- Is this it?
- One more floor. You hear?
It's about time. There's a nail in my shoe.
What do you want?
- Got anything for us?
- Something good.
- What's your act?
- Fantasy.
We already have that.
- And you?
- Realist.
We have that, too. We have everything here.
Where do you usually perform?
At the Maisons-Alfort Casino.
Nice place. Good crowd. I've worked there.
In my day, they didn't have a casino.
I sang at the terrace.
- Jenny, please, behave yourself.
- What's wrong?
Léo was teaching me a great song.
- Using his hands?
- What a mind.
You nitwit. Don't you know we sing
with our hands in Marseilles?
Fine, but that's no reason
to touch my wife's thighs.
- He was keeping time.
- Let him talk, my dear.
Imagine, a young fellow
jealous of an old fogy like me.
It's flattering.
Amazingly stupid, but flattering.
- First of all, I'm not jealous.
- Then you're insulting me.
- What does that clown want?
- To rehearse.
What are you waiting for?
Go. Leave us alone.
Hey, who's the governor around here?
Sit down, Maurice. Let me croon it for you.
The clown can wait. Hold this, Jenny.
Hey, the clarinet. C-sharp, man. C-sharp.
It's not there.
- Look, Leo, the music's wrong.
- I'm not surprised.
- So are we doing this?
- Hurry, Jenny, the animals are waiting.
- Another bow?
- No, that's enough.
- I'll get her a brandy.
- You do that, Martineau.
Listen to them cheering.
The way she wiggles her behind,
she can't miss.
If it's so easy, what are you waiting for?
Go wiggle your own behind.
Just leave me alone.
And now, get ready
for some side-splitting fun.
Here come Julot and Picrat,
the famous Wheeling Winos.
- I was good?
- Didn't you hear them?
And this is a Saturday crowd.
Wait till tomorrow's matinee.
Stage fright makes me sweat.
My underwear is soaked.
- Let's see.
- The shock would k*ll you.
Bravo, my dear. Nice work.
Other than the lousy voice and gestures
it was perfect.
Anyway, I'll print you up a big poster.
In two colours.
"Words and music by Léopardi.
Performed by Jenny Lamour."
- Any room for me?
- For the director? Always.
How about us tired, poor
and huddled masses?
You dear old thing, I almost forgot you.
Your pipe's in the way.
Othello, why the glum face?
- Give her this.
- Come on, Maurice. You're stupid.
He'll never understand.
It's his bad upbringing.
His parents were bourgeois.
He sees vice everywhere.
- Look at the light.
- Like this?
Your arm a little higher. Higher.
No, wait, I think you need to...
No, just tell me what you want.
I don't like being touched.
Maurice must love that.
With him, it's different, my dear.
I can't get enough.
- You get along in that department?
- You want details?
Would you like me to tell you
about the on days and off days?
- You're so aggressive.
- But you're so interested.
You've got a one-track mind.
It's odd seeing you two together.
You're so unalike.
Don't move.
- Smile.
- I don't feel like it.
I like you, but I don't like you
prying into Maurice's business.
Don't be foolish.
We're friends.
Maurice and I were raised together.
Childhood friends.
It starts with marbles and ends in bed.
Not us.
with you, it's worse.
When I'm alone with you, fine.
Alone with him, fine, too.
But when I find you two chatting,
you both shut up.
- It's like you pull a curtain.
- We are always talking about you.
Here goes.
You can get up.
We'll finish with a close-up.
The truth is, he doesn't understand me.
He's a man. Men can't really understand us.
It's not hard though. I want to make it big,
but it's him I love. Other men bore me.
It's not just physical. It's spiritual.
Without him, I'm lost.
It may sound strange to you,
but Maurice is my flame.
He may not burn bright,
but he lights my way.
- Ready?
- Just a second.
Terrific. That'll do it.
Great. I was getting tired.
Posing for photographers
can be such a bore.
It's such a pleasure doing you a favour.
Silly. I only tease people I like.
Really?
- Can you develop them right away?
- I doubt it.
- What is it?
- Wait here a second.
My dear, good day to you.
- I wasn't expecting you.
- I know. I came by on the off chance.
Can't you see me now?
- It's just that...
- Forgive me for insisting,
but at my age you have these whims.
When the urge hits you...
I'll see what I can do. Have a seat.
You, too.
- Well?
- You have to go.
- A bore?
- A customer.
A dirty old man
who brings girls to photograph.
And what girls.
- Nice work.
- I promise you I don't do it for fun.
But the old man is Brignon.
You know, Colonial Trading,
Southwest Electric, Omega Films.
- Won't you be cold?
- Just to go up one floor?
What a nice surprise. How are you, child?
Fine, thank you, Mr Brignon.
I must see you in my office tomorrow.
- I have something for you.
- Really?
- Something first-rate.
-I'm so glad.
Excuse me. It's late.
Right away, my dear. At once.
We'll just step into the next room
and I'll get her ready.
See you tomorrow, then?
- You never told me you knew him.
- You never asked.
- Where did you meet?
- Right outside.
He promised me to get me into film.
Do you know who you're dealing with?
So? I wasn't born yesterday.
I'll take him for a ride. And what a ride.
Is she ready?
One moment, please.
Do I take everything off, sir?
No, my dear, not the shoes.
Never the shoes.
Was little Jenny posing for you just now?
- Could I have a proof?
- No, sorry. It's for an American magazine.
What a pity. A terrible pity.
Is this all right?
Delicious. Simply delicious.
And so chaste.
Say what you will,
I'd rather spend my money on this
than a Manet or a Picasso.
It's so much more interesting.
- Did Jenny come in?
- Five minutes ago.
Put Maxwell in her slot
and send her on after the cyclists.
- She'll grumble.
- Well, it'll teach her a lesson.
Two nights in a row is too much.
- Where were you?
- I told you, at the hairdresser's.
- Look at your hair.
- Exactly.
What?
I had an appointment with Alfred.
He didn't show. I waited.
- Till 10:00 at night?
- You're so ridiculous.
Not enough to believe you.
Where were you?
- You should be a detective.
- Tell me where you've been.
I had a drink with a very important man.
So there.
Was it Brignon?
Brignon? Why would you say that?
I see. Of course, Dora told on me.
Don't say that. She did nothing wrong.
She just did her duty.
- Brignon is a dangerous swine.
- She ought to know.
If he were poor,
he'd have been in jail long ago.
There you go.
"The capitalists. The big fortunes."
- Can we go?
- Of course.
You're jealous of the rich
because you don't know how to earn money.
Well, I'm not like you.
I want my share of their dough.
