Original subtitles

THE BLACK DOSSIER

If there is a man in France

who is invested with the most wide-ranging powers,

it is the examining magistrate.

To be able to use such authority wisely,

what experience of life one has to have,

and what knowledge of human nature.

You possessed these qualities

and you were a great magistrate.

After his intensive law studies.

Examining Magistrate Lambert

was initially recruited by the public prosecutor's office at Draguignan.

It was the first stage of his journey across France

that was later to take him to Colmar, to Saint-Brieuc and to Grenoble.

It was in Lancourt that his career reached its completion,

when he was struck down by illness. [TO ANDRÉ LE GUEN WITH GRATITUDE]

[FROM THE MUNICIPAL COUNCIL]

[FROM THE MUNICIPAL COUNCIL] His life can be summarised in two words:

Hard work and dedication.

That is the why we loved and respected him.

A friend has left us.

But such people, gentlemen,

do not disappear completely.

They leave behind them a tradition.

My final farewell to you will encompass a wish.

Let your successor, M. Lambert,

be always inspired by your example

to be as just and wise

as you were.

Excuse me, is it far to the Court Palace?

Go straight ahead, then turn left, then take the third right

and then you'd better ask somebody else. Thank you.

CH. BOUSSARD PUBLIC WORKS

Can I help you, Monsieur?

- Today the palace is closed. - What about the concierge?

Mom is at the wash house. Cut it out!

- What is it about? - I'm the new examining magistrate.

Everybody's at the funeral. If you had warned us...

I sent a telegram.

Then it must be here somewhere.

Wipe your nose, Pierrot.

My name is Marcel. My father is at the sanatorium

and my mom is doing the laundry all the time.

I look after the little ones and take care of everything.

If you like, Pierrot will take you to Mme Nicoulin's.

That's where your lodgings will be.

It's not expensive. You'll like it there.

She's a seamstress.

Is everything to your liking, Mademoiselle?

It's a disaster. There are creases on the back and the collar's too tight.

Frankly it doesn't look too bad.

- Come in! - It looks ready-made.

A fabric like this! You won't find anything more expensive. May I?

The reception is tomorrow.

My clerk of the court has notified you. I'm...

I can't believe it! Excuse me, M. Magistrate,

- but I'm with a client. - I'll be back on Tuesday.

- You'll have enough time to make another jacket. - As you like, Mademoiselle.

- Won't you take this one? - Give it to some beggar's dog.

M. Arnaud. Mlle Boussard.

The daughter of M. Boussard, of the Boussard Cement Works.

- Mademoiselle. - Monsieur.

- I'd like to rent a room, Madame. - This one?

I'll clean it up, of course.

Poor M. Lambert stayed with me for 5 years.

He only left because he was ill, and then he died.

The fee is 20,000 francs a month, all-inclusive.

And I won't quibble over sugar.

- I'd like to pay monthly in arrears. - M. Lambert would do the same.

Then you wouldn't mind if I settled in right now?

Just let me put this all away.

I never receive my clients here.

But I decided to make an exception for Mlle Boussard's dog.

These people are so nice, M. Magistrate.

These people are so rich!

There are some hangers in the wardrobe.

One will quite suffice.

Do you know how many cars the Boussards have?

And how many servants?

Mme Nicoulin! Mme Nicoulin!

That's Raymonde. The waitress at the café.

M. Prosecutor just called to say he's expecting M. Magistrate for dinner.

Thank you, Raymonde.

- It was M. Prosecutor. - Yes, I heard.

M. Lambert called it the "judicial tam-tam".

- Do you know the prosecutor? - Of course. Such a nice man.

But he's so exhausted. He has so many people to look after:

His wife, his daughter, his old mother and his sister too.

A jolly bunch, they are.

Entertainment is scarce but the society here is quite agreeable.

Danièle has a lot of friends and will be glad to introduce you to them.

- Won't you, Danièle? - Yes, Mother.

The Boussards often entertain,

but unfortunately my husband is a great hypochondriac.

And what do you claim to be suffering from, M. Prosecutor?

Oh, don't get my brother started on this topic.

My son is virtue itself, but he's over-sensitive.

My husband's illness has been going on for more than 20 years.

Admit it, François.

I admit it. Now I'd like to talk shop with M. Arnaud.

Let's go into my study.

Ladies.

Mademoiselle.

You must know the truth.

My imaginary illness is cancer that's devouring my liver.

- Doesn't your family know? - They do,

but I've instructed them to hide it from everyone

and make jokes about my hypochondria.

If I hold out for 6 months more, I'll be getting an 8,000 franc pension.

8,000 francs. Do you understand?

You're very young and I won't be able to help you much.

Fortunately the work isn't very difficult.

I dare hope we'll spend these 6 months without incident.

- And after... - M. Prosecutor...

I'm very touched by the trust you've bestowed on me.

Excuse me.

- Dad, your drops. - They don't help me an more.

Please take them all the same.

I told him.

We'll be working together. It'll be easier that way.

The pain subsides when I'm lying down.

Then I'll be on my way, if I may. Hold on!

You might get lost in the night, I'll show you the way.

I'll ask somebody. In this town, everybody goes to bed at 9.

I don't want you to inconvenience yourself because of me.

Can't you see that I want to go out?

If you look back, you'll see shadows at the windows.

The whole family is vigilantly watching the prey.

- What prey? - A husband for Danièle.

You certainly don't beat around the bush.

I don't know you. It's better to dot the I's right away.

I'll never marry a magistrate.

- Too bad. - So don't waste your time.

A young man who's chosen such job is of no interest to me.

I wanted to become a barrister but couldn't wait.

That's your misfortune, but it'll never be mine.

A Judge's gown or a court dress might do credit to a person

but I've never had a pretty summer dress,

or a real evening gown. Enough.

With your figure and your character

you'll easily find yourself a better prey than me.

I wouldn't be so sure.

Boussard & Co. Can invite the prosecutor to dine, send flowers to his wife,

court his daughter, but marriage - that's a different matter.

- So you went with me to tell me all this? - I have to telephone somebody.

And I'm embarrassed to enter the café alone.

- Where would you like to sit? - I only want to make a call.

- Shall I order you anything? - Coffee, it's the cheapest.

- Good evening. - Two coffees, please.

Where's that champagne, Félix?

Right away, M. Boussard. It's been cooling.

Calls itself "The Patriot" and insults France and all Frenchmen.

And, of course, the author signed the article with a star instead of his name.

But I know this star: It's Flavier.

Tell comrade Flavier he should know how liquidation auctions work

and how the abattoirs are built.

Considering your position, M. Boussard,

is it worth worrying about a newspaper with a run of 3,000 copies?

It's not but it annoys me. Do you see me handing out millions worth of bribes?

Millions I earned for myself, by the way.

Your champagne, M. Boussard.

Get another glass for the commissioner. Franconi!

- Where did the commissioner get to? - He went to the lavatory.

You weren't avoiding me, Jean, but neither did you exert yourself to see me.

No, Jean. It's not about your father.

Jean, it's you who can't make up his mind.

I feel bad, Jean. I'm very unhappy.

But what I want is very simple: To see you, to kiss you...

To set my mind at rest.

- Good evening, M. Commissioner. - Good evening, Flavier.

I came to the police station too late. You'd already left.

We've done a great job. The Dutoit case is closed.

- So you've found the culprit? - Titiche has confessed.

Titiche? But he's been saying that he's innocent for a whole month.

That was when he was talking to the examining magistrate.

But with me, he spilled it all out at once.

Here's a lesson for you, Mr. Journalist:

Without an examining magistrate to breathe down our necks,

our cases are in the bag, and the felons are in the nick.

Comrade Flavier! How much does this muck earn you?

That liquidation auction was a disgrace.

And the press is still free, M. Boussard.

Might be, but it's forbidden to urinate in the street

or dump garbage on national roads. Am I right, Franconi?

- Don't get so worked up! - When I'm being insulted?

And then, I want to have some fun.

Your friends at "The Patriot" paid you 300 francs to write this.

- I'll give you 10,000 to eat it. - M. Boussard,

- I insist that you leave me alone. - And you, do you leave me alone?

Come on, gobble it up. Perhaps it's too strong for you?

And if I gave you 50,000? If you're not hungry, perhaps you're thirsty?

Calm down! What, me, calm down? I have witnesses!

Get him out before I smash him against the door!

Flavier, be reasonable. Come on.

He provoked me. But you started it all with your article.

I see the police are at Boussards' service...

Be careful, I've got a shorter fuse than M. Boussard.

I protest!

As much as you like, on the pages of "The Patriot".

My dear Franconi, had it not been for your composure, it would've ended badly.

Félix, another bottle!

I knew you'd say that. It's nearly ready, M. Boussard.

Your coffee is cold. Shall I get you another one?

No. Let's go.

- What do I owe you? - Mlle Limousin, how is M. Prosecutor?

Very well, thank you. You don't know each other.

M. Boussard, Commissioner Franconi.

M. Arnaud, the new examining magistrate.

I apologise for this little incident.

I'll explain, M. Magistrate. That man is a troublemaker.

And I didn't mean what I said just now.

- Would you have a drink with us? - No, thank you. We're leaving.

And without an examining magistrate around M. Commissioner would be more at ease.

Gentlemen.

Please give my respects to Mme Limousin.

M. Magistrate.

They hire them from nursing schools now?

Boussard's car. 4 million.

Your Boussard is a real swine.

