...

Mom!

Mom!

Mom, come quick!

Yes...

No, I don't know.

I didn't move him, I didn't touch him at all.

He's not breathing, that's why I'm calling.

No, please come, I can't answer all the questions.

No, he's not moving. Please just come.

Samuel Maleski,

found dead below his chalet...

Turning him now.

Full shot.

Close up.

I'll dictate the initial ideas.

Insert them before the conclusion.

The parallel, superficial abrasions on the hands and forearms

suggest the body slid 1 or 2 meters upon impact

before reaching its final, supine position.

A left temporal hematoma related to the fatal brain trauma

indicates collision with a blunt object in the environment

or a violent blow to the head.

Injury location is inconsistent with discovery position,

thus impact occurred before the body hit the ground.

In conclusion, we cannot yet determine

if the injury resulted from a collision or a blow.

We cannot, at this stage, rule out third party involvement.

Then, the usual.

CAUSE OF DEATH: HEAD TRAUMA.

FORENSIC CAUSE:

ACCIDENTAL AND/OR DELIBERATE.

Toxicological analysis needed to establish the truth.

Anatomy of a fall.

Thank you for coming.

It's really weird, seeing you again like this.

- It is. - OK.

I didn't realize it was so high.

Yeah.

Come.

Have you lived here long?

Less than two years.

Samuel grew up here.

It's his...

Well...

How are we gonna do this? Will you ask me some questions...

I'm really sorry my French isn't any better than when we met.

- No. English is fine. - OK.

How many times have you been questioned?

It's been once here, by the policemen,

and once by the investigative judge.

Can you tell me what you told them about the day he died?

Yes, of course.

I told them everything, from when I was with the student

until the ambulance got here.

I was in the middle of a meeting with this girl,

and Samuel started

blasting a song on repeat to piss me off and make her leave.

Did you tell them he played the song to piss you off?

No.

I just said he played the song super loud and we had to stop.

She was recording the interview and it wasn't possible anymore.

I need you to be precise.

Tell me everything exactly the way you told them.

Yes.

So. I told them that I put an end to the interview.

And that she left.

And I went upstairs to my bedroom

and that's when I saw Daniel go out for a walk.

He wasn't at school?

No, he only goes two days a week in Grenoble.

How old is he now?

He's eleven.

And then...

So, after the girl left...

Samuel came down to see me in my bedroom.

We spoke a bit about what we were going to do that day.

It was nothing special, really.

He...

He went back upstairs to work in the attic and I worked in bed.

You wrote? On your computer?

Yes, I finished a translation.

I translate for some German weeklies, for extra money.

And then...

Yes. I heard him working upstairs and playing his music

for about, I think it must've been

ten minutes.

Then I put some earplugs in because I wanted to take a nap.

And..

I fell asleep.

And an hour later, I think,

I heard Daniel scream, and then...

An earplug must've fallen out, because it woke me up.

The music was still on, I ran downstairs, and...

Yes. That's it.

I called the SAMU and they arrived 30 minutes later.

- Can I take a look around? - Of course.

- Yes? - Yes.

Where do you want to start? Should I explain... something.

Yeah, maybe.

Yeah. This is where...

This is where we eat.

- Yes, sorry... - No...

So...

He was working over there?

Yeah, he was insulating the attic.

And when you were having a nap, he was right above you?

- Yes. - OK.

So...

He was supposed to get to that next.

We wanted to make rooms for B&B.

So, he was working there?

These days, yes.

And the window,

when the ambulance arrived, was it open?

Yes, it was.

He used to keep it open?

I'm not sure of that really, because

sometimes he would air the room

to get rid of the wood dust.

Was he reckless? Did he ever take risks while working?

No, he was cautious and meticulous, he worked slowly.

Is there any reason why he would've

leaned out the window, for instance, to call out to you

or Daniel?

No, when he was working, especially when he was playing his music, he kinda...

he shut himself off from the world.

So, he never called for me or Daniel up here.

Anyway, with the height of the...

Windowsill?

- Windowsill. - Yeah.

Had he been drinking?

No, never during the day.

Especially when he was working.

Sweetie...

Come wash up and get dressed. It's daytime, you need to get up.

Honey, I know this is hard. It's hard for me too.

And it's going to be hard for a while.

But we have to try and do the things that we did before...

Monica came to see you, she made you Tiramisu.

You can't spend all day without going outside.

It's beautiful out. And Snoop needs to go out too.

Daniel, will you come eat with us?

I want to sleep.

OK, first eat with us, then you can sleep.

I don't understand.

No one understands.

We can't understand.

I have to understand.

Remember the psychic I told you about,

the one I saw when Alain died?

Monica.

I'd like to.

I'd rather you don't...

He helped me a lot.

But he's a child.

Don't confuse things.

I'll discuss it with Monica.

She's helped children before.

Want some?

What do you need?

Nothing, I'm OK.

OK.

Your doubts aside, it might help him.

She senses things we can't.

Vincent, an old lawyer friend,

Monica, Daniel's Godmother.

- Hello. - Hello.

- I'll call you. - Tell me if he eats.

Yes.

Plates?

I'm so tired of crying.

It's really ridiculous, I'm so exhausted.

- Want Parmesan? - Yes, it's perfect.

- I don't know where the pepper is. - Don't worry. I'll take care of it.

So, as you know, the autopsy report is inconclusive

about the cause of death.

The forensic pathologist didn't have enough concrete elements.

But...

What we can defend,

is a fall from the attic window, with him...

bouncing off the shed roof.

His head may have hit the edge somewhere around here.

You see?

Then he would have landed on the ground,

approximately here.

It seems that he found the strength to crawl one meter or two

before collapsing in this final position.

That explains the blood on the snow.

But there are several problems.

First, they found nothing on the roof, no DNA.

And there's these 3 blood spatters here on the wall.

It seems it doesn't really match with the head impact on the roof.

The judge has asked an expert to clarify this.

When you see this what do you think?

I don't know, I'm not a spatter analyst.

But I know a very good one.

I'm going to get her opinion.

There's one last problem for us,

that bruise on your arm.

It might look like the result of a fight or struggle.

When did they see it?

They examined me that night, my sleeve was rolled up.

You explained it to them right away?

I knew how it happened. Shall I show you?

Yes, please.

Here in the kitchen, I bang my arm on this all the time.

Like, when I move.

It's ridiculous, it happened several times that week.

I told them my skin marks easily

and they can ask Daniel. He hears me bumping into it.

OK. Good.

So. As you can see, an accidental fall will be hard to defend,

given the height of the windowsill.

So that's why there's an investigation for...

more suspects.

And you're...

more "Suspicious death".

You're an assisted witness because you were the only person there.

OK.

And of course, you're his wife.

Now, looking for a stranger who walks in,

kills him while you were sleeping and Daniel was out for a walk

is a shitty strategy.

Samuel had no enemies.

Stop!

I did not kill him.

That's not the point.

Really.

We have to go through Samuel's personality.

What was he was going through?

Is there anything that would seem consistent with

suicide?

I thought about it, obviously.

I just can't imagine him jumping with Daniel so close by.

I just can't get it in my head.

Yeah, but it's probably our best defense.

I mean, if they indict you,

it's our only defense.

But I think he fell.

Nobody's going to believe that.

I don't believe that.

I need a smoke.

Vincent.

There's something I want to tell you.

About six months ago,

I wonder if...

Samuel didn't swallow some pills.

I found him passed out drunk on the floor.

He'd vomited. It was very early in the morning.

There were some white spots

in the vomit,

and I remember wondering if they were pills.

- Really? - Yes.

Did you two talk about it?

No, he didn't want to talk about it.

Did Daniel see this?

No.

And you didn't call a doctor?

No, I didn't realize it back then, but looking back at it now,

it seems like it might have been a suicide attempt.

Does anyone know about this?

No.

OK. I'll call you back.

Yes.

- OK. - Bye.

Is the light too bright?

