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THE EVENTS AND CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE FICTITIOUS.

ANY POSSIBLE RESEMBLANCE TO REALITY IS COINCIDENTAL.

BASED ON THE NOVEL BY MAX GALLO "AN INTIMATE AFFAIR"

A package for the lady of the house! Bye, Rico!

- I'll get you fresh flowers! - No, there's no need.

Alright, ma'am.

I'm begging you, please hear me out.

You're the only person I can still talk to.

You alone can still help me.

You've probably recognized my voice, this is Daniel Salmon.

My job is to invent stories, to create characters.

But now I want you to accept

that what I'm about to tell you is real.

And that, contrary to what some have claimed,

they weren't born of my writer's fantasies,

nor from a mental disorder

caused by an event in my private life.

I know now that in order to understand what happened,

we need to look at the city as a chessboard.

The events that took place there were

moments of a rigged game

whose rules I didn't know yet.

I had decided to get away from Paris

just a few weeks before.

My last book had failed and I was looking for my next novel's subject.

I didn't choose this city.

My editor, Rémi Lambert, did.

He suggested I go to work in Gilles Florian's apartment.

Lambert was his editor as well.

Florian had suddenly given up everything and left the city,

following a disappointment in love.

I can walk you to the station if you want!

No, thank you. Laure promised she'd come.

Salmon!

I almost missed you.

Laure apologizes; she couldn't make it.

So she sent her lawyer.

Don't take it badly.

True, she asked me to handle your divorce,

but I like you both.

I'm going to the south for a few weeks.

- Rémi Lambert has my address. - I know.

I also have a practice there, with a partner.

I'll call you!

At that moment, I still couldn't admit

that Laure really wanted to leave me.

I remember shivering as I left the station.

Perhaps the cool evening air had surprised me.

It's not sunny season, it's old people season!

We get that in winter!

And when it gets nicer,

they leave because it's too hot!

Except if they disappear first...

if they get killed.

An old lady was murdered three months ago here.

She was a regular at the casino. She won some money one night.

A guy followed her out and killed her!

Disgusting, huh?

I'd guillotine that young guy right away!

As soon as he's caught, but they never are.

Take off your glasses when you look at me.

Or don't look at me.

Funny, it was here!

- What? - The old lady.

She was murdered here!

Could you bring my trunk from the station tomorrow?

Sure!

With or without glasses?

No, it's fine, thanks!

My name's Gaspard!

Mija!

Mija!

Mija!

Are you Mija?

Mija!

- In the bush, right there. - Thank you, sir!

Mija! Come here!

I put eggs and milk in your fridge.

It's not much, but I didn't know what you liked.

- The bed has been made. - Thank you.

I was told an old lady was...

That's right.

Who knows what happened?

She may have been crazy, but she didn't open to just anyone!

I have a cat just like him in Paris.

Well, he's not really mine, it's my wife's.

Bad Mija, I was worried about you!

Who's that gentleman?

He's moving in with Mr. Florian.

I'll feel better with a neighbor.

- Hello? - - - Gilles!

- Who are you looking for? - - - Gilles! It's you! Are you back?

You have indeed reached Gilles Florian, but he isn't here.

I can take a message.

Who are you?

My name is Salmon, Daniel Salmon.

Tell Gilles that... Régine wants to see him.

Strangely, Florian had left a planner.

A circled R

was on every page, as if to mark appointments.

R, like Régine.

REGINE CALLED. SHE WANTS TO SEE FLORIAN.

I could feel the backdrop of the novel I wanted to write take shape,

just the way I like it.

PRIVATE CASINO CLUB

Fate was just waiting for me to provoke it.

Fate always responds to these provocations.

- Private casino circle? - I'd like to speak with Régine.

Régine? One moment.

Who do you want?

Régine. She just called me from this number.

Who's asking?

Gilles Florian!

Wrong number. There's no Régine here.

PRIVATE CLUB

So!

Did you come for a bit of gambling?

Oh, right, you...

That's Vallorba, the mayor.

That's his wife. He never gambles.

Never!

But her? Big time!

I don't know the Arab, though.

I took an interest in that private club.

Gaspard's complicity was my ticket to get in.

Denise welcomed me.

She was trying her best to brighten an off-season atmosphere.

That evening, I paid no attention to Raoul Taffa,

who was already, by force of habit, engraving my face in his memory.

I don't see Régine.

Régine's gone, she's not coming back.

At least, not tonight.

- If she's who wanted... - Not at all.

Not at all, Denise, on the contrary.

To us!

To you!

I'm not thirsty, I don't feel like dancing,

what else could we do?

Well, that depends, lots of things!

- Do you live far away? - No.

Who is that?

Lucien Richelmi owns the circle as well as the casino.

He owns quite a bit around here.

Shall we go?

What do you want?

To talk.

The price is the same, you know? What do you want to talk about?

Régine!

I want to know how to reach her.

- I have nothing to say about Régine! - She called me two hours ago.

Look, I don't want your money.

Get the hell out.

Take it and get the hell out! Got that?

Out I said!

- What are you so afraid of? - You're all bullshit,

Régine, Florian, and now you. Out!

I had scared Denise away with my questions.

After I left, she went back to the casino and told Taffa everything.

And Taffa reported to Richelmi.

- Are you already leaving us? - I shall return, Your Excellency!

