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Eddy Batkin.

You killed a cop,
a man with three children.

I hope you're happy.

Chief!

We'll deal with them tomorrow.

Captain…

I must warn you, we're ill.

We have certificates to prove it.

Born 1953.

Day…

Month…

Sex…

Male or female?

Want us to strip you?

Drop it, Perez!

We have nothing on Eddy Batkin.

No reform school, not even a fine.

He's not a known addict.

Dad's an industrialist. Jacques Batkin.

Married to Ferucci's daughter?

Ferucci-Batkin Transportation?

Yeah, but the kid's mother
is called Ginette Favron.

Ginette Favron, yes.

I know the father.

I met him at the prefect's party.

He's on a plane returning from Iran.

His wife will inform Eddy's mother.

What about the house they were at?

More money!

A German banker owns it,
but he's never there.

His sons, the twins, are studying in Nice.

Studying?

All we can do now
is wait for their lawyers.

Big names, of course.

And the psychiatrists…

And their parents' big shot friends.

In other words, use kid gloves.

What about Grimaldi's wife?

And her three kids…

I know her. I'll go.

When your father gets here,
it'll be a shock for him.

Bear that in mind.

Jacques!

Did you hear about the child?

The child killed a cop, Jacques! A cop!

Get her off me!

Please…

Come on.

My son killed…

30th ANNIVERSARY
INTERNATIONAL FILM FESTIVAL

They don't give a damn about my kid!

It was an accident. Eddy's not a killer.

Afraid to speak?

You know that's not it.

Here…

You have to go to the police station.

I came as soon as I heard
the news flash on the radio.

Thank you, Muriel.

Thanks for coming.

It was kind.

After all this time, Jacques,
kind is hardly the word.

You're right. It's much more.

Will you defend Eddy?

No.

You don't want to?

I've taken a step back.
I don't plead cases anymore.

What's this crap?

It's the truth, for God's sake!

I'm the Honorable Mr. Ritter,
received by all.

Covered in gold, glory, and even medals.

The illustrious mummy.

But don't worry, the mummy will be there.

Believe me,
you'll need two lawyers on this.

I have a young colleague
I can bring into battle.

I'll be in the reserves.

It's best, believe me.

Eddy's very young.

They'll take that into account.

He might be very young,

but he killed.

Why?

Why?

He doesn't even know.

A fear reflex…

They were together to drink,
smoke hash, hang out.

That's their life.

You're an industrialist, I'm a cop…

For them, we're all morons.

What will happen?

He'll get no pity.

He's seventeen!

That's true.

But more and more 17-year-olds kill.

People have had enough.

You might have shared their opinion
until the tables turned.

But there was no premeditation.

So he says. We'll double-check.

Can I see him?

Perez?

Have Eddy Batkin brought in.

Tomorrow, the judge
will take over the case.

What about the others?

Out of fifty, I could only keep six.

Mostly on drug charges.

And their dealers?

You think they should be here,
not these kids. Is that it?

You know, Captain…

Yes?

Batkin, sir.

I felt like I was in a nightmare.

My head was thumping.

And the lights, suddenly…

I thought I was about to die.

I was scared.

I took the shotgun…

and I heard the noise,
like my head was exploding.

Later, they told me I fired.

I killed him.

Yes, you killed him.

Stand up straight.

It's all you have left.

Tell the judge the Hon. Jean Ritter
will be defending you.

Jean?

Tell him everything.

Don't beat around the bush,
don't hesitate.

Don't come off
as a hypocritical little thug.

Got it?

I promise.

I swear I didn't mean to do it.

Before you came, mom was here.

She yelled.

I'll deal with it.

Dad…

Yes?

You won't be back?

I'll be back!

THE PRICE OF INDULGENCE

We have a news flash.

In a ceremony at City Hall,

the prefect will posthumously award
the legion of honor

to police officer Grimaldi,
killed by the young drug addict Eddy B.

Now, a word from our sponsors.

REGIONAL INDUSTRIAL PARK

Good morning, sir.

Hello, Mr. Batkin.

Hello, sir.

Good morning, Mr. Batkin.

Good morning, sir.

Boss, we all want to say…

Thank you, Bertrand. I know.

Good morning, boss.

Hello, sir.

I wanted to say,
I heard the news and I'm sure…

Thank you, Florence.

Yes?

