All language subtitles for The Art of Crime.S02E03.Un.homme.blesse.Part.01.1080p.BluRay.FLAC2.0.x264-SbR_track6_[eng]

You can't stay like that, Antoine.

Snap out of it

and start remembering
a few art notions

-or you...
-Or what?

Or what? You're going to fire me?

Just say it, you want

-to fire me?
-I wouldn't give you cases.

You could ask a suspect for

the address of the Avignon ladies!

-Whose address?
-Wait.

-That's not helping.
-Calm down, OK?

Things like dyslexia
or dyscalculia are treatable,

so I don't see why we couldn't

cure someone who is "dysartistic".

See, we'll figure it out.

Right...

We need to find the right therapy.

No, wait. What therapy?
I'm not going to spend hours talking

to an asshole with glasses
lying on a couch.

There's a bunch of ways.

There's sophrology, hypnosis,

-somatherapy, physiotherapy...
-Somatherapy?

Somatherapy?
What kind of crap is that?

Don't you trust me, captain?

I'm sure I'll find a way for you, OK?

You don't have a choice, Antoine.
You need to get better.

You need to see this, captain.

It just came in the mail.

What is it?

GPS coordinates, apparently.

-I can see that, but for what?
-I don't know.

It looks like someone
wants to meet you.

Le Coup de dame.

That's nuts.
Like I don't have anything to do.

-It's pretty though.
-Yes, it's beautiful.

What's the name of the painting
again? Le Coup de?

De dame!

One of Gustave Courbet's
first paintings.

Look, the one on the left with
the pipe and the hat, smiling.

It's him, Gustave.

-It's Gustave Courbet.
-Great.

I don't care, do you?

I'm just trying to help.

I think your guy is already there.

Yeah, he better have
a good explanation.

Excuse me.

Sir?

Did you send me this card?

Sir?

Oh shit!

He's dead.

It's Le Désespéré.

What?

Another painting by Courbet.

Is there something on the back?

"Your turn to play."

THE ART OF CRIME

A WOUNDED MAN
PART 1

So, what do we have?

He died this morning
between 7 and 9 a.m.

That's when the park opens.

The killer mailed
the first card yesterday.

It's weird, it's like he calculated
the time and place of his crime.

What the fuck is he doing?
It's like he's challenging us.

Like he's challenging you!
He sent it to you, right?

You mean personally?

You think he'd send me paintings
if he knew me?

No.

I don't even know the victim.

Henri what? Henri Courcelles.

You know him?

He's an art dealer, isn't he?

Specializing in oriental antiques.

-Right?
-Yeah, that's right.

See, you know more than I do.
What did he do?

I think his name came up
in several fraud cases.

What if he defrauded the killer

who decided to challenge us
thinking we didn't do our job?

-It's possible, right?
-It is.

It would be connected to Courbet?

All right. I'll go through the cases
where Courcelles is mentioned.

Go through his office.

Question his staff.
I'm sure he has an assistant.

"I admired you for ten years

"Now, I want to crush you,

"smash your head against
the ground until your eyeballs

"pop out of it."

Isn't it your handwriting?

-It is.
-OK.

Why were you so angry with your boss?

Did he fire you
for a younger assistant?

-A thinner one.
-Excuse me?

He didn't find me presentable.

You spent ten years serving him
and covering his scams,

only to fire you
because of your weight?

He couldn't handle
my new body anymore.

I lost confidence in myself. He did
everything he could to make me leave.

He humiliated you, right?

And you wanted to make him pay?

I didn't kill him. It just made me
feel better to write this.

I couldn't say it to his face.

Why would she have chosen
your paintings?

We wear the same size?

I was insulted for my looks as well.

I've been caricatured so much.

You did provoke them, no?

I wanted to be recognized.

My art and I.

I wanted to change everything,
show real people,

with real bodies, real faces.

Sure, as well as
shocking the rich a little too.

When we're no longer controversial,

we no longer matter.

I don't understand why
she used these postcards.

Excuse me?

OK. She hates Courcelles,

but why provoke us?

It doesn't make sense to me.

We found this at your place.

It looks like you like postcards
with paintings, right?

Yes, I buy them in museums.

Yeah, right.

Weird, we found the same
on Courcelles' body.

What's the message?
That you were desperate? Is that it?

What? No.

So, what's your deal
with the postcards?

I can't believe I'd go to jail
just because of the money paid?