Alright then.

I was to learn latter that it was at that moment

that it wasn't my novel that was unraveling.

What the hell is this guy doing?

It's no big deal.

It's not. Why are you worried?

Are you sure he has nothing on us?

What is there to find?

- I'm asking you, Lucien. - Come on, nothing at all.

There you are!

- Happy? - Very!

- Won? - I lost it all.

What do you care?

She's right!

She's a big girl.

It's not your money but hers she blows now!

That's right.

You smell good, little bitch.

Amber and cinnamon. Do you like it?

Say, honey,

Salmon, Daniel Salmon, does that ring a bell?

- Nothing! - Yes. A former journalist,

who became a writer, a famous writer.

I think he received the Interallié prize a few years ago.

I see!

He's pretty famous.

Hélène and I are the same, reading's not for us!

Speak for yourself!

I'd love to know why he is at Florian's.

And why he wants to see Régine.

Alright, I'll find out.

Hélène can help us.

- Again? - You two take care of it.

That Bedouin's starting to piss me off.

He won't stop over, will he?

Charles! I'd better go,

I keep losing.

Well, what a night!

Do you want to borrow some money?

Lucien, I'm counting on you.

Don't worry, Charles. Trust me.

- Mr. Salmon? - Yes.

Gilles Florian's business is very complicated.

Stay out of it. You'll only get into trouble.

And leave Régine alone.

Do you understand, Mr. Salmon?

Mr. Salmon.

Jurieux. I work for Sud Matin.

Who said I was here?

I read all your articles when you wrote for the Express.

Especially your investigations! At that time I wanted

to be a great reporter like you.

You didn't answer.

I was called to get information about you.

I gave them what I had.

There was still a double question I couldn't answer.

What are you doing in the city?

And why do you want to see Régine?

Who's asking?

The city, Mr. Salmon.

Knowing this might save you some trouble.

I'm sorry.

She's beautiful!

That's Clio, my favorite.

You can't have it.

- Can I have it back? - Sorry!

Mija!

My little Mija!

Mija!

Mija! My little Mija!

They killed her!

- Who? - They killed her too.

Who?

Grandma! What's the matter?

- Mija! - Take her upstairs.

- What about Mija? - I'll take care of it.

They killed Mija!

Like the old lady downstairs.

- Hush, Grandma. - But they did. It's them!

They'll come back for me.

- - - Mr. Salmon? - Yes.

It's Régine! I have to be short.

I'd like Florian's address.

I will try to get it for you. Where can I reach you?

I'll call you back.

Miss Dallé, I'm sorry about the other night.

- I hope that... - - - Don't do it again.

Don't look for me anymore.

STOP THE DEFINITIVE CONCRETING OF OUR COASTLINE.

WE MUST PREVENT THIS CONSTRUCTION PROJECT FROM SUCCEEDING.

COMMITTEE PRESIDENT, G. FLORIAN.

Last fall, Régine told Florian

that the St. Goma property belongs to a certain Mrs. Gravene.

The city wants to buy it

to turn it into a leisure center and a hotel center.

Mrs. Gravene refuses to sell and Gilles Florian supports her action!

Mr. Daniel Salmon? Hi.

I'm Hélène Mariani, your neighbor's daughter.

I wanted to thank you for what you did for Mija.

- May I come in? - Please!

I wouldn't want to intrude, it's late!

How is Clio doing?

Was it you?

Are you a friend of Mr. Florian?

He let me use his apartment.

Do you know her?

Régine?

Yeah, a little.

Can you tell me about Régine?

Does she interest you?

- What about that coffee? - I don't know how to...

Well, I think I'd better do it.

Did you come here to rest?

No, not write a novel.

About what? The city?

About the city and some of its characters!

Maybe I can be of help.

Come for dinner sometime.

I'll introduce you to some friends who can help.

I'll call you, alright?

I think that's for me.

Come in, I was expecting you.

Grandma fell asleep.

- We can go, Mom. - OK.

Mathilde, you've met Mr. Slamon, right?

Well, he's going to write a novel about our city!

Well!

Are you interested in scum?

It's all there is here, scum!

She obviously loves the city, huh?

Even Grevene lives here!

- Do you know her? - She's dead! She was killed!

So the old lady on the ground floor who had been

found murdered was Mrs. Grevene!

Look,

I'm expecting a crazy old lady.

You know, Mrs. Grevene? I need help...

soften her up, OK?

You're going to be very nice to her. Huh?

You know how to do that.

Like right now.

Please...

Honey, you should have said you didn't like it.

I had to force myself. Not my luck.

I'm relying on you for the old lady.

You want me to sell you my St. Goma property,

but I don't want to.

What can you do about it, Mr. Mayor?

Nothing!

No, I'd just like to persuade you that...

your math is all wrong.

I've spent the last 40 years gambling every night and I'm still rich.

You're in no position to teach me math.

Yes, come in, honey.

My wife was dying to meet you.

- Hello, ma'am! - Mrs. Gravene. Mrs. Vallorba.

I thought you'd be older.

Thank you!

We do have grandchildren, you know?

Get their picture, honey.

I've always hated children!

People say I'm crazy,

but not crazy enough to have kids!

Alright.

Let's get back to business.

Mrs. Gravene,

you know, St. Goma International is giving you a good price.