Want me to lower the blinds?

I'm OK.

Yeah?

OK.

You didn't tell me about your parents' arguments.

What do you mean? I don't really remember any.

When they start yelling, I prefer to leave.

Can you tell me who was angrier?

No.

Is that why you left the day your dad died?

No, I just felt like a walk.

OK. You say you heard your parents when you left?

Do you remember the conversation?

More or less. It wasn't a fight.

I couldn't hear the words, but it wasn't...

Then you don't know it was a fight.

I could tell... I could hear it wasn't a fight.

Daniel, the music was loud, you were outside.

They were in her bedroom, two floors up.

How can you be sure?

I wonder if you could hear them at all.

I was just below the open window.

I know what I heard.

OK.

Is it over?

How can you be so sure where you were?

Because I touched the..

Gaffer tape on the woodshed.

Gaffer tape?

When we moved in,

Dad put tape with different textures everywhere,

- so I could feel my way. - Yes.

I don't really need them now, but I still touch them.

Each piece feels different,

I wouldn't get it wrong.

I touched the woodshed tape.

So I was under the window.

OK.

I transposed what you told me.

But I didn't say it in French.

The volume is what matters here,

and French is easier for everyone.

Helene, start the music.

Did it go well?

Yes, nothing special.

What's next this afternoon?

I don't know, I'm tired. I need to work, then I'll rest.

Not asking me?

I assume you'll keep working in the attic?

Stop the music.

Stop.

So?

Did you hear anything?

Let's go again, louder this time.

Louder? But I didn't shout at all.

The point of the reenactment is to determine a credible volume.

Vincent, I never shouted.

She spoke no louder. Her son says the voices were calm.

That doesn't hold up. The music drowns them out.

My client didn't shout.

She won't shout now.

Miss,

please replace Mrs Voyter.

Come on in, please.

Play the music.

Start the music!

Did it go well?

Yes, nothing special.

What's next this afternoon?

I don't know, I'm tired. I need to work, then I'll rest.

Go again, much louder.

Was it good?

Yes, nothing special.

What's next this afternoon?

I don't know, I'm tired. I need to work, then I'll rest.

Not asking me?

I assume you'll keep working in the attic?

Stop the music.

Now they hear it.

Good.

You do realize that was ridiculous?

Spare me your comments.

It was calm voices, not like that.

But see, you wouldn't have heard them.

Right?

Can we try one last time, starting inside?

With calm voices again.

We can.

I made a mistake.

Cut the music.

This is the tape I touched. I was inside.

I got mixed up.

That's not what you told us.

Zoé Solidor saw you leave the house after she left.

And your mom says she spoke to your dad after that.

I got mixed up.

You got mixed up.

Well.

This afternoon was hard, wasn't it?

I'm mad at myself.

I thought I was sure, and then...

But you didn't lie, did you?

I don't want you to change your memories.

You have to tell them exactly like you remember it.

That can never hurt me.

Give me your hand.

Yes.

What do we do now?

You want a drink?

Whiskey?

Come.

Sorry.

All I can say is,

the interrogation is in progress and may continue for a while.

She's been in there for 8 hours.

Is she in trouble?

Sandra Voyter is not in trouble.

She maintains her innocence,

so there will be no confession.

You're confident, but we've heard about a recording.

Is it incriminating?

You're not listening.

She has not been indicted, so nothing is incriminating.

The so-called video is a myth so far.

We've had no access to it.

So, you confirm it's a video?

No, I confirm nothing. I said precisely the opposite.

If there's nothing new, why the summons?

I don't know what to tell you.

We don't understand it ourselves. Thank you.

Thank you for coming

for the public prosecutor's statement.

So, Sandra Voyter was indicted this morning at 8:30 a.m.

The investigation revealed elements that justify this decision.

Three elements in particular.

Analysis of Mr. Maleski's blood spatter

found at the couple's domicile

indicate he may have received a blunt force blow to the head

when he was on the third-floor balcony.

In addition,

the reenactment done three days ago

brought to light a number of discrepancies.

Lastly,

a file was discovered on a USB key belonging to Mr. Maleski.

All I can say about it, for now,

is that it's an audio recording of the couple,

made the day before his death.

As I'm trying to tell you, she can't come sign herself

because she's held up at the courthouse.

So it'll be me, her lawyer Vincent Renzi,

coming to get the documents for her.

No, I can't come at 11.

I can be there in 20 minutes?

OK. Thanks, be right there.

We have good news.

The judge this afternoon is not Da Silva, it's Bollène.

OK.

I'm off to the bank.

And the home equity loan?

Less than we hoped. They have money problems.

Outstanding credit, etc.

The bank will only do 50,000.

Bail will be more than that.

Her son is a witness.

He'll be testifying in court.

There is obviously a risk of her exerting pressure on him.

As a consequence,

release on bail is not an option.

I'm asking you to place Mrs Voyter in detention pending trial.

Thank you. Over to you, Mrs Boudaoud.

Judge, how can we consider her a flight risk,

when she's responsible for her son?

That makes no sense.

With a visually impaired child?

And she's all over the media.

Separating them could compound his trauma.

He had an accident at the age of four

that damaged his sight.

He's been traumatized,

both psychologically and emotionally.

Mrs Boudaoud, your reaction?

The judge's decision is rare enough to merit praise.

A judge refusing to give in to repressive reflexes

is a healthy sign, especially in such a case.

We feel the release under judicial supervision

underscores the weakness of the case.

Is your client relieved?

This is a rare decision in a homicide accusation,

and reads like a repudiation of Judge Janvier.

Reactions in the hallways have been intense.

I quote, "This decision is dangerous."

"The suspect will be reunited with a major witness."

"It's a real concern for the upcoming trial."

How could you not tell me about it?

I had no idea he recorded it.

Even if he hadn't...

You had a fight the day before he died.

That recording

is not reality.

It's a part of it, maybe,

if you have an extreme moment, an emotional peak you focus on,

of course it crushes everything.

It may seem like irrefutable proof, but actually warps everything.

It's not reality. It's our voices, but it's not who we are.

I don't give a fuck about what is reality. OK.

You need to start seeing yourself

the way others are going to perceive you.

The trial is not about the truth.

- I didn't know there'd be a trial. - Well, there is.

Now, what really counts is...

who you have around you.

There's nobody around me.

Yes, there's Daniel.

Daniel is important.

And didn't you and Samuel have...

any friends?

We should never have come here. I was so happy in London.

It was him, he insisted.

He said there'd be no more distractions from work.

It would solve our financial problems.

I left my shithole in Germany and ended up stuck in his shithole.

It's fucking absurd, isn't it? Come on!

- Hello. - Hello.

Hi, kitten.

This is Mrs Berger,

appointed by the Justice Minister.

Hello.

Vincent Renzi, I work with Nour.

She'll be here regularly, with...

Daniel, and with you.

The frequency will be specified.

She's here...

to ensure that everything goes well.

And that no one tries to influence Daniel,

or make him say things he doesn't want to say at the trial.

The judge says you must speak French in her presence.

Right.

That's it.

May I speak with Daniel in private?

OK, shall we go?

I'll call you.

Your mother will give us space to get acquainted.

My name is Marge.

We'll see each other a lot.

Do you know why I'm here?

Are you OK with it?

You can consider me a friend.

Or not. That's your choice.

What do you think?

It's OK, I don't...

I don't need us to be friends.

Well, I'm here to protect your testimony.

The law sent me, and...

the law can't be someone's friend.

Otherwise it couldn't be someone else's friend,

and the law must be the same for everyone.

So you're right, I can't be your friend.

You just have to tell me if anything feels strange,

if there's a problem,

I don't know,

for example with your mom,

regarding the trial.

I usually discuss stuff like that with my friends.

Right.

Maybe this time you don't really have a choice.

With chocolate chips...

and raspberries...

I know it doesn't exist but that's what I vow.

The archduchess's socks...

What?

The archduchess's socks...