Have you heard about the Dutoit case and a certain Titiche?

Yes, some confusing story about a poisoned dog. Don't get excited.

Old Dutoit trains dogs for police work.

Great beasts with huge jaws.

I would wear the bite suit,

and Dutoit would set his curs on me all day long.

They would try to get at my throat, to bite my backside...

I'd like to see how you would've dealt with these dogs.

Write: "I performed demeaning tasks for M. Dutoit."

To get some morale boost with a job like that

one can't do without a drink or two.

One night I had three or four...

Well, maybe five or six...

And it occurred to me to feed some poisoned bread pellets to these damned dogs.

And I did. - "I admit having poisoned the dogs."

But I was wasted! Drunk as a cobbler!

"I was in a state of inebriation."

I'm not a mean man. I only did it to piss off the boss.

Motive: "Personal revenge."

That's it. You got it right, M. Magistrate.

That's all there is to the Dutoit case. It is, as you can see, quite clear.

I only wonder why you have been denying your involvement for a month.

Well... it was a matter of principle.

It was me who advised my client to tell the truth

to get this case over and done with.

Very well. Sign your statement.

What is it?

M. Clerk of the Court is wanted on the telephone.

In a moment.

We're done here. Go take your call and send in M. Dutoit.

M. Dutoit!

- M. Magistrate. - M. Dutoit.

I'm happy to inform you that your case is closed.

- Is it? Charming. - Titiche has confessed.

He killed your dogs out of revenge.

But what about the break-in, and the larceny attempt...

Nothing was stolen. Your statement is filed in the dossier.

I specifically mentioned "the larceny attempt".

Did you have any money, or any objects of value in your house?

- No.

Then what was there to steal?

May I ask what made Titiche confess?

His solicitor advised him to tell the truth.

Of course.

What had Titiche to lose? A month in prison? He'd already done it.

Hence his solicitor's advice, and M. Boussard's as well.

And everybody's happy.

But you, M. Magistrate, are you convinced?

I have the culprit, the motive and the confession.

In that case, I can only present to you my compliments, M. Magistrate.

And my respects.

M. Dutoit.

What does M. Boussard have to do with this case?

It wasn't me who conducted the investigation.

- I asked you a question. - I'm grateful.

Because Commissioner Franconi didn't ask me any.

At first he even denied that the dogs had been poisoned.

I had to perform an autopsy on them myself. You did?

Before becoming a police dog handler I had been a doctor, a surgeon.

And I brought the jars to Magistrate Lambert for forensic examination.

They've been standing there for weeks.

Look for yourself. Characteristic colour, and smell as well.

I had to leave them here to be filed as evidence.

Basing on which, Commissioner Franconi, who hadn't believed it was poisoning at all,

immediately found the culprit: Titiche.

A little too easy.

But why did you mention M. Boussard's name?

M. Magistrate, may I be completely frank with you?

You must.

The whole town is flat on its stomach before Boussard.

But I had a friend,

André Le Guen, who wanted to denounce that old bastard.

He put together a lethal dossier

against Boussard and the municipal council.

I've seen this dossier, bound in black covers.

Are quite you sure no one can hear us? No one.

André Le Guen is dead.

And these bastards raised a monument in his honour at the cemetery.

But they are terrified by this dossier

and have been looking everywhere for it. You see?

Is this dossier in your house?

No. But it could have been.

Boussard could have thought so.

And he could have paid someone to break into my house.

But that's hardly enough to accuse someone.

But there were leads to follow, questions to ask.

Yet nobody backed me up.

And you won't start your career here by taking on Boussard, the Mayor,

the Subprefect and the Deputy. So what should one do?

Believe Titiche. It was he who killed my dogs.

Because he couldn't stand my guts.

My respects, M. Magistrate.

It was Franconi from the Commissariat.

He wanted to know if Titiche confirmed his confession.

Ask Marcel to get rid of these jars.

And what about Titiche? Shall we refer him to the Tribunal?

No.

However surprising it may seem, I'll request some additional information.

"Jacques Arnaud, Examining Magistrate."

What did that gentleman want?

He asked me if Mme André Le Guen could receive him.

Will you allow me, Mother?

Let him in.

Monsieur.

Madame.

My mother-in-law.

My respects, Madame.

Wherever an examining magistrate presents himself,

he arouses anxiety and embarrassment.

But today, Madame,

it is I who is most embarrassed.

Yes. A perturbing case

impelled me, instead of summoning you to my chambers, to come here myself

and simply ask you whether you could help me.

Please, have a seat.

You see, Madame...

Your husband maintained relations with a certain Albert Dutoit.

During the war, they were sent to the same prisoner camp.

And after the war?

Dutoit often needed money and my husband would help him out.

I apologise for asking all these questions,

but I'm a newcomer at Lancourt.

Was your husband's death sudden?

When he came back from captivity he was debilitated.

But instead of resting, he zealously threw himself into politics.

An embolism struck him down in his sleep.

André was... 37.

He conducted a rather severe campaign against M. Boussard.

That's an exaggeration.

They were friendly enough with each other to have had dinner together

the day before André's death.

But your husband put together a dossier against M. Boussard.

He never told me about it.

That dossier had a black binding.

I've never seen that black dossier.

- And you, Mother? - Neither have I.

Were you present at his last dinner with Boussard?

No.

I was in Biarritz, with my mother.

The day before that André had telephoned me.

It happened so...

So suddenly.

It was terrible.

Madame!

Alain has locked himself up in his room again

and refuses to open the door.

Tell him that if he's obstinate, I'll go myself.

He won't answer, whatever you tell him.

Please excuse me. It's my son.

His father's death affected him greatly...

- I'm coming, Marthe. - I won't abuse your hospitality.

Madame.

Marthe, help M. Magistrate with his coat. Excuse me.

Alain, open the door.

Were you here at the time of M. Le Guen's death?

Yes.

It was I who found him in his bed.

Whom did you first inform of his death? - Open the door, dear.

His brother, M. Gilbert. It was he who called the doctor. - Alain!

Then I telephoned Madame in Biarritz. - Alain!

I won't punish you, I promise. Open the door, dear.

I'll take you in my arms. You'll cry in my arms.

Alain, open up! Open up, dear.

Alain, don't you hear me?

Sometimes he locks himself up. Sometimes he comes home after dark.

And he wouldn't respond to a single word.

Did you ever happen to see a black dossier

in M. Le Guen's study?

No, never.

Alain, if you don't open the door at once, I'll have to spank you!

Alain!

Won't you answer?

You won't obey?

Alain, if you don't open the door at once, I'll tell your uncle, I'm warning you!

He'll punish you as you deserve. Alain!

The investigation is strictly confidential.

I'm under orders to demand absolute discretion.

I'd even say, total discretion.

Not a word to anyone, Corporal. Even to the boss. Even to my pillow.

Thank you. Come on, let's be on our way.

Which one of you is the fastest at sprinting?

Sébastide!

Why did the gendarmes want?

To know whether Boussard and Le Guen had dinner at my place.

They would have gone hard on your tableware!

Your gendarmes went about this task with so much discretion

that the whole town is discussing nothing but this case.

- The gendarmes are persistent.

They got me all the information I wanted.

Franconi would've done the same with greater tact.

Franconi would've found out that the day before his death.

Le Guen had dinner with Boussard at the "Golden Pheasant".

But would've added that nothing extraordinary was taking place there.

And something extraordinary was taking place, wasn't it?

Do you know, M. Prosecutor, what they had on the table?

Excellent dishes I can no longer taste.

A dossier.

The owner and the waiter are certain: The dossier was black.

What of it?

Boussard and Le Guen were going over it paragraph by paragraph.

At some point Boussard got angry.

- What of it? - How do you mean?

I found the proof that the black dossier exists.

And who asked you to?

Who filed a complaint about its disappearance?

We're not here to invent new cases.

We have enough that are already cluttering our offices.

I won't quarrel with Boussard, who has friends everywhere, all the way up to the Ministry,

over three dead dogs.

What is it?

M. Boussard's chauffeur brought two letters.

There you have it. We're done for.

One for you and one for me.

I've already told you about my situation,

about my illness...

It was unreasonable of you, it was unkind.

Strange, it's an invitation to his daughter's wedding.

Same as mine.

I was expecting a lot of swearing and abuse.

- And he's inviting us to dance. - Watch out, he's not one for irony.

Boussard will be expecting a public apology.

I implore you, no scandals.

M. Arnaud, so nice of you to come.

- Please excuse my attire. - Never mind that, we're all friends here.

Let me introduce you. Our new examining magistrate...

- M. Subprefect. - Honoured to meet you.

M. De Montessan, Mayor of Lancourt and the dad of my daughter's fiancé.

- It's a pleasure, Monsieur. - We're discussing politics,

but for you, at your age, dancing and champagne are more suitable.

So go and have fun.

M. Prosecutor asked to be excused. He's too tired. Overwork, no doubt.

But his daughter is over there. Have a nice evening.

I know you well, Danièle. You're a proud girl.

- So why did you come? - Out of pride.

To see you by her side, to see you dance with her.

I came to feel sorry for you.

You know that if it were up to me to choose...

Don't tell me about having to choose between Mlle Boussard and me.

You had a choice between me and her daddy's cement, and you made it.

Tell me that we'll meet each other again.

You aren't married yet and you're already thinking about cheating on her.

And for that little Danièle would do just fine. Well, you can forget about it!