Mr. Crozier from Lorrain Equipment
wants an appointment.

Then we have the Italians,
they still want 20 tippers.

And the Japanese need our answer.

Their Paris representative…

Put them off. I don't want to see anyone.

Mr. Ritter is here.

Send him in.

Good morning.

-See the papers?
-Yes.

You're surprised?

To that point, yes.

Then stop reading them.

Were you expecting them to go easy?

You're a boss, rich, and in shit.

-So they stir it up.
-That's their job.

Tell me,

has the kid seemed normal lately?

-You're thinking drugs?
-Yes.

I didn't notice anything. Nor did Muriel.

I think it's a new thing, and occasional.

Alright.

Then let's wait for the file.

What happens then?

Then…

Then we're in the dark, old man.

Up against public opinion.

People are sick of violent crime.

Especially committed by youths.

Even when those youths come from a…

disadvantaged background, as they call it.

People want the death penalty.

The death penalty?

-For Eddy?
-No.

I don't think so.

Eddy is very young.

A first offender.

There was no premeditation.

It wasn't a vicious crime.

We can work with all that.

If necessary, I'll take second chair.

But it won't be easy.

Honestly, what do you think he'll get?

Best case,

not less than fifteen or twenty years.

No.

It's too much.

Come on, Jacques!

Your son killed a police officer
in the line of duty.

I know, you're right.

It also depends
on the investigating judge we get.

-Know who it might be?
-Yes.

It's not good.

You need to fight for my kid, Jean.

-Let me go!
-And so will I.

Let go of me!

You're crazy!

I'm his mother! You don't understand!

You can't stop me seeing the bastard
who sent my kid to prison!

And his slut of a wife can't have helped!

That bitch with her money…

-Calm down, people can hear.
-I hope so!

Of course he chose his dad.
He got all he wanted!

Even drugs!

See where her money got you?

I don't care!

I want him! He's mine!

He was my son, you hear me?

That's enough.

Ginette…

Come on, I'll take you home.

Come on.

Jacques?

He's upstairs, ma'am.

He didn't seem any different to me.

And you?

He went out more.

But I knew him, I saw him…

If he was an alcoholic or an addict,

I'd have noticed, right?

He even did sports.

It was yourself you saw.

That beautiful shiny bike…

he only rode it once.

No.

I'm not blind.

I saw him just fine,

exactly as he was.

I always judged those I loved
until it hurt.

I told myself he was young…

No, Jacques.

You didn't know him.

He's not my son, but I saw him.

Maybe I had the time.

You didn't.

The travel, money, business…

You didn't forget you had a son,

but perhaps he wasn't sure
he had a father.

Captain, any news on the Batkin case?

The accused is behind bars. Case closed.

Anything on his father?

-They say he's of Polish origin.
-So what?

Give us something, Captain. Help us out!

Captain…

What's the kid facing?

Minimum 20 years.

What time is it?

Time for you to sleep.

Get some rest.

You have to see the judge today.

Don't worry, it's on my mind.

Sleep.

Here, your letter.

Is it your girlfriend
who writes every day?

Mr. Batkin…

Did you teach your son
the necessary respect for justice?

I'm a businessman, your Honor.
Not a judge.

Your profitable business affairs

lead us to suppose
you know how to play the system.

Is success a crime?

No, but nor is it a virtue.

It is certainly not a protection.

This isn't about me, but my son.

He's seventeen.

Mr. Batkin,

when we sentenced
a 17-year-old killer to death,

the prosecution only requested
life in prison.

The jury wanted the death penalty.

We saw it as a reflection
of public opinion.

People are sick of violence.
They're afraid.

But we forgot one thing.

The boy was from a poor background.

Unlike your son.

I don't see the connection.

Yet there is one.

Killers must all be judged alike,

whatever their fathers' wealth.

My son's not a killer. It was bad luck.

Bad luck for a lucky child.

You can explain all this
to the civil party,

the police officer's orphans

and the widow Grimaldi.

Mrs. Grimaldi…

Yes, why?

I'd like to talk to you.

Is it about the case?

You're not a journalist!

It was very hard for me to come here.

May I come in?

I'm Eddy Batkin's father.

A father who deplores his son's actions,

and wants you to know
that he shares your grief.

Thank you.

I wish I could heal your pain.

I understand.

Sadly, that's not possible.

My son deeply regrets what he did.