He was one of the only persons I knew,

when he walked into a room,

something shifted,

the atmosphere changed.

And I suppose that's charm, isn't it?

I fell in love with his charm.

I spend my whole life not understanding family and friends.

And then he came along, and I felt like...

I understood what he was saying, the signals he was sending me.

We didn't necessarily agree,

but we had...

We had things to tell each other.

I realized that later, when it was gone.

Don't say it's gone.

Just focus on him.

How you met.

When we met, he'd just gotten a job at a university in London.

So... we moved there together.

He was a great teacher.

He had a way of making everything sound alive and accessible,

it was great.

But some... But that wasn't really enough,

so...

Deep down, what he really wanted to do was to write.

He was working on a novel for years.

I watched him struggle, it was hard.

And I came to realize

his relationship with time, with work, was...

complicated, unlike for me...

No, stop comparing yourself to him.

Just to...

Go back to your relationship.

Our relationship revolved around intellectual stimulation,

even if it meant neglecting everything else.

Everything else?

Meaning Daniel?

We should mention Daniel early on.

The accident.

OK. I didn't know it was so...

- It's OK? - It's OK.

It's just that I didn't know that it was so...

like this, OK.

Everything changed after the accident.

Daniel was four.

That day, Samuel was supposed to pick him up from school.

But he was on a roll with his writing, so...

he called a babysitter last minute, and she showed up late.

As they were crossing the street,

a motorcycle hit Daniel.

His optic nerve was permanently damaged.

After that,

Samuel became obsessive about it,

he blamed himself on a loop.

If only he'd gone, picked him up in time...

He was overcome with guilt.

Perhaps he never truly escaped that feeling.

We spent that whole year at the hospital,

with Daniel.

We began having financial problems

and Samuel started taking antidepressants.

Can we please keep that clean, Vincent?

I'd really like to protect him and his image, and spare Daniel.

We'll try.

OK.

But it will be like that, I have to...

I have to admit things.

You have to prepare yourself

to tell everything, and the challenge is to do it in French.

OK.

One year later.

Are you really interested in...

What interests you? Come on, sure.

I never see anybody, I work here all day long,

you come to see me, of course you interest me.

I run.

It's one of my favorite things to do.

Makes me feel high, like I'm on drugs.

What do you know about drugs? That's the next question.

Big subject.

Maybe don't write everything down.

No surely not.

I told you, we should have done this in Grenoble.

It's fine.

I'll write your answers down.

Do you confirm this is your interview with Mrs Voyter?

Yes.

She refuses to talk about herself, yet that's why you came.

I came to talk about her work.

Right, but by constantly changing the subject,

what was she looking for, do you suppose?

We can hear it. She asks about me.

She seemed to enjoy talking about me more than herself.

Was she inciting you to talk about yourself?

Inciting...

No, I wouldn't say that.

She wasn't manipulative, just relaxed.

It felt natural. She seemed to enjoy the conversation.

You say "relaxed". We hear her serve you wine at 1:45.

Had she been drinking before you arrived?

I think so.

Would you say she did her utmost

to make you comfortable,

more than you might've expected when interviewing a writer?

I wouldn't say that, no.

It seemed like Sandra... Mrs Voyter,

needed to escape, to relax.

- Escape? - Right.

Did you know that Sandra, as you call her, was bisexual?

No.

Did you sense it?

No.

Hearing the conversation now, with hindsight,

would you call it seduction?

I felt, and she told me herself, that she didn't have

much of a social life or many chances to talk

to new people.

I suppose you could call that a form of seduction.

The court needs to know if you would call it that.

Seduction means several things.

But the word seduction always implies some...

seduction.

The witness's answer

is clear enough, as to what she means by seduction.

Mrs Voyter kept expressing her interest in you.

She wanted to do the interview in Grenoble.

Didn't you sense...

She answered that question.

Not very clearly. Please answer, Miss Solidor.

Could you call me Mrs?

I dislike being reduced to a marital status.

Of course. That wasn't my intention.

I didn't feel seduced in the moment.

So you did wonder afterwards?

I found it atypical, nothing more.

How did you interpret the song Samuel Maleski played?

I felt tension around the noise.

Samuel Maleski imposing his presence without showing himself.

And Sandra's reaction...

What was her reaction?

She was a bit annoyed.

And when the song started over?

He was playing it on a loop.

Clearly...

good deduction.

But how did it feel to you in the moment?

It added to the strangeness.

I felt my presence was less...

It was less relaxed.

So you clearly felt tension.

- You're nitpicking. - No, just clarifying.

Did you feel tension?

Yes.

Did you feel that Mr. Maleski, by playing that music,

wanted to disrupt, or interrupt, your interview?

That was my first thought, yes.

But it's hard to read the intentions of someone you can't see.

That's what they pay me for!

Sandra Voyter,

you sought a connection to divert the interview.

Correct?

That's a leading question.

There was no seduction.

My question concerns your connection.

In the recording you're chummy, laughing, drinking wine.

Were you seeking escape from a difficult home-life

by connecting with this young woman?

Mrs Voyter did not initiate the meeting.

Please answer, Mrs Voyter.

Yes, I found her surprising.

I hadn't seen anyone new in a while.

And yes, I needed a drink.

This person was intelligent and nice, nothing more.

That interview was hardly enough to base a thesis on!

She can have a laugh with a student whose questions don't thrill her.

Would you say the music Mr. Maleski played

so aggressively

indicated he was jealous of you,

or Miss... Mrs Solidor? Sorry.

The music was a cover of 50 Cent's P.I.M.P.,

a deeply misogynistic song.

It was an instrumental version.

Answer, please.

Could your husband's song choice express his jealousy?

I can answer.

He often played that song. I doubt it was intentional.

He loved loud music, it relaxed him.

He had purposefully installed...

What is a "speaker"? Sorry.

A powerful speaker... sorry.

He worked a lot, it was noisy...

Mrs Solidor says you ended the interview over that.

- Is that true? - She never said that.

If the defense

keeps reacting to every question,

I'll be very irritated.

Mrs Voyter, answer the question.

The music was just very loud.

And when it started over,

I realized it wasn't going to stop.

That made discussion difficult.

So I...

I preferred to stop.

And I was tired, yes.

And I felt a bit...

woozy, from the wine.

Yet once alone, you didn't ask him to explain his behavior?

As I said, it was habitual.

No.

You entertaining an attractive young woman

while he toiled upstairs was neither habitual, nor neutral.

He knew you liked women. You'd recently cheated.

That's beside the point.

And sexist.

I'd have said the same if she were an attractive man.

Excuse me, but this couple's conflicts matter here.

There's something a bit strange in this situation.

You say you went upstairs to your room to work and sleep.

Right below the attic with the deafening music.

Music that had made the interview impossible.

In that big house, you chose that spot?

Yes, that's where I work. I always work in bed.

When Samuel came to talk to you, you didn't complain?

Deafening music overhead is hardly normal.

I'm used to it, I don't mind.

I wanted to work, I had my earplugs.

It was normal.

I can work in any situation.

You said you were tired, woozy from the wine.

Yet you wanted to work?

Yes.

And I did. Not for long.

A translation was due.

I wanted to finish it before resting.

As I said, I can work in any environment, any condition.

Apparently you can also rest anywhere, anytime.

So all was well with the world.

That's all.

No further questions.

Daniel, that's not what you told us.

Zoe Solidor saw you leave the house after she left.

And your mom says she spoke to your dad after that.

I got mixed up.

You got mixed up.

Indeed there is a problem, Daniel.

Right?

You couldn't be two places at once.

I think I went back inside.

What bothers me is how sure you were before the reenactment.

You said in your statement:

"Each piece of tape feels different."

"I wouldn't get it wrong."

And: "I was just below the open window."

"I know what I heard."

Then, during the reenactment, you said something else entirely.

How come?

I thought I remembered where I was, but...

Maybe the shock of what happened next got me mixed up.

