Original subtitles

LAST KNOWN ADDRESS

Leonetti here.

No, but I have let Fouche and Bernier know.

It's dawn, I'm going home for a nap. I'm tired.

I'll stop by later this morning.

Yes, I'll call you tomorrow.

Please help me...

I've had enough. He's blind drunk.

Got your papers?

Papers... papers... Look, it's all here.

- Did you say I was drunk? - You do not know what you're saying.

What do you mean?

I'm not drunk, I only had one.

- I'm quite sober, as a judge! - Sorry, but I'll have to take him in.

- Of course. - Yes, put him in jail, it'll do him good.

Put me in jail?!

Give me my--

- It's nothing, just a scratch. - He's really stupid.

I'll get you a taxi,

and he can go by police car for a medical examination.

You'll have to give evidence.

Whatever you want, I'll tell the judge you saved my life.

I'm not asking for that much!

Do you have any idea who I am, Mr. Plod?

My name's Faylac.

Henri De Faylac, son of the lawyer Philipe De Faylac.

Don't you know what influence my father has, Mr. Piglet?

A doctor will check your blood alcohol,

and you can do nothing about that!

Very funny!

No, I want to hear your version of the De Faylac incident.

Faylac?

Yes, Henri De Faylac.

You arrested him 2 months ago for driving under the influence.

Ah, yes,

driving like a madman in the Bois de Boulogne with a girl who was scared to death.

He says he was driving a bit fast,

but you pushed his car against the kerb, and might have killed him.

Then you insulted him, and when he protested

at such aggressive behaviour

in front of a woman, you hit him several times against the bonnet.

The policeman on duty can testify he was barely able to stand. He was blind drunk!

He just said he was unsteady because of his injured head.

Well, in that case the doctor's report should suffice.

His father had him released in an hour.

An eminent doctor reports...

no evidence of inebriation.

He noted, however, wounds and bruises

that were caused by the blows that you inflicted.

Look... he was drunk as a skunk!

He fell onto the car door, and that caused his injuries.

I would like to believe you...

but sadly we can't prove it.

Not so fast,

there was a witness, Thelma someone-or-other.

She saw it all!

She even said that I saved her life by stopping the car!

- Call her to testify! - She has already made a statement.

Really?

What did she say?

She confirmed Faylac's version —

spent the afternoon with him, drank nothing...

She ran away when she saw you mistreat him.

She was afraid of being hit, too. You appeared out of control.

And so on.

She informed his father. That's how he was able to pick him up so quickly.

She's Henri's fiancée.

Did you know that?

She wasn't acting like a fiancée.

You know how women are.

And what about my record at this nick?

De Faylac senior has already used it against you in a report

I would describe as very clever.

A boy of 19, shot in the street.

- He was shooting people! - Okay, but he was only 19.

There's also the Rubelle incident. A stabbing, I believe?

Okay, I understand.

De Faylac can file a complaint.

- I assure you I know to defend myself. - Marceau, we would rather avoid that!

With people like that, their version would attract great publicity.

The press would rather discredit us.

They love the slightest whiff of police brutality.

If I understand correctly, I lose the right to defend myself, huh?

Until things blow over, you'll have to leave Serious Crime...

for the local police.

But you keep the same salary.

Or you can take sick leave.

Arnold, tell me something.

De Faylac junior's version

against my word of honor.

Who do you really believe?

Is it such a painful question?

In his father's report there is a terrible thing...

something so awful that it worries me deeply.

You'd better tell me the worst!

He talks about the accident where you lost your wife and daughter.

He implies you have become sensitized to the speed of the cars.

You have become a zealot.

He claimed these to be aggravating circumstances, considering your profession.

He was asking for various medical examinations to assess your mental state.

You understand that we had to...

make a deal with him.

In his complaint, Mr. De Faylac concludes by asking,

how can a cop,

using his gun and his fists,

even merit a place in our society?

Mr. Policeman! Someone has stolen my birds.

My fabulous pigeons, sir!

Two were Capuchin pigeons.

They've been stolen, sir!

- Where from? - Their cage.

Hanging in the patio.

Someone's stolen them. I'm sure!

- Maybe they were carrier pigeons-- - No, sir!

They were show pigeons.

Please find them.

I have no time for chasing pigeons!

- You're a cop. - We have a lot to do.

We are not here for that!

Go home.

Hey, boy!

Come here.

- Has someone stolen your pigeons? - Yes, sir.

- How many? - Four.

Tell me more.

What sort of pigeons?

A pair and two others.

What color?