I've decided that this property will remain as it is.

Lovers walk there, and kids play there on Sundays!

Did you get these ideas from your friend Florian?

I don't need anyone telling me what to do!

But your heir is rather favorable to this project, isn't he?

My nephew will do as he wishes when I'm dead!

Goodbye, Mr. Mayor!

I'll have my driver take you home.

No need. Walking is good for your health.

Goodbye, ma'am.

Bye.

She's funny.

Do you think so?

I'm going to get rid of that old bitch!

Her crappy environmentalist will hear from me!

Régine didn't call me back.

This silence intrigued me.

I needed to know.

Gaspard was the only person who could help me find her.

Is anyone here?

Régine?

Yes?

I was in the basement cutting the power.

I won't forget the tape.

I had entered like a thief into the intimacy of a love story

the likes of which I will probably never write.

René Grander was wrong.

Florian and Régine were madly in love.

So why did Florian leave?

Hello, you have reached 24.90.63.

This is Régine. I am traveling at the moment.

Please leave a message,

I will call you back when I return.

Goodbye.

Régine,

it's Daniel Salmon.

I found Florian's address you asked me for.

Call me as soon as you can.

I'll stay here until you come back.

Mrs. Vallorba.

- Mr. Verdet. - Good evening.

Mrs. Verdet.

Mr. Ripoix.

Mr. Richelmi.

Delighted.

Our mayor.

Charles Vallorba! What are you doing?

So you're Salmon!

Funny, I imagined you different.

Take one.

- Still can't serve champagne! - Nope!

But I can drink it! You'd better do it.

Of course.

So, what do you think about our city, Mr. Salmon?

I don't know it very well yet.

People focus a lot on its history,

like the Greeks, the Romans, etc.

Sure, our roots

are important.

I'll show you where I was born one day.

In the lower part of city, in the mire.

You must stay up to date!

There you have it.

Now it's become a metropolis of pleasure.

Looks pretty good, doesn't it?

That's our capital.

And I'm exploiting it!

Does that shock you?

- Well... - I can tell

pleasure's not your thing.

It is!

- Mathilde! Won't you say hello? - Hello. Hello.

Hello.

- I'm going out, Mom. - Don't be home too late.

Here, Mathilde.

Take it!

She's wild, huh?

- Shall we eat? - Finally!

I really enjoyed your latest novel. The Lost Eden.

Thank you.

Will you excuse me? I left my cigarettes in my jacket.

So, Salmon,

I hear you're writing a book?

About the city?

I told you, we're all interested in this!

- What is it about? - A wolf dog.

A little dead cat.

And a woman whose face was painted on a painting.

Doesn't seem that exciting!

Mr. Salmon is surely using metaphors!

Yeah, right!

In clear terms?

Imagine a...

a wolf dog that came from the mountain.

It's no-one's.

It belongs to the city, really.

Sort of hidden by the city!

You were right Lucien! Symbolism is showing its face!

The wolf-dog slits the throat of a little cat in a park,

near an apartment where an old woman was herself murdered.

By whom?

I don't know the murderer's name anyway.

Or why he killed her.

Should we understand you're mixing fantasy and real life?

Who's the woman in the painting.

I'm thirsty!

I don't know. I just know she reminds me of my wife.

It's very confusing!

Please keep going.

What are you trying to prove?

I'm trying to establish the link between all these elements,

but mostly to understand this fear that I feel everywhere in the city!

- What fear? - A writer's fantasy, dear friend!

I'm also interested in the murderer.

The city?

So if I understand correctly, according to you, Mr. Salmon,

the city is guilty.

It would be the murderer.

I don't have any evidence yet.

Tell me, Salmon,

we're the city, aren't we?

Everyone sitting at this table is.

- We're on probation then! - Well, let's make the most of it!

Shall we end the evening at the Circle, Lucien?

Let's go!

Oh, well.

Can I say something, Salmon?

What separates us

is that the city makes you ponder

while it gives me a hard-on!

Mathi...!

Do something!

I can't do it. I can't handle this masquerade!

Mathilde!

- Why are you doing this? - To have fun, of course!

Come down!

On which side?

Come down, Mathilde.

Oh, you...

Have a nice evening anyway.

These kids need to be spanked!

I'm not going to the casino.

I'll go home with the Verdets.

Are you alright?

Can you drive?

No, it's fine.

Thanks, you can leave it.

I like this joint.

If there were a brothel I'd go often.

In other cities, mayors visit

factories and nurseries,

but I'd visit brothels.

We may not have any oil, but we have this!

If you need me to tell you how it works,

you just have to ask!

I'd rather ask you

what's going on with the St. Goma property.

Are you here to write a book or propagandize during the elections?

What's wrong with my question, Mr. Vallorba?

I don't like the way you stick your nose in everything, Mr. Salmon.

I'm warning you, if you intend to tarnish my city,

I'm very touchy about that!

Anyway!

I think I'm bored. I want to go home.

Will you take me home, Daniel?

Of course.

Goodnight, Charles. Goodnight.

I'd set your kid straight

if she were mine.

But she's mine.

Goodnight, Denise. Gentlemen.

I need you to love me tonight, Daniel.

Don't look at that picture! I look terrible.

I suggest you drink the orange juice, I botched the coffee.

Good morning.

I have to get dressed, I'm late.