A psychiatrist who met with Daniel

says emotional shock may have altered some memories.

Of course.

Do you remember now why you came back inside?

I think I must've forgotten...

my gloves or my phone.

But you're not sure?

I don't remember exactly.

So, you went from absolute certainty to uncertainty

about your memories of that day.

This is very problematic.

You're fixating on one detail in his memory

to cast doubt on his whole memory.

What do you want us to believe?

That shock may have turned yelling into calm voices?

You insinuate he lied to protect his mother.

No.

I'm merely signaling the witness's doubts.

But we are entitled to wonder.

Daniel Maleski says he would leave when his parents fought.

Whereas on that day, he happens to go out

right when an argument is likely to erupt.

Thus, he doesn't hear a thing.

I didn't happen to go out. I fled the music.

And he's very precise about what he heard.

He's never budged on that.

The psychiatrist and visual impairment expert

both observed Daniel's excellent aural memory.

Clerk, please display

the elements provided by Mr. Balard.

We're listening.

The decisive element here is the three blood spatters

on the woodshed,

as indicated on the sketch.

Can we zoom in on the woodshed?

Their shape is typical of spatter projected from high above.

They are long and narrow.

The longest measures 4 centimeters, which is a lot.

So, according to our tests,

these spatters could only have landed here

if Mr. Maleski was struck on the head

while on the 3rd floor balcony.

He would have to have been leaning over the balcony,

his head already quite far out when the blow was struck,

for the spatter to land there.

No other explanation stands.

Did the violence of the blow make Mr. Maleski fall?

Most likely,

it was the combination of a violent blow

and a deliberate push.

Would you say the aggressor was in a state of extreme anger,

to provoke a fall after administering such a violent blow?

A state of rage, I'd say.

Hard to imagine anything less.

Such states can increase physical strength.

The guardrail is 1.2 meters high.

Comes up to about here.

Mr. Maleski was 1.82 meters tall

and weighed 85 kilos.

So, pushing him over that guardrail

would have required a very deliberate push, right?

The entire act was very deliberate.

Such a blow is always intentional.

What I mean by very deliberate is...

very coordinated. Methodical.

Based on his weight, we can assume

it was necessary to lift his legs to make him fall,

which hardly suggests rage.

Rage does not exclude will.

And Mr. Maleski was probably already off-balance.

He may have fallen

as much from the blow as from his own unstable position.

As I said, we have no material elements...

Except those 3 drops of blood.

Everything else must be speculated to explain those drops, right?

OK, but the only explanation is the one I gave.

You gave us a theory, not an explanation.

Actually, two theories.

With and without a deliberate push.

According to your theories,

what type of object was used?

A heavy object, probably in metal

or dense wood,

and undoubtedly with a sharp edge.

Did you examine any such objects found on the premises?

You know no weapon was found.

They're easily disposed of.

No further questions.

Two possible explanations for these 3 spatters.

Either they came from here, after a violent blow.

Or they resulted when the skull

hit this roof ledge,

approximately here.

The first hypothesis is unlikely.

It's inconsistent with the shape and movement of the spatters.

Focusing on the second hypothesis,

we must take into account the bounce caused by the impact

on the roof ledge.

I'll show you a video of our in-situ tests.

There.

As you can see in our reenactment with a dummy,

such an impact causes the body to turn abruptly.

And during that rollover, or spin,

a fraction of a second after impact,

these 3 spatters are projected

onto this surface.

The only valid explanation

is that Mr. Maleski fell from the attic window.

I believe it's the only way

he could've bounced off the roof,

and sustained such an injury.

You use the cautious qualifier "I believe".

So it's your opinion.

How do you explain the lack of DNA or trace tissue

at the point of impact, or "bounce" as you call it?

I'll show you.

This is a test we carried out

under comparable conditions.

At the time of the incident, there was a layer of ice

underneath a thick layer of snow.

We see the snow melting in acceleration.

And we can see,

during 1 hour and 50 minutes, that the runoff

takes with it all residue embedded at the point of impact.

It ends up with the blood that was already

down here.

You call the violent blow hypothesis "improbable".

Would you call it impossible?

No, but highly improbable.

Meaning it is possible.

As it's possible I'll be president someday.

I know the definition.

It's improbable for a reason.

In your hypothesis, in order to explain the angle

of these 3 spatters,

we have to imagine that Mr. Maleski's head

was leaning way out, around 80 cm past the guardrail.

This implies the aggressor forced him

to lean backwards over the void,

shoving him against the guardrail,

his entire torso pitched backwards.

The aggressor would have to be leaning very far out

while holding a heavy object

and striking the victim with powerful momentum.

All these elements,

in addition to the defendant's body mass,

make this hypothesis highly improbable.

But not impossible.

Listen Daniel, I asked to see you because...

I know you have a vested interest in this case.

I've allowed you to attend the trial so far.

But tomorrow will be

far more complicated.

We'll be covering some disturbing details,

so I've decided you won't be attending.

I think I can hear anything.

What?

I think I can hear anything.

- Yeah? - I'm prepared.

You can hear it, but can you handle it?

We have a job to do.

We need to be able to work... with serenity.

I've never disrupted the trial.

Disrupted...

That's not the point.

We need to be able to evoke the facts bluntly.

We have to address everything,

without fear of hurting you.

I've already been hurt.

And that's why I need...

to hear, so I can get past it.

The trial is not about you hearing.

It's about establishing the truth,

without being forced to censor ourselves.

When has anyone censored themselves?

Even if you forbid me to come,

I'll find out. I'll know what happened

from TV, radio, internet.

I'll be obsessed.

Mrs Voyter, you claim

your husband attempted suicide 6 months before he died.

You remembered late, which is quite surprising.

Can you describe the episode in detail?

Yes.

It happened a few weeks after he stopped his medication.

I found him lying on the floor...

early in the morning, in his room.

He'd...

had a lot to drink..

The night before, and passed out.

He'd vomited, and in the vomit, I saw aspirin.

The pills had nearly dissolved.

At first I didn't understand what it was.

But later, I found...

empty blister packs in the kitchen garbage.

I cleaned it all up and put him in bed.

Later,

when he felt better,

he didn't want to discuss it.

He just said he'd stopped his meds too soon.

You had separate bedrooms?

It was his office, and he usually slept there, yes.

I see. What made you go into his room so early?

I wake up very early. He did too, sometimes.

We occasionally spent that time together, talking.

At 6 in the morning?

Yes, if I saw the light on. Yes.

We'd stopped sharing a bed, but we were very close.

I would often...

finish the night with him, in the office bed.

I'd gone down to make coffee.

I saw his door was ajar, and...

I saw him lying on the floor.

No one else witnessed that?

No.

Thank you, you may sit down.

Did you know that?

Which antidepressant did you prescribe?

Escitalopram, 20 mg per day.

- Was it his choice to stop? - Yes.

About 7 months before he died he wanted to wean off.

I recommended a tapering plan with weekly check-ins.

Any suicidal ideation?

No, Samuel wasn't depressive.

I'd prescribed Escitalopram as an emotional shield

to help him cope after his son's accident.

Can sudden withdrawal from a low dose trigger a suicide attempt?

Anything's possible in theory,

but why would he have asked me to help him wean off,

then stop behind my back? Makes no sense.

And no mention of it in our weekly sessions?

Have you ever had a patient commit suicide,

or attempt suicide?

In French, "committing suicide"

means both trying and succeeding.

It's the action.

Thanks for the language lesson.

No patient has committed suicide.

Aside from Mr. Maleski,

since we're here to rule on the question.

In any case,

we can't consider you an expert on suicide,

failed or successful.

You said your husband refused to discuss it with you,

or anyone else, apparently.

Why, do you think?

Because he was ashamed.

He had a lot of...

It's too complicated. Can I change the language, please?

Thanks.

Yeah, I think because he was ashamed.

Samuel had a lot of issues with shame.

It's complicated.

He was frustrated with teaching. It had become a burden,

and he wanted to write.