You've lost the Danièle you loved so much.

I'll never forget you.

Then dance with me.

For the last time, for everyone to see.

If you dare.

Come on.

I've been looking everywhere for you, Jean. Will you ask me to a dance?

- I was going to ask Danièle. - It's our wedding, not hers.

Suzanne, I don't want to offend Danièle.

You'll offend her by insisting on dancing with her.

Dancing is good for you. It's slimming.

You're here on my invitation, so I'll let that pass.

Jean, ask me to a dance.

Be careful, one who seeks to be insulted, will be.

I'm sorry, Danièle.

Don't cry.

There. It's over.

How can one compete with Mlle Boussard?

Do you know how much a dress like hers costs?

No idea. But I promise I didn't even notice it.

Whereas yours, I think, is very pretty.

You're very kind but you know nothing.

- I want to help you. - Spare me your condolences!

And now, let's go.

I want to enjoy M. Boussard's champagne and M. Boussard's orchestra...

- But my suit... - What about it?

There are plenty of rich people here.

But only one examining magistrate.

It seemed to me you thought my occupation ridiculous.

Please excuse me

for all the silly things I said to you that night.

Come on, I want to have fun.

M. Arnaud.

Yes? - M. Boussard is expecting you.

- Expecting me? - In his study.

- May I? - That's strange...

Usually, it's the examining magistrate who summons people to his office.

Danièle!

Follow me, if you please.

A moment.

Come in.

Please, Monsieur.

It's nice of you to join us for a chat.

You know M. Mayor. The other one is the Deputy.

M. Goulet, an industrialist. M. Ostin, a landowner.

Would you like a cigar? They're excellent. No, thank you.

- Some brandy? Also excellent. - No, thank you.

A healthy lifestyle advocate, eh?

I have a tennis court and a swimming pool, if such things are to your liking.

In my profession spare time is a luxury.

A noble profession. To serve and defend others. I salute you.

- And still, if I could be of help to you... - Of help to me?

In a little business where you waste time

by having gendarmes inquire about things I could have told you myself

had you asked me.

Because I wear my heart upon my sleeve. Ask these gentlemen.

But I have one shortcoming: I can't stand people who pester me.

So we'll discuss things, tap the abscess and shake hands, OK?

I would've preferred you to come to the court palace.

To the magistrate's office? Are you joking?

Ask anyone who I am and what I've done for our town.

It wasn't André Le Guen's opinion.

Ah, here we go!

Le Guen! A pest if ever there was one!

Excuse me, I'm calm now. What about Le Guen?

- The day before his death... - We had dinner together,

and your black dossier was lying on the table.

We quarreled, true, but then we shook hands. And shortly after that, he died.

The dossier has disappeared.

Le Guen was holding it in his hands when he left. And I don't care what he did with it.

To prove it, I'll tell you what was in that dossier.

This town had it damned hard in the war.

And it was me who, with the assistance of these gentlemen, rebuilt it.

Not without profit, of course. And nobody but Le Guen objected.

- What did he object to? - Purchase of land, bankruptcy auctions,

building materials: He argued about everything.

For Le Guen the reconstruction was sacrosanct.

A lofty point of view, but one I don't share.

That's all there's to it. Ask these gentlemen if I'm lying.

The municipal council assumed full responsibility.

One had to act fast, to get loans, to pay wages...

Who financed this operation?

A good question, that.

Well, answer, M. Mayor. Or do you want me to answer for everyone? Thank you.

M. Magistrate is asking who provided the financing.

A local bank...

A family bank under the management of M. De Montessan.

Goulet supplied the metalware.

The Ostin group provided the land.

Nobody thought these activities to be essentially dishonest,

with the exception of Le Guen. Hence his dossier.

Hence these gentlemen's panic.

So I invited Le Guen to dinner.

And I asked him not to interpellate the members of the municipal council.

He died before making his statement public.

When did Le Guen plan to conduct the interpellation, M. Mayor?

I think... I don't want to mislead you...

Don't mince words. The next day after the day he died.

- A strange coincidence. - Why strange?

You think it was me, Boussard, who, in collusion with these gentlemen,

did away with Le Guen by poisoning his drink, because of his critiques?

The opposition critisises us all the time.

But you were talking about the panic...

When somebody keeps calling you a thief, the electorate starts getting wary.

That's all there is to it.

But I bear no grudge and I'm offering you my hand. We're friends now?

Be careful. If you're not with Boussard, you're against him.

You refuse? So your gendarmes will keep on harassing me?

Just in case this dossier is hidden here somewhere?

In the refrigerator, or in the bolster?

Since you're here, don't waste time, search the place.

I'll even open the doors, with your permission.

A perquisition at Boussard's, on the wedding day.

What a spectacle! M. Boussard, you're being absurd.

I want to get it over with. Here are the keys for my safe and my secretaire...

Go on, show me how you earn your 40,000 francs a month!

Boussard, you don't know what you're saying.

- You must apologize. - Apologise to this kid? Seriously?

M. Magistrate, whenever Boussard feels a rebuff he loses his head.

- We're sorry. - That's quite all right.

This conversation revealed certain details that were unknown to me

and that are of no interest to me. Gentlemen.

Doctor, with whom did you get in touch when André Le Guen died?

With his brother, Gilbert, a notary.

- Were you treating M. Le Guen? - No, M. Magistrate.

The medical profession consists of narrow specialists.

And my area of expertise, a quite modest one, are the dead.

- Who was his attending doctor? - Dr Pierrard.

What did he treat Le Guen for?

Dr Pierrard was an eminent hepatologist.

Don't you find it surprising that Le Guen, who'd been suffering from liver disease,

died of heart failure?

An embolism at 37.

I don't contest either the diagnosis or the treatment.

I merely state the outcome.

But shouldn't a municipal physician see into things, ask questions?

Of course, M. Magistrate.

But do you know how much I get for certifying someone's death?

It's not my call to lecture my colleagues.

Come in.

M. Magistrate, you're wanted on the telephone.

I'm busy. It's the corporal from the gendarmerie.

An urgent and confidential matter.

May I?

- Your coffee, Maître Rousset. - Thank you, Mme Piriou.

All these gentlemen are waiting to make a call?

You'll have to be patient. It's the corporal, M. Magistrate.

Thank you.

Hello? Hello, that's me, Arnaud.

Excuse me.

I'm listening. It concerns the Le Guen case?

It's like this, M. Magistrate. I'm at Widow Bouju's now.

She's a midwife who lives right across from Mme Le Guen.

Mme Bouju suffers from insomnia.

Well, on the night of Le Guen's death.

Mme Bouju saw a suspicious individual in the street.

And that individual was leaving M. Le Guen's house?

Yes, M. Magistrate. At 1 AM.

Is your Mme Bouju certain she saw him on the night of Le Guen's death?

Thank you. I'll send her the summons. Give me her address.

Go on.

Midwife, Avenue Tilleul, 36.

IS THERE A LE GUEN CASE? REVELATIONS OF MME BOUJU

I understand how you feel, Maître Le Guen,

but if we believed everything we read in newspapers...

It concerns my brother's memory.

And now the whole town wants to know who that man seen by Mme Bouju is,

and whether André Le Guen really died of an embolism.

Who would take Mme Bouju's insomniac observations seriously?

The examining magistrate, for one,

who sheds doubt on the competence and devotion of Dr Pierrard.

The examining magistrate is young, he takes his work very personally.

Good for him.

But he should know that the law demands the confidentiality of an investigation.

If the only office telephone is installed in the concierge's box,

what confidentiality is there to talk about?

That's not a reason to drop hints that my brother was murdered.

Murdered? Read the article in "The Patriot".

Not just the text: Read between the lines.

The paragraph marked by a cross.

If you sue the newspaper,

there'll be witnesses with conflicting statements,

a doctor who'll say white, and another one who'll say black,

lawyers who'll join in to confuse everything...

"The Patriot" will triple its circulation. You'll win the trial, of course,

but if I were you, I wouldn't do anything.

- That's my sister-in-law's opinion. - You see?

Always trust the feminine instinct.

But my mother thinks differently.

She doesn't understand my hesitation.

She reproaches me for it.

M. Prosecutor, on my behalf and on behalf of my ward, Alain Le Guen,

I request an exhumation and an autopsy.

But the scandal!

It's the only way to put an end to all these ravings!

Move along! What do you expect to see here?

You can't stay here. This isn't a fairground show. Go on.

I'm shivering, M. Clerk of the Court.

We can't afford to install heating here, M. Doctor.

But my hands are numb.

You aren't likely to cause any great harm to your client.

The family insists that the results of the internal organs examination

be thoroughly conclusive.

We'll be sending the specimens to the central laboratory in Paris.

You can do what you like. I'll do my job.

But for the full fee, of course.

Including my travel expenses: 172 francs.

Why did you take a taxi?

Well, I couldn't ride a bicycle with all my gear.

I came here on foot. You have all you need?

- Except for the containers. - Don't you have any?

Considering what you pay me, I'm not going to provide the containers as well.

And I told Marcel to be here at 11 sharp.

They're already bringing Le Guen here, and we have no containers.

- You took your time! - It wasn't my fault.

The gendarmes wouldn't let me through.

OK. Come on, clear off.

Is that all you have to offer?

We're short of funds. And considering how they will be used...

Alain, you're going to be late.

Alain, what are you doing?

Won't you answer me?

You're putting on your mean face again?