His action was terrible,
but not deliberate.

Please sit down.

Listen,

if there's anything you need,
you can count on me.

No, sir.

But thank you.

Thank you for seeing me.

It was unhoped for.

Goodbye, ma'am.

And?

She's a good woman.

I think she'll help us.

It's so important for Eddy,
I can barely let myself hope.

We have to.

I think she'll see us again.

Meeting her made me realize
the harm Eddy has done.

I'll be back once I've seen him.

I'll try to come back next week.

But I can't promise you,
it's been rough lately…

Are you sleeping, at least?

I hear the clock chime every hour.

There's a church nearby.

I can't believe what I did.

It's time.

Write to Muriel, she'd like that.

Are you going away?

Who was your visitor?

My father.

The Pole is your father?

Yes, he's of Polish origin.

We called him the Polack.

-You know him?
-You bet!

We were inside together.

You were in jail with my father?

That shocks you?

We even tried to escape.

The prison was in Luxembourg.

We put laxatives in our eyes
to get sent to hospital.

He can't have forgotten.

He finally got out by playing crazy.

Antoine Reynac, mention my name.

He was a gangster then.
Don't worry, he'll get you out.

A gangster? My father?

Good thing for you!
It means he has experience.

I have some guards in my pocket.
They'll help you out.

Reynac!

You have the Italians at 11.

The Italians?

I can find an excuse…

No, send them in.

NATIONAL ARRIVAL AND GENEVA

Hello, how are you?

Mr. Vaulnet, from the Paris bar.

Mr. and Mrs. Batkin.

Hello, sir.

Mr. Vaulnet will come
for all the hearings.

That's good news.

Mrs. Grimaldi accepted money
for her son's medical studies.

We have prepared her letter of withdrawal.

Final call on flight Air France 6696.

"I the undersigned, Mrs. Grimaldi, declare

that despite my loss,
I do not wish for idle vengeance."

"I choose to withdraw my formal complaint,

and in memory of my husband, a good man,

I plead the court to show indulgence
to a 17-year-old killer,

who acted without hatred or premeditation
in a moment of madness."

GAMBETTA CHOC SUPERMARKET

Hello, ma'am.

-I was waiting for you.
-Me too!

Here!

Take your money.

I don't understand.

Read this and you will.

I thought you sincere,
but you're just a family of felons!

Like father, like son!

If you come back, I'll call the police.

OFFICES

"He clearly didn't raise his son
to respect the law and the police."

"This no longer seems surprising,
given Jacques Batkin's past."

"A past he thought buried forever
thanks to both time and fortune--"

The latest edition's interesting.

Well?

The dirt hit one day too soon.

The widow read it and threw it in my face.

I knew it would come out.
I just needed a few more hours!

They have to sell papers.

-Jacques paid his debt to society.
-Of course.

I know that. Wasn't I his lawyer?

But when it comes to paying your debt,

people always want interest.

How will it impact the case?

Not well.

The father a former gangster,
the son a murderer…

For the media, it's a godsend!

It'll help the prosecution, too.

We have to intervene.

This campaign must stop!

We have friends.

We had friends.

I read the papers.

Reynac told me everything.

What you did together,

everything you pulled…

How you got out by feigning madness,

fooling the doctors and psychiatrists.

You were a gangster.

For real.

A top guy, Reynac says.

Now people know I'm your son,

I get respect in here.

I even get privileges.

-Are you proud of me?
-Yes.

Very.

Listen, Eddy…

it took me 20 years
to dig myself out of that hole.

To forget, to build a new life.

For over ten years,
I fought my way back, alone.

Without telling anyone.

Keeping my past to myself.

I saw that past.

I saw Jire Batkin,
a Polish immigrant miner,

who died in the mine.

I looked at his son, Jacques Batkin,

to see if he'd become a more normal man.

A bit less stupid, hounded and unhappy.

For years, I was that beast.

Until the day I decided to get out.

To win more
than a reputation as a gangster.

I knew where the real power lay,

and I wanted it,
in return for my father's misery.

You know why?

For you.

Eddy Batkin.

So you could be proud to have my name…

elsewhere than in prison,

with people other than hoods, murderers,

and petty crooks.

I won it for you.

I never had anything.

I wanted to give you everything.

I won't let you throw that away.

Let a little fool who killed a cop…

Stop.

…be proud that his dad
knew a guy like Reynac?