He'd been working on a novel for years,

before and after Daniel's accident.

I read everything he wrote.

I thought it was really good and I told him so.

But from one day to another, he just...

couldn't do it anymore, he just stopped.

It made him feel like a coward.

He would belittle himself.

He ended up convincing himself he could not write

because of his dependency on the medication.

He wanted to free himself of that,

and he could not, of course not...

I'm sorry, I'm not finished.

He could not talk about the suicide attempt

because his feelings of failure were just too painful.

He never spoke of that.

Not once.

He blamed you for getting him hooked on the pills from the first session.

It drove him mad.

He and I decided together.

You can't deny you're at the center of this equation.

Samuel came to see me because he felt guilty,

but mostly because you blamed him.

He described your behavior

as quite castrating.

You made him pay

for the accident

by forcing him to give up what mattered most to him:

Writing.

You put him on an emotional roller coaster.

On the one hand, it's true,

you encouraged him to write, wanted him to succeed.

But if he had, it would've been unbearable for you.

That's the problem. It may have been subconscious.

All the material and psychological burdens

resulting from the accident were his to bear.

It's as though you said, "This is your problem."

"You're responsible. Deal with it."

"I want to free myself from that, to write."

Material burdens

were managed by Mrs Voyter as much as her husband.

We have their bank statements, receipts, etc.

I'm also talking about the emotional load.

Responsibilities, sense of purpose,

anxiety.

In those areas, Samuel felt an unbearable imbalance.

So what your patients tell you is the truth?

As a psychoanalyst,

you never wondered whether Samuel Maleski

might've needed to imagine an unbearable imbalance

to prevent himself from writing?

After a while, I can tell what's real and what isn't.

Lucky you.

I'm sorry to interrupt.

But...

I don't know. You come here,

OK, with maybe your opinion, and you tell me

who Samuel was and what we were going through.

But what you say is just

a little part of the whole situation.

You know.

I mean, sometimes,

sometimes a couple...

is kind of a chaos

and everybody is lost.

Sometimes we fight together and sometimes we fight alone,

and sometimes we fight against each other, that happens.

And I think it's possible that Samuel

needed to see things the way you describe them, but...

If I'd been seeing a therapist,

he could stand here too and say very ugly things about Samuel.

But would those things be true?

Did you resent your husband after your son's accident?

We were both dealing with

very different emotions at that time.

Yes or no?

Yes, for a few days.

Daniel was on his watch.

Your son practically lost his sight,

and you only resented him for a few days?

Yes, about his responsibility for the accident. Yes.

Of course.

I mean, maybe. The doctor earlier said something about a tragic situation.

I immediately refused to see it that way.

I never saw Daniel as handicapped.

You know, I wanted to protect him from that perception.

Because, as soon as you mark a child that way, you condemn him to now

to not see his life as his own,

whereas he should feel that it's his best life

because it's the only life he's got,

it is his own.

He reads books,

he goes on social media like any other kid

he plays the piano,

he dreams, he cries, he laughs.

He's a very lively kid.

He's OK.

Yeah.

So perhaps, I...

I resented Samuel for projecting his own pain onto Daniel, yes.

Thank you.

I want to drink all night.

Yeah, same.

I will drink.

To forget.

Come on. You're the only lawyer...

OK, once again.

No, you're really the only lawyer I know.

Is it a great reason for putting your life in someone's hands?

- Is it? - No, but you're good too.

Right? You're good.

- I don't know. - Oh, come on.

You look like a dog.

Excuse me?

No, a beautiful dog.

How do you say it?

A basset?

Funny you say that. I can't trust someone

if I can't put an animal's head on them.

Really? So what am I?

I'm not sure yet.

After all this time,

you still don't know?

OK.

Do you remember me from before, when we first met?

Yes I do, of course.

I don't. What was I like?

You were a little bit lost,

as I can remember.

Lonely.

And..

Ambitious.

And I was hopelessly in love.

I can't remember a thing.

OK.

But I'm innocent. You know that, right?

Yes.

I mean really.

I don't know what you're thinking.

I think a lot of things I don't tell you.

Otherwise you'd fire me right now.

No, Vincent.

In your head, you're thinking...

Sometimes when you look at me, just like right now,

I can feel that you're judging me.

I don't know what you think.

Sandra, I believe you.

I'm not judging you.

My love,

I just want you to know...

I'm not...

I'm not that monster, you know?

Everything you hear in the trial,

it's just...

It's twisted. You know.

And...

It wasn't like that.

Your father...

Your father was my soulmate.

We chose each other, and I loved him.

But how do you prove that?

I just wish you would be shielded from all this, that you could do...

that you could do children's stuff,

that you could be a child just a little longer. You know.

All rise!

You may be seated.

We'll begin by calling the Chief Investigator to the bar.

He insists, it's important.

You may be seated.

The Chief Investigator has surely arrived,

so we'll start with him.

Clerk, please cue Exhibit 31.

Bailiff, prepare to hand out

the transcription of the recording to the jurors.

Clerk?

What can I do? It's part of the job.

Organize yourself differently.

I'm not going to cancel.

How can I organize on my own?

You know we have to plan things together.

I won't leave Daniel alone because you're gone.

Leave him with Monica, what's the big deal?

Three days a week?

We'd have to pay her for that.

We can't afford it.

I need time.

Not just a few hours.

I'm talking about blocking out time for myself for the whole year.

This isn't working for me anymore.

Organize your time differently, it's up to you.

When's the last time you helped him do his homework?

So many things you don't care about. That's the time I mean.

Darling, the book just came out. You know it's just this time.

It's always "just this time".

Whether you have a book out, or you're writing,

or you need space to figure out what to write.

I've been following your lead for years!

I can't do anything with my time.

Do you understand?

It's not my time, it's yours!

Do I force you to teach?

Do I force you to homeschool Daniel?

No one's forcing you.

If you want more time, I've never stopped you.

Are you fucking serious?

I cut my course load in half to gain more time

and it's still not enough.

I have to finish the renovation, and I'm dealing with everything else!

Why do you refuse to talk about it?

Why can't you just admit it has to do with how things are divided between us?

Because you're wrong.

I don't owe you any time. I do my part.

Come on, let's not take inventory here, please.

Let's relax.

I love you.

When you decided to homeschool Daniel,

I told you be careful.

It's a beautiful, generous choice. I thank you for it,

but you don't have to. I told you it would force you...

What? To spend more time with my son?

I'm glad I did.

I wouldn't have the relationship I have with him today if I didn't.

The relationship I don't have with him, you mean?

I didn't say that, no.

I'm saying maybe,

just maybe, things are a little out of balance between us.

I want you to look at that. Why is this so hard to discuss?

I don't believe in the notion of reciprocity in a couple.

It's naïve and frankly, depressing.

Yes. And I think discussing it is a waste of time,

considering the state you're in. Seriously.

All this blah-blah-blah, and more time is gone.

All this time spent chitchatting

could be spent in silence doing whatever you want to do,

if only you knew.

I want time to start writing, same as you.

Do it.

Writers don't stop writing because they have a son and chores.

Stop whining about your scheduling bullshit

and stop blaming me for what you did or didn't do.

I live with you. I plan my life around you.

If I imposed on you what you're imposing on me,

neither of us would be able to write.

Don't worry about me, I always manage to write.

Great.

Perfect.

If you're so sure of yourself, adapt.

I do adapt. I take Daniel to school.

- Once a week. - We have Monica on Tuesdays, come on.

Sandra, don't be dishonest.

- I'm not. You're the one nitpicking. - I've given you too much.

Too much time, too many concessions.

I want this time back.

And you owe it to me. Be fair!

I'm sorry, but no. Are you insane?

I don't owe you anything.

Really.

This is about your relationship with your son.

And to protect yourself and your comfort,

because you got scared and put yourself in that position.

It was your choice to come here and start this renovation.

This is your own trap!

I don't take your time, you waste it all on your own!