We're getting somewhere now.
What money?

What do you mean?

Are you taking me for a fool?

Stop lying to me!

We know you were involved
in Courcelles' scams.

Who was that money for?

I swear, I don't know
what you're talking about.

What money?

You have to talk.

Or else you'll get life.
Do you understand?

I swear, I told you
everything I know. I didn't do it.

Antoine, Antoine, Antoine.

-What?
-Can I have a moment?

Yes.

I'll be back.

What is it?

What are you doing?

We have to keep pressing her.

She's about to talk about the money.

Antoine. There's no money.

What do you mean?

She was telling you
about her postcard.

The title of the painting is
Money Paid.

I don't understand.

Georges de La Tour is a painter,
do you remember?

And the money on the table

is the Money Paid. That's the money.

Fuck.

We can't keep doing this.

It's like giving a color-blind guy

traffic duty.

-Oh come on, Alex.
-No, no, no.

You're a great cop Antoine,

but as long as you don't know
anything about art,

until you climb your own wall, you
can't do interrogations on your own.

What do you mean?

It means Mrs. Chassagne
will do interrogations with you.

Me?

That's ridiculous, she doesn't
know anything about it.

Maybe, but at least she'll
keep you from saying

anything stupid about art.

Are you making any progress
with his therapy?

-I'm still looking.
-Time to find one.

It's urgent at this point.

Yes?

A courier just left this for you,
Captain.

Thanks, Marco.

A game piece?

The checkers game.

Show us the tape, please.

Can we see his face?

No, he didn't remove his helmet.

Look, there.

He's taunting us here, the bastard.

Let me see.

"It's a miss, Verlay.
Let that poor innocent woman go.

"Since I'm nice, I'll give you a hint
about my next move:

"'I'm going back to the deer,
the furious one'.

"You know Courbet, don't you?"

Why does he say you know Courbet?

I don't know, I don't have a clue.

This guy's a fucking lunatic.

What does "I'm going back to the
deer, the furious one" mean?

I don't know.

Courbet painted many
hunting scenes with deer.

That's where we have to look.

There's nothing.

He also makes a reference
to water, right?

-Yeah.
-OK, let me try something.

OK, got it.

The French for deer is "Biche"
and it's a stream.

Same for furious and "Furieuse".

They both come from a river
whose source is in the Doubs.

-Courbet lived around there, right?
-The source...

The Source is another
of Courbet's paintings.

The killer is telling us
to go see it.

It's at the Orsay museum.

I'm telling you,
he's not addressing me.

And Courbet doesn't ring a bell,
not a damn thing.

Gustave Courbet, realism,
no, nothing?

That's it. Does that
mean anything to you?

No, no, I'm sorry.

Aside from these ridiculous hats,
nothing.

They are the inhabitants
of his village, Ornans.

See that big frame?

Painters used them to

paint mythological
or historical scenes.

Courbet used it to paint
an everyday scene.

It's a funeral.

He paints the truth
without embellishing it.

Ornans, realism, Courbet.

Does it ring a bell at all?

No, sorry, no bells, nothing.

Wait, I'm sorry but...

is that supposed to be realism?

The Origin of the World.

It was hidden for 130 years,
before being exposed here.

No wonder.

It's beautiful, no?

Yes, yes.

Are you coming?
The Source is here.

What? Yes, yes.

What's the...?

Is there a certain meaning...?

The Source, it's a common subject
in paintings.

It's an allegory.

OK. What's that?

Is she some kind of ugly chick?
Is that it?

No.

No, her waist was slim

and her hips were wide
from wearing corsets.

OK.

OK, so what does this allegory
have to do with our murder?

I'm at a loss.

You don't get it?

No.

You always have a ton to say,
but nothing this time?

No, I've got nothing here.

Calm down.

The killer meant that clue for you.

No! I keep telling you.

He's not talking to me.

Who cares?

What's that?

Another set of GPS coordinates.

There's no way

he would lead us to a body
in such a place.

It doesn't make sense.

He's even crazier
than I thought if it's the case.

A courthouse!

-Hello.
-Hello, come in. And her?

-She's with me.
-Go ahead.

I think it's here.

His father left

when he was 12...

12.

He left his six children.

Seeing his poor mother kill herself
working to feed them,

as a good son,
my client wanted to help her.

Is it a crime to want
to help your mother?

And look at her.

Look at this courageous mother.