- Plus, I'm all for royalty.
- But your father was a labourer.
So what? Under Louis XV,
I'd have been Madame de Pompadour.
- I'd have heated up their tights.
- You're being despicable.
You're right. Why should we fight?
I won't see Brignon again.
- Promise?
- I swear.
Martineau?
Once his director signs me, it's
goodbye Mr Brignon.
- You're seeing him tomorrow?
- I have to.
For lunch with his director at Lapérouse.
I said no. I'd rather see you locked up.
Fine. You know how much movies pay?
Not to mention the publicity.
You'd make me miss out on that
because of a business lunch?
- Then why didn't Brignon invite me?
- He doesn't even know you exist.
- You didn't tell him you're married?
-I'm not stupid.
I'm telling you we'll both look foolish.
Why? I drop my wife at the restaurant
and say hello to Brignon.
That's not shocking or impolite.
You asked for it.
- What are you doing?
-I'm cancelling.
You win. Enjoy it while it lasts.
You haven't heard the last of it.
Can't I drive you there?
No, it's all over. It was fine till you
stuck your nose in.
Hello? Lapérouse? Mr Brignon, please.
He reserved a table.
Great. A private dining room for two.
Call that a business lunch?
- Where are you going?
- To settle your contract.
Well, it's just that...
- The lady sent me.
-I'm sorry, sir. This way, please.
- What is the meaning of this?
-I'm Jenny Lamour's husband.
Husbands usually show up the day after.
Don't get clever.
Have you ever gone through a window?
A fight. There go the dishes.
Swine.
You're lucky I don't hit you.
Go near my wife again and I'll k*ll you.
So there you are.
Perfect timing. It's all settled.
- Maurice, what did you do?
- You can ask him. He's waiting with flowers.
I'll never forgive you.
You think you're clever, don't you?
I'll get him to forgive me.
- Yes, and I'll k*ll you both.
- You idiot, then k*ll me.
You'd be caught in no time.
It'll be the guillotine for you.
I'd have an alibi.
You? You're too clumsy.
You'd get the guillotine.
You'd like that.
Jenny just phoned.
Her poor grandmother's sick.
She's going to see her.
She may stay the night.
- I'll talk to her.
- No, she hung up.
Did she know I was here?
Yes, but she was in a hurry.
- That's odd.
- No, it's not odd at all.
Don't get any ideas.
I'd be ashamed to doubt
a nice girl like Jenny.
She adores you.
No one's as faithful as she is.
Men are such idiots.
Isn't that right, Ginette?
And a good thing, too. Let's continue.
Mr Maurice, I was waiting for you.
Your wife rushed out at 4:00.
- I know, I know.
- She said...
I know, Mrs Beauchamp. She phoned me.
Okay. She was afraid I'd forget.
- Did she mention dinner?
- No, but it doesn't matter.
Beans on the stove
and there's veal in the cupboard.
Stop it. He's just a poor wretch.
It's such a shame.
Operator? This is Turbigo 53-68.
I am speaking loudly. Turbigo 53-68.
I want Enghien 203.
That's impossible. Someone should answer.
Fine. I'll try again later.
You'd be caught in no time.
It'll be the guillotine for you.
I'd have an alibi.
You? You're too clumsy.
You'd get the guillotine.
One standing room, please.
What are you doing, Maurice?
You don't have to buy a ticket.
You're part of the profession.
- Jenny's not with you?
- No, she's with her sick grandmother.
Nice of you to spend your night off with us.
A seat for Mr Martineau.
No, I'd rather stand.
Please. There's a good seat
in the fourth row. Enjoy the show.
This way, Mr Martineau.
Listen, I'll stay here.
I hate disturbing people.
Aren't you the shy one.
Sometimes.
- Everything going well?
- Just great.
- And Miss Jenny?
- Just great.
Maurice, how are you?
You were inside?
Looking for someone?
- Yes, Leon.
- I'll get him.
Leon, someone is looking for you.
You were looking for me, Mr Martineau?
Yes, would have any butter?
No, sorry, I didn't get my delivery tonight.
- But I've got shoes. They're wonderful.
- No, some other time.
I'm very sorry.
Come, come. ls it that bad?
Did you have another fight with Maurice?
- I just k*lled Brignon.
- What? Are you mad?
I didn't mean to.
- You went to his house?
- I didn't realise.
You knew. You were warned.
Please, don't torment me.
I thought everything would go fine.
I went there to sign my contract.
Do you understand? My contract.
Well?
We had dinner and then...
I can't even say it.
A man old enough to be my father.
I tried to leave. He locked the door.
Sol picked up a champagne bottle
and hit him with all my might.
He fell backwards, mouth wide open,
his eyes fixed on me.
What a mess.
I'm afraid, Dora.
Let it be a lesson to you.
Poor Maurice is in for a shock.
Please don't tell him. Please don't.
He'd never forgive me. He'd be so hurt.
I don't want that. I love him so much.
I never realised how much. Promise me.
All right. I promise.
Only you know.
Everyone else thinks I'm in Enghien.
My fox fur.
- What?
- I left my fur coat there.
- Are you sure?
- I left it on the couch.
It can't stay there.
His eyes might still be open.
Don't make me go back.
I'm not asking you to. I'll go.
- You?
- Don't worry. There's no risk.
I don't want you to go to prison.
They cut off your hair. It's cold.
I don't want that.
Why are you doing this for me?
I've always been so mean to you.
I'm doing it
for Maurice, understand?
- Maurice, you were here tonight?
- Obviously.
- Shall we go?
- I have to get my coat.
That's alright, I'll go with you.
What a night.
- You didn't notice?
- Notice what?
Seriously.
That's a relief.
When I opened the casket,
the mirror wouldn't work.
- You didn't notice?
- Not at all.
Mr Martineau, so there you are.
I could have missed my train.
Here are your things.
Where were you at intermission?
Leon got his butter. We looked for you.
I was in the balcony.
So that's why.
Maurice, what's the matter? You look sick.
It's nothing, just the heat.
Maurice, what is it now?
Something awful. I was at Brignon's.
I almost went to the police, but I was afraid.
They'd never believe me.
But it wasn't me.
I didn't k*ll him. I swear I didn't.
You believe me?
You don't look like a m*rder*r,
that's for sure.
As long as it's not Jenny.
You're completely mad. Why Jenny?
Jenny k*lling someone?
You know she's in Enghien.
- No one answered the phone there.
- Maybe she was out.
Her grandmother's ill.
- We'll settle this now.
- What are you doing?
Operator? Enghien 203, please.
The call is going through. Here.
You understand, Grandmother?