I want things to change now.

I want time to start writing again.

Great, go for it.

If you want my advice, go back to the one you ditched.

That's your advice? Go back to the book you plundered?

So now it's plundering.

We've discussed it. You'd given up.

You took the book's best idea. How am I supposed to go back to it?

Do you realize how cynical that is of you?

Publish your own version, say it inspired me,

I'll admit to it.

If something needs to be written, someone has to write it. You know.

You have animal vision. You pretend to be obliging, but...

Look at you. Even your bullshit moralizing...

And this, really, is a way for you to waste more time.

You should be flattered that I was inspired by you.

This is life, things circulate.

Yes.

And frankly, I wish you'd be inspired to plunder me.

You're not alone in your jungle, but you impose everything.

You impose your rhythm, your use of time,

even your language.

Even with language, I meet you on your turf.

We speak English at home.

I'm not on my turf, I don't speak my mother tongue.

Nor mine, though we live here.

Yes, it's a middle ground, in fact.

Because I'm not French, you're not German.

We create a middle ground, so nobody has to go to the other's turf.

This is what English is for. Don't blame me for that.

But we live in France. That's our reality.

Daniel hears you speak a language that has nothing to do wife, his life,

just because you impose it on him, like everything else.

We're on your turf, all the time.

Your country!

Every single day I have to accept that we live in your hometown!

The people you grew up with look down on me

whenever I don't make the effort to smile at them.

You don't think me living here counts as meeting you on your turf?

You never smile at anyone.

That's why you love me, right?

Because, if you wanted a stupid bitch who grins at your friends,

you'd have picked someone else.

You really have no shame.

That's a superpower.

You see no one but yourself.

I see you very clearly, just not as a victim.

You impose

your way of living, speaking, eating,

even fucking.

I could never get you to fuck any other way.

Because you expect me to follow your lead, that's your notion of a couple.

I don't believe it; I don't believe it...

I don't have a notion, I don't give a fuck about couples. Really.

So, you say I'm stopping you

from fucking the way you want.

- Seriously? - Yes.

Who's been refusing to fuck since the accident?

You know I meant before.

What did I ever refuse to do sexually?

Everything.

Everything plus I have to accept that you fuck other people.

I do not fuck other people.

Don't deny it.

Once, and you cling to it in order to suffer!

- You cheated several times. - You make yourself the victim!

I'm not a victim, I'm a man who's been cheated on!

Plundered and cheated on.

I can live without sex, but not forever.

So you blame me? I'm the one frustrating you?

It's not about who's...

who's blaming who or who's frustrating who.

The frustration is there and we're both dealing with it.

Me personally I refuse to rot inside,

so I find solutions.

At this point, sex was a question of personal hygiene!

But you impose your solutions, which are solutions for you only.

You don't give a shit if it hurts me and Daniel.

You leave Daniel out of this. This is not about him.

I do not impose anything on him.

You made us live here among the goats.

You complain about the life you chose!

You're not a victim.

Not at all!

Your generosity conceals something dirtier and meaner.

You're incapable of facing your ambitions and resent me for it.

But I didn't put you where you are. I've nothing to do with it!

You're not sacrificing yourself, as you say.

You choose to sit on the sidelines because you're afraid!

Your pride makes your head explode

before you can even come up with a germ of an idea!

You wake up at 40 needing someone to blame.

You're the one to blame!

You're petrified by your own fucking standards

and fear of failure.

This is the truth.

You're smart. I know you know I'm right.

And Daniel has nothing to do with it. Stop it!

You're a monster.

Even Daniel says it, with his own words.

Take that back, you piece of shit.

He's told me countless times how hard you are.

He's telling you what you want to hear.

He can feel your guilt and he's trying to reassure you,

don't you see that?

You've never stopped feeling guilty about him!

You're cold-hearted.

You have no pity.

And you have way too much for yourself.

I can't stand any more of your fucking ice!

- You're violent! - Yes, I am!

So...

Can you tell us where you found this recording?

On a USB key belonging to the victim.

He made several dozen recordings on his cellphone.

For 6 months, he'd been recording moments from, his life.

For a literary project, apparently.

Did he transcribe all the recordings?

Yes, except this last argument.

Does your investigation link this argument to his death?

Yes. They occurred 20 hours apart and have common themes.

He criticizes her infidelity.

A pretty girl comes the next day.

A literature student,

to interview Sandra Voyter about her books.

There must've been tension in the air.

The two women

were enjoying themselves while he worked hard upstairs.

The argument can be seen as a dress rehearsal for the next day.

How do you interpret the violent outbursts?

We hear blows.

A physical altercation, the accused striking her husband.

What makes it possible for you to reach that conclusion?

She seems to be in a more intense state of rage.

- Sorry? - Speak directly to the court.

She's clearly in a more intense state of rage.

Her shouts at the end of the audio are the last step

before the violence gets physical.

The confusion that follows is hard to analyze, but...

we hear blows to a body or a face,

and the muffled screams we hear

are Mr. Maleski's.

You mentioned bruises on Mrs Voyter.

Show Exhibit 9, please.

This photo was taken on the day her husband died.

How did she explain it?

She initially told us she'd bumped into a kitchen counter.

We pointed out that the bruising was around her wrist,

and looked a lot like signs of a struggle.

Later, when we played her the recording,

she admitted it had happened then,

during their brief struggle.

So you admit you lied?

Yes.

Because..

I was afraid that if I mentioned it,

I knew it would make me a suspect and I got scared.

And you didn't know he'd recorded the fight.

So you lied twice.

About the bruises, and by not mentioning the fight.

For me, it was just one lie.

Because, if I'd been honest about the bruises, I'd have mentioned the argument.

I didn't want to be seen as guilty.

As no guilty person ever does.

Can we time the bruises exactly?

The doctor examined her the following day.

It was too late to determine exactly when they occurred.

So it's possible

a second fight caused the bruises on the day Mr. Maleski died.

What do we hear at the end of the argument?

The first sound of breaking glass

is me throwing a glass against the wall.

A wine glass that was on the table.

After that, I went over to my husband and I slapped him.

That's when he grabbed my wrist, quite violently.

That's the struggling we can hear.

Just after, I tried to stop him from throwing picture frames to the floor

but I couldn't, so we hear them shattering.

Aside from that slap, did you hit him?

No.

What we hear next

is Samuel repeatedly hitting himself in the face and the head,

and then punching the wall.

You can still see the dent.

There are a few around the house, it's not the first time he did that.

Years ago, he already broke a finger

punching the wall during an episode.

We have photos of those dents in the wall.

Thank you.

Here.

And the X-ray of his fractured finger,

taken in June 2017 at the hospital in Grenoble.

Is it fair to say

your depiction of the violence is interpretive and not objective?

She repeatedly lied to us, so believing her...

Thus, this is about believing,

or not believing.

It's a subjective opinion,

based on an ambiguous recording.

You link the argument of the day of the death.

You call it a "dress rehearsal".

Do you have any direct proof?

The recording is direct proof of a fight.

I mean the day of the death.

With no witnesses or confessions, we must interpret.

In fact, this violent fight is...

phantasmal. It exists only as fantasy.

You float the idea,

the prosecutor floats it,

over or around the facts,

making it omnipresent here in court, but...

We risk turning this fantasy into a reality

simply because there was indeed a fight

the day before Mr. Maleski died.

Don't substitute the day before for the next day.

We can't fill the blanks with a supposition,

simply because we have sounds for one and not the other.

Mrs Voyter,

did you know he'd recorded you before you were told?

No, but I knew that he often recorded moments of our lives.

He didn't always let you know?

What were these recordings?

At first, he would mention it.

After a while, he did it without us knowing.

He recorded conversations,

Daniel's piano lessons,

and sometimes just himself, talking to himself.

I think he wanted to gather material to help him start writing again.

Now, with hindsight, it seems possible

that he could have provoked this fight just to record it.

Wait, are you implying you're the victim of a twisted man?