This tired mother,

devastated by grief. She's here.

She's here to support her son,

who was always there for her.

All he's ever done in life

was for her.

And she knows,

as we do, that he took a wrong turn.

But she forgave him.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,
please,

forgive her too.

My client never wanted
to kill the jeweler.

He only wanted a ring

for his mother's birthday.

I am done, Mr. President.

It's awesome, he's fearless.

The worst part is that he could win.

Do you know him?

It's my father.

You still don't think
the killer's talking to you?

I think I really got them at the end.

Yeah.

As for the pleading part, well...

Well, it'd be nice
if he'd stop his crap.

-Well, see you later.
-Bye.

-I'll let you know.
-Bye.

Wait a moment.

Mr. Toussaint.

Police.
Could I ask you a few questions?

Ah, the police.
Well, it's about time.

So, what's the surprise?

What do you mean? What surprise?

I don't know.
I got a text this morning.

A hidden number.

"The police will come see you today.

"Prepare to be surprised."

I don't mind,
but what's the surprise?

Whoever sent you this

probably killed an art dealer,
Henri Courcelles.

Do you know him?

Not at all.

So, that's it?

No, I would need
to identify the sender.

I'd like your phone if it's possible.

A lawyer's phone? Are you serious?

Do you have a warrant?

You're the same.

I'm sorry?

Do I know you?

You could say that.

Antoine Verlay.

You're starting to remember me.

You're a cop.

Surprise.

Ah, that was it.

I don't like your guy's
sense of humor.

I'll tell him,
but I need your phone.

It would have been
my pleasure my son, but no.

You'll need to get a warrant.

While you erase
your dirty deeds from it?

Oh, come on.

Let's not spoil this emotional
reunion, keep it professional, OK?

Forgive me, but I must go.
See you soon, Antoine.

Where did I put my keys?

The other hand.

What?

Nothing.

OK, look, my parents
divorced when I was 9.

My father never tried to
see me again. There you go.

Great story, right?

Forget about it.

You looked like
you'd seen him plead before.

Yeah.

I went to see him once.

I was a teenager.

I had told myself
a lot of things about him.

That he was a great lawyer defending
widows and orphans, all that.

A child's dream.

He didn't know I was there.

I always had my mother's name,
and that day, I thought that...

That it was for the best.

To find out that he

is my father,
he'd have to bribe an official.

It's a process.

What's his game? I don't get it.

He's been planning for a long time.

He won't stop there.

He has something in mind.
Something about you.

You and Gustave Courbet.

I don't get it.

We might found out more

once we get a warrant
for your dad's phone.

I'll call the DA to get you off
the investigation.

Wait, what? Why?

Antoine, he's your dad.

You can't stay on the case.

What am I supposed to do?

Stay here and get postcards?

Plus, he's after me, Alex.

OK?

-That's how we'll catch him.
-It's for the DA to decide.

Do you have anything else?

No, just this fucking text message.

And the piece of tape?

What piece of tape?

The piece of tape we found at Orsay.

Maybe it has prints?

Of course, I spaced, here it is.

-I'll send it to the lab.
-Leave it to me, I'll do it.

You need to discuss your therapy
with Mrs. Chassagne.

-Are you sure?
-Yes.

-I think it's good.
-We can do it tomorrow?

No, we can do it now.

Fuck.

I'm sure drawing can free you up.

It's called art therapy.

Go ahead.

-Art therapy.
-Yeah, go ahead, draw something.

Drawing is really not my thing.

I wasn't raised in the middle
of works of art.

My mom took me straight
home after school.

We didn't go to museums.

I'm not asking for a masterpiece.

Just go for it.

OK. Don't think about it.

Forget I'm here.

I'm sick of it.

Well.

It's very interesting.

Are you kidding me?

Not at all, it really is interesting.

Forget the drawing.

Let's look at the color.

You chose black.

We're going to look at the symbolism
of black in my color book.

So.

Black represents grief,

authority

and death.

Well...

What does that color mean to you?

Nothing.

Nothing?

Have you seen anything black lately?

I see you coming.
If you want to talk about my father

in his lawyer's dress, it's....

Well, of course.

-Are you busy?
-I told her to wait, but...

I tried to think of excuses for you.
But I see now.

-Fuck, it's Tuesday.
-Antoine?

Antoine is such a good dad now.

Something serious

must have happened.

Laurie, I'm sorry.

The kids waited for you
for an hour at the school.