White, with black heads.

They have feather tufts, around the head.

They are Capuchin pigeons.

They are very rare, sir!

Right.

There they are, those are my pigeons!

- Are you sure? - Yes, sir.

Okay...

read it and sign.

You were nicking mopeds, and switched to pigeons. Get a lawyer and say you're reforming yourself.

Yes, Section 54.

Does Marceau Leonetti work there?

That's me.

Hello, I'm Frank. Do you recognize me?

Big Frank? I am honored!

Do leave off!

Anyway... I hear you've lived the quiet life for 6 months.

Yes, indeed, the life of poet.

I can show you some action.

We have created a special service,

and I'm the boss.

- I'm very happy for you. - Thanks,

I know that you, for one, really mean it.

Listen,

we deal with certain inquiries to help out...

the Flying Squad and Vice.

Were dealing with perverts operating in cinemas.

Okay, but why tell me all this?

I'm stationed here until further notice.

My department is working with all local stations.

In your area there are some half a dozen cinemas that are used by certain "little angels".

We will send someone with a car,

and you'll bring chummy here.

Marceau,

I know it's a chore, but...

Don't apologize, it's just another job.

Usually afternoons.

Your assistant will come this week with instructions.

- Okay, I'll do what I can. - Ciao.

What a shitty job!

You get paid to say this rubbish!

Bastards!

Go on! Search the superintendent!

They've taken my tie!

You would've taken my shoelaces if I had any!

- Can't someone shut this guy up? - Look who's talking!

Say something! You know that I haven't done anything!

It's true...

I didn't do anything.

I was just watching a film.

I bought my ticket. The rest is bollocks!

Bollocks to it...

I don't care.

It looks a bit ancient.

Yes.

- Marceau Leonetti? - That's me.

I come from Frank Lambert...

head of the Special Service.

And I bring this to you.

- Delighted, Miss Dumas. - Same here, sir.

- You come from Lyon? - Yes.

Have you ever done this kind of work?

No... but I've given it a lot of thought.

I understand.

Aren't these nice works of art?

You like this?

I like shy girls.

Fair enough.

If you scream, I'll knock you out!

What the...?

Today for the first time...

the sex-maniacs had equipment.

Objects.

Every day is worse than the last.

I wonder if...

- Hello. - Jeanne, is that you?

Hi, Dad! Where are you?

I'm calling from home, in Lyon. How are you?

- I'm fine... - What are you doing at work?

Right now... I'm doing surveys.

I-it's exciting, you know?

Surveys on youth?

Yes, on youths...

I visit youth centers.

Look.

Leonetti and that girl Dumas are bringing three more.

Leonetti... he's not the only one who works here!

I mention him because everyone maligned him without knowing him.

Where there's smoke...

Do me a report for the week.

- Good day. - Good day.

- Hello, Miss Dumas. - Hello.

Look here...

You and Marceau make a good team.

- It's going well? - Yes, fine.

Not too hard?

Hard? Why? Nothing to do but sit and wait.

I don't wish to pry, but why choose this job?

See you tomorrow.

Chasing girls, my lords?

- Shut up, you. - No, I won't shut up.

Two against a defenseless woman... Bunch of spastics!

And with that face you sissy!

I'd nick you if I was a copper!

Good morning.

Empty-handed, Leonetti?

Yes, I will sign the sheet.

Take this Leonetti,

I have something for you.

This is an arrest warrant for one "Martin".

Roger Martin.

Last known address, Cité de la Glacière.

- District 13. - Not my area.

He's no longer there, anyway.

So where is he?

He moved out.

His neighbours will tell you.

Surely you can tell me more.

- No. - What has he done?

Nothing.

But the judge has called him to testify.

You have his name

and last known address.

It's a simple job,

don't make it complicated.

Hang on, we have no car.

Keep a note of your expenses.

But...

what about me?

- What do I do? - You've got your team. Stay with it.

He said we could do this work together.

Hey, Frank!

- Hello. - We're doing a real investigation!

- Who commissioned it? - Gravel.

Yes, I wanted to talk to you about it.

Is Martin not the guy we've been after for years, over the Soramon case?

Ah, it's possible, yes.

Why are you handling something so important?

No big deal.

They know it's impossible in 8 days to find

someone they've hunted for 5 years.

So why are we going?

I'm explaining, sweetheart.

It's a legal matter.

It's called a Rogatory Commission.

You have to send it to the judge in writing.

If I remember correctly,

I think Allister was handling this case.

Allister is a great guy.

He won't refuse you a few tips.