I wanted your hands to be clean
in place of my own.

Even in here,

don't forget that.

If you're capable.

Goodbye.

It'll be ready at dawn.
It's going to Spain.

Can I have a coffee?

Sure, boss.

Thanks.

We don't believe all they're saying.

Yet it's true.

Makes no difference.

Thank you.

For the coffee and the rest.

Hello, sir.

I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here.

That's fine.

What's new around here?

The board of directors is meeting.

-Without me…
-OK.

Florence, tell me what I should do.

About what, sir?

The current business, of course.
Bring me the files.

Here, send this by fast mail.
It's for my son.

Very well.

Thank you.

COURT HOUSE

If I stay in the police,
she'll divorce me.

She gave me the choice.

She thinks unemployment
isn't high enough already?

Think carefully, because…

-Am I disturbing you?
-No.

I heard you were regulars here.

Have a seat.

A coffee, please.

I don't agree with the press,
if that's why you're here.

No, it's not about that.

I see.

You're still fighting for the kid.

What would you do in my position?

They had a gun loaded with buckshot,

the two sons are well-known druggies,

and the house was open to anyone
to do anything.

So what?

You find that normal?

Think about it.

The house is isolated.

Keeping a loaded shotgun
at your home is not a crime.

You're fighting, but we fought as well.

We did our job thoroughly.

Okay, I questioned the kids
under medical supervision.

Couldn't even give them a slap.

But we turned them in circles.

They were having a party, so what?

They had a gun, so what?

They were all drugged up, so what?

We got a dead end there, too.

I'm telling you, we did our jobs.

I'd like to share your certainty.

I know what you're thinking, friend.

I might be a cop, but I do understand.

Yes…

Cops sometimes understand, you know.

Especially if they have kids.

But I also know who you were.

And who you are, despite all your money,

the trucks, the business and all the rest.

Circumstances can change,
but some men never do.

You're one of them.

It can be bad to stay the same,
or revert to it.

This is my fault?

You're ready to mess up.
That would be your fault!

Your kid didn't know. He has an excuse.

But you've been there.

You'll have no excuse
if you return for a second helping.

Just watch out,
or I might stop understanding.

There, I've said my piece.

And I wasn't talking
to Mr. Jacques Batkin.

Cognac?

No, thanks.

We'll meet up at Gaby's.

Mr. Feldman?

No. He's in back.

Mr. Feldman, I believe.

I'm Jacques Batkin.

I'm here for two things.

To discuss your rifle
and to see your sons.

My sons?

My wife's little darlings.

Where are they?

Ask them to come down.

No. There's nothing I can do.

For long time now,
there's been nothing I can do.

No!

It's nothing.

What do you want?

-Got some money for us?
-You've bled me dry.

-Leave me alone!
-Hand it over!

Little shits!

Sons like this!

Who?

Who provides your drugs?

Who?

Chiusi. 3, rue de la Graine.

A watchmaker.

Yes, who is it?

It's me, Muriel.

Come in!

What's wrong?

Jacques didn't come home.

It's five in the morning.

Maybe he stayed at the office.

No one saw him yesterday.

If there was an accident,
we'd already know.

I'm not thinking of an accident.

WATCHMAKER - OPEN

Hello.

-I need this cleaned, please.
-Yes.

Not before the end of next week.

You can't do it faster?

I have to leave on a trip.

I'll pay more.

Just a minute, I'll check.

The guy's insisting. You have to do it.

-What is it?
-The usual.

-A cleaning.
-Hurry up.

-Give me a minute.
-Stop that.

That's enough!

Don't move.

Don't touch anything.

In the export business?

You do local work, too?

Nice gift to give to a child,
don't you think?

Do you have kids?

I have one.

His name's Batkin.

Eddy Batkin.

No…

No, you're not murderers.

You're worse.

You don't give death…

You don't see it…

You sell it!

You weigh it!

You send it like anonymous letters
to children who die

when they receive it!

Your hands and consciences are clean.

Ever seen a young addict?

Dragging his feet…

his lips and hands shaking…

his eyes staring but seeing nothing,

like his brain had been amputated.

No, never.

You've never heard his cries,
his moans of pain,

as he begs,

as he cries to play with death
just one more time.

To get high, as they say.

You corrupt, you destroy,

you wipe out fathers, mothers,
childhood, everything!