They're waiting for you.

Tell them you were coloring.

It's not coloring, it's art...

Don't turn round.

Don't turn round.

You shouldn't trust Captain Verlay,
Mrs. Chassagne.

He's lying to you.

He's using you.

If I were you, I would leave
the OCBC as soon as possible.

He knows where I live.
I can't go home.

OK, listen.

We'll assign someone to your place.

He would have already hurt you

if he wanted to.

What did he say?

That I should stop working with you
because

you're lying.

How do you mean?

I don't know.

He said you're using me.

I'm using you?

That's bullshit, he's a crazy.

Hello?

Find him. OK, thanks.

We identified a print on the tape.

Keep your hands off me!

What are you doing?
Keep your hands off me!

-Sit down!
-Fuck.

You're discriminating against me.

I'll call the Racism helpline.

What are you doing?

What have I done?

If Medhi snitched,
I don't do weed no more.

It's bad for you.

Is it the voice?

It's not him.

He had a much more unique voice.

He was eloquent.

He's implicated in the murder

one way or the other.

He has a record,

he's been busted for theft,
possession,

dealing, etc.

Alright. Showtime.

Absolutely.

Wait.

You agree to follow my lead, right?

We'll let him talk
and you'll only intervene

if he's trying to
confuse me about art.

He's not the type, but I still want
to establish some ground rules.

You know me.

I don't know him.

He had a complaint?

On my mother's life,
I don't know the guy.

OK. How about this?

Is that familiar?

He's weird with his goatee.

Did he smoke too much?

They're paintings by Gustave Courbet.
He's a painter.

Courbet?

You know him?

Yeah.

The guy who does porn
in museums, right?

What?

Is that why I'm here?

Cause I put the fat girl's pussy
on Facebook?

-Pussy?
-Yeah.

-The Origin of the World?
-Yeah, that's the one.

Seriously, if the Internet blocks

my pictures, why put them in museums?

There are naked chicks everywhere.

It's Youporn, a whorehouse.

Stop it!

They're masterpieces.

Mrs. Chassagne calm down.

No, no Mrs. Chassagne,

no more playing around.

Show a little respect!

A little respect for Courbet,
for his paintings!

A little respect for art!

And for the dead,

because he's dead,
that's why you're here!

-What?
-So what, huh?

I have nothing to do with this!

-I did nothing!
-Mrs. Chassagne?

-Yes?
-May I have a moment?

I have something for you.

Fuck.

No, wait...

I'll put pussy on your Facebook.

She's crazy!

-Did you see that?
-Yes. Yes.

It's not your fault, but

I don't think interrogations
are meant for you.

-Really?
-No.

We'll find something else.

-OK.
-Good.

So, any progress with the therapy?

Yeah.

Yes, yes. We...

We're doing well. He's doing well.

Great. Great.

Shall we?

Sir, it's a crazy story, I swear.

Someone left an envelope
for me at Samir's.

Who's Samir?

Samir is the kebab guy I go to.

Alright.

What was in the envelope?

That piece of tape.

With a note saying where to put it.

You do everything you're told
without question?

There was 100 bucks with it.

It said there was 100 more afterward.

I don't ask questions for that price.

I swear, it's true,
I don't know anything.

-Fuck.
-That's right, fuck.

We won't get anymore out of him.

He's just a pawn.

We might be luckier with your father.

The DA gave me
a warrant for his phone

and to search his office.

Great, let's go then.

What?

She's taking you off the case.

Is that a joke?

But he's going to contact me again.

-You need me.
-Calm down, calm down.

That's why you'll be in
the proceedings as a witness.

-As a witness?
-Yes, as a witness.

The DA agreed.

I'll officially take over the case.

You're still on, but no more
interrogations or paperwork for you.

That's how it is Antoine.

So, in addition to a search,
we'll have

a father-son confrontation, huh?

No, no father-son confrontation.

If it wasn't for that killer,
I'd never come back here.

All right. Please, come in.

Go ahead.

Whoever that killer is,

he has a sense of family.

-The phone.
-Ah yes, the phone.

Thank you.

Greg, trace the texts. Thank you.

Go ahead, boy.

May I?

Go ahead. Make yourself at home.

Excuse the mess,
I don't have an assistant right now.

Aside from Mom, no assistant
liked you more than 3 months.

You don't care about

that mess, only this room,
to impress your clients.

Am I right?

