All language subtitles for Mille milliards de dollars

In this film, G.T.I. are the initials...

of the American company
GARSON TEXAS INTERNATIONAL

Hello, La Tribune.

I'd like to speak
to Mr Paul Kerjean, please.

Who's calling?

It's personal.

Hold the line.

You are connected to La Tribune,

the weekly for news, art
and literature.

We have registered your call,

please hold the line.
Thank you.

A THOUSAND BILLION DOLLARS

The person you have called is busy,

please hold.

Thank you.

The person you have called is busy.

Thank you for calling.
Please hold.

Paul Kerjean.
Who's calling?

My name is of no importance.

Stay there.

Stay there while we talk.

I'm too old to play Fantomas.

Stop being smart, Kerjean.

I have to be careful.
You'll understand when I explain.

I'm listening.

What do you know
about Jacques Benoit-Lambert?

I thought you were giving me
information.

Don't annoy me, answer.

Alright.

He's elegant, rich,
from a wealthy family,

and a political superstar.

Favourite sports: golf and swimming.

Is that enough?

If that's all you know, it's not much
and it's not quite true.

What's not true?

You said he was from a wealthy family
and rich.

- His family's not wealthy?
- It is. But he's not rich.

Not anymore.

He needs 750 million
before the end of the year.

He's a desperate man.

You mean he's ruined?

I said he needed 750 million,
not that he hadn't found it.

How did he find so much money?

That will be the subject
of our second meeting.

I haven't had so much fun
Since my 7th birthday party.

Wait 5 minutes before leaving.
I don't want to be followed.

If I see you following me,
it will be over.

Why are you giving me
this information?

Because I adore you.

Ba yen,

are we still on good terms
with the police?

We get along fine,
no more, no less.

Why? Are you in trouble?

No, not at all. I want the name
and address of the owner of this car.

I'll do the necessary.
An accident?

No. A mysterious informer.

He arranged to meet in a parking lot
to make some revelations.

Revelations? About who?

A big shot.

A real big shot.

MR ELECTRONICS

Jacques Benoit-Lambert?

Yes, JBL himself.

He's unassailable.
On all levels.

Your informer is crazy.

That's very possible.

Jacques Benoit-Lambert
France's Mr Electronics

AN IMPOSSIBLE MISSION
Economic recovery France Electronics

I'll call you back.

Hello, my little Arléne.
How's your love life,

your family, work, life in general?

Sure you're alright, Paul?

You're ingratitude personified.

I just want to know how you are.

Listen, kid,
lovers are a thing of the past,

I've no family
and I'm sick of work!

Do you know him?

Yes. It's JBL.

Tell me about him.
Loves or lovers, of course.

He's lived with the same woman
for 5 years. She's called...

Laura Weber.

No photos.
We've never caught them together.

Apparently, she's in her thirties,

beautiful, intelligent,
single, Classy.

Makes a change from his drunken wife!

On the other hand,

I've as many photos of her
as you want.

Officially, he's still married?

Yes, but they're separated.
She refuses to divorce him.

At the last reception
at the US Embassy she got drunk.

He wanted her to leave,
She got angry, made a scandal...

Just another incident.

Ah! Distinguishing feature:

a huge personal fortune.

It's the gentleman
you were expecting, madam.

Come in, sir.

- What's your name again?
- Paul Kerjean, madam.

Thank you for receiving me.

Sit there, so I can see you.

No. There.

You're hidden behind the flowers.

Have a drink.
Help yourself.

You look charming, Mr Kerjean.

It's very kind to come and see me.

I'm so alone

in this big house.

No one bothers about me.

Having no one to talk to
is difficult, you know.

I understand, madam.

I imagine that you know
that my husband and I...

well, we've been separated
for a while.

My husband and I have
been the subject of gossip recently.

I'm aware of that, madam.

No, no...

I prefer to serve myself.

Believe me, gossip
isn't what interests my newspaper.

Yes, I know.

That's the reason
I agreed to meet you.

You're very charming, Mr Kerjean.

You must know
that my husband lives with a...

a...

Well...

that sordid little adventure
has surely nothing to do with...

what you wanted to discuss.

Nothing at all, madam.

I'm writing about your husband,

and I thought no one
could know him better than you.

Isn't that true?

It certainly is.

We married in October '41.

During the war.

He'd just finished his law studies.

He joined the Free French Forces.

I went to join him in London.

But...

we saw little of each other
before the Liberation.

And...

After the war?

Oh, yes.

After the war.

We went to live in the provinces,

in Rouen.

He had a law firm
that was very successful.

Then he stood
for the parliamentary elections.

He was elected.

It was the start of his success.

A total success thanks to
his exceptional intelligence,

uncontested skill and charm

and professional competency.

Although apparently, recently,
he's had financial problems.

That's no doubt jealous gossip.

Has he had
any financial problems recently?

You should ask him that.

I only know
that he reduced my allowance.

I have my own personal fortune,

but it's not for everyday expenses.

- Right?
- Of course.

When you were together, did
your husband talk about his work?

No.

No.

He took no interest in me.

He just showed me off
for photos.

For the elections, for example.

Or when he needed to take a wife
to an official event.

And...

one day...

one day, he...

he left me alone forever.

And there were his mysterious trips

to see mysterious men.

What trips?
What men?

I don't know.

If I did, they wouldn't
be mysterious, would they?

Obviously, I didn't follow him.

And these trips

and mysterious men
weren't called Miss Laura Weber?

No.

Not exclusively.

How did you know?
You didn't follow your husband.

Your questions are becoming
more and more personal.

- Madam...
- I didn't follow my husband!

I didn't think for a moment that
a woman of your Class and standing

would sink so low as to follow
her husband at night.

I thought, maybe a private detective?

In such a terrible situation,
I would find that normal.

- Really?
- Definitely.

I shouldn't reveal
all my little secrets,

but you're so nice,

so understanding...

I think it's time for you to leave.

Good evening, sir.

Please excuse me
for not seeing you out.

Forget everything I said.

It was between you and me.

WALTER AGENCY
PRIVATE DETECTIVE

Mr Walter, you were recommended
by Mrs Benoit-Lambert.

If I understand rightly,
you followed her husband.

At night, in particular.

It's possible.

She told me you took photographs.

It's possible.

Can you tell me
when the photos were taken?

I didn't say I took photos.

I said it was possible.

Of course.

Someone else must have printed
your name on the back of the photos.

Listen, what do you want exactly?

To see the photos.

I hope you're joking.

Not at all. I know your fees.
I've prepared a cheque.

You've already been paid
for this.

When were these photos taken?

Over the last 2 months.

I was in my car
and used a zoom.

Not bad, are they?

On these negatives,
JBL isn't with his mistress,

but with strangers.
Who are these men?

I've no idea.

Mrs Benoit-Lambert
wanted evidence for her divorce.

I wasn't interested in anything else,
so I didn't develop them.

So why did you take these photos?

To prove to my client
that I was working.

Why?

Do people wonder?

Sometimes.

Right...

I'd like to borrow these negatives
for 24 hours. I'll return them.

Why?

For my own album.

That's not possible.

I only give my photos
to the Clients who hired me.

The photos belong in the file.

It's quite simple.
I'm your client.

I hired you to follow
Mr Benoit-Lambert and to take photos.