Mathilde is Richelmi's daughter, isn't she?

You think making me come

last night gives you the right to ask?

Last night, you stopped me from saying Régine's name,

as well as Mrs. Gravene's.

What are you afraid of?

You were boring everyone, that's all.

No.

You're a bad liar, Hélène.

The truth is that you're as scared as the rest;

Régine, Denise, your mother...

And you quiver

at the thought of Mathilde learning she's Richelmi's daughter.

Asshole!

Mr. Salmon,

I was not born like you, with fairies around my cradle.

I was born in the river, in the mire as Vallorba would say!

And like him, I had to fight to get out of it,

to be what I am and have what I have!

Do you think I began like them?

You're close to the truth.

And to top it off, I got myself pregnant at 17.

So you can see I won't let a guy like you ruin it.

You and your friend Florian, with your ideals!

Denise, Régine and I are the ones who'll pay for it!

But we still do less ugly stuff with our asses than you with your mind.

I feel like I'm being pulled into a spider's web.

Increasingly trapped in it.

The beast hasn't shown itself,

but I know it's deep in its hole, watching me,

waiting for the right time.

- Mr. Salmon? - Yes.

Commissioner Morel. Detective Tristani.

Would you mind coming to the station with us, Mr. Salmon?

- Why? - Just a routine check.

Her body was set on fire.

With gasoline.

And without the storm that broke out that night,

we wouldn't have found anything.

- Can I steal a cigarette from you? - Please do.

Why did you want to see Régine so badly?

At Florian's place, there were several portraits of Régine,

and she looked like my wife in these paintings.

And in real life?

I never saw her.

I went to her place, but she wasn't there.

There was a guy there. He put Régine's stuff in a suitcase.

Including these shoes.

He didn't see me, I was hiding.

What did he look like?

Would you recognize him?

It was dark.

You're a smart man, Mr. Salmon.

I assume you've read them, your fingerprints are on them.

We found your fingerprints all over her place.

Do you really think I killed her?

Not really.

Unless you don't have an alibi for the night of the 5th to 6th!

Because according to the building manager,

you didn't come home that night.

That's the night Régine was killed.

It's in your interest to tell me where you were, Mr. Salmon.

I was with Hélène Mariani.

What do you want?

To apologize for what I had to tell Morel.

You really had no other choice.

I'm busy.

Hélène,

the night your came over,

I know you read certain things on the planner

that was on my desk.

Did you tell anyone about it?

Are you crazy? Why would I do that?

What are you going to imagine again?

Régine has been executed, that's not my imagination!

Régine had a complicated life. Like everyone.

Régine died because she knew who killed Mrs. Gravene!

You're talking nonsense! Leave me alone now!

Get the hell out!

You're right, I'm sorry.

My imagination does go overboard sometimes.

Denis, I'll be late tonight.

Eat without me and kiss the kids for me.

You'd make a terrible cop, Salmon.

Who do you think I was on the phone with?

Well, shall we get a drink or take a walk?

I could be wrong,

but I think Régine was punished by her pimp.

I think you're wrong.

And I think you know that.

You're pretty curious, Salmon,

you're wrong about me, and many other things!

Who do you think killed Mrs. Gravene?

A kid. He was identified.

But he's on the run.

You don't think it's related to Mrs. Gravene

to sell her St. Goma property?

Ah!

Your investigation seems to be going quite well.

I'm not sure you're really trying to find out

what's going on in this city.

Knowing doesn't mean a thing.

I need proof in my line of work.

You don't want to prove anything!

You're under Morel's thumb, like the others.

You talk too much, Salmon.

And you're full of shit.

That combination makes you a dangerous man.

That's right, Salmon,

you've guessed it.

I'm aiming my gun straight at you.

I'll kill you.

I'll throw your body in the water

and rid the city of a guy who knows too much about it,

and about me.

What's one more murder at this point?

Everything will be back the way it was,

and you'll die a martyr.

Would you like that?

You don't chicken out easily, eh?

That's what I would have to do if I were the cop you think I am!

Salmon,

should anything happen to Hélène because of you,

I will kill you.

I'll kill you without anyone else asking me to.

I was beginning to enjoy meeting the wolf dog.

It was proof that it wasn't the fruit of my wild imagination,

even if it had become a character in my novel.

The St. Goma property,

so coveted by the city,

didn't come from my fantasies either.

It was very real.

As were the traces of Régine's burnt body.

What are you doing here?

This is Pierre. Pierre Vallorba,

the Mayor's son, Mr. Salmon.

Surprised we're together?

No, just surprised to find you here.

Where Régine was killed?

What about you?

Do you know who's behind St. Goma International?

And who bought this property after Mrs. Graven was murdered?

Charles Vallorba, Richelmi, Verdet, my mother,

Pierre's mother,

she even manages it.

I already told you my mom had nothing to do with it.

My father did all this.

Let's go home, Pierre.

You should stay out of it.

I was both surprised and worried

to see that Mathilde and Pierre were so concerned about what had happened.

Don't do it, Mathilde, the flowers are poisonous!

That's true. Are you crazy? Spit it out!

- But it's good, it's sweet. - Spit it out, I said.

Can you two lovebirds stop it?

How is it going, kids?

Having fun? Life's not too hard?

The old man does all the work, eh?

I need to leave, ma'am.