There's nothing left.

Just money…

You should be strung up on meat hooks

and flayed alive in the square!

No!

Put that filth in the bathtub!

Go on!

Tell her to fetch the rest. Hurry up!

Who's your supplier?

I don't know, I swear.

-Who's your supplier?
-We don't know anyone!

We drop off the money
and get the merchandise.

-You call it merchandise?
-Have pity!

Pity?

Who will have pity on my son?

Nothing happens to filth like you.

You're small fry.

You're used to go after the big guys
they never catch.

They want your help to climb the ladder.

-I'll cut that ladder!
-No!

No, not that!

I need a bath. I'm dirty.

That's no reason
to drag others into the filth!

-Drag who?
-Eddy.

He cracked.
No one believed him, it's over.

You had no right.

The right to what?

Playing the madman worked for you,
but you can't get the kid

to do the same!

Eddy tried to…

Jean, he doesn't know!

You think I'd do something so stupid?

I'm sorry, Jacques.

I'm really sorry. I thought…

But Eddy messed up!

He pulled out all the stops
and fell flat on his face.

It won't help his case.

The judge is waiting.

He has some questions.
I hope he believes you.

You have to go.

When?

At 11 a.m.

I'm on my way.

Jean, I'm scared.

-Some days I think he's another man.
-Yes.

A man I used to know.

The trouble is that at one time,

you yourself suffered
from paranoid delusions.

I imagine now you're healed.

A 50% loss of mental faculties.

I imagine you'd wish the same
for your son.

Not at all.

I regret what he did.

You made a mistake, Batkin.

A bad mistake.

When you give someone advice,

especially advice like that,

you have to ensure
they know what they're doing.

You failed.

I gave him no advice.

I'm not sure of that,

and I'm tempted to charge you.

You're joking!

Look at my face.

You have my word…

Your word.

Without my word,

you know my file would be a lot thinner.

You have no proof of these charges.

Just my personal conviction.

I don't give a damn about your conviction!

Your allegations will help my son's trial.

Today, justice is often decided
outside our offices.

You read the papers.

You know what they think of you.

They may be overly severe,

but many think your rehabilitation
is not due to your personal merits.

You married into money, they say.

And behind all the luxury,

your son is a criminal.

Who we defend.

That's your right.

I also have a right.

I fear it doesn't correspond to yours.

I CONFESS TO HAVING DELIBERATELY
FEIGNED MADNESS

IN ORDER TO FOOL JUSTICE.

Now he's signed, let him eat.

Why did you do it?

I don't know.

Why did you do it?

Eddy…

Reynac told me everything.

How you did it.

You know, all those things.

You made them believe

that you were crazy.

And you…

were capable of it.

That's all.

So?

So…

I wanted to do like you.

Understand?

You shouldn't have.

Yes.

I wanted to show you I could do it too.

But I couldn't.

I thought about you all the time.

But I still couldn't.

You could!

How did you do it?

I wasn't thinking about anyone.

Maybe that's why.

I wanted to succeed.

To show you.

Please forgive me.

I already have.

You know,

I heard people talk about me.

They say I might be sentenced…

To death?

Yes.

I don't want to.

Don't be afraid.

I'm here.

Dad…

I don't want to die.

You feigned madness,

trying to fake extenuating circumstances.

You behaved not only like a fool,

but also like a seasoned repeat offender.

You had a good role model.

It was your father's idea!

Right?

Was it your father? Answer!

He won't answer.

I'm in charge of these proceedings.

In our presence.

Your Honor, please.

Are you putting Eddy
or Jacques Batkin on trial?

The father or the son?

We'd like to clarify this.

I don't need a lesson from you.

Perhaps not,
but don't get the wrong defendant.

I know where your rights end.
What's it to be?

So?

Truthfully, everything is against Eddy

Even worse, your son's in a fragile state.

He just proved it.

Let's not stay here. Come on.

I want to see Mr. Octavi.

-Is he expecting you?
-Yes.

Right this way, sir.

-26, black, even.
-26, 17, 24 et 34.

Jacques will listen to you.

He's never forgotten all you did for him.

He likes you so much. He admires you.

Talk to him, Jean.

All I have is words, my dear Muriel.

They're useless. Jacques has gone deaf.

Talk to him anyway.

Me…

I can't do anything.

I'm no one anymore.

Promise me.

Alright.

I promise.