Tell me what you're thinking about.

Come in.

Madame, M. Gilbert is here.

He's asking Madame to come down at once.

Your lunch is in your schoolbag.

Wash your hands and show them to me before you leave.

M. Le Guen said you were to come down without delay.

- What are we going to do? - I don't know.

- I was with Alain. - Close the door.

Françoise, something unbelievable has happened, that doesn't make any sense.

At the Paris laboratory, they've discovered poison in the samples we'd sent them.

Poison?

Yes. Atropine sulphate.

The experts are unanimous.

André was poisoned.

But it's impossible! Gilbert, it's absurd!

And then, who could have done it?

And why?

André had no enemies.

Gilbert, we must contest their report.

Demand to have a new examination.

Before taking any steps we need to think.

And first of all, consult a lawyer.

And the magistrate, what will he do?

He expressed his condolences...

but I could feel he was hardly containing himself.

He'll re-open the investigation.

- And he will question us. - And not only us...

The chambermaid too. Our friends, the neighbors, the suppliers...

In your situation you can't tolerate...

What can I do?

Very well, my cub. You can go.

Alain shouldn't go out.

The whole town knows and is talking about nothing else.

I can't keep him under lock and key.

It would be better if we told him ourselves.

What do you think, Mother?

We must tell him.

Come here.

You won't be going to school today.

Listen to me.

You must keep your head.

You daddy died in his bed.

In his sleep. It's the truth.

But there are people who are saying...

the people who weren't here, of course...

that your daddy...

could have eaten something by mistake...

something that made him feel bad.

- Do you understand? - Poison?

This isn't true, I swear.

But your schoolmates will ask questions,

say stupid things.

- Stay with us. - No.

You can stay in your room and play all day.

I'll be with you.

I'd rather go to school.

Now he can do as he wants.

You can go, my cub, if you want to.

He understood everything right away.

He didn't ask any questions.

Not your fault? Then perhaps it's my fault?

That delay is on you.

I'm not paying the workers for sitting and waiting for the building materials.

Friendship? Never heard of it. There's no friendship where work is concerned.

There are only contracts and bailiffs!

No, I'm not listening. Sort this out yourself. So long.

Franconi, what are you doing here?

M. Boussard, you must return to your house.

The magistrate wants you to be present at the perquisition.

You're joking?

He wanted to send gendarmes

but I proposed, for the sake of propriety, that I go myself.

He wants to know where I'm hiding my atropine sulfate supply?

And if I refuse to come?

You'll gain nothing by it. It'll only make him angry.

OK, I'll go.

But I won't forget this. What's the use of having a friend in the Force,

if he can't prevent things like that from happening?

I couldn't foresee that he'd go this far... Well, he did.

And tomorrow he'll go even further. Be careful, Franconi,

I don't have a martyr's inclination. If he gets me into trouble,

I'll take everyone down with me!

If Boussard isn't here in five minutes, I'll proceed without him.

What have you drawn me into?

I don't feel good, don't feel good at all.

Mademoiselle wants to know if Tarzan will be permitted to go out to do his business.

He has my permission. You as well.

Two more minutes, M. Prosecutor.

- Are these gentlemen here already? - Yes, Monsieur.

The gendarmes neglected to wipe their feet.

I forbid it!

If you don't like the picture, I'll eat it!

He won't be so cocky

when they take away his necktie, his shoelaces and his braces!

Now you made me really angry, Monsieur.

When you came to me about the dossier, I took it in good humor and had a laugh.

But now it concerns murder. That changes everything.

Your coming here is as good as an accusation!

I want to find the dossier.

Don't be silly, if I had it, I would have already destroyed it.

If it doesn't exist anymore, I'll find out what was in it.

- Not in my house. - I'll look elsewhere.

In the Mayor's house, perhaps, in the company of your gendarmes?

And in the houses of M. De Montessan, M. Ostin and M. Goulet.

All the associates you were so kind to introduce to me.

You're looking for a scandal.

Very well, do your job.

Would you like to begin with my daughter's bathroom

or my servants' lavatory?

- With your study, M. Boussard. - As you wish.

I'll spare you asking for my keys. Here they are, M. Magistrate.

Give them to the clerk of the court, please.

Excuse me.

[BANK OF MONTESSAN] Thieves! Thieves!

Long live the examining magistrate!

- Long live the prosecutor! - Long live the prosecutor!

They are shouting: "Long live the prosecutor!"

I'm too old to find any pleasure in it.

M. Magistrate, did you find what you were looking for?

Excuse me, but I can't comment.

Boussard's gang has got itself in hot water with the law,

and "The Patriot" is on your side.

Thank you, but I'd prefer to work alone.

That way I won't have to worry about sparing anyone.

Take the bigwigs by their throats! Don't let go of them!

- Resign! - Resign!

- Resign! - Resign! - Resign!

Get him, Rex!

Go on, get him, Rex! Get him!

Get him!

Stop, Rex!

Heel, Rex! Heel!

Heel!

Hey, M. Dutoit!

Stop, Rex!

Heel, Rex!

What do you want?

- To come in! - Open the gates then.

What about the dog?

He's trained to attack only thieves. Don't worry.

What if his judgment fails him...

M. Dutoit, we didn't agree in the Titiche case

and, as I have great respect for you, I regret it.

We're now investigating the Le Guen murder

and, seeking amicable assistance, I turn to you.

What's the use? You don't believe a word I say.

But I admit I was wrong before.

Could we talk somewhere more quiet?

Let's go.

I'll be back in five minutes.

These dogs, where do they come from?

Alsace. Does it take long to train them?

It depends on how old they are when you start with them.

Relax, I don't care about the dogs. Pretend you're talking to me.

It's you we came to see, not Dutoit. Me? Why?

- You did 18 months in prison? - Yes.

And you're prohibited from residing in the Seine département for three years?

- Yes. - Want to go back to Paris?

Rather!

- You have a girl there? - Several.

Nobody makes a hassle over the prohibition on residence,

so in some cases the police are ready to turn a blind eye.

- That's why I applied for a return permit. - It can be arranged,

with a favorable recommendation. But you'll have to render us a little service.

- If it can be done, I'll do it. - Look out!

- Who's that? - The boss' daughter.

These dogs come from Alsace.

They're very easy to train when they're little.

There's a problem though: Their predisposition to illness.

The purer their breed, the more delicate they are.

- She's pretty, that kid. - I like Parisian girls better.

- Don't you like her at all? - I neither like nor dislike her.

She's just not my type.

OK, back to serious talk. Do you know who Le Guen was?

- A friend of the boss. - That's right.

Le Guen gave some dough to your boss. A lot of it.

Their friendship and being in a camp together are just pretexts,

and we don't place much credence in them.

There was something else between them, and we want to know what it was.

If you find that out,

you'll tell us and get your favourable recommendation.

- Honest? - Hey, we're on the level!

Who's here? Is there anyone here?

Yvonne! Yvonne!

- What do you want? - Didn't you hear anything?

No.

I was preparing for bed when I felt that something wasn't right.

There was someone spying on me on the balcony.

- I thought it was you. - Why would I spy on you?

It wasn't a dream. I wasn't sleeping.

You dream without sleeping.

That's the only remedy to help me forget that I've failed in my life.

It won't end well, if you overdo it.

My dear Yvonne, besides you, it's the only thing that's left to me.

Don't get cold. Try to get some real sleep.

Don't scream. Don't be scared.

And don't be angry with me, if you can.

Yvonne, for many days I haven't been able to bring myself to speak to you.

But tonight I felt too sad.

I wanted to knock on your window,

but when I saw that you left your door open,

I couldn't resist the temptation.

- Please forgive me. - Jo, you must leave.

If my father hears you, he'll be terribly angry.

He won't hear me.

And I'll leave as soon as you say something nice to me.

Tell me that you don't think badly of me, that we're friends.

I don't understand you.

Whenever I spoke to you never answered.

And when I looked at you you always looked away.

With my clowning around in my overalls,

I was sure you despised me.

- No. I felt sorry for you, Jo. - Did you really?

Yes. We're friends now.

You can go to sleep in peace.

People who've just become friends don't part ways right away.

They discuss their troubles and share their sorrows with each other.

We've cleared everything up. And I have no sorrows.

But I want you to be happy.

It isn't becoming for a girl like you

to care for dogs who think of nothing but their grub.

I do it for my father. He's never had a break.

If it weren't for me, the poor man would...

Be careful, if he notices there's something between us,

he'll send you away.

Has he decided that you shouldn't love anyone?

He's got only me to be indulgent towards him when he's selfish,

- or even a little jealous. - Jealous?

What about that photograph on the wall?

And that one by the bed?

Hasn't he ever seen them?

It was his friend. His friend? You mean Le Guen?

Did you love Le Guen?

With my father the way he is,

Le Guen was the only man who ever paid any attention to me.

So when he told me that he thought I was pretty and that he loved me...

But he stayed with his wife.

That's not love.

If you loved me, Yvonne, I would have wished to give you a different life.

And he just took advantage of your youth.

- Who killed him? - I don't know.

- But you must have an inkling? - No, none at all.

Don't you trust me?

I'd do anything to help you.

Yvonne... I love you.

If you only knew how often I lurked under your window.

Oh, Jo, go away, I beg you.

Just one kiss and I'll leave. I swear.

- Now go. - I shouldn't have kissed you.

How can I leave you now?

Don't you feel good now?

My poor darling!