On this manor, nobody knows anybody, and people move constantly.

It is hellish.

During the investigation, every time we come, there's a removal lorry.

Which side of the building were Martin's windows?

That side,

apartment 12A for 18 months.

And for the last 5 years we don't know where he's come from or gone to.

12th floor, the corner window.

Perhaps he has false papers.

There's no point.

Every bum in here is called Martin!

What exactly does he look like?

We have never seen him.

How come?

Never?

I've got a statement,

according to which, that night he was in his office.

He heard a shot

and saw Soramon running from the office of his partner Michel Morei.

Who gave you this statement?!

One day we received an anonymous call,

no doubt someone who he confided in.

We learned he worked as an accountant in the Soramon-Morei company.

Working late, perhaps double checking the figures.

When we learned he was living here, he was already gone.

He could be dead, Mr. Allister.

I assure you there is nothing more conspicuous nor more talkative, than a corpse.

He's hidden, it's that simple.

He'd like to forget he saw Soramon running away, but he can't.

He saw what he saw!

He must be scared.

If he's that afraid...

he might have gone abroad.

It's possible, but he could also be just 3 streets away.

In Paris, the crowd protects you.

The poor guy must be living like a hunted animal.

I think it's really sad.

If you knew Soramon, you wouldn't feel that way.

He has blood on his hands. Always has.

If we don't nail him on this case...

we never will.

Unfortunately he's still young.

Can the trial be postponed?

Postponed!

I can see you're green.

Remember, he's got the best lawyers.

A lawyer's not God almighty!

It depends.

What's your hope?

Find Martin in 5 days?

You know, on this case, we're more like delivery boys.

Then we go back to the cinema.

The cinema?

Yeah, nicking perverts.

If we can help you out of this...

Out of what?

Come on, let's take a look.

Nice to meet you. Thank you. Goodbye.

I hope he falls on his face.

Why?

Think about it...

how would we look, if he and the girl —

tasty, huh? —,

if they found Martin?

You do not know him.

Sure, he's a walking contradiction.

But he'd never make mugs of his friends.

Do you think he knows it comes from me?

It's impossible.

I didn't even talk to him directly. He could have thought we're doing him a favour.

I used my assistant and he's been...

rather nasty to him.

Keep me posted.

Hello, Arnold. You asked for me?

I also have news for you.

Have you seen all this palaver?

SORAMON TO BE ACQUITTED

AFTER 5 YEARS SORAMON IS LAUGHING.

KEY WITNESS IN SORAMON CASE DIES OF PERITONITIS

Bad luck, you might say. But this is a catastrophe.

Let's not exaggerate, we have his written statement.

Exactly, "written".

You know the jury only believes the testimony of a living man.

They won't convict on what a dead man wrote.

That Martin apparently saw...

Soramon leave the victim's office after the shot.

You must be joking! It's 8 days before the trial,

and you ring me to talk about this nowhere-to-be-found witness?

He's the only real evidence the prosecution has.

I agree,

but we've been looking for Martin for 5 years.

Yes, I know.

That's why I put Leonetti on this case.

Leonetti?

Don't we have enough problems with the press?

I have taken precautions...

they all think he's still on the sideline.

Do you...

honestly think he has the slightest chance?

His predecessors are stale...

He...

is fresh.

Do you think you'll find Martin's stuff?

No, just the list.

Sorry I can't be more help.

What about the saleroom?

As we have the date of sale.

Right.

- Where was the furniture sold? - On Drouot Street.

I've been asked for a lot of things, but never that list.

- Well, thanks. - You're welcome.

One day, two of his friends came,

thinking he lived here.

Two friends?

- Did you see them? - No, my brother Jo saw them.

He mentioned it, because he found it funny

they thought he lived in a warehouse.

Can we talk to your brother?

Fine by me,

just don't make him angry.

Why would he tell them he was living here,

if they're friends of his?

I thought it was very fishy.

How old were they?

I couldn't say how old they were, but they looked like bullies.

Especially the tallest.

I love bullies!

And I couldn't help staring at his ear,

because he had a cut here.

Like he'd been in a punch-up.

You understand what I mean?

Yes, perfectly, and...

they've not been back?

No, I only saw them once.

Have you told any other policemen?

No, Miss, I have not had the chance.

I must tell you, my family don't tend to give information to coppers.

Only to coppers like you.

"A nightstand, a double bed, a round table in cherry wood,

"four leather chairs, a toddlers' bed in maple, a worn leather armchair--"

- Did you say "a toddlers' bed"? - Yes.