Mathilde, should I

pick you up from your mom's or grandma's in the morning?

- I don't know where I'll stay yet. - Yeah,

it can't be easy living with you!

What a dimwitted kid.

What's wrong with her?

Personally, I think she has bad manners.

For you, I think she's not even fuckable!

What? Am I wrong?

Please watch your language!

You're your father's daughter!

Mr. Gillard!

His poor bastard voters

understood so little of what he said that they ended up firing him.

And I, speaking like a Chartier, I made it!

And I got it all!

The mayor's office,

the Gillard business, and you with it, gorgeous!

As a bonus!

Oh, come on! It's that little bitch's fault,

I was in a great mood when I arrived!

AN OLD LADY MURDERED

OWNER OF THE ST. GAUMAT PROPERTY

It's rather convenient for us!

With her health, she'd have been a pain in the ass for a while!

Listening to you, I'd think...

What?

Listen, sweetheart, if it makes you feel better,

I swear I didn't kill the old lady.

But if Morel finds out who did it,

I'll go kiss him in his cell before they guillotine him!

You disgust me.

You'll never understand anything!

You poor fool!

What's going on? Aren't we going to eat?

It's Jacques' day off and Mom doesn't feel well.

I see!

I can tell you what's wrong with your Mother.

She's accusing me of having an old woman murdered

for a business deal.

You're exaggerating.

Well, an old lady was killed!

Mrs. Gravene!

Did you know her?

A little.

She lived near Mathilde's grandma!

So,

here's the deal:

I decided to buy the St. Goma property

to build new hotels,

a casino and playgrounds

to create new jobs for everyone here.

But the owner didn't want to sell.

I insisted, but she wouldn't budge.

Now,

it so happens

that the old lady

was murdered by a thug.

I think it's sad,

but I'll be able to buy the property now!

See?

Your mother

doesn't think I'm mourning the old lady enough,

but I'm sorry, try as I may, I just can't,

so now I'm a monster.

The new Al Capone.

I think you're exaggerating a little, Dad.

Please, Florence.

Here, eat.

Are you coming, Pierre?

You know,

let me tell you something.

When you were little...

Pierre, listen up.

I'd sometimes go

weeks without seeing you,

without kissing you.

Why do I do that?

All these sacrifices? Is it for money?

For glory?

No!

I'll tell you why.

It's because I love people here.

I love this city.

And I want everyone to be happy.

That's why. Do you want to try this, Pierre?

Open up.

There you go!

You know what, Pierre?

We're taking our girls out tonight, we'll celebrate.

Remember, I had a mean right hook back then,

but three at once was too hard.

And George!

He got involved.

He shattered the opposition!

Chairs flew a pretty long way!

Remember?

You were pregnant with Pi...

No, with Florence!

- That's right! - Yeah, it was Florence!

It was wonderful. I was worried for her!

You should've seen your mom!

Sitting straight, dignified on stage!

She didn't move a muscle!

- Was it to your liking, sir? - Very good, Gillo!

Your bouillabaisse is always great!

Let's go.

You didn't use to be so formal with me.

I wouldn't dare anymore.

You must kidding.

I'm asking you to.

- Until next time. - Bye.

Bye. Goodbye, ma'am.

Thank you, bye.

Good night, sir.

How is it going, Charlot?

- Good, and you? - Good.

George,

did you hear that guy? Charlot!

Tell that asshole the next time he calls me that,

you'll break his legs.

You drove very well, Pierre. Good job!

Pierre!

- About Mathilde... - Huh?

- Can you forgive me? - Of course.

You know, I like that kid after all.

At your age, though, I preferred them a bit more...

Yeah, but that's not the trend now.

I see!

Go ahead.

See Georges? Kids aren't

even interested in a nice ass anymore.

- Goodnight. - Goodnight.

Goodnight, Dad.

- Goodnight. - 'Night.

No reading!

- Goodnight, Charles. - Are you coming in?

I always give back what I get!

Don't ever make me do tonight's act again!

Where are you going?

You'd like to leave, but you can't, huh?

You can't help it.

Are you ashamed?

Look at me.

You would have been a nice whore, you know?

Huh?

You like that.

Tell me you like it, my little whore!

Yeah.

You smell nice!

You smell like love.

You want to meow like a cat!

Huh?

You want me to make you come?

Say you want me to make you come.

Yeah.

Your husband a murderer...

I only murder you.

With this!

It happened shortly after Régine died.

Inspector Tristani picked me up on behalf of Morel

and drove me to Denise's without an explanation.

A bullet to the heart!

She died instantly.

He was in a hurry, he slit his wrists,

but shot himself in the chest to speed things up.

- Who is it? - Gilles Florian.

He called me last night when he arrived.

He booked a hotel room so as not to disturb you.

I was supposed to meet him this morning at ten.

What did he tell you on the phone last night?

Nothing that would explain this.

Florian comes back from the US,

kills Denise, then himself.

And you believe this version?

I believe in what I can see.

But I suppose you have another version?

Yeah!

And you know what it is, Morel.

But it scares the crap out of you.

Salmon! Salmon, listen!

I asked Denise some questions after Régine died.

She didn't know anything.

I swear, I'd bet my life on it!

Your life's safe anyway.

Denise was scared because Régine had confided in her.

Florian tried to make her talk! They knew it!

I don't know how, but they did.