I came at 5:30 because you're sick.
- I'm fine. I'll outlive all of you.
- That's not what I mean.
What now?
Of course it's me.
What did you break?
What a time to call people.
You're being ridiculous.
Nobody answered at 9:00.
Of course. The salesgirl left the line
connected to the shop.
We can't hear it ring from upstairs.
You might have thought first
before disturbing grandmother so late. Really.
Sure, see you tomorrow.
- What did I tell you?
- You're right. I'm an idiot.
I got all worked up for nothing.
- When Jenny finds out...
- She'd better not.
I'd never hear the end of it.
- Wouldn't it be better...
- No, I'm miserable enough as it is.
As you wish.
You promise?
Again?
Again? You didn't promise anything.
Think so? Well, what are you going do?
I promise, then.
I'm such a fool.
I should have been
with a girl like you, Dora.
Don't feel so bad.
I'm a funny kind of girl.
The car's outside, governor.
A man was m*rder*d in his home.
The servants found him.
Some people have no sense of timing.
Couldn't he have waited till tomorrow?
I'm sure he'd have liked to.
What about me?
Ballandieu's on night duty tomorrow.
He'd have been delighted.
He's itching to be called governor.
If you could hurry it up,
we have to collect the Chief.
- He's coming?
- In person.
Great. Not that he's such a genius,
but misery loves company.
Funny, you were aching for clients.
But not tonight.
- Got something on?
- Me? Not likely.
No woman ever sets foot in here.
I just hate leaving the child alone.
The one night he's not at the dorm.
We were supposed to have a bite
before I brought him back to school.
His been looking forward to this for months.
You really love your boy.
He's all I brought back from the colonies.
Him and malaria. Fifteen years.
Damn it all.
Look how soundly he sleeps.
He's good in school.
Except in geometry. He's rather poor at
that.
- What does he want to be in life?
- A pilot.
I was like him. Then I came down to earth.
In the Foreign Legion. Staff sergeant.
Had you stayed, you'd be a major by now.
Hardly. I sh*t off my mouth too much.
Give me a hand.
You were lucky.
If that b*llet came any more left...
- It still hurts you, doesn't it?
- Sometimes.
But we're paid for that.
We should be, anyway.
Never took the captaincy exams?
Twice. I failed because of my appearance.
I didn't have the right look.
I told them to go to hell.
Who's this Brignon?
A rich old man with influence.
We've got to use kid-gloves.
I can't afford them.
Don't forget your overcoat.
I won't.
Don't you worry, darling.
If I nail this chap,
he's going to pay for that bite.
A woman did it?
Looks like it. The police found
a blonde hair on his jacket.
Say, Emile, Passy's your b*at.
You didn't see that blonde?
You'll think I'm making this up,
but one of my fares that night was a blonde.
I picked her up near the villa
and took her to des Bourdonnais Street.
Why didn't you tell the police?
Do I look like an informer to you?
I don't care. Let them dance. It's their
job.
- Still, if you were a good citizen...
- I am one.
Because the less I see of coppers,
the better I behave.
- Have you seen today's paper?
- No. Why?
- You steal that car?
- Yell from the rooftops, why don't you?
Some man was k*lled there last night.
Name of Brignon.
- Who did it?
- Some idiot. Nothing stolen.
Crime of passion, probably.
This smells bad. You better ditch the heap.
- If you're caught, you're cooked.
- I need it.
Mind your own business.
I want marabou trimmings
on my dressing gown.
Why the hell should I care?
What makes you so cheery these days?
You've changed lately.
Aren't you ashamed?
You haven't even shaved yet.
You could at least answer me.
- Jenny, come kiss me.
- You'll make me mess it up.
Leave it.
- What's wrong? Have you gone mad?
- Perhaps.
- Don't move. Stay put.
- What is it?
He won't go away. Answer it.
I'm not here. I went out.
- Miss Dora Monnier, please.
- Ground floor.
I know, but she's not in.
The concierge said to try here.
Dora's out shopping.
Fine, I'll send her a summons.
- Wait. Are you the police?
- Yes. It's been a pleasure.
Don't go. Dora should be right back.
I thought you were peddling
vacuum cleaners.
- Are you offended?
- Not at all. It's a fine profession.
- But I'm in a hurry.
- She won't be long.
Use those slippers, though.
I'm waxing the floors.
You should come by my place.
Is Dora in trouble?
No, just a few questions.
- If it were serious, he wouldn't say.
- Probably not.
Especially as you're good friends
of Miss Dora's.
Good friends, yes.
You don't look anything like a policeman.
- You don't even have a raincoat.
- It was stolen.
From you? You're joking.
- Where?
- At my office.
And have you caught the thief?
It's not easy. Too much coming and going.
It's a madhouse.
But theft's not my department. I'm in
Homicide.
It's another world.
The police get a tip
on a con or a sting...
I mean, on a fugitive or a burglary...
I understood. I'm an artist.
...they just nab their man.
But a dead body is just where we start. May
I?
We really go to town.
- And the results?
- This year our average is up to 48%.
Giving a k*ller a 50-50 chance.
More or less. Depends on the case.
I'm on the Brignon case.
We're pulling out all the stops.
Tough luck for the fool who did it.
Society has to protect itself.
Cost is no object here.
But no one looks at the tab,
and this one will cost.
Nowadays, it's sheer madness.
Really?
I'll do some arithmetic to give you an idea.
Fifteen detectives at 9,000.
-9,000?
- We can't let them starve to death.
- Three DL's.
- DL's?
Deputy inspectors.
Three at 11,000 each. That's my salary.
The detective captain at 13,000,
the second whip, the deputy chief,
criminal records office, emergency services,
public prosecutor's office.
Not counting the trial, if we get that far.
That's a high price
for an old rascal like him.
So if you don't find the k*ller,
you won't cry over it?
On the contrary. That's the mad part.
Our job has a sporting side.
Old rascal or not, we respect the client.
Wait. That's her now.
- See? I was right.
- I'll be right down.
- He's coming.
- Who is it?
A man. You'll see.
Fine.
- My apologies.
- Not at all.
It's been a pleasure.
Are you mad?
Why did you stop him from leaving?
- He was interesting.
- You think so?
He lit his pipe with Brignon's address,
in your handwriting.
By they way, guess where I found it?
In the kitchen, hidden behind a pan.
- How about that?
- You knew I was meeting Brignon.
He gave you his home address?
Sure. I was supposed to pick him up there.
But I changed my mind.
I didn't think it wasn't proper.
Jenny, you're too much.
Idiot.
So you admit having taken these photos?
- Why not? Aren't nude photos still legal?