My poor dear!

Trust me. You'll never have to cry again.

Sit down a moment. I'll tell the Commissioner.

Well, is it him?

M. Commissioner, I looked from afar, and it was dark.

I only saw that it was a man.

You described him as "very tall and heavy-looking".

That's Dutoit to a T.

I'm not sure. In all honesty...

Don't worry about honesty. Make an effort. Try to remember.

Look at him.

Come now, you don't forget a face like Dutoit's.

Did the man you saw have a beard?

He was far away, and it was dark.

We'll continue later at the confrontation.

We'll put your testimony down this way:

The figure of a man, leaving Le Guen,

was similar to that of Dutoit.

Get Dutoit up here.

Well, that's all for today.

No, not that door. Through here.

Mme Bouju!

That girl, Marie-Louise, who's now dying in the hospital,

has she ever consulted you?

Just once.

The poor thing wasn't sure she was pregnant.

And she never came to see you again? Never, I swear.

So much the better for you. See you very soon, Mme Bouju!

Come in!

M. Dutoit...

We have already discussed your relationships with Le Guen,

but you seem to have been a little too discreet about a certain matter.

What matter? - Did you know anything about Le Guen's love affair?

No. - Le Guen had a mistress for two years and you didn't know?

No.

Your refusal to answer obliges us to doubt your sincerity.

I don't know anything about this matter.

Be careful! If we prove that you knew about it and didn't tell us,

you'll be in trouble.

And another thing, M. Dutoit.

Before becoming a dog trainer, how many times did you file for bankruptcy?

I don't see what this has to do with anything.

Twice.

And how much did you lose due to these two bankruptcies?

- I don't know the exact figure. - Despite these setbacks

you still own the house you live in, and the kennels as well.

Where did the money come from?

- I was sponsored. - By whom?

- By friends. - What friends?

The friends I made during my stay at the concentration camp.

Just one friend: Le Guen. How many millions did he give you?

I don't know.

Give us an approximate figure: One, two, three million?

Maybe two. Yeah, maybe four. Such a good friend!

- Did you meet often? - He was very busy.

Did he usually come to your place or you to his?

He would come to my house.

And you would spend cozy evenings together,

just the two of you, reminiscing about the good times at the death camp.

- You take us for bloody morons? - What are you on about?

We want to know what your daughter did during Le Guen's visits?

What are you doing?

As you can see... I'm burning the photographs and letters.

Thank you.

There. I only asked you to put them away.

It's better that way, because I love you.

Jo, while you were out shopping the police came and took Dad away.

- What did they want from him? - I don't know

but I didn't like the look on their faces.

But nothing will ever separate us.

Look...

Everyone knows that Dad was Le Guen's friend.

But people shouldn't know about that other thing.

But you had the perfect right to do it!

Yes, of course. But if they ask you, I'd like you to say...

that you don't know anything about that story with Le Guen.

- Why? What are you afraid of? - Dad doesn't trust the police.

Very well. And then, considering what I know about Le Guen

and what you told me, and also not being the inquisitive type,

I won't be lying when I say I don't know anything.

Don't be angry.

I'm not angry, I'm jealous.

I won't make a scene. You and your father can keep your secrets.

Your Le Guen is of no interest to me whatsoever.

But, Jo, I trust you.

But it's Dad who might be in trouble.

So I'm not family.

Then scheme together all you like and leave me be.

But Jo...

The night Le Guen died...

Leave me alone with your Le Guen!

After the dinner with Boussard Le Guen came here.

So what?

He complained of migraine and nausea,

and Dad helped him.

Your father was a doctor, it was a natural thing to do. What of it?

Le Guen wasn't in a state to drive, so Dad brought him back home.

He helped him up to his room,

and there he made him take some medicine.

- Do you understand? - Yes.

But then, that unidentified man the midwife saw

was your father?

Yes. And if the police find out about this, I...

If the police find out about all this, your father is done for.

But how would they find out?

RESIGNATION!

Let's scram, guys! Cops!

- Putting up posters is against the law! - And what about stealing?

Down with the thieves! Resign! Resign!

- Resign! - Resign!

You can't pass through the square in your car.

I'm in the Municipal Council and it's in session now. I will pass through.

If you do, M. Boussard, I won't be held responsible if anything happens to you.

If anything happens to me, you'll pay for it with your rank.

PROSECUTOR'S OFFICE

You're still here? - I've been examining the confiscated documents.

Interesting?

Everything's so cleverly doctored and disguised...

But I'll get to the bottom of this all eventually.

Dad needs his dossier.

The Prosecutor-General is demanding his report and explanations. He's furious.

I'm sorry for Dad but it's all very amusing.

Do you hear? - They're demanding the Mayor's resignation.

After your search at the bank, everyone's withdrawing their money.

With the bank and Mayor out, things will get really nasty!

Listen to them.

Come on, I want to watch it with you.

- Resign! - Resign!

Bloody hell, what are you waiting for? Why aren't you calling the reinforcements?

If we bring in the Mobile Guard, things will get worse.

Worse than this?

Look.

Come on! Push them back, quickly!

Nothing has ever been happening here.

But you brought with you the entertainment, the spectacle.

- I'll take it all the way. - And everyone will be by your side.

And you, Danièle? Will you be by my side as well?

I haven't missed a single search.

- There goes Boussard's car! - I'll lend his daughter my bicycle.

You're a great chap!

A great chap who doesn't dare to tell a girl about his feelings for her.

She has her suspicions.

But she doesn't say anything.

It would be nice to bask in the light of these fireworks.

We'll be poor but very much in love!

We'll have to deny ourselves everything but we'll be so happy!

No, Jacques. These are all children's tales, I don't believe in them.

I'm not so complicated. I want to kiss you.

- I know that... - No, Jacques. Let go.

Kissing is nice.

We close our eyes, we dream.

When we wake up, I'll be your wife and the mother of your children.

But I won't be your wife, I'll be your maid.

And I won't be a mother, but a maid to my children as well,

just as I was a maid to my father.

Well I refuse to live such life!

I don't want to bring up little magistrates and clerks of the court.

Go then.

Go away.

- I wasn't trying to be mean. - I didn't say you were mean.

You're perfectly right.

And now go!

Put yourself in my place.

I'm doing all the sewing

for the Boussards' chambermaid and cook.

And for their dog as well. And they're good clients!

I had to remain neutral. Stop twitching all the time!

I'm trying to do a feather cut.

But now I've chosen sides!

And Tarzan will have to run around naked.

- I'm with you. - I'm very touched, Mme Nicoulin.

My income will suffer, but if we're unable to see farther than our noses,

we're no better than animals!

M. Magistrate! M. Magistrate!

- The "tam-tam" again! - Excuse me.

M. Magistrate, your clerk of the court wants to speak to you.

I'll be down shortly. Thank you, Raymonde.

I got one of them! I let him have it good.

He's coming.

Hold the line, he's been told you're calling.

The landlady is giving you all a round on the house.

What with your bump and your black eye, you deserve a bit of a stimulant.

We're stimulated all right and will gladly give these guys a second helping.

- Be careful, the cops marked you well. - I don't care about the cops.

I'm only afraid of my landlady.

On my way home I could already hear what she'd be telling me:

"Whenever there are punches to be dealt,

you can't help going for your share of them."

But no, the landlady kissed me and said:

"The young Magistrate is very brave, and it's good of you to be on his side."

There he is! Long live the young Magistrate!

- Bravo, M. Magistrate! - Thank you, gentlemen.

M. Magistrate, on behalf of those who were injured today

and those who are ready for round two,

- I'm offering you a glass of friendship. - You're very kind.

Hello, I'm listening.

M. Magistrate, a special commissioner has just arrived from Paris.

I wanted to explain to him how the ground lay, but he was in a hurry and refused.

He brought his own dossier and he's already made up his mind about the affair.

Let him do what he likes. I'm coming. We too ought to hurry up. What?

The reporters from Paris are here as well. They're all at the "Lion d'or" now.

Dear gentlemen of the press, who arrive from Paris,

and the local reporters, whose acquaintance I'm pleased to make,

I'll have to disappoint you.

The Le Guen affair is quite unremarkable.

Together with my colleagues I've unraveled many mysteries:

The Watson affair that concerned an American strangled in a sleeping car,

the case of the bloodstained trunk, the Lenain affair,

and they all were a real gift, - for the police, as well as the press.

It's not my fault that today we have to deal with a banal drama from the provincial life.

I apologise. - Boussard's arrest will surely cause a stir.

We hope you came to put him behind bars.

- You'll know in several hours. - M. Commissioner,

do you already know who killed Le Guen?

Of course, it's clear as day.

If it's that obvious, why hasn't the culprit been arrested already?

The local police use their methods, I use mine.

My dear friends, I expect to see you here at the same time tomorrow.

The case will be closed by then.

The Police Commissariat, quick.

Yes? Hold on a moment.

It's the porter from the "Lion d'or".

A good lad.

Hello? Yes.

No, I didn't know that.

So he decided to work on his own?

Yes. Did he talk about Boussard?

Yes, he said it'll be over in 24 hours.

Thank you, Max. Keep an eye on the Parisian.

And if there is any news... You understand?

I don't like to be pushed aside like that.

Don't worry. The Parisian needs 24 hours. We'll have it done in 12.

Marthe, you can take these away.

Marthe!

Madame, there are two gentlemen in the garden.

I'm not in for anyone.