-Really?
-Yes.

I'll try once more.

But I also have another idea.

That's very dangerous,

and I think it's a mistake.

A mistake? For who?

For the kid.

The kid has little left to lose.

Think about it some more, then come back.

Thank you.

I'll think about it.

I saw you born.

I saw you grow up.

I was made your godfather.

Come on.

I know it's hard on you,
and how sorry you are.

But I have faith in you.

I'm here to ask you a favor.

A favor?

-From me?
-Yes.

For your father.

You don't realize it,
but only you can talk to him.

He's becoming, or rather reverting to…

someone I used to know.
Capable of any folly.

You have to help him

come to terms with what's happened.

Understand?

To get him out of this state, he needs to…

feel you are responsible.

Brave, like a man…

who accepts his fate,
and the debt he must pay.

You must have the will to become a man.

Then…

later…

Understand?

Yes.

He needs this.

Do you get what I'm saying?

Alright, I'll try.

You can count on me.

Mr. Batkin, are you here to see me?

I was just passing by.

For your son… we haven't understood.

Beyond the obvious,
there's not much to understand.

Anyway, it's too late.

-Mr. André…
-Yes?

Take care of the others.

What are you doing here?

It's high!

And solid.

It's no answer.

To hug these walls.

Do you often come at this time?

I even come at night, if you want to know.

I want to know everything.

You should get some rest.

Circling the walls won't bring them down.

You must accept this as just.

He's my son! I don't care what's just!

You're wrong.

-You paid to learn that.
-Not this price.

There's no more price. There's nothing.

Last night we almost got shot
by a transvestite!

-Hello, sir.
-Hello.

Are you alone?

Mr. Ritter isn't coming?

Tomorrow.

How have you been?

Good.
We have to prepare for the next hearing.

Listen to me.

We need to give them a clear image of you.

It's very important.

All in all, you're not so bad.

Alright?

-Is dad okay?
-Yes.

As well as possible.

I wrote this letter for him.

So Mr. Ritter could give it to him.

I'll pass it on myself.

This time.

Your father-in-law phoned twice.
You should call him back.

I was expecting it.

I hope he remembers my wife and I
hold 60% of the shares.

I don't think it's about money.

He wants your name off the trucks
and the company name.

If it makes him feel better, I don't care.

Yes?

You can leave us, Florence.

-Hello.
-Hello, Jean.

Hello, Mr. Vaulnet.

Eddy is doing better.

I found him aware and responsible.

The court will feel it.

It's his best chance.

He'll express his regret.

They'll hear it.

To kill a cop like that, for nothing.

Because the light scared him.

And the trial…

My God, the trial!

Here.

-A letter from him.
-Thank you.

Eddy!

Quick, my son! Batkin!

My son! Open up!

He's still in shock.

His makeshift rope gave out.

You can wait, or come back later.
As you like.

Thank you. I'll come back.

He was doing well. He was calm.

He'd changed for the better.

I don't know what got into him.

I know…

I saw my sister.

At least she understands.

I'm an old fool.

You all know it.

To think it was my idea
to talk to the kid…

I've lost my judgement.

Don't be silly.

Will you return to Paris for now?

It depends if Jacques needs me or not.

Whatever you want.

What should we do about my father?

The company name.

Whatever you want.

Jacques…

Don't wait for me. I'll be home late.

Good evening.

He tried to kill himself.

-I know.
-I've thought it over.

Whatever his sentence,
he won't make it and nor will I.

You're making a mistake.

I have no choice.

As you like.

Come on, we'll fill you in.

Book exchange.

You have to sign up for the dentist.

-Why?
-I'll explain later.

It's every month.

You'll go three times.

OFFICES

Come here.

Eddy Batkin.

Born May 20, 1959,
to J. Batkin and G. Favron.

I am Chief Examiner Lenoir.

I will preside over the court
for your trial next month.

I want to read the charges
drawn up against you

at the end of the investigation.

"One year ago,

on the night of April 15, 1975,

you fired a shotgun,
killing Sergeant Grimaldi,

who was present in the line of duty."

"You have been judged sane
and are hence guilty of murder

under Article 304 of the Penal Code."

"The investigating judge's
conclusions on the circumstances

fall under Article L628 of the law
pertaining to illicit drug use."

Lezin, get ready for the dentist.

No bread. Some people throw up.

You too. Dentist.