- And they killed them both! - What a load of crap!

If you were right, that would mean you were next on the list!

Come on,

disappear, leave the city.

Since I've been here, I've been watched, followed,

even threatened!

And I know I'll be in danger the day I leave this city.

They wouldn't dare here.

And besides, I'm under

your protection here, right?

- right? - Fuck you!

Rémy Lambert came from Paris for Florian's funeral.

He was skeptical of the version of events I gave him

as he found it similar to the dark climate of my novels.

Crime on the coast, the body of Denise Payrol, 24, was discovered.

She was a hostess at a private club. She was shot.

The murderer, Gilles Florian, 40,

a historian and former professor at the University of Aix en Provence,

committed suicide by her side.

A simple agency report written by...

Jurieux.

Rémy, I think I'm going to write an article on this for the Express.

I'd rather you let me

persuade the Express to send someone from Paris to interview you.

COTE D'AZUR TERMINAL

Who are you?

Sorry about that.

Miss.

Can you make an announcement about a car in the parking lot?

Yes, is it blocking you?

Yes, it is.

8752 RQ 06.

Alright.

The owner of the car with plate number 8752 RQ 06

is requested to move their vehicle.

The owner of the car

with plate number 8752 RQ 06

is requested to move their vehicle.

A glass of milk, please.

I was sure the Express

would send Catherine Vernier to interview me.

You haven't changed much, Salmon.

In what sense?

How did go with Vallorba?

Not bad, thanks.

You don't want me to start with you, you'd have influenced me!

My train's in 15 minutes; we can talk.

I see you haven't changed either.

Can I buy you a drink?

I'll have what you're having.

Waiter! Another 51.

Look, I've spoken to the mayor, Jurieux,

Verdet, all kinds of local figures.

You're entertaining everyone, Salmon.

See that guy in the raincoat?

He's a cop.

He's in charge of my protection.

I know. The commissioner told me about that.

But he doesn't know you as well as I do!

But don't worry,

I didn't tell him all this seemed absurd to me.

Whether you decide to write your article or not, I'll write mine.

We're not doing the same job anymore, my dear Salmon.

I ask questions,

I try to get clear answers and I analyze them.

I'm not obsessed with accusations, especially proofless.

And I'm not writing a novel.

Mr. Salmon, do you mind if I go grab a bite to eat?

You can even go fuck yourself!

If you want to, that is.

After what happened at the airport,

I no longer saw the white car.

They had probably found another way to keep an eye on me,

but I hadn't figured out which one yet.

That morning, Tristani had disappeared, too,

Morel was no longer protecting me.

As I suspected, Catherine didn't publish anything in the Express

and I decided to write an article that Liberation agreed to run.

I should have thrown you in the water the other night!

Are you happy now?

SUNNY SERIAL MURDERS

You've got all up against the wall!

What the hell were you thinking?

The start of truth!

Damnit, Salmon, you're dreaming!

I've never seen the truth come out of a shitstorm!

I know what I'm talking about, I'm a cop!

Let me tell you what will happen:

I don't know where or how,

but they'll get to you eventually.

By any means!

Mr. Salmon,

I have a letter for you from Mathilde.

She had written:

Pierre has decided to follow Mathilde,

and Mathilde to follow Pierre.

Together, we chose to follow the same road.

As for the others,

may God forgive them, if He can,

as we forgive those who love us.

But if we lived, our blood, like theirs, would become mud.

It was signed Mathilde and Pierre.

I was told what had happened

in the following hours some time later,

through various testimonies.

I want him dead! Got it, Ripoix?

I want Salmon dead!

The legislative elections are around the corner,

I don't want that guy in my way!

What do you think, Lucien?

I think Salmon went too far and exposed himself.

He needs to be silenced!

The only we can do right now is to sue him for libel.

Charles as the mayor,

and Lucien as representative of St. Goma International!

Put Francine on it, too!

She's the manager, after all.

She's mostly a Gillard, one of the city's oldest families.

That's a great idea, Charles!

What do you want?

Mr. Verdet would like to be seen, sir.

He's in your office. He says it's important.

Important, yeah, right! He's in on it, too!

Paul, I'm counting on you to destroy Salmon in your newspaper!

And you, Morel, you're in trouble this time!

Charles.

That's not why Morel and I are here.

It's Pierre.

Your son.

What is it?

An accident?

Yes.

- Is it bad? - You should come with us.

The truth, right now.

He's dead.

He wasn't alone.

The Mariani girl was with him.

What happened?

Of course,

the moped?

Sedatives.

Where?

- Speak, damnit! - The St. Goma property.

Where Régine Dallais's body was found.

- Where are they now? - At the hospital.

- Who did you tell. - No-one.

Except Hélène, of course.

Lucien is with you. I'll tell him.

Go ahead. I'll be right there.

So, what did Verdet say?

He agrees.

I need to leave, continue without me.

Charles.

Don't worry.

It will all be fine.

Georges, stop. Georges, stop!

You know, Georges,

my son, Pierre,

that little prick,

he's dead!

You're home early.

What's going on?

There was... an accident, Francine.

You know, the moped...

Is it Pierre?

Yeah, but it's fine, it's...

How bad was it?

Tell me the truth!

He's dead?

It's that little bitch's fault!

Georges!

Call a doctor!

Francine.