"A toddler's bed in maple."

Then there was a child.

A toddlers' bed in the list doesn't necessarily mean a child in that apartment.

I don't reckon they'd keep an old cot lying around.

So, if there's a kid, there's a woman?

Not necessarily. Come with me.

- You're leaving? - Yes.

- And the sandwiches? - Help yourself.

- Who clears all this up? - You, mate.

Thank you.

Hey, Marceau,

- are you here for the same thing? - Yes, I think so.

- Ms. Dumas, my assistant. - Charmed.

The Flying Squad elite.

We've not made any great progress.

For what it worth, Soramon has other men looking for him.

- Thanks! - If you want to swap,

- I'll stick with her, and you have my men. - Impossible, she's on my call-sheet.

You'd be disappointed.

Excuse me, are you the caretaker?

- Yes, why? - Police.

Police?! Nothing to do with Martin, I hope.

- Precisely. - Are you here to bother the tenants?

They've been questioned many times.

Put yourself in their place.

No, we want to talk with the caretaker.

How long have you been here?

One year.

How did you find this job?

I answered an ad... from the Royal Haussmann company.

You know, the estate managers.

Not the police again!

They are unbelievable!

They don't even know what they're looking for!

What's going on?

Inspector Leonetti. My assistant, Ms. Dumas.

- Miss. - Sir.

I have answered so many questions about my caretakers.

I assume you're here about that yet again.

Exactly so.

And your colleagues have been very rude to my secretary.

- Right? - Yes.

One of them had a cut on his ear?

Yes, sir, here.

And...

small eyes, close together.

He was very unpleasant.

- What did they want? - Lenoir's address.

A caretaker who worked at the Glacière Tower 5 years ago.

We would like to find him, too.

He is retired, sir.

We know nothing more.

I have an idea!

Let's look at the retirees' Pension Fund.

It's a good idea, but it's too late for today.

It's the second time we've heard of that man with the cut ear.

And not the last, I think.

Do you think Soramon's men are looking for Martin too?

You really are not as dumb as you look.

Thank you.

I understand why you solve all your cases.

Untrue. Not all of them.

Yeah, right.

I'm talking nonsense.

It's not long since I first set foot in a police station.

The first time was in Lyon.

The day my car was stolen.

A gift from my father.

I was furious.

I reported it.

Shortly after I was summoned to identify the thief in court.

He was 14.

A woman asked if I would drop the charges.

She was in charge of young offenders.

A wonderful woman.

We met again...

and then we became friends.

I envied her job.

What did you do before?

Not much.

I loafed around university for a while.

I had no financial problems... my father supported me.

The emptiness, you know.

Thanks to that woman, I threw myself into this profession.

They hired me straightaway.

It was easy, there weren't too many candidates.

So, I was sent here to acquire sufficient experience.

The other day you asked why I did this.

Now you know the story of my life.

Are not you disappointed?

At first, in the cinema!

But now it's great.

- Are we there? - Yep!

It's nice and quiet.

Well, I'm sleeping with Proust.

He won't keep you up for long!

I spend whole nights reading Proust. Don't you?

No, I do not.

Well, until 9 a.m. tomorrow at the Pension Fund...

- Okay? - Yes.

Let's hope Lenoir's still alive.

Yes, let's hope that!

- Good night. - Goodbye.

She lives on the 9th floor, 2nd on the left.

Jeanne Dumas.

Alone?

Yes, I asked her caretaker for Mr. Dumas.

He said, "There isn't one." Perfect.

- Who is it? - Mrs. Lenoir?

- Yes, why? - Police.

Sling your hook!

I'd like a single moment for myself.

What?

You'd better open, madam.

Is she also with the police?

I do not know how we can help.

I've already said my husband did not know every tenant.

- The police have been here lately? - Yes, two of them.

They really scared him.

Is your husband in?

He's asleep... there's not much left of him since he retired.

Flat 12A, you say?

A child?

How old?

We don't know, just that there was a child's bed.

Ah... yes, a little girl.

Yes, that's it.

And Martin, a widower, yes.

Never saw a woman there.

The girl was small...

7 or 8 years old.

Yes, always alone.

- Did she go to school? - Yes, definitely.

And her father, you must have spoken?

Absolutely. Absolutely.

What was he like? Young?

I don't remember,

I don't remember.

And you, madam,

you also took care of the property?

Not at all.

I never saw that girl.

Tell me, Mr. Lenoir,

when the others came,

did you mention the child?

No.

You reminded me about her.