Is this his office's waiting room?

Yes.

I lived on the other side
of this place.

I don't really recognize it,
because he's changed things.

You lived here?

-Yeah.
-For how long?

Until I was eight or nine maybe,
I don't know.

I wasn't allowed to come here,
because...

What would you say?

You didn't want me here.

Allowed? What are you talking about?

You were always in my things.

Nonsense.

Are these amazing copies

to impress your clients too?

Yeah. They're from China.

Bought by the dozen.

Looks great, huh?

I don't know about that,
but we can tell they're from China.

Do you have something
related to Courbet?

The one who painted those big asses?

Ah yes, yes.

Yes, I have something.

Come see. Come on.

Fuck.

Alex!

-Yeah?
-Come see this.

The clients love it.
They're hypnotized by that butt.

What is it?

The Source.

Do you remember, Antoine?

You'd sneak in to look at it.

Why are you lying about this?

I don't remember it.

-You've changed everything here.
-What?

I've changed
almost nothing here, sorry.

I don't understand. So

all these painting, all this art

has always been here?

Well, yes. Why?

What?

You've seen it all your childhood

and you don't know it at Orsay?

No, I don't...

-I don't remember.
-Right.

The killer knew it was here.

How could he know it was there?
Can you explain that to us?

I don't know.
I swear to you, I have no idea.

You saw his text message, didn't you?
A hidden number.

I don't know him.

-Commander?
-Yeah?

OK. I know who sent the text message.

Who is it?

Thierry Giraud, bank employee.

You don't know him either, huh?

Well, no.

No. I've never seen this man before.

Stop bullshitting me because...

Antoine, Antoine, calm down.

Sit down, please.
We'll take your statement.

Greg! Someone is trying to
connect to his phone.

It must be the killer.

What is it?

I thought you grew up in an

apartment,
that you never saw a painting?

I was a child, alright?

I don't remember this office, OK?

You'd rather believe that asshole

than me, is that it?

Fine. Why would I make this up then?

It's too twisted for my taste,

I'm not interested.

I got it!

Vendôme Square.

We'll call you.

Let's go.

Alex! So?

It's not here.

-Shit, I can't believe it.
-Check again.

He's still on the square.

Why did he bring us here?

I was in charge of cultural affairs
in Paris.

War and death.

That's what this column represents.

I didn't want to destroy it.

I just wanted to move it
to the Invalids.

But your friends preferred
to destroy it in 1871.

Revolutionary fever, my dear.

And they used this pretext to make
me pay for my political commitments.

And they made you pay the price
for its reconstruction.

Your life took a turn then.

His phone is still
connected to the square.

But he's not here, there's nothing.

The column.

What about it?

The killer.

He's coming back to Courbet.

Courbet was accused of destroying it
during the Revolution.

Oh fuck, it's Giraud.

Oh, shit.

"I too was thrown to the dogs."

Gustave Courbet.

This column thing
is like a death sentence.

The Parisian elite
attacked Courbet because

he went against them. Why?

Because he was self-taught,
he challenged academism.

"I too was thrown to the dogs."

The killer clearly identifies
with Courbet.

He too must have known contempt,
rejection, forfeiture,

and I think he was even ruined.

He too was "desperate".

Exactly.

He wants revenge on everyone
who tried to kill him?

-Is that it?
-Yes.

According to his staff,

Giraud often received threats
from clients in trouble.

First an art dealer,
then a banker. Who's next?

Did we cross-reference their clients?

Yes. To date, no link has been
established between the two.

With my father?

Neither.

Maybe he chose him
because he's your dad.

Have you told anyone about me?

About you?

Yes, me!

I don't know, to one of your clients?

A client I arrested?

Why would I talk
about you to one of...

What?

-Come on, tell me!
-Yes, yes, yes!

There might be someone.

-So who?
-Can you let me go?

Yes, well...

There was a nice young man
who came here a month ago

and he wanted advice
on marital problems. So...

So we talked a little bit
about family.

Did you talk about me?

No particularly, we talked about
kids a little, that's all.

Kids are a subject that
puts people at ease.

What the hell did you tell him?

Barely anything!

Just a few details. That we...

How can I say this?

Drifted apart. That's it.

Drifted apart? Fuck.

But that's it!

I didn't reveal any
big government secret!

How long are you going to
keep ruining my life?

I'm sorry, but I could say the same

of you given the circumstances.