I'm delighted with your work.
I paid. I'll take my file.

That's perfect.

Your request:
7702 NM 78 Sam BRONSKY

Hello, sir.

That car is not for sale.

Hello, madam.
Is Mr Bronsky here?

I am Mrs Bronsky.

Who are you?

I'm Paul Kerjean.
I'm a reporter.

I've come about an investigation.

I'm sure you've got
the wrong address.

I don't think so, madam.
I'd like to see Mr Bronsky.

Mrs Bronsky assured me that the car
outside her house

had not been used for several weeks.

As for her husband,

he lived in America.
They'd divorced several years ago.

Eric!

The only Mr Bronsky I can introduce.

- Hello, sir.
- Hello.

I didn't believe a word she said.

But I left for the mysterious
Mr Bronsky

the number of a restaurant
Where he could contact me.

Hi!

Alright?

I'm fine.

How's Bastien?

He had a sore throat,
but he's fine.

You're having him on Saturday?

Listen... at the moment...

Can you keep him this weekend?

I'm working on a big case.

- A big scandal in View?
- Yes.

If all goes well.

If all goes well for who?

You, your readers,

the scandal?

Poor Jean, you spend your life
looking for a Dreyfus Affair.

But not everyone
is as lucky as Zola.

Running after Dreyfus,
you encounter Mesrine.

Héléne, don't start.

Our marriage failed,
let's make our divorce a success.

- Telephone for Mr Kerjean.
- Yes.

Hello?

- Paul Kerjean?
- Yes.

I thought I'd explained the rules
to you.

I've changed the rules.

I refuse to be a puppet
with you pulling the strings.

We need to meet very soon
if you want me to keep playing.

Alright.

I'll accept, this time.

Be at Martin's
in half an hour.

At Pavilion Royal.

Listen and do what I say.

Sit facing the bar,

with your back against the seat.
Understand?

Don't ever turn around
While we're talking.

Why did you want to meet?
Keep it short.

I will. I've had enough
of this mystery,

meetings at night
and hidden faces.

I don't know why, but you want
my paper to bring down JBL.

I won't publish an article Without
real proof of your accusations.

I want to know who you are,
who I'm working with

and your sources.

If you won't accept, forget it.

Kerjean, deep down,

you know this is explosive
but don't know how to handle it.

You're annoyed
because you're at a standstill.

You can't handle this investigation.

Find someone else, then.
Goodbye!

Listen, Kerjean,

two weeks ago,
I contacted you.

What have you learned
about Benoit-Lambert?

He's respectable and respected,
of unquestionable integrity,

transparent bank accounts.
Love life... acceptable.

That's his public side.

I said he was
in dire straits financially.

That he needed 750 million
and had found it.

Have you heard of SCOVIM?

It's a real-estate company, headed
by Benoit-Lambert's son-in-law.

What's the link?

SCOVIM built
two 15-storey office towers.

For 2 years, it's been impossible
to rent or sell the offices.

The banks have Closed
the credit valves.

They have to reimburse 750 million
at the end of the year,

but they can't.

They'll declare bankruptcy.
Suddenly.

On the eve of bankruptcy,

miraculous buyers will pay
1 billion, 750 million

for the 2 buildings
that can't be sold,

saving SCOVIM
and it'll make a nice profit as well.

And?

Are you doing this on purpose?

That proves that the CEO of SCOVIM
is remarkable

and that Benoit-Lambert
has the right son-in-law.

The CEO of SCOVIM
is not a remarkable man,

he's a pretentious,
incapable little technocrat.

So the buyers help out SCOVIM
and save it at the last minute.

They don't give a damn
about SCOVIM.

They're using SCOVIM
to get to Benoit-Lambert.

In that hand,
there was 1 billion, 750 million.

That is not a purchase,
it's a bribe.

A bribe for what?

I'm not the reporter.

I've put you on the path,
now investigate.

No one pays almost 2 billion
out of sheer kindness.

Why not use legal means
to denounce this affair?

For a very simple reason.

Benoit-Lambert has powerful friends.

I don't want the affair
to be covered up.

If necessary,
What is your direct number?

How long have you been working
on this, Kerjean?

- 3 months.
- Why didn't you tell me?

I wanted to present
something watertight,

with proven facts, not accusations
based on gossip.

I don't like you investigating
an explosive case without my consent.

It only became explosive
a few hours ago, Mr Hartmann.

Before, I was at a dead end.

What came up?

I knew that a miraculous buyer
had paid 1 billion, 750 million

to save SCOVIM from bankruptcy.

And, indirectly,
Jacques Benoit-Lambert.

This evening,

I found out who was behind the buyer.

The multinational G.T.I.

And, of course, this revelation
came from a reliable source.

I can't say my sources
are the best,

but the information is indisputable.

It all started
in the most ordinary way.

Benoit-Lambert and his mistress
were followed by a private detective,

hired by Mrs Benoit-Lambert.

Classic photos,

the vengeance of a jealous wife,

who wants the divorce case
to rule in her favour.

But JBL goes out
without his mistress.

To meet other people.

This man, for example.

To justify his salary, the detective
kept taking photos

of no value for the divorce case.

I obtained the negatives
he hadn't developed.

Our photo department
has just developed them.

Do you know this man?

Yes.

3 months ago,

you sent me to Brussels
for the G.T.I. convention. Remember?

That's right.

We even joked about what time
you were invited. It was 4 am.

That's right.

I arrived at the Hotel de la Cite
at 4 in the morning,

and I was met by this man.

Fred Gritt.
Delighted to welcome you, Mr Kerjean.

Thank you for accepting
our invitation.

It's only normal.

Since I have been head
of public relations at G.T.I.,

you're the only reporter invited
to our annual convention.

I'm very flattered
by this exceptional invitation,

but...

Why 4 am?

It's only 9 pm for G.T.I.

Our president travels a lot.

On Monday he was in Hong Kong,
Wednesday in Bombay,

Thursday afternoon, in Moscow,

Friday, he headed a meeting
in New York, today, he's here.

No human body can resist
so much jet lag all year long.

So the company decided to forego
local times

and everything is based
on New York time.

It is presently 9 pm in New York.

Really?

When he arrives somewhere,
breakfast is eaten at suppertime

and bedtime is at 3 pm.

That's about right.
It's a question of habit.

Our watches are set
to New York time.

It's much easier when we have to call
our headquarters.

The president will speak
in about 15 minutes'.

It's always very brief.

I will introduce you afterwards.

Vittorio Horta.

Michel Saint-Claude, G.T.I. Europe.

What are you drinking, Mr Kerjean?

I'm torn between a large whiskey

or hot white coffee
with a croissant.

Here is the most important photo.

JBL

met - somewhere -

the president of G.T.I.

A formidable brain
and a fearsome businessman.

He managed to create patriotism
for his company.

That evening, at the convention,

I heard his speech.

His handshake was as cold as steel.

But this handshake

is worth 1 billion, 750 million.

Everything came together,

Jacques Benoit-Lambert
has family and financial ties

With the company SCOVIM
which is in difficulty,

but JBL is also the honest
and uncompromising president

of French Electronics.

Unfortunately, you cannot
receive almost 2 billion

and remain uncompromising.

Of course.