I'd forgotten all about her... until you mentioned her.

And were you there when they moved?

It wasn't difficult,

I was always there.

Why try to conceal it?

Why don't you tell them about those things in the book?

This is a relic!

They broke the mould when they made him.

And as a thank you,

he ended up a window cleaner.

I always write down the new address of tenants who move.

He recorded everything... it's great.

But it's not here.

Hey, here's Roger Martin,

12A, left on January 6th, 1965.

New address: 21 Villiot Street.

Don't you realize? We have found him!

21 Villiot street, fantastic!

I'm old school, me...

one of the old guard.

Thank you, Mr. Lenoir.

Goodbye, madam.

If those two men return...

tell them the house is under surveillance.

That will stop them.

We can be there in an hour and hopefully the girl will open the door.

Calm down! The address is the warehouse.

What?!

Let's not get too excited. Come on!

An important lead... what?

No, I'm just saying it's worth pursuing.

I also wanted to ask how we organize the police station.

I was still doing mornings at the cinemas, but I can't anymore.

Only 6 days left to the trial!

They'll have to manage without you.

- Need any help? - No, hopefully no need for anyone else.

- Be sure to keep me posted. - Don't worry, I'll call.

- Bye. - Ciao.

There!

You couldn't recognize them on the street, but...

- You could have made a living as an artist. - Maybe.

- One or two? - Two.

One!

Very professional, you could make a living at that.

The police want information on a student and her father.

I was not here then. Perhaps you can remember them?

Yes, I remember, it's Marie Martin.

Could you possibly introduce us to

some of her classmates?

It will be very difficult...

our turnover is 25% every year.

Parents move all the time.

Because of high rent, noise, births, divorces.

The school renews itself completely every 4 years.

They'll have more luck with teachers than pupils.

I think, Miss Viteau.

She had this child from October '65 to June '66.

- Is she still teaching? - I do not know.

The Department of Education can tell you more.

One last question.

Have you had a visit from any other policemen?

- Not that I know of. - No, no.

Or friends?

- No. - No-one.

Thank you.

Thanks. Excuse us.

She was very smart for her age,

although often ill.

And did her father ever accompany her?

I think so.

He was rather nondescript,

but she was unforgettable.

She was not pretty, but very charming.

Did she have any friends?

No.

She was rather lonely. At playtime, she sat in a corner with a book.

She said she wanted to be an actress.

I remember that detail because I told my fiancé.

It was long ago.

What has become of her?

I'd love to know.

I'd love to tell you.

Soramon, visitor, booth 4.

Hello, been reading?

- Did you get the clothes? - Yes, thanks.

The police are looking for Martin again.

Makes sense.

Leonetti is in charge,

working with a woman.

In three days they discovered that Martin had a kid.

A little girl.

We never knew.

Tell Greg that...

as the pigs haven't found anything important, they should not move!

Understood?

Stick tight!

If things change,

we'll have to shuffle the cards!

There's just 4 days!

Only act in an emergency.

He believes the police don't have enough time.

4 days is not enough.

Maybe too long.

I do not know Martin.

I've already told the police.

And her daughter?

A girl of 7 or 8, rather pale.

Miss, all he kids round here are pale.

Who is your oldest customer in the building?

The Lorings...

and Miss Manccini.

A tart who hates children!

Hey! She's a good customer!

Unfortunately! I've never known such a witch!

I do not like the police.

But to see this woman locked up...

I'd be glad to help.

At last the police are doing something about this.

In this and many other buildings, dreadful things happen.

We have no doubt about it, miss.

I've seen 12 year-old brats...

taking off their trousers in front of me in the elevator.

I have seen young sluts of the same age,

hanging around with men in the corridors.

They insult me behind my back,

throw stink bombs through the kitchen window.

They've urinated on my door, and worst of all,

defecated on my doormat!

They are monsters!

Do you know the name of any of them?

Every single one.

Miss Manccini... we had a complaint from some time ago

regarding Marie Martin who lived at 12A.

Whose father the police have been after for years?

Possibly, but we're just interested in the child.

She was a very sickly baby.

Brazen, you mean!

Perhaps her father neglected her?

Well, I didn't know him, as I've often told the police.

He must have led a strange life.

And she was a chip off the old block!

I remember her ménage with Mr. Loring.

Was he a neighbour?

From 12E.

That little tart went to his flat until his wife got home.

Perhaps she was invited by both of them?

Your naivety baffles me, Miss.

What does the complaint say about that hussy?

Nothing specific, alas.

How much time does it take you to make these?