You're coming to do a sketch.

That way, you'll make yourself useful

and I'll avoid punching you
in the face. OK?

Wait, wait, wait.

Did you really forget
about living here?

Yeah.

I don't know, it must be...

That I don't want to remember.

"I lived in an apartment
with no access to culture."

Yeah, right.

He had all the culture
he could wish for.

And I help him like an idiot.

I don't understand his act.

Why did he make it up?

Maybe he...

Why does he act
like he doesn't remember?

Just like that, everything
disappeared when he was nine.

-Well,...
-It can happen at five,

but at nine?

There is no such thing.
You can't erase everything at 9.

I asked you a question.

Can we just erase
everything like that?

You did hide the day
your mother died.

Yes, but it's not the same.

It was one day.
We're talking about years for him.

It was a trauma for me.

But traumas can happen
year after year, you know.

What the hell are you doing? Get out!

I've already told you,

don't play in my office!

I don't want you here!

It's not a playground!

How do you think I pay for

your cars and your vacations?

By being lazy? Get out!

Fucking kid!

I've seen amnesia over
long periods of time before.

Especially in children.

It's how they protect themselves.

Does that mean he told me the truth?

It's possible at least.

You said it yourself.
He had no reason to lie to you.

I brought you some sweets.

To a big liar like me?

I'm sorry, really.

I got carried away.

Actually...

I let this guy throw me off.
I apologize for that.

Well, listen.

I know it sounds crazy
to have forgotten all this.

No. I believe you.

I too have erased childhood memories.

I forgot the day my mother died.

Shall we make peace?

Yes.

Thank you.

What are you looking for?

I don't know.

I feel like we missed something.

Everything leads to
Courbet right now.

Yeah. Orsay, the paintings,
the Vendôme column

that caused his fall,
the court, his trial.

What's the connection
with Buttes-Chaumont?

There's no direct link between
Buttes-Chaumont and Courbet,

but there is one with the City.
There was a massacre

and it ended the people's hopes.
So....

-Hence the postcard of the Desperate.
-No, because...

There are places that are much
more emblematic, like Père-Lachaise,

or the Montparnasse cemetery.

So you think there's more?

No, why Buttes-Chaumont?

Do you think he has a personal
connection to Buttes-Chaumont?

Maybe, yeah.

What happened the day
your mother died?

I thought it was my fault.

All kids always think

it's a bit their fault, right?

I don't know.
I don't remember anything.

Given what my mother told me,

I'd really rather not remember.

What? What is it?

I think that if your father hadn't
hung paintings in his office,

maybe you wouldn't be
stuck with art today.

I don't know. I have no idea.

Wait. Act normal.

-Did you see the guy on the bench?
-I did.

-He looks like him.
-Yes, wait.

It's my son!

No, let him go!

Police, it's OK.
Let him go! Let the kid go!

Drop your gun and get on your knees.

Drop your gun, hurry up!

Get on your knees!

-Hurry up!
-Yes, yes!

-Drop your gun!
-OK! OK.

-On your knees!
-Don't be stupid!

Now, you put your hands
on your head and lie down.

Put your hands on your head
and lie down!

Mom!

Mom!

Alright.

Mom!

Protect my son, I beg you! Get him!

Mom!

Mom!

Mom!

Don't worry.

Mom!

-You're OK, kid!
-Mom!

It's OK, it's OK.

Look, your mom is right there.

Arthur, come here.

-Here he is.
-Thank you.

-Are you going to be OK?
-Yes, thank you.

Ah, shit, shit!

Yeah. Alex.

The bastard was at Buttes-Chaumont.

He almost kidnapped a kid.

No, wait, listen to me.

Send a patrol to the neighborhood
with his sketch, please.

Captain!

-Captain!
-OK, thanks.

Are you OK?

-Yes.
-I don't think

he was just there for art.

-OK.
-What is it?

He dropped his notes.

I'm afraid to damage it
by opening it.

What can we do?

I'll ask the lab.

We almost had him, damn it.

He'll make another mistake.
We'll get him.

Hello?

Nice move, Verlay.

I'm not such a bad cop
after all, huh?

-Trace the call!
-Maybe.

With or without Mrs. Chassagne?

I disrupted your plans, didn't I?

You're disgusted, right?

You know what?

I'm glad.

Yeah. Enjoy this small victory.

I hit him left and right.

I gave him an uppercut.

Subtitling: Hiventy