-Take your bread.
-It hurts too much.

Perfect, you're not allowed anyway.

The first two, Lezin and Batkin,
are under special supervision.

Check it out! We're the most dangerous.

Only minutes, now.

We let everyone out?

Remember when you were there.

They're coming.

Crap!

See that?

Come on out, guys.

Guess we'd better take a look.

No stupid moves.

The key.

Open it! Come on!

-Eddy!
-Here, dad.

Open it.

Get out of here…

-Eddy!
-Lezin!

Eddy!

Batkin's prison van was attacked.

Batkin? Good God!

Lock down the airport
and the Italian border.

Alert the mountain police. I'm on my way.

HQ to car 4!

Car 4 receiving.

Alert to all available cars.

Eddy Batkin escaped from a prison van,

fleeing in a grey-green Peugeot 604,

license 930 FS06.

Lock down the airport.

Everything's organized.

I have a plane waiting.

Here.

We'll hide at a private estate in Sicily.

Everything is sealed off.

We'll patrol the area.

Dad, cops!

Car 4 to HQ, in pursuit of the escapees.

Car 4 to HQ…

Initial interrogations have led nowhere.

All the men wore masks
and it happened very fast,

giving little to go on.

I've just been brought
the latest information,

a news release from Nice.

The industrialist Jacques Batkin
attacked the prison van

carrying his son Eddy.

The boy was charged
with killing a policeman.

At this moment,

they are being pursued from the airport

where a plane was waiting.

They are driving towards La Vésubie

in a grey-green 604.

Jacques Batkin
had left his old life behind,

but old habits die hard.

Blinded by paternal love,

it seems he led his son

into a mad escape
which may well end in tragedy.

Jacques Batkin is armed.

Our correspondent is on site.

We hope to speak to him soon

for the latest update on the manhunt.

You've heard?

It's over. They're done for.

They're still free.

But for how long?

He didn't tell you?

No.

He left us a letter.

He says he's sorry,
he'll be in touch later.

That Jacques! I saved him as a young man.

I believed in him, I was even proud.

Now this disaster. What a waste!

Not for him.

Clear your head, Muriel. This is madness!

Don't judge him.

Yes…

He could have thought about us!

Or you, at least!

I wish I was with them.

-Hi, Jean.
-Hello.

Cut it down.

Keep the title,
"J. Batkin Helps Son Escape".

In place of the rest,

just put: "At last information,

he was spotted in La Vésubie,
heading for the border."

Forget the father-son tragedy?

No one's going to cry for a cop killer.

To the Jacques Batkin affair.

We'll go live to our correspondent,
who's aboard a helicopter,

flying over the Alps

somewhere between the Tende pass
and the Vésubie valley.

Robert Cessieux, RTL helicopter.
Are you there?

Yes, I hear you perfectly.

We're flying over the Vésubie valley.

We've lost sight of the escapees.

Two police helicopters
are searching the forest for them.

What are you doing? That's not yours!

Roger! The jeep!

They stole a jeep.

Land in front!

On the trees?

They're taking the ridge road.
We'll lose them in the forest.

We're following the police choppers,

tracking the jeep Batkin and his son

have just stolen.

I think the jeep is now heading

for the peak,
beyond which lies the Italian border.

It looks like they're going to try
and cross.

We'll go back to Jacques Paoli
in the studio.

I'll be back as soon I have an update.

Thank you, Robert.
We'll maintain the connection.

Jump! Go on!

We lost them.

Get a move on!

Robert, can you hear me?

Loud and clear.

Batkin and his son
have abandoned their jeep,

and are now on foot in the forest.

The search might have to be interrupted,

since the helicopters
will need to return to base

in order to refuel.

For now, we can't see them,

but I'm imagining
the fugitives in the forest,

and I can't help but spare a thought
for Batkin and his son.

I think they may still have a chance.

Even if they're spotted by the police

I'm not sure they can be reached.
The terrain is rough,

and no helicopter could land here.

The border is now very near,
and the mission appears compromised.

Perhaps they'll be found later
in another country,

or even another continent.

Two hundred meters of open land,
then we're in Italy.

Once they move off, we go!

There they are.

Pass them and set down.

I can't, there's too much wind.

And to the left?

-That's Italy.
-I don't care!

Shoot!

This isn't French land!

So what?

Subtitle translation by: Esther Russell