As much as it needs.

And you've always done this for a living?

Yes, I don't know how to do anything else.

- Darling, it's the police. - Good evening, madam.

- Sit down, please. - Thank you.

We've been having a friendly chat.

They're still the police.

No, we do not know Martin.

We work to a fixed schedule,

and see only those on the same schedule.

So we lived on the same floor without knowing it.

But...

Martin's daughter, little Marie,

she didn't have fixed schedules.

You must have come across her?

A little girl? That's news to me.

Did you know they had a kid?

Yes... I think I may have seen her. How old?

7 or 8 years.

It is possible, but there are so many children here.

If you had, you'd have told me.

Yes...

of course.

Did you buy this book?

Yes, I couldn't resist it.

Have you been to the house of David?

I forgot,

I'll go tomorrow.

Sure...

tomorrow.

I think Mrs. Loring is tired.

Sorry, I've had a busy day.

- Good evening, sir. - Good night.

Sorry!

Thank you.

Ants are fabulous creatures.

They rear aphids and milk them like cows.

But a society that kills off the unproductive.

Killed by the workers, what an honorable death!

- Not too tired, then? - Not too.

Where are they?

They were with the crazy woman.

Now in the corner bistro.

- What do you think of that? - Nothing.

I am alone...

make any excuse...

buy cigarettes, a newspaper.

Right!

Thanks! I'll wait for you.

What would you like?

- A Clacquesin aperitif. - We don't have any.

Then nothing, thanks.

So...

Marie...

Those eyes that could melt your heart...

and her loneliness in that "anthill".

And you...

the only one neighbour of your type.

Her cheeks were like porcelain...

in the soft morning light.

And fingers...

fragile as branches of the vine.

One day she lost the keys to her flat.

She was there on the landing.

She was...

petrified...

Her fear was so visible...

I thought I could understand my own fear by taking her hand,

because...

I, too, am scared of life.

I do not know what we are or where we come from.

What we're doing here.

Why we suffer, or where we are going.

She agreed to come to my flat.

For 5 minutes.

Until the caretaker came with the master key.

A man called Lenoir?

Yes.

She refused a glass of lemonade.

Her father said it was bad for her.

Another time, she accepted an orange juice.

She was very serious.

She wasn't like a child...

or a young girl, or woman.

She was like a tale... a fairy tale.

She took blue pills...

as if they were a prescription from an enchanter.

You talk like a poet.

But I have no right to continue... no right.

Truth be told, I do not like the police...

despite you.

You hate us that much?

That's too big a word.

I do not hate anyone.

These days it's wrong to hate anyone.

No, I just don't like the police.

I do not like them, because...

they hide in the hills,

around the corner, behind the bushes, to punish the living!

They never try asking for anything.

They lie in wait, to trap... to punish... to...

Mr. Loring...

every day,

for an hour,

before your wife got in...

you carried that girl into a world of purity.

And you lived for that hour.

Your wife is a thousand miles from that universe.

And she'll never reach it.

I understand why you couldn't talk about Marie,

either to your wife,

or to the police.

Yes... I just couldn't.

But...

sincerely...

I only want to help Marie.

Sorry, I do not know her address... nothing.

Nothing useful.

But did she talk about school?

Yes.

She was afraid of being bullied by the other children.

She only liked her father.

When they lived in the suburbs...

she had a white cat with red collar.

Called "Snowball".

When he died,

he left towards the sun and...

lived in the clouds.

She had...

pure chestnut hair...

a large mouth and...

her charm was...

indescribable...

One day she spoke of the death of her mother.

Listen, Mr. Jacques,

she's left for the sun in a big car driven by Mr. Thoin.

Dad and I were inside with mum.

Then, Mr. Thoin said it was not for children.

And that's when mum was left all alone.

Mr. Thoin was very nice.

Her great dream was to be an actress.

Her father said it was a very tough profession.

She must eat well and go to bed early.

She left without saying goodbye.

Perhaps it was for the best.

If you ever see her...

tell her Mr. Jacques is still there in his corner.

Yes, I will.

Some guy!

- You have done very well. - Yes.

That Mr. Thoin who buried the little girl's mother...

he probably won't remember.

Unlike a grocery store, a funeral company will keep records.

Actually, I think it's our best lead yet.

- Really? - Yes, really.

Ah, here it is,

Martin, Rachel, née Isaac.

Death certificate signed on July 16th by Dr. Silverstein.

- Doctor... who? - Silverstein.

- Do you have his address? - Yes, yes.

34 Rivoli Street.

Any details of the father?