- It depends which ones.
But that's Vice's business.
I'm only interested in the models.
Unfortunately, I don't know them.
He picked them up everywhere.
They came in all shades and sizes.
This one was a movie extra.
The Barricourt Agency handles her.
- This one, too.
- Let me jot this down.
Don't you only want blondes?
Because of the hair?
Never jump to conclusions.
The hair could have been there for days.
- Weren't you pretty close to Brignon?
- Me?
For this sort of work.
I met him at a movie studio.
I was doing stills.
He knew I might need him. He used that.
He never used it to invite you to his home?
No, I wasn't his type.
Brignon was a bourgeois, very shy.
I'm too off-putting.
He needed these young girls
he could dominate.
A dirty old man.
How did you know I took these?
Just routine. We gave your proofs to Vice.
One girl was a registered prost*tute.
She put us on to you.
A projector like this must be expensive.
Say. A 2.8.
- Are you a connoisseur?
- I do some Sunday photography.
Nothing exciting.
I sh**t houses, old shops, small streets.
- Barnivel got me hooked.
- Barnivel?
You don't remember him? A curious
fellow.
Unfortunately, he had this thing
about poisoning people.
He wiped out his whole family.
His wife, two daughters, his brother-in-law.
He photographed them
on their deathbed. A real artist.
I missed him after he was booked.
We'd become friends.
- Does that happen often?
- Befriending the clientele?
Sure. Just from being together a lot.
It's good for our education.
We don't have much schooling.
We move in all kinds of circles,
meet a lot of people.
I learned engraving from a counterfeiter,
accounting from a swindler.
A taxi dancer tried to teach me the tango,
but nothing doing. It wasn't up my alley.
Shake my left, it's nearer the heart.
It's been a pleasure.
- I need a break, Toscano. Do you mind?
- Don't stop for me. I can wait.
Let's rehearse the Doina.
You wanted to see us?
- Just for a minute.
- This is hardly the place.
True. I could have brought you
down to the station,
but it's urgent, so I came by myself.
If this is going be long, I'm sitting down.
- It's that urgent?
- Well, you know,
the sooner it's settled, the better.
For everyone.
- Waiter.
- What would you like?
- Yes, a little space.
-I'm sorry?
Breathing room. Understand?
Make yourself scarce.
Let's sit down.
They remind me of my Negroes
in the Legion. The tom-toms.
Say, you two really took me for a ride.
- You knew Brignon very well.
- Not very well.
Sure, your relations with the victim
were even pretty tense.
- I chewed him out one time.
- A little chewing-out.
I'm going to read a deposition
from Mr Prosper-Michaux, Pascal,
"Apprentice waiter at Laperouse.
Born..."
"The door was closed, but we could
hear him insulting Mr Brignon.
"He called him a swine.
"He said, 'If you go near my wife again,
I'll k*ll you."'
ls this serious?
When you're mad, you say anything.
Yes, you're telling me.
The problem is, words like that
are considered death threats in court.
In court?
Sure, you're not the only one
to quarrel with Brignon,
but you're sort of at the top of the list.
Are you saying Maurice k*lled Brignon?
I knew you were a funny kind of policeman.
Jenny, shut up, will you?
It would be less funny
if you didn't have an alibi.
Relax. I spent the night at the Eden,
a music hall in Ménilmontant.
I see.
Do you mind? I have a memory like a sieve.
Eden, Ménilmontant, "T-A-N-T".
I'll leave you alone.
Of course, your wife was with you?
I was at my grandmother's.
Get your pencil back out.
Madam Beudin.
Drycleaner in Enghien. "H-|-E-N."
- You never know when I might top your list.
- Fine.
- Don't go pestering grandmother too much.
- You think we enjoy it?
Come down to the station tomorrow.
- You want me for...
- A simple deposition.
Goodbye. It's been a pleasure.
Some pleasure.
- Were you really at the Eden?
- Of course. ls that so strange?
I'm surprised, that's all.
- Last week you hated the bill.
- If you doubt me, call him back.
Please, not so loud.
If only you hadn't insulted Brignon,
we wouldn't be here.
You compromised yourself.
I know, I was wrong.
And it's costing me plenty.
But believe me, baby,
this is no time to tell me off.
The police won't stop till they find out...
Find out what?
Who did it. Who the k*ller is.
Why should you care? You were in Enghien.
- You were there, weren't you?
- Of course I was.
No, you weren't.
My love, you're not well.
I went to see your grandmother.
I talked to her.
She's like you, a liar.
Grandmother? A liar?
You weren't there when I phoned.
Where were you?
In Enghien.
- You swear?
- Yes, I do.
- On your grandmother's head?
- I never swear on my grandmother.
Why not, if it's true?
If I swear on my grandmother,
you'll never mention this again?
I promise.
- Ready, Jenny?
- Coming.
- Come, we'll rehearse my waltz.
- You didn't swear.
Say it. "On my grandmother's head..."
I swear I was in Enghien Monday night.
Yes, Martineau was here a week ago.
He even wanted to buy a ticket.
Why? ls there something wrong?
Probably. Otherwise,
I'd be home in bed right now.
- Where was he sitting?
- In the fourth row.
- Wait. Violette?
- Yes, Mr Mareuil.
Didn't you seat Mr Martineau last week?
He stood, so as not to disturb anyone.
He's such a nice man. Not like Fernand.
- Fernand?
- My boyfriend. He can be so rude.
- Great. Who cares?
-I'm sorry.
Martineau spent
the whole evening standing?
Well, he never left.
I was in the lobby till the end.
- My ticket taker had a wedding.
- And at the intermission?
I handed out the passes.
We're one big family here.
Fine.
- You're Mister...
- Mareuil.
Here's your invitation.
Tomorrow morning at 11:00,
at 36, Quai des Orfévres.
- You'll put this in writing.
- Fine.
Care to see the end of the show?
One invite deserves another.
Thanks, but I'm not obligated to accept.
I'm going home to bed.
If you want to take notes with me,
Inspector...
- I saw Mr Martineau, too.
- Good for you.
I could have testified. I know a few facts.
Mr Martineau checked
his coat and hat with me.
He only picked them up at 11:45.
I'll be damned. Well, well.
Do standing room people
usually check their coats?
No, of course not.
Tell me,
is it normal for a professional
to spend intermission in the house?
I don't know. Usually they go backstage
to see their buddies.
- I think I'll go have a look around.
- Where? Backstage?
The iron door at the end of the gallery.
And now, ladies and gentlemen,
since you've been so good,
the management is glad to present
a 10-minute intermission.
You saw Martineau at intermission?