Gentlemen, now isn't a good time for a visit. - Police.

Madame isn't receiving anyone. Monsieur, it's a respectable household.

Go to your kitchen and stay there. Keep an eye on her.

- Where is the kitchen? - There.

- And what is that? - The linen room.

- Where is Mme Le Guen? - In there.

Stay with her. See that no one leaves the house.

Please accept my apologies. Gaston Noblet, Special Commissioner.

Can't you see we're dining, Monsieur?

I'd be a very poor policeman indeed, if that detail escaped me.

I'd like to speak to you, Madame. Please take the child away.

I'm past the age of being ordered about.

It's a most respectful request that I'd like you to carry out immediately.

- Monsieur... - Mother, take Alain away.

Since it's you who's asking me, Françoise...

Come with me, dear. - Go to Alain's room and stay there, Madame.

That's a request as well.

What is this about?

Don't you have even a slight idea?

Before asking you any questions I'd like to tell you something.

There are parish priests and confessors.

In the police it's the same.

We have inspectors and special commissioners.

And you're a police bishop?

Not so high-ranking, no.

But I'm a man who's seen a lot.

And who tries to understand everything.

You were in Biarritz when your husband died, weren't you? - Yes.

- Did you go to Biarritz often? - I would go there to visit my ill mother.

- And you stayed at your mother's? - Of course.

But you also stayed at the "Aquitaine" hotel several times.

And you weren't alone.

That's not true.

I didn't conduct my investigation in Lancourt, and my men didn't collect the local rumors.

I got my information from Biarritz and the "Aquitaine" hotel.

Your information is worthless.

My husband and I loved each other.

I've never been unfaithful to him. And I forbid you to...

Madame, let's not waste any time.

I've had your lover brought here from his home.

There he is.

I don't care whom you've brought along.

You want to intimidate me.

But there are no secrets in my life.

You behaviour is abominable.

It always begins like this, but I also know how it will end.

I'll now concern myself with your brother-in-law.

Do you claim that Gilbert Le Guen...

It might be a bit shocking but it's not me who wanted it this way.

Don't leave the room.

- Are you Commissioner Noblet? - Yes, I am.

I'm a notary and I know the law.

I allowed your inspector to bring me here to provide support for my sister-in-law

and to declare a protest.

Your protest is noted. Now come in there, if you please.

It's a linen room. I refuse.

If you insist, we can discuss this affair in public.

But let me warn you, people will talk.

And tomorrow the newspapers...

We'll be quite comfortable in the linen room.

What do you want to know? And be polite.

I've just had a chat with your sister-in-law.

And it didn't take much to get her to confess that she's your mistress.

You're lying! - Come now, politeness is a two-way road. Don't cheat.

It isn't true.

In Biarritz, at the "Aquitaine" hotel,

you two stayed at rooms Nº 47, 11, 17 and 48.

There was no bathroom in Nº 17. It was on August 15.

I've often been to Biarritz with a woman

but she wasn't my sister-in-law.

Yet she resembles her most closely.

M. Le Guen, your sister-in-law understood at once that lying about the goings-on

at the "Aquitaine" hotel would do her no good.

Very well. A point for me.

You have no right to draw such false and absurd conclusions. It's hideous.

I'm drawing no conclusions. We'll go about it methodically.

When did this affair begin?

This family drama has nothing to do with my brother's death. You have my word.

Personally, I'd like to believe you.

But do you think the jury will be satisfied with your word of honor?

The jury? What jury?

Considering the situation you and Françoise Le Guen are in,

you won't be able to avoid facing trial.

- I didn't poison my brother. - So, to find out who did poison him,

let's go back to the beginning.

With such a strange romance, I'd like to know who was the first to fall in love?

Which one of you first dared to declare, directly or not, their love to the other?

- Don't expect me to condemn Françoise. - So it was her?

This way. [MIND THE BEAM]

Don't move from this spot. And no talking.

Chief!

- It wasn't easy, but I got them here. - Perfect.

You'll deal with the girl, here. Get her off guard.

I'll take the old man. We'll get them yet.

But keep your head. Let the local police teach the Special Commissioner a lesson.

- Come with me. - M. Commissioner, I must protest again.

You have no right to bring and detain us here without a summons or a warrant.

You're a witness, naturally, we want to talk to you.

- It's a simple formality. Follow me. - And you are coming with me.

It stinks in here! - All the more reason to be done with this as quickly as possible.

You can have the stool.

It's all quite simple.

Le Guen gave you several millions, didn't he? And not for nothing, was it?

He was screwing you daughter, wasn't he?

Two years of perfect love and solid friendship. We can prove it.

Subsequently, Le Guen cooled down and drew up the balance.

Father and daughter had cost him a packet. We can prove it as well.

He asked for his money back. You didn't like it. Neither did your daughter.

We have witnesses to that effect. So, to get out of that fix,

you did away with him. Was it you, her, or did you do it together?

Are you going to talk crap like that for long?

Not too long, I'm pressed for time.

When did you see Le Guen for the last time?

Boussard was the last one he saw.

Are you sure? So after supper Le Guen went straight home

and conveniently died in his bed to arrange your affairs?

To arrange Boussard's affairs. - Because you had no interest in Le Guen's death?

- Exactly. - Very well.

Come on.

Do you know her?

This Mademoiselle spends every evening on the corner of the Avenue de la Libération

and the Rue Jean-Genet.

And you've often exchanged confidences with each other.

I'm too old to exchange these kind of confidences often.

When you were alone, did Dutoit talk to you about his relationships with Le Guen?

First I must say that Uncle, -

Uncle is him, - had weird fancies.

He always asked me to keep my gloves on. Nothing but gloves.

You might think, M. Commissioner, that it's very convenient.

- Once he even... - We're talking about Le Guen!

Dutoit told you about the money he owed him.

He did. - And he told you he didn't know how he was going to repay him.

That too.Did he strike you as a haunted, obsessed man?

He was obsessed with my gloves.

And with money as well.

To put an end to this ridiculous spectacle,

ask the Mademoiselle how many times I spoke

about my intention to poison Le Guen. He didn't!

But I know men, you can trust me on that.

And this one is capable of nasty things.

Because of what you are

I've always behaved decently towards you.

And even kindly.

Look at me. Right in the eye.

And repeat what I told you once and only once about my friend Le Guen.

Say it.

He would tell me that he couldn't stand Le Guen any more.

- You sure you recognize the Mademoiselle? - I'm certain.

She and M. Le Guen have stayed at my hotel at least 50 times.

- So? Will you confess? - No!

And those visits, did they take place regularly?

At first, yes. But then they became less frequent, as it always happens.

During the last visit they didn't get up to much.

They were arguing, and then M. Le Guen left slamming the door.

The bed hadn't even been slept in.

You can trust the expert,

M. Le Guen was fed up with this affair.

Still, nothing to say? - It's too disgusting to deserve a response.

Well, children, everything all right?

She denies the evidence. She denies everything!

Don't get upset. I made her Daddy talk.

And do you know what he told me?

That you've been having amours with Le Guen for two years.

- It's not true! - So, he's lying?

Very well. We'll remedy that.

Patiently and in good humour.

My husband was deported to Germany.

I had no news of him.

People told me he was dead.

I was alone, distraught.

Gilbert would come more and more often and then...

There you are.

When my husband returned, prostrate on a stretcher,

I thought he would die.

I admit:

I was waiting for him to die.

But at the same time, I was taking care of him. I nursed him back to health.

So, I asked my husband for a divorce.

But we had our son.

And in Catholic families, like ours, it's impossible.

So, I decided to go away with Gilbert.

I admit this as well:

Nothing would have stopped me.

Not even Alain.

But Gilbert didn't dare.

He was afraid of the scandal. So, I stayed.

It wasn't my fault that my husband threw himself into politics to distract himself,

and into the arms of a girl to comfort himself.

But nobody knew anything about all this.

I told you I'm a talented confessor.

So, when did you decide to kill your husband?

It wasn't me.

His death came as a deliverance for me,

but I didn't poison him.

I wasn't capable of it.

Come in.

Chief! I've got news for you!

- Where? - In the kitchen.

- Why the hell didn't you speak sooner? - But Monsieur...

Did someone pay you to keep your mouth shut? How much? - No, Monsieur.

- What do you know about the poison? - But I've never seen any poison...

Be careful! If you go on like this...

Leroy! You're intimidating the witness.

- I won't have any of it. - She saw the black dossier, Chief.

- Did you really, Madame? - Come on, spit it out!

Don't be rude with the witness.

Where did you see the black dossier?

- On Monsieur's table. - When was it?

When I came into the room where Monsieur was lying dead.

And then you telephoned someone from the family?

Monsieur's brother.

The notary went upstairs, and, following his visit, the black dossier was gone.

Yes, Monsieur.

You see, no need for all that bullying. I'll be in the linen room.

Well?

You've had time to think, haven't you?

Have you come to realize that it's over for you?

- I didn't poison my brother. - When did I say it was you?

By the way, what did you do with the black dossier?

- I've never seen the black dossier. - What patience we have to possess!

We try to be understanding, but it's no good.

The police and criminals will never see eye to eye.

I'm not a criminal. - I want to know what you did with the black dossier.

Did you destroy it?

Burn it?

The black dossier had nothing to do with my brother's death.

- I burnt it. - That's bad.

Now you can accuse me of killing my brother with a view to destroying the dossier,

if it amuses you. It was the other way round.