Francine, darling.

Wild rumors went around the city all day.

They said Mathilde and Pierre had been found on the hill of St. Goma

slaughtered by a wild dog.

Mom!

Mom!

Mom, open up!

Open the door!

Leave me!

Mom!

Mom! What did you tell her?

What did you tell Mathilde?

That I saw him, I told you that.

I saw the man who killed Mija and Mrs. Grevene.

Not that! Have you lost your mind?

Did you mention her dad?

Mr. Richelmi?

Yes, I think so.

She killed herself, Mom, do you understand?

Mathilde killed herself!

Hélène asked me to take her away, anywhere.

She didn't want to go home.

She had been especially afraid to confront Richelmi.

Mathilde hated Richelmi.

I think she suspected something.

One day, she told me:

"If you tell me who my father is, I'll kill myself."

I don't think that's the only reason Mathilde was led to do that.

You mean Pierre, because he did it with her?

It's not, it's because they loved each other,

they were madly in love, the kind you don't hear about anymore.

No-one.

And besides,

I mostly think they didn't want to become

like us!

Once on the island, when we arrived at the hotel,

she wanted to take a shower.

Hélène?

Hélène?

Thanks.

Look in my bag, Daniel.

There's a notebook.

It was Mathilde's.

Read it.

I think she meant for me to find it.

Or she would have destroyed it.

Do you remember the dinner at my place?

It was Richelmi's idea.

Vallorba was worried.

I obeyed them, as I always have.

Even when you asked me to spend the night?

I do take vacations once in a while.

Are you scared of Richelmi?

I'm involved in everything he does.

He can easily throw me back where I came from.

And take it from me.

Did you see what Mathilde wrote in her notebook?

A list of my lovers!

Carefully updated.

Taffa is amongst them.

I don't know how Mathilde found out.

I'm dizzy.

I think I took too many pills to numb the pain.

Don't worry,

I didn't take enough to die.

I'm not brave enough.

Try to get some rest.

I have one more thing to tell you.

It's about Taffa.

Mom saw him leave Mrs. Gravene's the night she was killed.

She told Mathilde and I.

I made them swear not to tell...

anyone.

But I...

I was afraid for them,

for Mathilde and Mom.

Stay.

Grangier had come from Paris to plead a case and asked to see me.

He didn't want to talk about Laure,

but about Vallorba's lawsuit against me.

I'd like to give you some advice, Salmon.

In this kind of trial, hard evidence,

or a witness, is essential to stand a chance.

I have no doubt that you have such things.

I have what I need.

A witness?

So in that case...

But be careful, Salmon.

Witnesses can waver at the last moment.

You know,

everyone here thinks that, as these early elections approach,

Vallorba is more interested in a seat in the house

than in starting a trial.

Go on.

Chance has a way to surprise us sometimes.

I happen to know the lawyer

representing your opponents' interests.

I have no intention of negotiating.

We didn't have time to talk about Laure.

It's better that way.

Still, I wanted to tell you that

the conciliation has been scheduled for next Thursday.

Naturally in Paris.

I'll be there.

I believe you've met?

Mr. Ripoix, my partner.

Yes, I've already dined with Mr. Salmon.

Pass along my answer.

I came to see you the following day.

I had heard that you had fled to your late parents' house

when your son died.

I knew that my approach was difficult, Mrs. Vallorba,

but I had to see you.

I'm here!

Here, Mr. Salmon.

Does my visit surprise you?

No, I thought you'd come sooner or later.

I knew your son a little.

Yes, I know. He often told me about you!

He wanted to read your novels and I happened to have them.

It's not very easy, is it, Mr. Salmon,

to come tell a woman that you suspect her husband of having

ordered a murder?

- I didn't say that. - No, but you're implying it.

Charles is capable of many things, but certainly not of the crimes

you seem to be accusing him of.

I understand.

I'm afraid you don't, Mr. Salmon.

If I had any suspicion my husband was responsible

in this matter, I could never forgive him.

But do you have any proof

that would force me to side with you against my husband?

Against the father of my children?

I was offered a settlement for the trial.

It didn't come from me.

I absolutely want the trial to take place!

I want the truth!

If you're proved right,

I won't hold it against you, Mr. Salmon.

But if you're wrong,

I will, very much so.

That day, I didn't dare tell you that Hélène had agreed to testify.

An appointment made by your husband

confirmed that I was holding the best cards

in the game that was being played.

That's it.

I was born there.

That's what we played as kids.

Right here.

The closest to the wall wins.

I'm supposed to tear it all down,

but I can't bring myself to do it.

Superstition.

Are you superstitious, Salmon?

Not at all.

Why did you want to meet with me?

Do you have a cigarette?

What do you know, Salmon?

You're dragging me to court, you'll find out then.

Ah, fuck!

I don't care about the trial.

I'm asking you man to man.

What do you know?

You don't seem so sure of yourself anymore.

You're getting scared, Vallorba.

You still don't get it.

What pisses me off is being made to look a fool!

Because I don't know anything!

I'm telling you in person, I don't know anything!

I don't believe you.

You think I just go around killing people?

That a man like me will risk his career for... what?

A piece of land? Some bullshit?

Some bullshit that will make you a billionaire!

In old francs, but...

I only have one child left, Salmon.

You know that.

I swear on her head

that I had nothing to do with these murders!