No. At the beginning and end of the show.
-It was on Monday night?
- Maybe.
Hold on.
It was the night Nitram was sick
and didn't go on.
Yes, it was a Monday. You're right.
I hesitated to say so.
Got to be careful with the police.
And how.
So careful that you don't forget
to be at the station tomorrow at 5:00.
- It's just that...
- What?
Tuesday afternoons are sacred.
I'm with my girlfriend.
She'll do without you.
It'll be a vacation for her.
- Going back in?
- Not at all. I'm finished.
Use the alley if you're in a hurry.
- There's an exit here?
- The stage door.
- Is there a concierge?
- What for? We're one big family.
I'm beginning to believe it.
- Will that be all?
- Not quite.
I've been here for two hours
answering stupid questions.
And I've been asking them for 10.
Do I get upset?
A light? No extra cost.
Wait, I'll get one.
- How is it?
- Not good.
Eugene's nervous,
even though I'm being nice.
Come on, Eugene, talk.
- I'm not hungry.
- I can wait.
- Did your call come through?
- Not yet. I'm worried.
With this, old man,
you can land a six-pound pike.
So you left the Eden at 11:45 p.m.
and got home at...
It took 15 minutes to get there
and 45 to get home.
I stopped at a café for a drink.
- Which café?
- A small bistro across from the stage door.
Fayard? I'm bringing Martineau up
to see you in five minutes.
Switchboard? Antoine speaking.
If I get a call, I'm in Fayard's office.
It's urgent.
- This way out.
- Where are you taking me?
To give a witness statement.
We go by the rules.
- Albert. You were arrested?
- Like a idiot. In a raid.
I warned you about staying in Pigalle.
I not in jail yet. So don't cry.
He's going down this time.
When you get tired of scrapping,
you'll see I was right.
The colonies are much, much roomier.
You'd make a k*lling there.
Sure, or end up a bull in a frayed jacket
and wrinkled trousers.
Thanks for the advice.
As you like, my friend.
- Until next time.
- Come on, move it.
- A real hard-liner.
- What did he do?
Don't ask. He belongs to another world.
Sit down.
- Is the Chief here?
- In his office.
In here you make
your deposition under oath.
- Before whom?
- The captain is a magistrate.
- He's not here.
- He will be. Don't fuss.
Are you going feed us a pack of lies?
No, I swear.
- Let's hear your statement.
- I have it all down.
"Having been duly sworn,
Mr Martineau, Maurice,
"born in Avranches..."
June 15, 1916.
Accompanying pianist
for Léopardi Music Publishing...
governor, I've found seven bank accounts
in Brignon's name.
- I'm seeing his stockbroker.
- One second.
...residing at 22, Bourdonnais Street,
does hereby declare...
Ask Bachelet for the financial report.
...does hereby declare
that after classical music studies
at the Paris Conservatory,
where I won first prize in Harmony,
continued my career as a composer,
at which time I met
Marguerite Chauffournier...
Two "F's".
also known as Jenny Lamour. L-A-M-O-U-R.
What is it?
Mr Lamoriciére,
director of Brignon Wireworks.
An unsolicited testimony.
"...Jenny Lamour, whom I wed...
"in spite of opposition from my parents,
"disgusted by her shocking past."
- That's not true.
- That's what you said.
You don't understand. My father's a
professor.
And your wife had premarital affairs.
I'm summarising.
"L was disturbed by the attentions
being paid to her by a certain Brignon,
"but I refuse to say
if my jealousy was justified or not."
I said that?
You said, "None of your business.
It's personal."
"So on Wednesday, December 2, 1946,
"I went to confront him
at the Lapérouse restaurant.
"L admit that on this occasion I att*cked him
-"with blatant death threats."
- That's not true.
Not again. You admit to the words you used.
They're death threats. I can't help it.
New paragraph.
"The night of the crime, I went to the Eden,
where I spent the evening.
"Question: You were seen
at the beginning and the end of the show.
"Where were you in between?
"Answer..."
No answer.
We must have changed the subject.
So what do we put?
You heard the inspector. Answer him.
Where were you during intermission?
- Up in the balcony.
- What for?
What for?
- To hear the acoustics.
- At intermission? Funny idea.
No, I went up for the end of the first half.
For the quartet.
- What do you think of Nitram's songs?
- Pretty feeble.
- He didn't sing, he was sick that night.
- I heard him on the radio the night before.
No, that's not possible.
During the second half of the show,
did you notice anything unusual?
Yes, now that you mention it.
The magician had a problem with his casket.
The audience didn't notice, but I did.
- When did that happen?
- About 30 minutes after the intermission.
- Well?
- Too early to tell.
I think you're handling it wrong.
Let me. If it's him, I'll get him.
Then forget I said anything.
that call was for you.
Your boy's entrance exams?
He failed?
In geometry.
The imbecile.
And I already bought his Meccano set.
I'll give it to him anyway. For Christmas.
"Auguste," he says to me, "I'll give you
"but you'll also play during cocktails."
I said, "Sir, I've never had the honour
of singing in your establishment.
"But I would rather give up
that chance right now."
I let him have it, right on the jaw.
- Madeleine, do you have Valton's address?
- You, too? A policeman just asked for it.
- Already?
- Hello. Yes, I'll connect you.
Wait. He's not there.
He won't be home for dinner.
- So?
- So he's at the Medrano circus.
That's impossible,
they are in Africa for 15 days.
- He's on at 10:30.
- Just when we go on at the Hermitage.
- What is it?
- Emergency errand.
So tell me, are you happy? Did you hear?
- Not a thing.
- You again?
- Is that a reproach?
- Why are you here?
To see you.
This isn't a barn.
I wasn't sleepy, so I came to chat.
ls Mr Martineau here?
He's out. Like you. Mind if I change?
- Not at my age.
- Well, I mind.
So turn around.
- In your line, it doesn't matter.
- Well, we all have our ways.
Such as a man doesn't talk
to a lady with his hat on.
You're mad and you think I'm mad at you.
I'd prefer to have nothing to do with you.
I can't help it. I'm interested in Brignon
and he was interested in you.
Well, I had no interest in Brignon.
You're wasting your time.
On that we disagree.
I'm sure you could help me if you wanted to.
Sure. I could sign a notarised confession.
"I k*lled Brignon." ls that it?
You didn't do it, you had no motive,
but you know who k*lled him.
Me?
Admitting it would mean
you were there that night.
- That's not true.
- Brignon wasn't your lover?
How dare you say that.
Please. He wouldn't have been the first.
Don't play the saint.
I know your kind. You're ambitious.
Ambitious? What's that supposed to mean?