You can't tell G.T.I.
you'd like their millions

but ask them not to interfere
in your business.

It's a little convenient
to blame multinationals

for all the economic problems
in the world.

Why are you smiling?

Because that night,
at the convention,

the president of G.T.I.
said exactly the same thing.

So, Mr Kerjean,

is your paper one of those who think
that companies like G.T.I.

are responsible
for Europe's misfortunes?

That's what economists say.

They write complicated books,
read only by other economists.

That's as far as it goes.

And you, Mr Kerjean,
do you read those books?

I've read some of them.

I didn't understand everything,
there are so many graphs,

growth and investment Charts,

market penetration.

I recall three or four figures
that fascinated me.

Apparently, today, in the world,
excluding the socialist countries,

thirty companies,
including yours,

total an annual turnover
of a thousand billion dollars.

And?

And such immense power
in the hands of so few

is frightening.

A thousand billion dollars.

It's one and a half times the GDP
of France.

A third of the wealth generated
annually in the USA.

A thousand billion dollars is...

10% of the wealth
generated annually in the world,

for a club of 30 people.

Why are you complaining?

90% remains for the others.

Not really, because if we increase
the membership to 200 companies,

you control 20%
of world production,

using only 0.5% of the population.

Of course, you could retort

that there remains 80%

for the 4 billion people
in the rest of the world.

In the world in which we live,

you must grow or die.

We've decided to grow.

- Any objection?
- None.

A small captain of industry,
who probably agreed, once said:

"When a multinational
approaches your market,

"you have 2 choices.

"You sell out to them
or you close down."

He must have been depressed.

It's current.

Things will improve.

It worked out well for him.
He sold his company to G.T.I.

He was a wise and smart man.

He'll be able to holiday
all yearlong.

All his worries are ours now.

Tell me, are you
slightly communist on the edges?

If I was a communist,
it wouldn't be "on the edges".

Would I be a reporter for La Tribune?

True, but be careful what you say.

Fred Gritt called me the next day,
to make sure your article

would be less violent
than your words.

And it was, dear Ba yen.

That's true.

Despite a "diplomatic incident",

that was a close escape.

I think it was the G.T.I. Manager
for Belgium

who came to my table and said:

I think that this animosity
towards multinationals

is because European public opinion,
especially in France,

is deeply rooted in nationalism.

They are not ready to accept
the globalization of business,

and they dislike foreign competition.

Foreign competition

is going to a country and saying:

"Look, my product is better
and cheaper than yours."

That's what we do.

No, you implant yourselves
in the country,

take over the company
with the same product

and impose your own product.

You don't expect those people

to welcome you with open arms?

You are quite right.

They only do that when we free them
from the Nazis!

That's what we call a cheap shot.

Personally,
I never thought for a second

that you freed us
from military occupation

to replace it by an economic regime.

Gentlemen,

I think Mr Kerjean would agree

that we've just made
two very bad jokes.

We promise that
it won't happen again.

That was when someone
put something in my pocket.

I never found out who.

Undoubtedly the only person
who liked me.

On a paper napkin,

he'd written 3 figures.

Mind-boggling.

Three figures
concerning who or what?

In 1968, an annual turnover
of a thousand billion dollars

required the 6,000 major companies
in the world.

In 1978,

only 50 made the same amount.

Today, there are 30.

Tomorrow, 5 maybe.

And even...

one alone.

On what terms did you leave?

We separated in a perfect
and mutual lack of understanding.

I'll never forget the last impression
I had of him.

I've met quite a few visionaries
in my life.

Spiritual mystics,

sects,

revolutionaries,

ideologists, terrorists,

he is perhaps a mystic of profit.

His eyes riveted on another planet,

he raised his glass...

To G.T.I.

To you.

As for me,

in my will, I have asked for
two dates to be engraved on my tomb.

My dates of birth and death.
That's normal.

And in gold lettering,

a single figure.

The G.T.I. share price
the day of my death.

I want my successor to come
to my grave once a year,

and I will still be there,

to check if they have made
the share price rise.

SCANDAL AND BRIBES

It's launched.

Go home and take
the phone off the hook.

You'll be plagued by radios, TV...
Everyone will come calling.

Certainly not.
I'm leaving for 2 or 3 days.

Where can we contact you?

At the old man's.
But only if it's urgent.

- Back to your roots.
- That's right. See you.

Goodbye.

Paul!

It's great to see you again.

- It's been at least...
- Even longer!

- Isn't the old man here?
- He's in his office.

- Hello, Michel.
- Hello.

Alright, Denis?

Charles-Henri.

We expected you
on the 11 o'clock train.

My dear Sylvestre,
I came by aeroplane.

An aeroplane.

Young Paul, what are you doing
with your arms in the air?

Imitating an aeroplane.

He could have said he'd come
by plane. We'd have understood.

He thinks we're idiots!

He doesn't know yet.
Tell him, Sylvestre.

Well...

Le Courrier de Vesons
will be distributed

in Paris, Lyon, Marseille,

Bordeaux, Toulouse.
Throughout the country.

My little Paul!

I'll give Germaine a call.

So, in all the kiosks in France,

no one will ask for La Tribune,
Le Figaro or Le Matin,

they'll say: "Le Courrier de Vesons, please."

I've only two words for you:

Well done!

Hello. Germaine?

Yes, he's just arrived.

Have they delivered the turkey?

Just as well.

Tell him my stomach...

FREE SPEECH
Holidays for all

...foie gras for the New Year,
fish on Fridays...

The meaning of our folklore festivals
it rained but it was a success!!!

We came close to disaster.

Don't add the mince until
the onions are golden brown.

Spread half of it over the turkey,
and the rest...

Cheerio.

Go and get cleaned up.

Everyone at mine in an hour.

You should come back more often,
Paul.

Remember our argument?

You wanted the headline:
Paul Kerjean: I'll say "Yes, mayor,

"but only to get married."

You already liked catchy headlines.

How are you getting along?

We're getting divorced.

And Bastien?

I have him every weekend
and for half the holidays.

- I imagine there's no hope.
- No.

I've tried everything.

Madam no longer wants to live
in Paul Kerjean's shadow.

She wants to exist.

When we go out,
the spotlight's on me.

It's not my fault people
want to talk about my latest article

or book.
I reply, that's all.

And there's always a jerk
who comes and says something like:

"I find you so intelligent, madam."

Just because she said: "Would you
be so kind as to pass the salt?"

"You're beautiful, you know."

The supreme word is unleashed.

Words.

Words.
That's what they want.

The city makes you sick, Paul.

Come on.

Well done for your article.

Very good, Mr Guérande,
your article on business tax.

And those bloody buildings
they want to put up?

In the next edition.

Thank you, Julien.

Admit you thought "Well done
for your article" was for you.

That's true.

In Paris, you all think the world
revolves around you.

Here, they don't give a damn
about your Parisian scandals.

Maybe one day,
you'll receive a letter saying:

"The old man's dead".

Tell yourself that I'll have left
with the springtime,

with a wealth of sights and sounds

and a full stomach!

I'll be buried here
with your family,

and on my tomb they'll write:

"Here lies an old happy jerk".

I'll make sure they write:
"He talked of a faraway planet".

Why? Talking about springtime
was ridiculous?

My springtimes are very simple, Paul.