No, no, I've already said.

I remember the little girl, because she talked like an adult.

That's it.

- Thanks, bye. - Thank you.

When Dr. Silverstein died, his wife went to live with his son.

- Where? - Some place on Aubert Street.

Excuse us. Thank you.

Thank you, mister.

Best see her assistant, Mrs. Onin.

They were together a long time.

She works at a clinic,

in district 10, I think.

Was he an accountant?

Yes...

yes, plain, but not ugly.

And very kind, anyway.

Do you remember their address?

Their address?

Don't say you've forgotten it!

I went to Mrs. Martin's flat 3 times a week to give her an injection. I have not forgotten.

22 Couronnes Street, in Belleville.

An old house.

Tell me,

do you know if the girl had a white cat?

- A white cat? - Yes.

Now that you mention it, I think so, yes.

He said they were blue.

Hey, Jeanne,

I'm talking to you.

- What? - About the pills. He said they were blue.

Who said that?

Loring. Mr. Loring.

The little girl was "ill", "sickly"...

everyone has said so... the school, everywhere.

Just have to find her doctor, simple as that!

How?

By checking the records of the local chemists.

We'll check the records, the prescriptions...

and find the doctor's address.

There should be about 15 local chemist shops.

Let's wake up the chemists.

Right now?

Do you want to go right now?

Of course.

But what gives?

What are you...

a robot?

Can't you see, we'll never find him?

No-one will.

No-one has seen him.

One anonymous call, nothing more.

That Martin is a mirage,

a myth, a nightmare!

And you are a...!

If I find something, I'll call tonight.

If not, we'll meet tomorrow at La Glacière.

Get some sleep.

These are the prescriptions for the last 5 years.

They comprise mainly of repeat requests for prescription drugs.

Good luck!

Yes?

It's me. I don't know what he's up to, he's going to every chemist.

Where?

Around La Glacière.

Are you coming?

Just keep me informed.

I heard a whisper...

They're looking for a prescription...

medication Marie used to take.

So they find Martin's doctor,

and if he hasn't changed, find Martin.

Not bad...

to think of that.

Go and tell the others to follow them and come back.

Alright.

This time, you first...

- I'll follow. - Okay.

FIRST DAY OF SORAMON TRIAL

ONLY A LAST MINUTE WITNESS COULD CONVICT HIM

- I think I've got it. - Huh?

I have it.

- Where? - There...

Martin.

No name or address.

Dr. Enric,

12 Emile Deschanel Avenue,

pathologist.

I'm bushed.

What? Oh, it's you.

Pacoceline... what's that... pills?

Pills, yes.

What color?

Blue,

plain blue.

I thought we'd never find that doctor.

They found the doctor's address.

Did you?

Impossible, they found it in a record.

There are 50, and they didn't tell the chemist which one.

I'm happy with that.

What's wrong?

Someone went into the chemist's after us.

He isn't alone.

Do not turn around.

- Are you sure? - Yes.

The same ones since the start.

My place. 5 des Ternes Avenue.

First on the left.

Your flat is too risky.

And you?

Don't worry.

We'd better split up.

Blimey...

the pig's in love!

Fine. He's ours.

Don't make a fuss.

Give us the address.

Oh, yeah?

- Is he armed? - If he were, they'd be dead.

I'll get him!

I'll go round the block.

Give me that paper.

Do you know the penalty for killing a cop?

In his hand.

Help me.

And now, let's go and wake up the quack.

I wonder...

"Received from Marceau Leonetti... payment of the third installment..."

Officer...

I'm bringing you something unusual.

Leroy, you want to see? He's in the cab over there.

So, things aren't going well?

What happened?

Nothing.

Nothing, I'm fine.

It's Leonetti...

There were stories...

I think he drank.

Can I have a coffee, please?

Coffee?

Yes, yes, of course.

That's the trash can, and it's full.

Sugar.

Salt!

Well, this is water...

Nothing works!

He obviously lives alone.

Lie down a while, you'll feel better.

How many lumps?

Four.

I like your home.

I had a look around...

to pass the time.

I'm a bit nosy.

I saw your Légion d'honneur.

You don't wear it?

Never?

They give it to you for one thing, then shoot you for the very same thing.

If my father could hear you!

And then...

I saw a book...

by Proust.

Brand new.

And a gun...

and photographs.

I never said that.

No, but you're thinking about it.

It's normal.

You're brand new...

on life, on the job...

facing an old horse...

We always ask these questions when we're facing an old horse.

To begin with,

you're not an old horse.