You poor man.
I was born in the dead of winter
in a two-room flat.
Six of us lived there for twelve years.
Twelve years of the landlord
yelling for the rent.
Stomach-aches because of bad meat.
Washing ourselves in the sink.
It took my father six years
to die in the back room.
Is wanting to leave that 'ambitious'?
Of course.
My father lived in a château
on a huge estate.
He was a flunky.
He was paid to clean up other people's filth.
I took over from him.
Come on, I promise
your Maurice won't hear of this.
What did you see at Brignon's that night?
Consider me a friend.
We were made to get along.
I doubt it. My father was a labourer.
He didn't like police either.
What did the police ever do to you?
And you, what about the folks you hound?
The ones you hand over
for the judges to k*ll?
Society.
The gentleman wants to protect society.
You know Brignon was a dirty old pig.
And you stalk the poor jerk who k*lled him.
And who was right to k*ll him.
A fine profession.
Yes, it's a dirty job.
But look at this.
"Inspector Février, k*lled in the line of
duty."
Nice, isn't it? It sounds good.
We called him the Bearded Baby
because he was a boy
who always needed a shave.
He's dead. The cashier is dead.
But Paulo is doing well.
Go on, criticise the police.
It's best not to associate with them.
They're not respectable.
But if you get m*rder*d,
you'll be glad we're there.
Are you sure nobody came to see Valton?
I already told you, no.
He's coming off now.
There was a policeman in the street
who asked me about you.
- What did he ask?
- Not much.
If you were at the Eden the 8th. I said, yes.
Even told him
that I had told you about the casket.
I mentioned it to you first.
- You did?
- Of course.
I could have sworn... ls it serious?
- Rather.
- I can explain...
No, thanks, you've done enough.
You're positive?
You haven't seen him all evening?
Where can he be?
I think we've tried everywhere.
- What time is it?
- Almost 3:00.
Tell me where he could have gone.
What are you two hiding?
Nothing. If I were you, I'd be more
sympathetic.
He's not himself.
What's going on?
You're soaked.
You'll catch your death of cold.
That's the best thing
that could happen to me now.
A good cold. No more Maurice.
That would teach those wretches.
- He's been drinking.
- Yes, so?
Mind your own business.
I drank, but I'm not drunk.
I can't even get drunk. It's all over.
What am I looking for? My passport.
Somebody stole my passport.
I'm done for. Done for.
Maurice, calm down. Take it easy.
Jenny will find your passport.
Come lie down.
Help me.
That Valton is such a fool.
- Of course he is.
- You say that,
but you don't know.
You can explain tomorrow.
- Tomorrow.
- Yes, come on.
It's nice here. It's dark.
Get a hot water bottle. His feet are frozen.
- Will you pack my bag?
- You bag? What for?
I won't wait to be picked up.
I'm not that drunk.
I'll get the 5:00 a.m. train to Marseilles.
You'll join me there. Don't tell anyone.
I'm sick. I'm so sick.
Listen, Dora, enough is enough.
I want to know the truth.
What's he afraid of?
All right. It's time you knew.
He went to Brignon's the night of the crime.
What?
He wanted to k*ll him or you both,
I don't know.
But someone b*at him to it.
Couldn't you have told me earlier?
I promised him I wouldn't.
Thanks for the trust.
- What are you doing?
- Getting ready to turn myself in.
- You're insane.
- They can't arrest Maurice.
We're not there yet.
No use fighting it. Look at the state he's in.
- Jenny, what is it?
- Nothing, darling.
Calm yourself.
Don't forget my bag.
See, baby? It's all ready. Look.
You're sweet. I can count on you.
Of course, you can count on me.
Will you explain everything to him?
Try to ease his pain.
- You can't go.
- Move.
Please, don't go.
You can still do this if things go bad.
- But Maurice...
- Exactly, he can't know.
If you go, they'll tell him everything.
Give it time.
They may get thrown off the scent.
I'm sure they've lost the trail.
Where's your friend?
He'll be here. I'll point him out to you.
Why did he wait so long?
He's a troublemaker.
Always involved in strikes and things.
Why did you come?
I'm not afraid. I respect the police.
We need more of your kind.
- How about the reward?
- Wait a minute.
-It all depends on results.
- But I'm telling you...
Here he comes.
- Are you Lefort?
- Yes. What if I am?
- Antoine, I'm off.
- Not staying, Chief?
I have to get seats for midnight mass
at Notre Dame. The children like it.
Fat chance. Nights like this are sold out.
I'll get standing room.
Sure, behind a column.
Thought it over? It's now or never.
What do you want me to say?
I was home all night developing.
Developing...
A taxi picked up a blonde at 11:00 p.m.
and took her to Bourdonnais Street.
I'm not the only blonde around here.
But the others didn't know Brignon
or were friends of the Martineaus.
It gives your house a bad name.
- It's a coincidence.
- Don't bet on it.
What were you doing there?
Were you Brignon's mistress
or merry Maurice's?
Why not both at once?
- That would explain a few things.
- Think so?
No, you're a no-nonsense lady.
Not the kind for a fling.
But you were there.
Fine.
Come with me.
They're waiting for us.
Sit down there.
Your ID.
Now, my friend, be careful. This is serious.
The blonde you picked up
on December 8 at 11:45 p.m. is here.
Do you recognise her?
Step up. They won't bite.
Are you afraid of women?
Do you have any others?
She's not in this batch.
Seriously?
Can I go now?
Tell me,
your licence dates from 1910.
You've been a cab driver for 40 years now.
What with your bad eyes...
My eyes are still good.
But if you can't recognise your fares,
then, one rainy night,
you may end up running one over.
If anything was to happen,
I'd feel responsible.
I can't identify someone at random.
You can tell that to your wife and three
children.
but we can't b*at them.
Her?
I think we can get a deposition now.
Picard, clear the room.
Come on, ladies.
Antoine, are you working
on a chap named Martineau?
Yes, why?
- Might he be in cahoots with Paulo?
- No, not his style.
Paulo used Martineau's car for his robbery.
We've just identified it.
Interested?
And how.
- Where's Paulo?
- In the squad room.
- What about my ID?
- Ask Antoine.
Well?
You won't answer? I'll teach you manners.
I told you, I got nothing to say.
Can I have a word with your client?
You can have fifty, but if you get
anything out of it.
You never know.
Where did you steel the car?
I didn't steel it. What do you take me for?
Someone lent it to me.
Who?
- What man?
- A friend. A good friend.
What friend?
Jules who?
Big Jules. They call him Julot.
Watch it. I don't have his patience.
- You might have an accident.