Springtime today is your visit

and a stuffed turkey
just how I like it.

It's waiting for us.

Germaine!

What time was the body found?

A mariner found it this morning
at 6.15 am.

There's no doubt, it's a suicide.

Jacques Benoit-Lambert
shot himself.

We found this next to him,
on the passenger seat.

Mr Kerjean!

Mr Ba yen's waiting
in Mr Hartmann's office.

Come in.

Sit down.

This suicide
confirms your article, Kerjean.

But I don't want us
to act triumphant.

We're not responsible,

but if we continue,
we'll annoy everyone.

We can't persecute a man
when some blame his death on us.

- That's not my opinion.
- Mine neither.

But some think so.

I think we should continue,
Mr Hartmann.

We can't allow ourselves
to drop this

as if we regret having lit
a firecracker that exploded.

We must see it through.

Some questions are unanswered.

Which questions?

JBL couldn't sell off
France Electronics alone.

We must find the others,
this could be far-reaching.

The answer may be in these photos.

Every other night,
this is where JBL went.

16 rue Cisco.

Walter, the private detective
hired by Mrs Benoit-Lambert,

took these photos.

They couldn't be used
for the divorce,

so he stopped taking photos.

He was probably going to see
his mistress.

No, sir, his mistress
doesn't live there.

There's this one,
showing this man from behind.

The only person
I haven't identified.

Listen, Kerjean, we can't imagine
JBL using such means to survive.

This man is dead,
the rest is up to the law

and history.

For me, this is over.

Thank you.

- I've come to see Mr Walter.
- Wait!

Mr Walter is with someone.

Mr Kerjean.

Do me the pleasure
of leaving immediately.

I've nothing to say to you.

I told you everything I knew
the last time we met.

I've nothing to add.

Please leave.

Listen, Kerjean,
I don't have the time.

I'm in a hurry. I have to leave
immediately for a case.

You can understand that, can't you?

Come on, be kind.

- Leave.
- Just 10 minutes. 10 little minutes.

- I don't have time.
- Find it.

Why? There's no reason.

Yes, there is one.

I'll write articles
about private detectives,

the Walter Agency in particular.

You won't have to worry
about your clients.

You'll have a lot of spare time,
to meet them for example.

But...

you're threatening me.

I'm not threatening you.
I'm giving you a choice.

Alright.

But only 10 minutes!

Who did Benoit-Lambert visit,
16 rue Cisco?

Who?

I've no idea.

Ground floor,

a dental practice.

First floor,

a young couple with two children.

They're always traveling.

The husband teaches in the US
6 months a year.

Mr and Mrs Chatillon.

Second floor,

insurance experts.

Third floor,

a retired couple,
Mr and Mrs Holstein.

That's all I know.
Happy now?

And this?

That's Benoit-Lambert
and Laura Weber.

Walter, don't act stupid.
This man here,

who is it?

I have no idea.
I wasn't paid to follow him.

My job concerned Benoit-Lambert
and Laura Weber. That's all.

For how long did you follow them?

Almost until the last day.

Why not until the end?
Were you taken off the case?

No.

So why weren't you there
until the end?

I was.

You were there...
when he killed himself?

Do you want my hide, Kerjean?

I'm trying to find out what happened.

So,

the last evening,

you saw JBL get into his car
and you followed him.

- No!
- That's what you just told me!

No.
That's not what I said.

That night, Benoit-Lambert
left his home with two men.

One got into the back seat
with him,

the other sat at the wheel.

As I was about to follow them,

a van drove by, blocking my view.

When the van had passed,
their car had disappeared.

I'm warning you,
this isn't in my report.

I said I was sick that night
and couldn't follow him.

And that's what I'll say in court

if the case gets that far.

- On oath?
- On oath.

I wasn't there.
I saw nothing.

Who were the men?

I've no idea
and I don't want to know.

What did they look like?

Describe them to me.

Not tall, not small,

not too fat, not too thin,

they were wearing shoes,
trousers,

and raincoats
because it was raining.

Is that enough?

- Did you see their faces?
- You want a photo?

I didn't see anything.

I was parked at a distance,
it was nighttime.

And now, for the love of God,
leave, Kerjean.

And to prove I won't hold this
against you,

I'll give you some friendly advice,

drop this affair,
forget Benoit-Lambert,

go on holiday and leave this town.

Very well.

- That's all for now.
- For now,

or later.

Don't call me, don't come back,

I won't see you, I won't be here.

- So, Bastien, you alright?
- Yes.

- Didn't Rémi come today?
- No.

MARITIME MUSEUM

This boat's lovely, Daddy.
What's it called?

L'Océan.

Come on.

That's the Chebba.

That's right.

Wow!

Bastien,

go to the end of the gallery

and come back the other way.

- You're not coming?
- I'll meet you there.

- Miss Laura Weber?
- Yes, sir.

Thank you for agreeing to meet.

I came because you said
you were a Close friend

of Jacques Benoit—Lambert.

What is this about?

I am not a friend
of Jacques Benoit-Lambert.

I needed to speak with you.

Then who are you?

My name is Paul Kerjean.

Your brazenness
revolts me, Mr Kerjean.

Haven't you done enough harm?

What do you want?
To sully his private life?

Go ahead.

My name is Laura Weber.

I loved him deeply.

Miss!

I understand your reaction.
It's not about his private life.

Please give me a few minutes
and remain calm.

Remain calm?

You have no idea
how much I despise you, sir.

You're a monster.

Between a crossword and a cartoon,
you expose others' lives.

You can't bear being less important
than those you write about.

Daddy!

Don't leave.

Look, it's Napoleon's ship.

Shut up!

- You can't shout in museums.
- Why?

Look and shut up.

- I'm sorry.
- It's disgusting.

You even came with a kid,
to soften me up.

No one's trying to soften you up.

You can be a reporter and a father
taking his son to the museum.

As for the rest,
I just did my job.

No, you were taking care
of your career.

You don't have the guts to admit it.

You're not responsible
for what happened, right?

Miss Weber,

it's possible that Jacques
Benoit-Lambert didn't kill himself.

He was killed?

It appears possible.

What makes you say that?

A number of troubling facts.
I can't talk about that for now.

It may seem absurd,
but I need your help.

If you think I'll help you to write
another article, you're crazy.

Calm down.

There won't be an article.

Or if there is one,
it will be to denounce his murderers.

Anyway, I don't know
how I can help you.

I need to know if he led you
to believe he was in danger.

I talked about his death
that afternoon.

He told me he'd decided
to fight back,

that he'd bring to light a scandal

that concerned a lot of people

and I would be proud
of having trusted him.

Was that the last time
you talked?

No.

He called me around 8:30 pm

to say he was at his place
but that he would come to mine,

to tell me what he intended to do.

He said: "I'll be at yours in half
an hour." He was really happy.

I waited for him.

And who told you?

No one.

It's terrible to hear on TV
that the man you love is dead,

announced by someone
for whom it's just another event

like the weather and the rest.

There, Mr Kerjean.

You can continue shooting arrows
Without wondering where they land.

If you remember anything else,

could you call me?

It's highly unlikely
that I'll call you, Mr Kerjean.

Kerjean.

JBL is dead.

May he rest in peace.

Forget the affair.
Understand?

Forget the affair.

This is Ba yen.