I burnt the dossier because my brother was dead.

You wanted to avoid the unnecessary scandal

and quarrels with Boussard, de Montessan and the others.

That's right.

It took me just a couple of hours to understand who you are:

A notary.

Fond of secrets and terrified of scandal.

Françoise Le Guen wants to get a divorce, - no, there'll be a scandal.

She wants to leave her husband, - no, there'll be a scandal.

- Nevertheless, you loved her. - Yes.

But you weren't afraid of scandal when she told you

- that she was going to kill her husband. - Françoise told me no such thing.

But after you had had time to think it over, on your own,

didn't it occur to you that she might have done it out of love for you?

And that out of love for you

she did something even more extraordinary:

Decided not to tell you anything.

Hey, Titiche, you have a visitor. It's the examining magistrate.

Titiche, have you gone deaf?

He's been like that for some time now. Leave us.

Boucher, I came alone, without your solicitor, without my clerk of the court,

so that we could talk frankly.

I had to keep you in prison. Don't be angry with me.

You expect me to be thanking you

for the bed, board and entertainment?

When I'm dying here of hunger, of cold and of all that hassle!

I can't explain the procedure to you.

Because I'm too daft, perhaps? My solicitor told me everything.

You're keeping me here to annoy Boussard.

And if the investigation lasts for 10 years,

am I supposed to spend them in this hole?

Tell me the truth and I'll let you go.

I've already told you I'd killed those three mutts. - Yes.

But you've never told me the real reason.

You don't dare. You're afraid.

But of what?

I'm here to protect you.

And a fine protector you are!

Did anyone pay you to break into Dutoit's house?

Did anyone pay you to get hold of the black dossier? Who was it?

Nobody paid me anything. I've never looked for that dossier.

You're so wrong, I feel sorry for you.

You think searching for truth is easy.

Boucher...

One can steal chickens and rabbits,

and even kill dogs, without being a villain.

Don't you want to help me?

While we're talking now,

innocent people are being threatened with very serious trouble.

Because of you, and your silence, they might have to face trial.

Or worse. Don't you understand how terrible it is for you?

Because for me it is terrible.

I'm not a bad man. You could see it for yourself.

But I can't change the truth just to please you.

However, I can prove to you that I'm not lying.

But that's strictly in confidence.

I wasn't the only one involved in this. I knew that!

- Somebody gave me the poison. - Who?

A lady-friend of mine.

I didn't tell you about her because I didn't want her to get into trouble.

But where did that woman get the poison?

Thérèse is a charwoman at the central chemist's shop.

Now you know everything.

Enough with your lies! You'd been poisoning Le Guen little by little for weeks.

And you used his supper with Boussard as an opportunity to strike the final blow!

It isn't true.

You began poisoning him at your place and finished him off at his house. Confess!

I'll say it to you once more:

I didn't see Le Guen on the night he died.

I didn't see him! I didn't see him!

Calm down, old chap. Look at me, I'm not getting so worked up, am I?

Mme Bouju!

Mme Bouju, take a good look at this man.

Get up!

Get up, I say!

Walk!

What I'm going to ask you is very important.

Never mind the vague impressions. I want you to be absolutely certain.

Have you ever seen this man?

- Yes, M. Commissioner. - Ah! Where?

I saw him leaving M. Le Guen's house. I recognize his height and build...

Now that I see him, I remember his beard.

Without a shadow of doubt?

In all honesty, it's him.

Thank you, Madame. That'll be all.

You see now?

A companion in captivity, a generous friend, who'd given you millions of francs,

was poisoned by you and you alone!

- I didn't poison Le Guen. - Then it was your daughter!

For god's sake, tell us it was your daughter and we'll let you go.

Well? Enough! I can't take it anymore!

Admit that Le Guen was planning to dump you!

Le Guen loved me... - But ended up feeling you smelt like the dogs you groom.

Admit he broke up with you.

Le Guen loved me. - And when he told you it was over between you,

was it you or your father who decided to off him?

- My father was a friend of Le Guen. - Your father is scum!

For money's sake, he let his pal screw you in his bed.

And for money's sake, he did away with this pal, didn't he?

- Admit it was your father! - My father didn't kill Le Guen.

Then it was you!

The plum was slipping away from you, so you killed him to get even.

- Confess! - I didn't kill Le Guen.

Well?

She refuses to see what's good for her.

- Here, I brought you some grub. - Thanks, Chief.

The grilling is bloody exhausting when it drags on.

Do you love your Daddy? That's good. One should love their father.

The thing is, your Daddy is carrying on in a weird fashion.

He says you killed Le Guen in revenge for his decision to return to his wife.

- Is it true? - I didn't kill Le Guen.

So it was your father who did?

Hey, when I ask you something, you answer!

I'm damned if she doesn't talk!

Look, Chief and me, we want to help you.

Condemning your own father is no fun, we get that.

So you only have to say "yes". Just once.

And then it'll all be over.

Say "yes".

Just nod your head.

Was it your father who killed Le Guen?

As you wish. We'll start again.

But mark my words, this time we'll go about it differently.

Who killed Le Guen? Who killed Le Guen?

Who killed Le Guen?

- Do you know who I am? - The young magistrate.

Well...

I went to see Boucher and he told me about you.

About me? Why?

He claims it was you who gave him the poison.

He told you that? But he couldn't have.

I'm convinced that somebody used Boucher,

and now he doesn't dare to tell the whole story.

If you have any affection for him, try to understand me.

The killing of the dogs can be written off as mischief,

but his silence is making him an accomplice to murder,

and that's the end of the road for him.

Why does he persist in lying?

He's not lying.

So it was you who gave him the poison?

Will I have any problems if I tell you what happened?

You won't, I promise.

Well, it was me.

Did anyone give you the poison?

- No. - Where did you get it from?

There.

- Which bottle? - This one.

ATROPINE SULPHATE POISON

Come in.

You want to make a call? - I didn't want to bother you but it can't wait.

Mme Piriou, on the day of Le Guen's exhumation

the clerk of the court asked you for some jars for the forensic surgeon.

Do you remember?

- Such things are Marcel's responsibility. - A 12-year-old boy!

It's not my job to provide jars for the judges.

- Where is Marcel now? - He's sleeping.

Excuse me. - It's too late at night to bother the children.

- Marcel! Marcel! Marcel, wake up! - What is it, Monsieur?

The jars they asked you to bring, where did you get them from?

What jars? On the day of Le Guen's exhumation.

Oh, those jars. I took them from the cellar.

- Where did you find them? - In your office.

You didn't need them any more.

But they were the same ones in which...

Marcel runs errands for everyone. It's not fair to reproach him.

The clerk of the court told me: "Find the jars".

Those jars were at hand. I emptied them and brought them to the cemetery.

I did as I was told.

You're up against the wall. Confess!

Mme Bouju, your daughter, everyone says it was you!

I didn't poison Le Guen... - The only way for you to save yourself is to confess!

- I didn't kill Le Guen. - Your turn, old boy.

Confess that it was you. Just one gesture of good-will and it'll all be over.

Was it you who made away with him? You don't want to say it? Very well.

It's your last chance. I count to 5.

1, 2, 3, 4...

- Now is your entrance. - But I've already told you everything.

And now you'll say it again in front of her. - Look, Chief...

Say, you aren't going to chicken out, are you?

She's nice. There's got to be a limit to one's meanness.

I have your papers. Here, look. With a favorable recommendation.

You'll be in Paris tomorrow.

Chief, would you do it if you were me?

Ah, I'd tell the truth!

I'm offering you an opportunity to redeem yourself and you refuse?

Tomorrow you'll be drinking our health at the Place de Clichy. Lucky bastard!

She's almost ripe. Wait for my signal.

It's silly to work yourself up to such a state,

when a single word is enough to put an end to all this.

Come on, just say it was your father. We already know that.

It's just a formality, nothing more.

Stop crying!

- Tell us your Daddy did it. - Leave her alone!

We felt sorry for you. You hear?

The questioning is over. Honest.

We just want you to meet a witness.

And that witness is your friend. Your best friend.

Come in.

Jo!

Close the door.

Come closer.

Why him? He has nothing to do with this affair, he didn't do anything.

As soon as he found out you were in trouble,

he volunteered to make a statement.

We're listening.

Yvonne, you're an awesome and brave kid.

Rather than accuse somebody, you'd let them tear yourself apart.

But I love you. I don't want this.

You're so kind. But don't worry about me.

It's been going on for hours. Let me tell them the truth.

I already told them I'd done nothing. I'm not risking anything.

That's true, you haven't done anything. She hasn't, I swear!

She loved Le Guen.

I was tormented by jealousy enough to know this for sure.

She didn't care about the money.

- Unlike her Dad. - Jo, why are you saying this?

Let him speak! His emotion has a ring of truth about it.

When you were burning the letters and photographs of Le Guen,

do you remember what you told me? No.

Look, I'm begging you, try to remember.

We were standing by the fireplace and you told me...

- I didn't tell you anything, Jo. - I'll be a coward if I'm silent about it.

After the supper with Boussard Le Guen went to your house, didn't he?

It's not true. - Little idiot, don't you see he's trying to help you?

Le Guen came to your house and your father gave him some powder.

- You told me so yourself. - But it wasn't poison.

But you admit that there was a powder? You just said it yourself.

And at Le Guen's place your father gave him a different kind of powder.

My father didn't go to Le Guen's house.