-I'm co-operating.
Where does he live, this good friend of
yours?
- I met him in a bar.
- Which bar?
A hole. Near République.
Which street?
Blast. It's on the tip of my tongue.
It's got a bend in it.
I forget. You've given me
the works.
Am I interrupting?
It's for the wreath for the Bearded Baby.
Well, boys.
He's all yours.
Going out?
Of course. I'm taking grandmother
her Christmas present.
- It may snow.
- I'll take a taxi.
Please don't leave me alone.
Come with me.
I can't. I don't dare. Everyone stares at me.
Poor Maurice. Get a hold of yourself.
You didn't do anything. They can't hurt you.
You're not in my position.
Maurice, listen to me.
You have no reason to worry.
Whatever happens, you'll be fine.
I promise you that.
The only thing that can save me
is if they find who did it.
Don't you think so?
- Maybe.
- You won't be long?
I'll be back by 8:00, you'll see.
With lots of surprises.
We'll still celebrate Christmas Eve.
We going wait much longer?
When I covered the Le Mans affair,
I once waited twelve hours.
- They interrogated him for three hours.
- Here he is.
Anything new?
How long's this going last?
Be a sport.
See Antoine for the Brignon case.
- He kicked me out.
- Good.
We've known each other twenty years.
Give us something.
- Here's another one.
- Make way.
Yes, it's snowing.
Luckily you have your cousin's car.
Same to you. Merry Christmas.
But we're making headway, Your Honour.
- You maintain your story?
- I told you I wasn't there.
I told you I wasn't there.
I wasn't there, I tell you.
I wasn't there.
He couldn't have picked me up.
- You were seen at the bank.
- He told you he wasn't there.
- Jerk.
-I'm leaving.
Have a snack sent up.
Some Christmas Eve.
I'd stay with you, but I got the turkey.
Readers could care less who k*lled Brignon.
Especially on Christmas Day.
I wrote for one of Brignon's papers.
Cheap swindler.
It's Father Christmas
What happened to you?
Children, my bicycle hit a snowdrift.
Obviously.
What's up? Did I miss anything?
Young man,
when I covered the Landru case...
Dietrich, tell them to quiet down.
Shut the hell up out there.
So we agree.
That night, you left home at 9:00.
You got to the Eden at 9:15.
You stayed till 11:30
and you came home at 12:15.
- That's right.
- Fifteen minutes one way, 45 back.
I told you, I dropped by a bar.
- The owner doesn't remember you.
- He sees so many faces.
At 12:15 you put your car in the garage?
- Naturally.
- It hadn't been stolen yet?
- Stolen?
- Was it stolen or not?
Why didn't you report the theft?
- That's easy.
- Good.
Because...
It's no use. You never find them again.
Don't say that, Mr Martineau.
That's not nice.
Look outside. There are about twenty cars
waiting for their owners.
And what's more, we found yours.
- Aren't you grateful?
- Sure, I'm real glad.
You don't seem very pleased.
You here, Papa?
- What are you doing here?
- I came for you. I'm hungry.
It's snowing. We built a snowman.
Sit there and keep quiet.
- Where was your car stolen?
- I don't know any more.
My head's spinning. It must be the cold.
Put some coal in the stove.
It's freezing in here.
We're out of coal.
You remember your licence plate number?
Strange.
You remember the plate number of your car,
but not where it was stolen.
Wait. I think it was parked outside the Eden.
You see? I knew you could do it.
On the 8th?
- The night of the m*rder.
- Perhaps.
That explains everything.
That's why it took 45 minutes to get home.
- You didn't have your car.
- Of course.
But there's one thing
that doesn't make sense.
Why did you have to go to your garage?
You take us for a bunch of idiots?
You'll change your tune.
Someone's waiting for me, too.
- On your feet.
- What?
Take off your tie.
- What for?
- Don't worry about it.
We ask the questions here,
we don't answer them.
Remove your shoe laces.
- Empty your pockets.
- Good work, boys.
I see things are moving along.
Say what you will,
but compared to the Bonnot g*ng,
this is tiny.
Teeny-weeny.
You left the Eden
and went to the Villa St-Marceaux.
Don't be thick. You know we'll get you.
Say yes and we'll call it a night.
I'm cold.
You'll get this
when you tell us you were there.
But I wasn't there.
Stop all this. I've had enough.
If I don't go, the children will be disappointed.
Shall I take your boy?
- Do you mind?
- Not at all. Poor little chap.
Get up, Son.
You're going to see the manger.
- With you?
- No, with the Chief.
- Behave yourself.
- See you later.
Come along.
Who said you could sit? On your feet.
Answer. Were you there or not?
Perfect.
Move over.
Let's take it from the top.
You left home when?
You can k*ll me. I won't say another word.
Yes, I was there to k*ll him
but he was already dead. Understand?
Dead? Of course, we get it. He was dead.
Let's get all this down in writing.
You'll feel better.
Let's go.
Leave the man alone.
We'll tell you when we know something.
Are you a witness, too, lady?
It won't be long now.
You'll make it in time for the oysters.
I wasn't supposed to be celebrating.
Some luck.
The look on my governor's face.
"I don't care about your Christmas,"
he said.
"You're the youngest.
You're on duty till 2:00 a.m."
You should have seen his face
when they came for me.
"I hereby swear the foregoing to be
true..."
I'm amazed someone of your intelligence
could take us for such idiots.
- But he was already dead.
- Don't repeat yourself.
Sign here.
You want me to tell you what happened?
You knew your wife was meeting Brignon.
You surprised them and sh*t him.
It's that simple.
Jenny was in Enghien that night.
Says she.
- Do you believe in Santa Claus, too?
- swine.
Poitevin, do you know Jenny Lamour?
- I told you I did. You wrote it down.
- Never mind.
- How do you know her?
- I take tickets at the Enghien station.
When did you see her last?
December 8. There was just her
and a soldier on the 11:07.
- You see now?
- It can't be.
- We don't make things up.
- She's always lied to me.
You surprised her there
and you avenged your honour.
You're on the right track.
- It was a crime of passion.
- Half the jury is like you.
But they don't dare do it.
Did you have a g*n?
- Where is it?
- At home.
- Not in the river?
- No, why?
Let's go.
It's illegal. If the Chief hears...
Don't worry. We'll be back before him.
I don't approve. Note my disapproval.
Lock him up.
This way.
Wait here. On your feet.
I don't want to see anyone ever again.
No one. That's perfect.
- Where are you going?
- To pick berries.
You won't be here long.
You'll have a bigger cell at the prison.
Hey, new boy, what are you in for?
Be polite. Answer me.