You haven't been in for 2 days.
What the hell?

Hartmann's asking about you.

And I wonder if you still work here.

Your presence here
would reassure everybody,

and would prevent you being fired
for misconduct.

Good evening.

Paul, it's Héléne.

I suppose you'll eat with Bastien.

Please don't bring him back
before 10:30 pm.

I'm going out.

Bastien!

It's party time.
We'll eat in a restaurant

and then we'll watch a film.

There. How about Bambi?

- I've seen it twice.
- Alright.

A film with cowboys and fighting.

Stop.

Shane.

The man from the lost valleys.

- There's a little boy you'll like.
- Does it end well?

It depends for who.

When I grow up,
I want to be a doctor for children.

Wait, it's called a...

A podi... podiatrist.

No, not a podiatrist,

it's...

- A pediatrician.
- That's it.

Apparently, it's a very good job.

Come on, let's go.

Daddy, can I take
my bike to Mum's?

Of course!

Where's your restaurant?

Daddy!

OUT OF SERVICE

Hello, the lift company?

My address is
128 rue de la Convention.

You sent your workers
for the lift maintenance.

They left half an hour ago,
the ground-floor door is blocked

and I've just heard a loud noise
in the shaft.

Yes, number 128.

You didn't send anyone?

Well, I'm not crazy.

- You didn't get my message?
- I did.

I thought we'd agreed,
once and for all...

...our relations would only
concern Bastien. This does.

Indirectly, but I'm here
for Bastien.

What's wrong, darling?

What happened, Bastien?

I broke my bike, Mummy.

It doesn't matter.

Here.

I've a gift for you.

You're crazy. You come over
because of a bike.

I'll explain the situation

when your doc has left.

Go and play in your room, sweetie.

Can I know who told you?

Kids of divorced parents
are always torn

between their father's job
and their mother's lover's.

I don't have the honor of being
at the faculty, so it was easy.

Leave,Paul

Héléne...

I'm really sorry to be a spoilsport,

but I think the party's over.
This is serious.

Stop talking in riddles.

Bastien and I were almost murdered.

What's all this about murder.
Someone tried to kill you?

Yes.

But why?

What's it to do with Bastien?

Nothing.

They're using Bastien
to get at me.

Who's "they"?

I don't know. My research
isn't to the liking of everyone.

The Benoit-Lambert affair?

Yes.

I don't understand.
He killed himself.

That proves it was true.

I don't think he committed suicide.

They used my article to disguise
a killing as suicide.

Why?

So that he couldn't talk.

He was about to.

Do you know
What he was going to say?

Not at all.

But...

they don't know that.

Héléne,

you have to take Bastien away,
for a while.

I suppose there's no point
in asking you to stop investigating.

No, none at all.

Alright.

Tell me where to go.

Thank you.

I knew I was right to marry you.

Hello. Mr Guérande?
It's Paul Kerjean.

No, not great,
but I'll explain later.

Mr Guérande, I need a favour.

Can Héléne and Bastien
stay at yours for a while?

Yes.

No.
Let's call it an enforced holiday.

Can you pick them up
from the station?

The evening train. Yes.

Mr Guérande... Thank you.

And give Germaine a big hug from me.

Please forgive me, Pierre.
I'll call you later.

Héléne, you're sure
there's nothing I can do?

No, nothing.
Don't worry.

Thank you again.

I'm sorry.

I hope your guest didn't think
my arrival was due to jealousy.

Was it...

very important for you?

Nothing is more important
than Bastien.

Mr Kerjean.

We don't see you very often.

- What about your mail?
- In a nutshell.

This is the "insults" pile.

To summarize: "Mr Kerjean,
you chew people's lives up,

"you talk about others,

"coldly, without emotion,
hiding behind your profession...

"You stir up shit," etc, etc.

And what is this?

That's from a gentleman
in the country,

where toilet paper is quite rare,

and this is how your article
will end up.

He added the famous words
of Henri Jeanson:

"I read you this morning,
from behind."

This is the "I loved your article"
pile,

"I greatly enjoyed it. Well done
for being so brave.

"It was extremely interesting,"
etc, etc.

Nothing else?

A young lady came to see you.
Three times.

She didn't want to give her name.

- Is Bayen in his office?
- Oh, yes.

He's always in his office.

Let's forget the niceties:
"You're back, we don't see you often,

"if you still work for us,
let me know, etc."

I'll get straight to the point.

One:

I was almost killed.

They wanted to kill my son and me.

Two:

I'm now certain that Benoit—Lambert
didn't kill himself,

he was killed.

Three:

anyone looking into this
is in danger.

Four: I'm looking into it.

Five: you'll cover me.

Or I'll resign.

"Cover you"?

Not a word to Hartmann.

Officially,
you give me a story such as

"The Cinema Crisis in France".
I have something on that.

We published that last year.

It's still pertinent.
Just change a few commas.

I'll continue investigating,
off the record.

If there's a problem,
you know nothing.

Agreed?

Come in.

Mr Kerjean, she's here.

Who?

The woman who came three times.

This may be my most stupid act,
trusting someone like you...

Miss Weber,
only you can decide on that.

I've no time to convince you
I'm not who you think,

that you can confide in me, etc.

Either you talk to me or you leave.

I've just been burgled.

My apartment was searched
from top to bottom,

the carpets ripped up.

- What did they steal?
- Nothing.

Nothing at all.

It's not a burglary, then.

They didn't find What
they were looking for.

Of course.

But...

do you think
I should inform the police?

What will you tell them?

"I was burgled,
nothing was stolen"?

Now, tell me honestly,

do you have any idea
What they were looking for?

None at all.
Honestly.

A piece of advice,

you're not at risk,
but leave Paris for a while.

I'm going to my sister's
in the country tomorrow.

That's the best thing to do.

Right.

Thank you for trusting me.

Miss Weber,

one last question.

Do you remember this man?
You dined with him one night.

Yes, of course.

It's Michel Saint-Claude,
Jacques' friend.

What does he do?

He's President of a big company
in Europe, I think.

Mr Kerjean, I see you're still
interested in the G.T.I. empire.

Don't you remember?

We met 2 months ago
at the Brussels convention.

It was 4 am and we were pretending
it was 9 pm.

What are you drinking, Mr Kerjean?

I'm torn between
a large whiskey or hot White coffee

with a croissant.

I was charmed by you.

Your arguments were naive,
but full of good sense.

You dared to stand up
to the president.

It was something to be seen.

The napkin in my pocket,

that was you.

It was me.

I took a risk.

Have a seat.
A whiskey?

Mr Saint-Claude,

were you close to Benoit-Lambert?
Were you friends?

We became friends.

Gradually.

I liked Jacques a lot.

And I think he felt the same.

Did you slip him notes too?

Something like that.

But it cost me my job.

What happened?

You know...

to understand the workings
of a multinational like G.T.I.,

you must attend one
of their marathon conferences

that start at 10 am
and finish at midnight.

Once a month, the president
leaves New York in his Boeing

with 40 of his closest employees.

They fly to Brussels.

There, on the 18th floor
of the G.T.I. building,

the branch mangers
are put in the hot seat.

It's a terrifying experience.

A supernatural event.

That morning, we were looking
at the results of a branch, Texlico.

The results were disappointing.