Let's hope that doctor comes up with an address.

I wanted to say that...

even if we don't find Martin...

I'll always have faith in you.

I-I've always had faith in you.

You have to realize, they are living like hunted animals.

We are their only chance.

And you.

Of course,

if you don't believe me...

I don't know what else to say...

- Miss? - Yes, sir?

Marie Martin's file, please.

- Right away. - Thank you, Doctor.

Excuse me, if it's okay to ask,

is the little one seriously ill?

Cirrhosis.

Due to a congenital atrophy in the biliary system.

It's a long-term disease, but it's well on its way.

The address is Cité de la Glacière, District 13.

Oh, no!

That's their old address.

No, the former one is on Couronnes Street.

How long since they've come here?

5 weeks ago.

Do they come on a set date?

Of course, every 5 weeks.

They have an appointment for today... at 11:45.

Today?!

Yes.

- Doctor, did you say "today"? - Yes.

Thank you, doctor.

How are they? How is she?

These days she wears a red coat,

edged with white fur.

- Are you okay, sweetheart? - Yes.

If you're getting tired,

- we'll take a cab, huh? - No need.

I just wanted to give them a hug.

He seems to love her dearly.

Would be nice if Fabre and Allister signed the call-sheet when we bring Martin in.

Call them and tell them to wait at headquarters.

But, what about you?

And us.

Us?

We've found him haven't we?

Okay...

I'm off!

Roger...

glad to see you.

Hi, Marie.

We were going to your house.

I have an accounting problem to show you.

Yes...

by all means.

May I present my new partner, Jeanne Dumas?

- Nice to meet you. - Likewise, sir.

I have heard so much about you and Marie.

They're... friends from work.

Hello, sir.

Hi, Marie.

You are very pretty.

We'll bring your dad back very soon.

Meanwhile, you could have a bite together.

Do you see that restaurant?

We'll find you there.

If dad agrees.

Yes, yes, a very good idea. Thanks.

- Do you want a taxi? - Just hang on a minute!

Be nice to the lady,

and stick to your regime.

- I promise. - Miss...

Take these. She must take 2 before meals.

Don't worry.

How did you find me?

How?

It's a long story.

To Quai des Orfèvres.

I can not believe it!

What a lovely present!

I baptize you "Snowball", like my other.

I have a friend who knows you.

Mr. Loring, you know, Mr. Jacques.

Ah, yes, at the flats. We told each other animal stories.

- Him and his ants! - And you...

you with your pony drinking water from the river.

Unfortunately, I don't have one yet.

One day you will.

What's your school?

I don't go. Dad doesn't want me to.

I study many things with him at home.

I want to be an actress when I grow up.

We'll fix it.

And you and that man, what do you do?

I guess... we deal with people.

Our job is to protect.

Oh, that's why he is so nice.

And he also knows many magic tricks.

If you have children you should have a lot of fun.

Maybe he has a daughter like me.

Yes... I think he does.

So, is it good?

I brought your dad...

He's waiting outside with friends of his.

We'll take you to a nice house just till tomorrow night, okay?

- I think so. - So do I.

Ah, there it is!

Look, Dad, Miss Jeanne gave me another "Snowball".

How nice!

Thanks again, miss.

Everything will work out fine.

- Do you believe that? - Sure, of course. Trust us.

Good job, congratulations.

Marceau...

what I'm about to say is nonsense.

But I must say it anyway.

I'm so excited!

We've saved them!

Excuse me.

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?

Raise your right hand and say "I swear".

I swear!

There's your father.

So it is!

Dad, you've been ages!

I don't think we've forgotten anything.

If we have, call the hotel.

Dad, I looked after myself.

It's all here.

Goodbye, Martin, you were great.

Good luck.

You're leaving me on my own?

We're done.

Hey. Thanks again.

Look, his eyes are beige!

Why?

Why did the police leave him?

Marceau, why?

No orders to protect him.

So we need orders to protect people?!

That's the police?!

It's disgraceful.

I'm sure everyone knew Martin was a dead man.

And you, did you know?

I don't care.

The fact that they sentenced Soramon isn't the most important thing.

The girl! What about the girl?

What will become of her?

We killed her father.

Without us, he'd not have been found.

I'm ashamed, Marceau...

If only you knew...

I was really deluding myself!

Everything's turned awful.

Don't you think?

Well, I think that...

anyway, it's too late.

Too bad.

Goodbye, then.

"This life is a lost boon

"if you don't live it

"as you wanted to."

--GEORGE COSBUC.