Seriously?

He recorded her in secret. It's a valid question.

You forget the situation is perverse.

Now the victim is on trial!

No, but my client has a point.

Can you explain what he means by cheating,

and how he found out?

He went through my phone and discovered messages

from a woman I'd met at the beginning of that year.

What do you mean by "met"?

It was sexual, we slept together twice.

Twice?

Yes.

On the recording you said once.

It meant with just one person.

Hang on...

Samuel mentions numerous affairs in the past.

It sounds like you cheated constantly.

That's not true.

I had a few flings the year of Daniel's accident.

It wasn't cheating, because Samuel knew.

He found out each time?

No, I told him.

It was a tricky year.

You want us to believe he agreed to it?

I'm not saying that, I'm saying I was honest about it.

Interesting take on honesty.

But the year he died you quit being honest, why?

Things were different.

I felt that it would hurt him too much at that time.

Because you had feelings for that woman?

No, I felt it would hurt him because he was fragile.

And...

As I said, with her it was just sexual.

The person I had feelings for was Samuel.

Interesting take on feelings.

I'm trying to understand.

At first you agreed on an open relationship,

then that changed?

I don't even know what that means, I'm sorry.

Sorry. No, we never had that kind of agreement.

After the accident, we were both trying to feel better.

I needed that to keep it together,

and I was honest.

But then you quit being honest, and he held you accountable.

He doesn't sound "fragile".

- Do you admit he was jealous? - Yes.

OK. Had he become obsessed?

No. I don't know...

He was hurt, that's true.

Sometimes when we fought he brought it up.

But he didn't think about it all the time.

According to your logic, all Samuel's problems were my fault.

That's not true. His pain came from a deeper place.

According to "his" logic you're to blame, as we heard.

What does he mean when he says his work was plundered?

No, there wasn't any plundering.

In the book that he abandoned, there was an interesting passage...

A passage? How many pages?

About 20.

27.

It was just a rough outline. I thought the idea was brilliant.

Can you summarize it?

Must we enter into a literary debate?

This isn't literary, it's concrete.

It's the heart of their conflict.

I don't know how else to present it to the jurors.

Nor do I.

Proceed.

Well...

It was about a guy imagining how his life would've been

without the accident that killed his brother.

He wakes up and finds himself in two different realities.

In one, the accident is the center of his life.

In the other, it never happened.

I told Samuel I loved it.

He had me read everything he wrote back then.

Soon after, he abandoned the whole book.

I asked him if I could use the idea and he said yes.

No.

He couldn't have, he calls it plundering.

It's an argument.

People exaggerate and alter facts when they argue.

It's no exaggeration to say his book became yours: "ECLIPSE".

All I took was this idea.

My characters are a woman and her daughter,

and I developed the story

over 300 pages.

I can't believe I must tell you what's the difference between an outline and a novel?

He agreed to it.

And when he read it, he said I did something very different.

Sometimes yes, when we argued it came out, because...

he was upset because he couldn't write.

The only thing we know for sure is that "it came out".

Did the two of you...

argue again before the time of his death?

It must've been very tense.

We were...

we were both really shaken.

We were both keeping to ourselves and Samuel was...

I don't know, something was gone.

He was depleted, his energy was just gone.

In the audio, I hear Samuel Maleski arguing strenuously.

I hear a man determined to regain control of his life.

In no way a man who has decided to give up.

Samuel's psychiatrist said he was combative in their last sessions.

Do you kill yourself after fighting for time and self-esteem?

Do you kill yourself after pleading so fiercely and energetically

for balance and justice in your relationship? No.

That's the main flaw in the suicide theory.

You say he seemed "depleted".

His energy was gone.

May I read from one of Mrs Voyter's recent books, "The Black House"?

We judge facts, not books.

Judge, this is a slippery slope.

In 2017, Sandra Voyter herself declared, and I quote,

"My books are linked to my life and those in it."

Objection! She's always said her work is fiction.

First book is her mother's death!

Second, a rift with her father.

Third, her son's accident, etc.

Her books are part of this trial.

Her life is in them, her relationship in particular.

Go ahead, but keep it brief.

This is a wife talking about her husband.

"He'd stopped complaining. He'd given up."

"She studied him, repulsed by his resignation."

"An idea sprouted in her mind, a seed of deliverance."

"The possibility of his death."

Give us the context.

Later: "How does one kill?"

"What about the body? Its weight?

"She could think of nothing else.

"She saw him dead, his body a lump no longer desired.

"The body she'd loved

was now in the way and had to go."

I'll provide the context.

This is a minor character, going insane,

who doesn't act on her thoughts.

A novel is not life! An author is not her characters.

But an author can express herself through her characters.

You flagged this passage.

How can we not see a link?

Is Stephen King a serial killer?

Did his wife turn up dead in suspicious circumstances?

Focus on the facts!

Mr. Renzi, I strongly advise you to calm down.

Prosecutor, I advise you to follow Mr. Renzi's advice.

Focus on the facts.

Aside from the slap

you admitted to, did you ever hit your husband?

Never?

That was the only time?

You were always a good, admirable soul,

altruistic, reasonable,

trying to save him from himself,

except on this recording? Rotten luck!

Any more questions for the witness?

I have one more, if I may.

I'd like to know if Maleski

sent the transcripts to anyone?

He sent them to a publisher friend, Paul Nachez,

slated to publish his first novel.

Email from August 9, 2017:

"I'm writing again, I need your eye. Still rough, eager to talk."

Nachez's response:

"Sure, send it and I'll read it."

Up to his death, Maleski sent 4 texts a week.

What was their communication like?

The publisher never replied.

Apparently he was busy and the project mystified him.

His friend's silence

must've hurt Mr. Maleski's already low self-esteem.

He feels rejected.

When we read all the writing he sent,

it's difficult to identify a storyline.

At best, it's a project.

Maleski is a "project man".

His first abandoned novel, the chalet...

So, since we're being asked to mix justice and literature,

to imagine what we don't know,

let's imagine Samuel Maleski's final year.

And I'm dabbling in fantasy?

Give me half the time you took to read a book!

Get to the point.

What was Samuel Maleski's final year like?

After accumulating debt from medical procedures in London,

he insists on returning to his hometown.

He finds a chalet to fix up and rent. They'll pay off their debts.

He'll quit teaching and start writing full-time.

Renovation proves tricky. They have to take out a loan.

A vicious circle begins.

Samuel needs his teaching wages. Renovations drag on.

A year and a half later,

he feels trapped.

He's a wounded man.

His son's accident, his abandoned novel,

his wife publishing book after book.

He must write!

He quits the antidepressants and starts recording his life,

embarking on a kind of auto-fiction,

perhaps inspired by Sandra's method.

And why not? She borrows from their lives.

She did borrow his idea.

Save it for your plea.

He's running. But refuses to see that transcribing

is not writing.

His publisher friend's silence humiliates him.

What do we hear in the March 4th fight?

The energy, the willfulness... What is it?

The energy of despair.

The final push before giving up.

In his final days, this man isn't facing a war in his marriage.

He's facing his own failures.

Sandra Voyter is only guilty

of succeeding where her husband failed.

Despite appearances, those were not Mr. Renzi's closing arguments.

That wasn't Samuel.

It's Friday evening, we have a weekend ahead of us.

Before I adjourn, I have an announcement.

I've decided to call Daniel back to the bar on Monday.

He has new information of interest.

Since the witness is the defendant's son

and lives with his mother,

I'm asking everyone to refrain from contacting him.

Obviously, if contact is inevitable,

refrain from discussing the trial.

Mrs Berger,

you'll stay with Daniel all weekend.

See to it these rules are respected.

I insist that no one,

absolutely no one, can ask him about his testimony.

Have a good weekend, get some rest.

Court is adjourned.

- Come get warm. - Ready in 10!

You OK?

I think I want to be alone.

OK.

- You can eat in your room. - No.

I want to be alone this weekend.