The figures in the "real" column,

the real annual figures,

compared to the "forecast" column,
the budget,

clearly showed that the goals
were not achieved.

The accusing arrow showed that sales
had dropped by 2.6%,

despite almost 74 million dollars

invested in research
and development.

Overheads had increased by 8.6%.

Profits had dropped
by 36 million dollars,

29.41% less than the objective.

In such meetings, the monarch
reigning over the company

checks if his employees
walk the line.

He wants to see their faces
when they present their accounts.

Some managers
were on the brink of fainting,

others drank for 24 hours.

I was a manager hardened by the years

and I waited calmly
for him to attack.

We are only American
with Americans.

We've always known how to be European
with the Europeans

and French, of course,
with the French.

We are here to coordinate

and make our subsidiaries profit
from our international structure.

Don't tire yourself out, Neil.

The newspapers explain that well
to the French.

To them, we are a foreign company
wanting to set up in France,

to avoid the tax borders
of the Common Market

and to profit from the advantages
reserved for French companies.

What's a press campaign?
Two days, one week.

An event in Africa
or the Middle East,

an election in view and it's over.

I talked about
two main reasons earlier.

The second is the president
of French Electronics.

Benoit-Lambert is stubborn.
He won't capitulate.

We have bought Benoit-Lambert.

No.

For now, you have only bought
his son-in-law.

We've bought a lousy company
called SCOVIM,

represented by the son-in-law
and Benoit-Lambert.

The son-in-law is worthless,

so it's clear to everyone
that if we paid 1.75 billion,

it was for Benoit-Lambert.

He's condemned
to a certain reciprocity

in the affair that interests us.

If he makes a move...

it'll be a scandal.

He'll make a move.

Mr Saint-Claude,
to buy a man with power,

three conditions are required.

One: make sure he can be bought
and pay the price.

Two: guarantee absolute
and total discretion.

Three: eliminate any remorse

by cunningly suggesting

he is acting
in his country's interest.

They're usually very receptive
to that kind of suggestion.

We have respected
the first two conditions.

You've failed on the third.

The people we buy know they're
not acting in national interest.

They pretend to believe it.

Benoit-Lambert refuses to Cheat.

There is a fourth condition
that escaped you, sir.

The meeting began
with "My dear Michel",

and ended with "Mr Saint-Claude".

In G.T.I. language,
that meant I was fired.

How do you explain
Benoit-Lambert's behaviour?

He was given an enormous bribe
by your company

for a service he refused to render.

I think he let us pay so that
he could prove the scandal.

I think your company outran him.

They used me to destroy
Benoit-Lambert's reputation

and they got rid of him
to prevent him from talking.

You're getting ahead of yourself.

The company was one step ahead
of Benoit-Lambert for the scandal.

But not to the point of killing.

No.

G.T.I. isn't the Mafia!

Do you know this building?

16 rue Cisco.

There's a dental practice
on the ground floor.

Doctor Riéra.

On the first floor, the Chatillons.

Second floor, an insurance expert,
Robert Duroc.

Third floor, Mr and Mrs Holstein.

No, nothing rings a bell.

Never mind.

Thank you.

Wait!

I think there was a Holstein
at G.T.I.

He was manager of Austria.

Around 1935.

But there's probably no connection.

Thank you.

I'm Joachim Holstein.
I was G.T.I.'s manager for Austria

from 1930 to 1938.

I don't see how I can help you.

You knew Jacques Benoit-Lambert?

I've read about him in the press,
but I didn't know him personally.

Mr Holstein,

the man you claim not to know

was photographed a dozen times
entering this building.

There's a dental practice
and an insurance expert here,

people come and go.

The Chatillons
have been away for 5 months,

the dental practice closes at 7pm,
the insurance company at 6pm.

Each time, Mr Benoit-Lambert
was photographed

entering the building at 9 pm
and leaving at midnight.

Mr Kerjean, no doubt you've a
good reason for solving this mystery,

but I repeat that your problem
has nothing to do with us.

No one visits us but our son
and daughter-in-law.

Very well.

In that case,
I apologise for bothering you.

Mr Holstein,

I'm convinced you know something,
but don't want to tell me.

I've no way of proving
my good faith,

and you've no reason to believe me,

but, you see,

great things have often occurred
because two men,

face to face,
looked at one another

and seized that indefinable moment

that is trust.

Without reason, without logic.

I think we missed that moment,
Mr Holstein.

That was a lovely speech, Mr Kerjean.

But it concerns great men.

I'm just a little man
who will die soon.

Mr Kerjean.

Please come up,
I'd like to tell you something.

- My wife.
- Hello, sir.

Should I conclude that
my indefinable moment was delayed?

No. My eyesight is not good enough
to spot a fleeting moment.

I just suppose that if you were
one of those who killed Jacques,

you would not have left
Without acting violently.

I see that your brain is still alert.

Nothing wrong there, thank you.

Right, then.

They killed him an hour too early.

Jacques Benoit-Lambert came
to collect an important file,

they thought he already had it.

- Who is "they"?
- I've no idea.

It's obviously those
concerned by the file.

I don't think so.
Not directly.

Have a seat.

This file, Mr Kerjean,

is the history, during Word War II,

of a giant economic empire
called G.T.I.

I think this fragment of the past
will explain the present.

Sit next to me.

New York Times,
August 41933.

For the first time,
Adolf Hitler received

a delegation of American
businessmen at Berchtesgaden.

Hitler received the president
of G.T.I.,

Arnold C. Adams.

Look.

When questioned by the press
after this meeting,

Adams simply replied:

"Gentlemen, all I can say is that
Mr Adolf Hitler is impeccably dressed

"and he is a true gentleman."

The real reason for Adams
meeting with the Nazis

was discovered after the war,
in 1946,

during the interrogation
of general 88 Kurt von Schroeder,

who provided funding for the Gestapo.

Kurt von Schroeder,

from 1933 until war was declared,

you presided the board
of the American company G.T.I.

Who appointed you?

The president of G.T.I.,
Mr Arnold Adams.

Developing G.T.I.'s business
in Germany.

Reorganizing the subsidiaries

and signing new arms contracts.

From 1933 to 1939, thanks to you,

G.T.I. was given preferential
treatment by the Nazis,

as opposed to all other foreign
companies who were expropriated.

Why was the American company G.T.I.
not nationalized?

By nationalizing G.T.I.,
we would only gain a few factories.

But by keeping these factories
as German subsidiaries of G.T.I.,

we received all the American and
international high-technology patents

of which we were in great need.

Rapidly,
the balance sheets of G.T.I. Germany

showed immense profits.

How were these profits used?

In 1934,

I suggested to Mr Adams
to transfer the profits to America.

He said that he preferred to invest
in other German arms companies.

That's What I did.

We built new factories

with some of the profits,

and invested the rest in 32%
of the shares of Focke-Wulf.

It should be pointed out
that Focke-Wulf

was the company that manufactured
the German bombers.

In your opinion, Mr Schroeder,

Why did G.T.I. invest its profits
in the Nazi war machine?

It was obvious that G.T.I.
and its president Adams

believed in a German victory.

Dr Gerhardt Kramer, you were
the director of the G.T.I. factories

in Germany
and the occupied countries

from 1933 until the end of the war.

Yes.