When I learned my son had died,

I almost blew my brains out.

You're the reason I didn't do it.

Does it surprise you?

I could see you drawing conclusions already!

Vallorba...

killed himself to avoid a scandal.

Alright, so here's the deal:

since you don't want to believe me,

I'm going to destroy you, Salmon.

Just like I'll end up taking down this shithole.

Stone by stone,

I'll have your hide.

Piece by piece.

I fight even when I'm wrong.

And this time I'm right.

One more thing.

Leave my wife alone!

Don't try to turn her against me, you won't succeed.

Jurieux!

Let him through, he's a journalist, a friend of mine.

- What happened? - An explosion.

- Are there any victims? - Just one, but nothing serious.

Mrs. Mariani wasn't there when it went off.

- What happened? - A car parked in the basement.

The extreme left claimed responsibility for the attack.

Well,

that what a guy told the police over the phone.

Good thing you weren't in the store!

Lucky me!

- Are you leaving? - As you can see.

I was told I needed a change of scenery.

- A long vacation. - Who?

My doctor, of course.

You should forget my words.

I need you to testify, Hélène.

I think they know, don't you see?

They're just trying to scare you.

They did a pretty good job.

I burnt Mathilde's notebook, Daniel!

I'll swear I don't know anything, that I didn't tell you anything.

My mother was mistaken. She's old and senile.

She didn't see Taffa.

- Hélène, you can't! - Oh, I can!

My mother told me she was almost run over yesterday.

And that will happen again

if you don't leave me alone, if I don't leave.

I'm finished without her.

So give me a chance, I have no other choice.

Oh, no, please leave!

Leave.

It wasn't me.

It could've been, but it wasn't.

I came to see you, I found the door kicked in

and all this mess!

What do you think they were looking for?

They didn't find it.

You're lucky nothing happened to Hélène!

I guess you'll be calling a few local lefties.

We look after them so they can be of some use from time to time.

Life's about to get tough for you, Salmon.

I don't have enough men to protect you right now.

I understand.

I heard you're off back to Paris?

News travels fast!

Will we meet again?

I intend to call you as a witness at the trial.

I'd hate for anything to happen to you.

With all the cigarettes you smoke,

you should buy a lighter.

Yes?

Laure, it's me.

- - - I'm coming home. - When?

Right away!

I was expecting you next Thursday.

I need to see you and talk to you.

I knew it was risky of me to leave the city,

but I wanted to see Laure.

I couldn't accept losing her.

- Mr. Salmon! - Is my wife upstairs?

I think she came home about an hour ago.

Thank you, Mrs. Darmon.

Laure?

Laure?

Laure, are you here?

Hello, it's Salmon.

You're back?

Would you like to speak to Rémy? Where are you?

Home. Well, at Laure's.

Rémy is on his way to you.

- - - Laure asked him to stop by. - She's not here.

That's strange, she called from home not long ago!

Thank you.

Mija? Huh...

Bisou?

Bisou?

But why?

Daniel! What's going on?

Daniel!

All that was left was to run away.

I gave everyone, including Rémy Lambert,

weapons with which they could finish me off.

As Daniel Salmon seems to be having a nervous breakdown,

one may fear for the life of the famous novelist.

Salmon has indeed killed his wife with a gun that he apparently kept.

Rémy Lambert, his editor and friend,

as well as Catherine Verdier, will share their thoughts on this tragedy.

Every word they spoke condemned me further.

They felt that my reporting of events in the city

had been influenced by my personal problems.

I know if the killers find me,

they'll kill me with the gun they used to kill Laure.

They'll hope to make it look like I killed myself

and reduce this story to what the press has called

an intimate matter.

To defend myself, I still have my book, which I am finishing.

I heard that Morel was transferred

and that old Louise Mariani, who saw Taffa leave

Mrs. Graven's house on the night of the murder, was committed.

Hélène won't talk. Ever.

Mrs. Vallorba,

you are the only person

who can still testify that I wasn't mistaken.

Should you refuse,

at least be the last one to think I've gone crazy.

Poor guy!

How long have been there?

I've just arrived.

What does he say?

His story.

Sad.

I do think it's sad.

Do you think he really went crazy?

Crazy?

You heard what they said.

Even his friends!

Can you tell that someone...

who imagines things is crazy?

It's called schizophrenia.

Is that so?

If you say so.

Speaking of crazy,

that's why I came up here.

Florence sent a card from London.

- Really? - Yeah.

- I don't have my glasses. - Take mine.

You know I can't see anything with them.

What does she say?

Nothing much.

- She has a boyfriend. - Really?

Florence with a boyfriend!

She's coming home for Easter vacation.

- That's soon. - Yes.

She'd like you to be home when she comes back.

So would I.

Alright.

I'll pack my bags and go home with you.

Rico will take care of it.

I'll go grab my coat.

Rico!

Gather her belongings.

Georges will pick them up.

And tidy up.

AN INTIMATE MATTER

I remember shivering as I left the station.

Perhaps the cool evening air had surprised me.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Cheers!

Cheers!

We're going to have a great season!

A FEW MONTHS LATER, IN THE FALL OF 1981, DANIEL SALMON

GOT A POSTHUMOUS LITERARY GRAND PRIX FOR HIS BOOK.

Subtitle translation by: Michael Francart