Before I testify.

Alone?

Just you and me?

Is that it?

Are you sure?

We can find other solutions. It's a big house.

I want her to leave.

I just spoke to Daniel.

He wants to be alone this weekend.

Until the end of the trial.

Is that what you want?

OK. Is it because of what you heard today?

I couldn't talk to you about all that before.

We weren't allowed to..

No trial talk.

I know, I'm just talking to my son.

OK.

I totally understand that you need calm.

I can mind my own business, keep to myself.

I won't talk to you if you don't want. Can we try that?

No speaking English.

You can talk to me.

Couldn't you and I discuss this, and then you decide?

I think he's made his decision.

Yeah, I'll just get my stuff.

Somebody said,

of course money doesn't make you happy,

but it's still better to cry in a car than in a subway.

Who said that?

I don't know.

Sorry.

Go on.

Eat up.

Snoop...

Marge!

Marge, come quick, please!

What is it?

I gave him aspirin, I messed up bad.

- You gave him aspirin? - Yes!

How much?

8 or 10, I can't remember.

A lot.

Make him vomit.

Why'd you do that?

Make him vomit! Please!

OK, hang on.

"Make a dog vomit."

Hang on.

We need saltwater. Be right back.

He's not moving.

Daniel, help me.

Open his mouth.

Easy.

That's right.

That's good.

He's coming around.

- What's happening? - He's going to vomit.

That's it.

He'll be OK.

Good dog.

He's OK, he's breathing. Looking at us.

Can you explain?

You know, I...

I'd never heard about...

my dad's suicide attempt.

I'd never heard about...

the shrink, the medicine...

the vomit and aspirin.

When my mom talked about it, I remembered something

from around that time.

One morning,

Snoop was lying on my bedroom floor.

Not moving. He smelled like vomit.

I figured he'd vomited.

I cleaned his muzzle.

I figured he'd...

I don't know, caught a virus or something, because...

he acted strange for days.

He just slept or drank.

See? Now I'm thinking maybe he ate my dad's vomit,

and "that" made him sick,

and Mom told the truth!

So my experiment with the aspirin

was to see how he'd react.

And you saw.

He slept for 14 hours. Now he's drinking all the time.

He smells exactly the same!

Everything!

Everything's exactly the same!

But since..

Since yesterday, I'm not sure if I believe her or not.

I knew they fought, but...

It wasn't...

I didn't think it was that violent.

Your memories are all you're sure of,

and it's important to tell the jury.

But you're just a witness.

Do you think she could've killed him?

It's not for me to judge.

I know, but you could at least tell me!

I can't answer that. My role is to protect you...

Fucking help me!

Actually,

when we lack an element

to judge something, and the lack is unbearable,

all we can do is decide.

You see?

To overcome doubt, sometimes we have to...

decide to sway one way rather than the other.

Since you need to believe one thing but have two choices,

you must choose.

So you have to invent your belief?

Yes, well... in a sense.

So that means, I'm not sure...

and you're saying I have to pretend I'm sure?

No, I'm saying decide.

That's different.

What strikes me is we don't know who's more lyrical.

- The author or the character? - Both, no doubt!

Voyter plays with confusion.

Her second book goes further,

telling how her father couldn't stand the first.

Undoubtedly true.

The rift degenerates, forcing her to leave her country.

Fearing her father's rage, she falls prey to horrifying visions.

I found this troubling quote in an interview. She says,

"My job is to cover the tracks,"

"so fiction can destroy reality."

Yes, and what excites people

about the Samuel Maleski case,

is that it seems to come from one of her books.

It feels like she's already written it.

Even the doubts around his death, the way he died,

Voyter's murky personality, the amoral, deceptive traits

she seems to overplay...

It all reads like her books.

I don't think it matters how he died.

The fact is, the idea of a writer killing her husband

is far more compelling than a teacher killing himself.

If I imagine my mother doing it, I don't understand.

But if I imagine my father...

I think I can understand.

Prosecutor, any questions?

The experiment on his dog proves nothing.

It's not documented.

More problematic are these providential memories,

clearly jarred by what he heard during the trial.

No event can be placed convincingly on our timeline.

The time frame of 6 months before Maleski's death

comes only from testimony

given by the defendant herself.

I'd like to know...

Did you ever wonder

if the overdose your father supposedly took

might've resulted not from a suicide attempt,

but from an attempt by your mother to poison him?

I'm not accusing, just making a point.

So, taking these speculations,

why choose one over the other?

Your memories speak to the consequences, not the causes.

Yes, I thought about that, but...

I don't see why she would've done it.

It feels like when we lack proof

to make us sure how something happened,

we have to look further, as the trial is doing.

When we've looked everywhere and still don't understand

how the thing happened,

I think we have to ask why it happened.

Thank you, Daniel.

Are you finished?

No.

I want to say something else.

Since my dog was sick for days, Dad and I went to the vet.

Dad was really quiet in the car.

He didn't even play music. He usually always does.

After a while, he started talking about Snoop.

He said,

"You know, he could get sick."

"Even die. You know that. You need to be ready."

I didn't want to hear that.

Snoop was doing better. He was still young.

He'd never been sick.

I told him he wasn't going to die.

But he kept going.

He said, "You need to be aware of it. It'll happen someday."

"And it's no wonder Snoop gets tired."

"He's not so young in dog years."

"Can you imagine his life?"

"He's not just any dog."

"He's a great dog."

"An outstanding dog."

"Think about it. He anticipates your needs,"

"foresees your movements,"

"keeps you safe from danger."

"He spends his life imagining your needs"

"thinking about what you can't see."

"Maybe he's tired."

"Always caring for others."

"Maybe one day, he'll be done."

"That could happen."

And I remember at the end,

he said, "One day",

"when it's time for him to go, he'll go."

"You won't be able to help it. Prepare yourself, it'll be hard."

"But it won't be the end of your life."

He meant himself.

Now...

Now I know he meant himself.

I implore the jurors to bear in mind

this story is extremely subjective.

In no way does it qualify as any form of proof.

Yes Serge, we are still outside the courthouse in Grenoble.

The trial was scheduled to end on Friday,

but Sandra Voyter's son Daniel

insisted on testifying again this morning.

The jury is still...

Daniel.

Mrs Voyter, how do you feel...

after being acquitted?

There were too many words in this trial.

I've nothing more to say.

I want to call my son and go home.

Obviously I thank my lawyers, who always believed in me.

Mr. Renzi, are you relieved?

I commend the jury,

who saw Sandra Voyter as she is...

Marge, it's Sandra.

Yes, it's incredible, we're relieved.

Does Daniel want to talk to me?

Of course, he must be tired,

I understand.

Does he mind if I come home tonight?

Would he prefer tomorrow, or...

OK, OK.

We'll get some dinner, then I'll be home. See you then.

I need a drink.

Another!

Do you always...

When you win, do you always do this?

We never win.

That's the fucking first time in our life we win!

- No! - Yes, of course!

You told me you're a good lawyer.

No, it's not true!

It's not spicy.

You have to try this, really.

We ate too much.

I'm gonna throw up.

A quick smoke first.

Be right back.

You first.

It's not so easy, huh?

With all the bones, and...

After this, we go?

Ready to go home?

I can drive, I can drive you.

One more.

For the road.

Of course, for the driver.

Same?

Can I just get

two more of these? Thanks.

To you.

Are you alright?

Tell me.

I just, I thought...

I thought I'd feel relieved.

It doesn't come right away.

Sure?

Not sure.

It's just, you know, when you lose, you lose.

It's the worst thing that can happen,

and if you win...

you expect some reward.

But there isn't any.

It's just...

It's just over.

Maybe sometimes, we expect too much.

Yeah, maybe.

Hi.

Sorry.

He tried to wait up but fell asleep.

I'll be going now.

Not staying over?

No, I'll leave you be.

- Goodbye. - Goodbye.

I was afraid of you coming home.

Me too, I was afraid to come home.