In 1938, after the Anschluss,
Germany invaded Austria.

G.T.I.'s factories were subject

to the expropriation
of foreign companies

and the confiscation
of their property.

G.T.I.'s factories were spared
once again. Why?

Yes, I suggested
that G.T.I.'s factories benefit

from German nationality.

In total agreement
with President Adams?

Yes, of course.

G.T.I. became a German factory,

and you fired the director,
Joachim Holstein,

because he was a Jew.

I did not fire Joachim Holstein.

We will hear his testimony.

I was fired in 2 minutes.

Arnold Adams came into my office.
I looked him in the face.

For the first time,
he avoided eye contact.

He said: "Dear Joachim, I'm so sorry
about What's happening to you."

What's to be done?

It's not G.T.I.'s fault
if the world is divided into two.

By dealing with Hitler, I protect
our shareholders' interests

and prevent our subsidiaries
from being nationalized.

I'm sure we will meet again
very soon.

I never saw him again.

Doctor Kramer,
after the Americans entered WWII,

in Germany,
you continued to receive

military equipment
and raw materials from G.T.I.?

Excuse me, was that a question?

The answer is yes.

This equipment was manufactured
in the G.T.I. factory in Spain.

They shipped it to us.

What do you think
of G.T.I.'s behaviour during the war?

I think Mr Kurt von Schroeder
can answer that better than me.

May I remind you, sir,
that we are not American, but German.

Your question insinuates that G.T.I.
betrayed its country.

It served ours,
and that was enough for us.

Thus,

German bombers manufactured
in Focke-Wulf's factories

with G. T. I. 's investments

bombed the Allies' ships.

G. T. I. also supplied the Allies

with Huff-Duff
radio direction finders

to protect them
from German submarines.

But the position of the Allies' ships

was relayed to the German submarines
by cables

installed by G. T. I.

At that level, it's not business,
it's surrealism.

You can call President Adams
What you like, but he was no poet.

When he saw that Allied victory
was inevitable, he changed sides.

He put G.T.I. to work
for the Allies alone.

And in a colonel's uniform,

he accompanied the victorious army
through Western Europe to Germany,

and oversaw in person
the reopening of his factories.

But...

it's unbelievable. After the war,
no one spoke out to...

There were several.

The Justice Department issued
an indictment

of heavy charges.

The indictment is dated
March 10, 1947.

It was never signed
and there was no trial.

This is when it is no longer surreal,

but Kafkaesque.

In 1967, the American government

paid 27 million dollars

in compensation for war damages
to G.T.I.'s factories in Germany,

and 5 million dollars

for Focke—Wulf's bomber factories,

on the pretext that it was
American property

destroyed by Allied bombings.

And President Adams
was never indicted?

Arnold Adams died in 1963.

In his bed.

He was awarded the highest
American distinction,

France made him
Grand Officer of the Legion of Honour

and Belgium made him
Commander of the Order of Leopold.

There.

It took me 40 years
to compile this dossier.

There are all the patent numbers,

and the plans supplied to both
the Germans and the Allies.

750 testimonies.

The minutes of every trial,

G.T.I.'s accounts during the war,

every bribe uncovered.

Does anyone know you have this file?

No one, because Benoit-Lambert
is dead.

It's for you.

Read it carefully and you will find
the key to the mystery.

But beware
of making hasty conclusions.

Thank you for your trust.

It's a poisoned chalice, you know.

Before you take it,
you must be aware

that until this is made public,

until it's published,
you'll either be in danger...

or a billionaire.

Reasonably and logically,

What do you think I'll do,
Mr Holstein?

You're hesitating?

No.

I'm looking.

How did you put it?

That indefinable moment
that is trust,

without reason,

and logic.

I guess I should put
my hands in the air.

Isn't that what you do
in such situations?

That's right.

Go and sit over there.

How shameful.

For months, an organization
of professionals

has been trying to discover
What Benoit-Lambert was up to.

What bomb he wanted to explode.

And it's an amateur,
a little reporter,

who discovers the truth.

You can always say
you discovered it, because...

I imagine you'll get rid of me.

Of course.

Tell me your name.
You owe me that.

My name is Hankins.
Stan Hankins.

Whatever.
A stupid question.

Like your behaviour in this affair.

Yes, I know.

First, you used me
to destroy JBL morally

and make him suicidal.

That was where my role ended.

Exact.

You wanted your role to continue,
and you're not up to it.

You'll disappear,
having understood nothing.

You're wrong.

A few minutes ago,
I put the pieces together.

One:

Why an economic empire
like G.T.I. is hell-bent on acquiring

the little French Electronics,

when they have the same factories
but better.

Because the laws of its country

prevent it from obtaining
the huge market

of a state,

that I will call X.

They look for a country who has
no problem with the state X

from where he could supply his client

Without being bothered.
The country is France,

the factory already exists.

French Electronics will be a cover.

Two:

the usual procedure of bribes
is not enough,

so G.T.I. tells its client X:

"I can supply you,

"but there is an obstacle
I can't overcome."

Three:

the state X in question

orders its secret services
or a similar organization

to remove the obstacle.

And...

a man,

called Hankins for this mission,

comes to France.

And state X

is...

Second stupid question.

What a shame.

A piece is missing from my puzzle.

We lost your trace 2 days ago,
due to a technical error.

No, I lost the men following me.

Tell them that the building
I entered

had 2 exits.
- Whatever.

During those 2 days,
you got your hands on this file.

Who gave it to you?

Ah, right.

Now I understand why you weren't
"expeditious" from the start.

Stay where you are!

Who gave you this file?

May I ask you

how your little sister is?

That means
you don't want to answer.

There you go.

I no longer have the monopoly
of stupid questions.

You're wrong, Mr Kerjean.

We can negotiate.

Negotiate what?

Your life.

In exchange for a name
and an address.

And the only guarantee
you'll give me is your word.

You're in no position
to make demands.

Having said that,
think for a moment.

You know that the man you name

will be subject to some, let's say,
unpleasant moments.

You'll no longer represent
a danger for us.

You won't boast about
exchanging your life for his.

You know that if I disappear,
I'm not alone.

The newspaper and my team
know about my investigation.

They'll want to know
what happened.

We've thought about all that,
Mr Kerjean.

There's a little letter

that explains everything.

You're down,
suffering from depression.

You invented information,
falsified documents.

You never got over
the part you played

for Benoit-Lambert's death.

You typed this on your own typewriter

before killing yourself.

That's right.

Well?

I won't be able to write it...

I accept

Give me some paper.
I'll write it.

Hello?

Hello, Bayen, it's Paul Kerjean.

The one time I go to bed early!
Really!

I tried to contact you all week.
Where were you?

Listen, it's urgent
and I haven't got long,

I have to leave Paris for a while.

What's wrong?

I've just killed a man.

What! Who? Where?

I haven't got time to explain.

Tonight,

I just want you to know
I have an explosive dossier

and the whole truth about
the Benoit-Lambert affair.

I need at least six pages
in Monday's edition.

Sort that out with Hartmann.

When will your article be ready?

If I can stay awake,
I'll write it tonight.

Then I'll accept everything.
The police,

a trial, judges,
but first, the article.

Where are you?
Where can I call you?

I'll call you.
Good evening.

Hello.

Mr Guérande, it's Paul.