He k*lled his wife's lover.
Merry Christmas.
What do you want?
What is this? You've no right.
Where's Maurice?
Relax. He's fine where he is.
We'd be better off home in bed.
Not talkative, are you?
You must feel miserable.
I know your kind.
You're a pushover. The sentimental type.
You shouldn't get so attached.
Is your wife pretty, at least?
You won't be seeing her for a while
and perhaps she doesn't want to see you.
Life's no fun, that's for sure.
- You'll pay for this.
- Calm down. None of that now.
My underwear interest you?
- Where's the g*n?
- What g*n?
You hear the bells?
If you want to forgive your wife,
now's the time.
"Hark, the herald angels sing."
This reminds me of my first communion.
I think I'll have a cigarette.
- Got it.
- Let's see.
- Blast.
- What is it?
It's for you.
It's me. What?
I'm on my way.
- What is it?
- Martineau. A su1c1de.
- Dead?
- Not yet.
Please. I have to see him.
Take me with you. It's all my fault.
It certainly is. We're taking you, all right.
It wasn't him. It was me, me alone.
I hit him with the bottle and he fell.
- And then?
- I ran out.
You couldn't say something sooner?
Dear God, let us arrive in time.
Let me see him once more.
You should've thought
of your Maurice sooner, you fool.
Not too faint?
- I won't die?
- Out of the question.
But I felt so good, so far away.
Why did you do that?
My baby. My poor little baby.
Say you forgive me
before they take me away.
Don't think badly of me when I'm gone.
Answer me, baby.
You see? I didn't cheat on you.
No one else has the right to hold me tight.
Hold me tight, love.
The game's up, girl.
Your whole street is in jail.
- You arrested Jenny?
- She confessed.
She's lying. I k*lled Brignon.
I hit him with a bottle of champagne...
And he d*ed of a b*llet in the heart.
-Isn't that odd?
- What did you say?
I'm fed up with your games.
Neither of them k*lled Brignon.
But they were both there. And so were you.
A real surprise party.
Why?
Jenny had forgotten her fox fur.
I thought she'd left other clues.
So you erased the fingerprints? Nice work.
You threw us off the track
and Jenny may pay for it.
Don't say that, sir. Save her.
You really care for your friend.
- For better or worse, I love her.
- I know.
I'll try to get her out of this
because I think I know
who the real culprit is.
Don't thank me. I'm just doing my job.
Besides, I have to admit,
I've taken a liking to you,
Because I have to say, you're just my type.
When it comes to women,
we'll never have a chance.
If that man dies,
Antoine's in for it.
He's used to it.
- So, you hit a snag?
- We'll see.
Say, you stubborn ox, you're hiding things.
You stole that car at Villa St-Marceaux.
Not on your life. Villa St-Marceaux.
That's a good one.
Why so defensive, then?
Here or there, what's the difference?
I was tipped off. So talk.
Cat got your tongue?
Lacoste, go and talk to Quellec.
He's having a family get-together.
See if the cashier and Brignon
weren't k*lled with the same g*n.
On the double. And call me.
I'm calm.
You're not laying that one on me.
It's not true.
Relax, Paulo.
We'll know everything in ten minutes.
Unless you want to spill it now.
You're already in pretty deep.
Rotten luck. If I'd only known.
Very nice, Antoine. Really.
Some deputy.
I turn my back and everything unravels.
Be with you in a minute, Chief.
After one more word with this gentleman.
So, Paulo?
What do you expect?
The door was open. I went in.
You never know.
It could have been my lucky day.
Then I see Brignon, all bloody,
screaming for help.
I was nervous. I pulled the trigger.
Sure, it was a sloppy job, but I was
nervous.
Poor fool.
I spoke too soon, Antoine.
Anyone can make a mistake.
I had it wrong all month. A sordid business.
-It usually is.
- You get excited, all geared up...
You expect a good case...
And it boils down to the usual.
Nothing.
- You've been living it up.
- In a funny way, yes.
- Hurt yourself?
- Just some broken glass.
- That's good luck.
- That's what they say.
Mrs Beauchamp,
we don't want to be disturbed.
I understand. We'll let you sleep.
See the Christmas I had ready for you.
I'll take care of you. You'll forget everything.
I'll try.
Blasted caretaker.
You again.
I don't know what this is worth,
but quit leaving it lying around.
Thanks, anyway.
- Won't you come in?
- No, someone's waiting.
It's been a pleasure.
Good riddance.
Knowing I won't see him again,
I feel better already.
What?
Don't forget, come by tomorrow.
What, again?
It's just for a statement.
Come on. We'll have ourselves
that bite after all.
Merry Christmas.
While in every home,
festivities are under way to celebrate
the eve so dear to our childhood,
in a grim, hostile office
of the Quai des Orfévres,
a man wages a desperate battle
to save his skin.
But I wasn't there.
Get off my back. I've had enough.
It is a fight to the bitter end.
Don't worry about it.
We ask the questions here,
we don't answer them.
A crime was committed
and society's repression machine
is moving forward.
Nothing can stop it now.
You take us for a bunch of idiots?
You'll change your tune.
Someone's waiting for me, too.
On your feet.
Enough. Shut up. I won't say another word.
The noose tightens.
The man is hounded, harassed,
he will lose his footing.
ls he innocent? ls he guilty?
- It was a crime of passion.
- Half the jury is like you.
But they don't dare do it.
For the first time, you'll follow a real
police investigation from start to finish.
A cynical, brutal investigation,
allowing no truce or respite
to those targeted by it
and to those conducting it.
Society has to protect itself.
Cost is no object here.
But no one looks at the tab,
and this one will cost.
Chief Inspector Antoine has been instructed
to shed some light
on a resounding affair
that takes place in the music hall milieu...
...embroiling composer Maurice Martineau,
singer Jenny Lamour,
Dora, an art photographer...
You don't look like a m*rder*r,
that's for sure.
...Brignon, a businessman...
Delicious. Simply delicious.
...Emile, a cab driver...
I am a good citizen.
because the less I see of coppers,
the better I behave.
“Albert, an ex-convict...
I'm not in the clink yet.
“Péquerette, an usherette.
I could have testified. I know a few facts.
Don't play the saint.
I know your kind. You're ambitious.
So what? Under Louis XV,
I'd have been Madame de Pompadour.
I'd have heated up their tights.
- Weren't you pretty close to Brignon?
- Me?
Brignon? Why would you say that?
I let him have it, right on the jaw.
Do you believe in Santa Claus, too?
- Where are you going?
- To pick berries.
Quai des Orfèvres (1947)
Moderator: Maskath3
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