But you told me yourself he had brought him back to his house.

But Jo, you... you confuse the dates.

Or... you're doing it on purpose.

He went to Le Guen's place. Mme Bouju recognized him.

You told me: "If the police get hold of my father, he's done for."

But it was you who said that.

It doesn't matter whether it was you or me.

Jo, why are you doing it?

You're against us.

You're with them?

Oh, yes, you are!

And they were keeping you for the last moment, when I'm utterly worn down.

If your father did something crazy, it wouldn't be fair for you to pay for it.

He's a drug addict. He injects morphine into his veins.

Stop it, Jo! Stop it!

You've been hiding this from us as well.

He doesn't know what he's saying.

I do. He hides the drugs in a brass ball at the foot of his bed. I promise!

Do you want me to spit in your face?

You're even more despicable than them!

That's rich! He's trying to get you out of a fine mess and that's how you thank him?

They paid you to like me, to become my friend, to pretend to love me!

How much? Tell me the truth, how much did they give you, scumbag?

Yvonne... Enough with the love scenes. We're done.

Go on, skedaddle!

Tough luck

to have a bastard for a father and a lover who isn't much better.

Such is life, dear. Every man for himself.

Come on, write:

"My father killed Le Guen." Sign it, and it'll be over.

Think for yourself.

You became the mistress of your brother-in-law: Bad.

During your husband's internment in the concentration camp: Very bad.

Once your invalid husband is back you refuse to put an end to your liaison:

Detestable!

You can think of nothing but leaving home: Utterly damning.

And then your husband gets poisoned...

No judge will look any further. Nothing will save you. You will be helpless.

And your brother-in-law as well. You'll both be helpless. And condemned.

Public opinion won't be in your favor.

So, denial will serve no purpose,

but confession might perhaps bring you some advantage.

Are you listening?

Two culprits are excessive when only one will suffice.

Your brother-in-law understands it. He's an intelligent man,

and one of great generosity.

I see that you love him. And he adores you.

- He told you so? - 20 times!

The police are used to loathsome cases

where everyone accuses everyone else to get themselves out of the mess they're in.

But here it's the other way round.

I haven't encountered such an extraordinary case throughout the whole of my career.

Out of love, you killed your husband without telling your lover.

It's not true. - And you lover, having realized what you'd done,

came to the verge of assuming the responsibility for your crime.

Do you mean to tell me that Gilbert thinks I'm guilty?

- And that Gilbert is ready... - To do anything to save you.

Did he say so? - I had to make a quick exit, lest he confessed.

Poor thing! He's utterly incapable of killing anyone.

That's my impression as well.

But on the day of the murder he was here and you weren't.

With his confession, the jury won't be looking for anyone else.

Do you know how he'll pay for the murder of his own brother,

- considering the circumstances? - He didn't kill his brother!

- Then who did? - How am I supposed to know?

- I wasn't here. - A suspicious precaution.

You might have been giving your husband small doses of poison for months,

and left just when the end was near.

- That's not true. It wasn't me. - Then who was it?

Who is responsible for everything that's happened?

Who was prepared to go to any length to regain their freedom,

even to lose their son?

Who was hoping for Le Guen to die?

Who, among the people who live here, was capable of killing a man?

You asked me to be sincere with you.

And now you're turning my words against me.

I'm a policeman, Madame.

In this town, with its agitated citizens and municipal crisis,

with banks going out of business and suspects on every corner,

it's up to me to restore order. It's my mission.

A crime has been committed, and I need a culprit. For me, it's you.

But when you deny everything, what am I supposed to do?

Well?

Come in.

Excuse me, Chief, but M. Le Guen wants to see you.

- What for? - I don't know.

Very well, I'm coming.

You wanted it this way.

Don't go!

- Listen to me. - I have no time to lose.

Gilbert didn't kill his brother.

You've already told me that.

Gilbert did nothing, nothing at all!

It was me.

I knew that.

It was me. Me alone.

I knew that as well.

But to save us having to go over it all once again,

I'll need you to write a little note.

While everything is fresh.

Write.

"I was Gilbert Le Guen's mistress."

- No. No that. - But I don't understand.

Why else would you have killed your husband?

Confess. The jury will take it into account.

Admit it was you who killed him, and it'll all be over.

- So, will you say it was you? - Leave him alone!

Your daughter felt sorry for you.

She told me that during your internment you'd developed neurasthenia,

and that to placate the pain you had needed morphine.

That's not true.

What about this? Your little stash.

You planted it in my house yourself.

In the brass ball at the foot of your bed?

Only your daughter knew about that cache.

The jury will agree that a man, who came back from a death camp an invalid,

deserves their indulgence.

And if he committed a crime, he did it in a moment of insanity.

In these circumstances he won't be held responsible.

When it's a vice, expect no pity.

When it's a medical necessity, everyone will be understanding.

Here. Write that you killed your friend.

Sign it, and we're done.

We'll leave you to let you have some rest.

Are you going to walk around like that all night long?

- It's unbearable, I need to know. - You'll get used to it, old chap...

Hello? Flavier, of "The Patriot".

Yes, I'm listening.

That's it, they're calling a meeting for the press. - Who's the poisoner?

They didn't tell me that.

"That was the reason I poisoned him."

The handwriting of the signature is different from that of the confession.

Dutoit was exhausted after the interrogation that lasted 11 hours.

Non-violent interrogation, M. Magistrate, as you can see.

He finally gave in in the face of the testimonies

given by his daughter and the man who sleeps with his daughter.

And you signed this?

To put an end to it.

Give me my morphine, and I'll sign whatever you like.

But I'll say once more: I didn't kill Le Guen.

M. Magistrate, he's the man seen leaving Le Guen's house.

He had an obvious interest in Le Guen's death.

Under the pretext of treating him he made him drink strange mixtures.

It was none other than his daughter who told us about it.

And you admit to all this?

Give me my syringe. I'll do whatever you want.

M. Prosecutor?

What do you want me to say?

I'm sorry, but I don't want to accept statements obtained in this manner.

M. Magistrate, I can also present witnesses.

I know your witnesses. I don't want them either.

- Please leave the room, Monsieur. - Special Commissioner Noblet.

Please wait in my office, I'll call you.

M. Magistrate, Mme Le Guen is here to make a statement.

- I'm busy. - I've found the culprit.

So you just arrested the first person you saw, without studying the dossier?

My dear colleague, your dossier is worthless and your culprit even more so.

Unlike yours, right? My culprit has an advantage over yours...

Gentlemen, please!

M. Magistrate, I must insist that you receive Mme Le Guen without delay.

May I?

To my office, please, M. Prosecutor.

Please, gentlemen, make way!

I can't tell you anything now, but you'll know everything later.

- In a moment! - We've been waiting for 3 hours!

Madame.

I'm listening.

I persuaded Mme Le Guen to tell the truth about her husband's death. Madame.

For a year

my husband had a mistress.

I suffered a lot...

but, for the sake of my son,

I put up with it.

I was hoping...

that one day my husband would come back to me.

But that hope was thwarted.

My husband told me that he wanted a divorce.

He wished to begin a new life

with a girl unworthy of him.

I thought that such separation was unfair

after fourteen years of happiness.

So, in a moment of insanity...

I can't hear you.

So, in a moment of insanity,

I did that which you know about.

You're confessing to having poisoned your husband?

Yes.

We have before us a very moving story that is, however, devoid of any mystery.

Madame, please go to the adjoining room.

I'd like to talk to these gentlemen alone.

- But, M. Magistrate, I don't understand. - Give me a moment, please.

- What shall I do? - Do as the examining magistrate says.

Mme Le Guen didn't kill her husband.

Dutoit didn't kill his friend.

There are too many culprits for a crime that I'm no longer sure took place.

But it was you who intuited that there had been a crime.

You brought the town to the brink of revolution.

And now that we have a poisoner, you say there hasn't been any poisoning at all?

The forensic analysis has been compromised by an incredible detail.

The jars. The ones that were delivered to the forensic surgeon.

They contained the entrails of Dutoit's dogs.

So what?

The atropine sulphate, discovered by the experts,

was the poison used by Titiche.

Le Guen wasn't poisoned.

The only culprit

is Marcel, the boy who brought the jars.

What are you talking about?

Let's be serious, even if negligence did take place,

you'll never be able to prove it, never.

- But still, it's the truth. - The truth that stinks of lies,

the truth that will lead to the worst kind of mess.

We'll be accused of thinking up god-knows-what just to save somebody.

When Mme Le Guen has confessed!

A confession doesn't constitute a proof.

You're out of your mind.

We have, thanks to Mme Le Guen, a truth that's very human and very moving,

and you want us to exchange it for some utterly crazy story?

Arnaud, think for yourself.

When tomorrow morning all the newspapers

will be talking about the escapades of little Marcel,

how would that make us look? - People will know in what conditions we have to work.

Then go and tell the reporters about it. But do it alone.

That's what I must do.

My greater age allows me to give you a piece of advice.

When Paris demands an explanation, what will you say?

That I was 24 years old and that I was alone.

My investigation has been very well conducted.

I'm certain Mme Le Guen killed her husband.

You can believe it, but I won't.

It's up to you to make the decision, M. Magistrate. - I know.

The decision is mine.

Mine alone.

Arnaud.

You're just a boy, but I like you.

Don't derail your career.

I can't do otherwise.

Madame...

You didn't kill your husband, did you?

Thank you.