Paul!

We haven't heard from you...

I couldn't call
Without putting you at risk.

- How is Bastien?
- Fine. He's already in bed.

Tell Helene I'm grateful
for her patience

and that she can return
to Paris soon.

How are you, Paul?

Fine. I'm alright.

Mr Guérande,
I need one last favour.

I'll be at the Sirene Hotel
in Saint-Paul-le-Village at 2 am.

It's about 30 kilometers
from Vesons.

- Exactly 35.
- That's right.

I need a typewriter,
a lot of paper...

Oh, no!

I won't have the strength to type.
Have you got a recorder?

The little one you gave me last year.

I'm ashamed, Paul,
I've never used it.

Perfect. Ask Sylvestre
or someone from the paper

to bring me that
and 10 cassettes to the Siréne Hotel.

Of course.

Paul, what's going on?

I'll tell you everything,
Mr Guérande.

Don't forget, the Siréne Hotel
in Saint-Paul-le-Village.

And a “We of coffee.
Lots of coffee...

Thank you.

I'd like a room.

How many nights?

Three or four nights.

Room 26, second floor.

Room 17 wouldn't happen to be free?

Yes, but it's a double.
Do you mind?

That's fine.

Someone will bring me
a parcel. Please tell...

Someone's waiting for you.

My poor Héléne,

I've been a pain
from start to finish.

Paul, please!

Why did you choose this hotel?

I needed a godforsaken place
far from Paris

and not too close to you,
to avoid trouble.

What's going on, Paul?

I'm going to spend the night
on an article. A very long one.

You can read all about it on Monday.

Is that all you can tell me?

Yes, because it's complicated

and a very long story.

- Are you expecting someone?
- I hope not.

- Room 17 is just a coincidence?
- That's right.

I'm staying with you tonight.

- Listen, Héléne...
- I'll keep out of your way.

You won't even know I'm here.

I'm not going to learn the news
from the paper.

Title in bold characters:

A thousand billion dollars.

My name is Paul Kerjean.

I'm a special correspondent.

It's a grand title because we go
where the events take place,

where men are fighting

and die.

Tonight,

I survived the most pitiless war,

the economic war,

Where generals wear
expensive striped suits

and their weapon

is a classy briefcase.

Behind three discreet initials,

a letter, dot, a letter, dot,
a letter, dot,

hides the biggest machine
to crush borders,

states, collective interests,

with the simple goal
of producing more,

forever creating new markets

and to sell!

I was confronted

with this challenge to the world.

If the dynamics
and globalization of business

is in the nature of things,

it is barely tolerable
that it profits

thirty companies in the world.

States and their governments

should control them,
anticipate them,

define them and dominate them...

Given the absence of this policy
or a lack of desire,

these economic empires
look down upon us,

in all legality, from their summits.

They look at us
with our little flags,

our borders, our big bombs,

our patriotism, our ideologies,

our quarrels and our folklore,

while at the bottom
of their annual balance sheets

is written
a thousand billion dollars.

You know,

room 17 wasn't a coincidence.

Do you remember?

Everything.

Leaving after the ceremony,

your delight in discovering Venice,

the car breaking down
35 kilometers from Vesons,

walking 3 kilometers to Saint-Paul,

the Siréne Hotel,

room 17,

the blown lightbulb, unpacking,

you laughing hysterically
when I searched for you in the dark!

You've finished typing it?

Paul, what happened to us?

One day, Mr Guérande told me

that the city made us sick.

- La Tribune?
- I'm listening.

Pierre Ba yen for Paul Kerjean.

- This is Bayen.
- Bayen...

my article's finished.

Where are you?

It doesn't matter.
You'll get it this morning.

Tell me Where you are.
Don't you trust me?

I don't trust telephones.

Did you talk to Hartmann?
He'll publish it on Monday?

Listen, Kerjean,

I'm with Mr Hartmann.

You're causing him problems.

You must come and see him.

I won't come back
until my article's published.

If Hartmann wants to speak to me,
put him on the phone.

Why do you refuse to come, Paul?

As a precaution.

Listen, you're tired, overworked,
this investigation has exhausted you,

you see danger everywhere,
killers on your heels,

murders.
Believe me, you've nothing to fear.

Come and see me.
We'll talk calmly,

and you'll see you've nothing
to worry about.

It's not true!
You're treating me like a fool.

I didn't talk about madness,
but about working too hard.

You explain that very well
in the letter we found at yours

on the typewriter.

If you found that letter,

you found the body of the man
who came to kill me.

Hello...

Paul, we contacted the police,

and they went to yours
this morning.

You see!

There was no body
in your living room,

no blood, no mess.

But they found your letter.

His accomplices cleaned up!

Yes, of course...

Mr Hartmann,

listen to me.

I nearly died investigating,

and until my article is published,
I'm still in danger.

I don't have time to explain,
but I'm asking you to trust me.

I have an explosive 700—page dossier
that proves everything in my article.

Bring me the dossier
and your article.

I will ask a calmer colleague

to Check it out
and I'll see what I can do.

I won't publish
your article on Monday.

Alright.
I'll give it to someone else.

In your shoes,
I wouldn't do that, Paul.

Everyone will wonder
Why we didn't publish it.

They'll ask us, check your dossier
and the result will be the same.

Listen, bring us everything
and go and rest,

that's what you need.

Tell me, Mr Hartmann,

are you sure that LaTribune
doesn't belong to G.T.I.?

Your question is stupid
and insulting!

There you go.

Héléne...

I'm done for.

They'll publish your article.

Stop it, it's useless.

You know them. They don't want
to stick their necks out.

Promise not to leave this room
until I call you.

That's all I ask.

Héléne!

Helene, you're going
into the eye of the storm.

Let me try, Paul,
What's the risk?

Don't move from here, I'll call you.

Hello?

Paul, it's Héléne.

Are you crazy?

You left at 9am, it's midnight.
What happened?

Your article will be in every kiosk
in France on Monday.

400,000 copies.

Don't tell me the name of the paper.

Let me guess.

400,000 copies is...

No, not at all.

No.

You're not even close.

No. Don't wear yourself out,
you'll never guess.

Listen to something
that will give you a clue...

Le Courrier de Vesons.

But you said 400,000 copies.

Guérande used 14 months' worth
of paper for one edition.

For just your article,
on 6 pages.

Happy?

Héléne, you're...

You're wonderful!

Poor Mr Guérande,

he wanted to differ
from the Parisian press.

Germaine, you're in the way...

Just listen to him!

- Faster, Sylvestre, faster.
- I can't go any faster.

He's having a great time.
Want to talk to him?

No. I wouldn't really know
what to say to him.

He's got me out of a real mess.

See you later, Paul.

Hello...
Don't hang up.

Are you with someone?

Who would I be with in this room?

No, I mean...

Is there anyone in your life?

No.

And with what's happened,
if there was,

they'd have given me the boot
a long time ago.

Perhaps you could stay with us
for a while.

Bastien would be so happy.

Well, if it would
make Bastien happy...

I agree.

What do you want to do afterwards?

Paul, are you still there?

Yes, I'm still here.

I was thinking about
What you asked me.

Afterwards...

well, afterwards,

I think I'll try to join
the human race.

Come quickly!

Subtitles: ECLAIR V&A