- Hey, Ron, it's Patrick from Montreal.
Patrick, you're on the air. What can I do for you, buddy?
I heard this rumour
that the Toronto team might be sold to Houston!
That... that rumour, not!
Listen, I know it's 100% accurate information.
It comes directly out of the mouth of my brother-in-law.
Don't give me the brother-in-law, don't give me the cousin!
The taxi driver, the bartender,
Uncle Mike, my brother-in-law.
Your brother, your cousin...
Who cares about the bullshit?
The reaI rumour is, a bloody team from Canada
will be sold to the U.S.
But it's not Vancouver, Calgary, Deadmonton, Taranna, Montreal.
- Yeah, well, you know, Ron,
since the lockout things have been going-
Lockout? What lockout?
What's the problem with the lockout?
You know, Mr. Buttman,
with all that cheap American crap like cheerleaders and mascots and-
Yeah, you're right about that.
Don't hate the cheerleaders, but I can't stand the mascots.
Can't stand the mascots, with the tail and the frou-frou.
Can't stand the mascots! You want to know what else?
- What? - In the end, who cares?
Because of the lockout,
we've got ourselves a final between Montreal and Toronto.
Yahoo! So don't believe the rumours
a Canadian team is moving south.
But it's the end!
The beginning of the end. Finito, kaput, the end.
Thanks a lot. Next caller.
- What's going on here?
What is this? Why am I tied up?
What am I doing here?
What did I do?
That's the problem, Ben.
You didn't do anything.
You know I tried to help.
You know that, right?
Right?
You know...
I didn't want to drop you...
Let me go, we'll work things out.
Untie me!
Let's help each other, eh?
You were like a brother to me!
- Shhh-shhh-shhh... - Ah!
What are you doing?
Where are you?
Shhh-shhh-shhh...
The game's on.
Ah...!
- ... a new highpoint in Canadian hockey history.
The Holt Cup final between the Toronto Loyalists and the Montreal Patriotes.
The referee is ready to drop the puck. And the game is on!
Toronto's never looked sharper,
the European refs have never looked duller! Which leaves Montreal.
Remember when Montreal had Frenchies that could score?
Well, those days are long gone.
Well, thanks, Tom, for your usual amazing insights
into our national psyche.
Frenchies that can score, eh? Europeans?
What a country this is on a fine day in May!
Hey, bud! Morning!
Ahem.
No food.
- Where you going? - Back to my room.
You're not hungry? I got some great new cereaI.
I'm not in the mood for shredded cardboard right now, thanks.
So, Jonathan, how was last night?
The DJ thing.
It was good.
- Yeah? You had fun? - Uh-huh.
- Morning, boys! - I've got this thing at work.
It may be overnight, so Auntie Iris is here, okay?
- Hey, hey! - Hey!
But I'm hoping that won't last too much longer.
I'm hoping to be a DJ man myself, you know?
What's that?
DJ man!
Oh, God...
Desk job, get it?
Desk job? Heh!
Yeah...
Jay, come on, where you going?
Tell me something good, please, after that.
- Okay, last night I was spinning. - Yeah?
Everyone was going crazy!
People were on the tables! - Hell, yeah, they were.
- So the next guy went up after me, but no one really liked him,
so they called me back, 'cause they wanted me.
Nice. The girls must've been all over you.
- Uh, yeah.
There was a redheaded girI...
A redheaded girI?
Yeah...
Just asking.
- You know what?
Jay, let's go grab some breakfast.
Outta here, you know? Me and you,
shoot the shit. - Okay.
- Give me the juicy details... Get your stuff.
- See ya!
How do you do that?
I can't get a full sentence out of him.
- Come on, brother.
He's 15.
You're his dad. - I suppose so.
- It's 22 degrees in Montreal...
Hey, did you see last night's game?
Toronto isn't giving up, so, hey, Patriotes,
show us your stuff and bring home the Cup.
- Oh... You're here. Wow.
Aren't you sweet.
- Good morning...
to all of you.
- Jerk.
- Daddy!
- Hi, sweetie.
- Did a bad guy do that to you?
- Daddy met someone even more hard-headed than Mommy.
- You're funny.
Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?
- Oh, French toast!
Thank you, Daddy! - My pleasure.
- Daddy, I have something to ask you.
- Ah, okay.
What's up?
Can I get my bellybutton pierced?
- Excuse me?
I want to pierce my bellybutton.
- What did Mommy say?
- She didn't even try with me.
- Let me think about it and we'll talk later.
- You're not cooI.
- Would you please go upstairs to my place and get some milk?
- I told my friends you were the coolest father.
- Of course!
- Your cooI thing is not going to work.
Go get the milk, please. Thank you.
- You can get your face sown up once a week
but I can't get my bellybutton pierced! - I didn't say no,
I said your mother and I will talk about it
and then she'll tell me what we've decided.
- You're not funny.
- Now go get the milk
or I personally will pierce your naveI.
Go on. - Okay, okay.
- Bellybutton piercing...
What's wrong?
- Nothing. It's just that if you could be like that
for more than 10 minutes at a time, we might still be married.
- Come on...
Could be worse.
Some couples don't even get 10 minutes.
- Yes, but in between those 10 minutes
there's always the job,
women, the job,
your pals, hockey,
the job...
the phone.
- Bouchard.
Yeah?
No, come on, it's my day off.
- See what I mean?
- All right, all right. I'm on my way.
I have to go.
But let's talk about this again reaI soon.
- Say, when Gabrielle goes to university?
- Is it that urgent?
- Don't forget your daughter's ballet recitaI.
- Honestly!
Do you actually think I'd forget something like that?
Suzie?
- Huh?
- When is it?
- At 4:00.
How do you expect me to find another man?
It's hard enough having one child, let alone two.
- Don't say that. You'll find somebody.
Come on, you've still got great tits.
- Run along now, go play cops and robbers,
your little pals are waiting.
- Jesus Christ, who's the idiot that had the road blocked?!
It took me two hours to get to my own crime scene!
For you, today I am DETECTIVE Dave!
- Martin Ward.
- David Bouchard.
- Enchanté.
- Enchantay!
Hey, we got somebody that can spick de French.
I guess he's the victim?
- We can't classify him as a victim yet,
but we can say he's had a bit of a rough night.
Not much blood, though.
- Well, it's been fun. Good luck, guys.
- Hey, where you going?
- Back home.
This is obviously your case.
- What do you mean, our case? It's very clearly your case!
- How do you figure that?
His feet are on your side.
- Exactly. His head is on your side. What's your point?
- My point?
If you play football or tennis or whatever,
you step over the line, you're out.
Okay, boys. We're out of here.
- May I remind you that in the 100-yard-dash,
it's the head and chest that break the tape.
In horse racing, it's by a nose.
As you can see, the subject was a true Quebecer.
- Do I need a passport?
- His heart is in Quebec.
And he's got Ontario up his ass.
- Excuse me?
- I just said his ass belongs to you.
- Okay.
We'll take it from here.
Get me a ladder.
- A ladder!
- Whoa!
Don't move him.
- How can I? He's indented in the sign.
- Never mind. Let's just get this over with.
- What's this? - Be carefuI not to move anything.
Ah! - Ah!
- CarefuI!
- Ah, shit.
- Ah!
Idiot!
Ahhhh!
Argh...
Good morning.
- Hey, nice turtleneck. It's really you.
What the fuck is squarehead doing here?
- David, you know Martin, of course,
and this is his boss, Brian MacDuff from the OPP.
- Pleasure to meet you.
- Yeah, I'm sure. You wanna tell me why the hell I'm here this early?
- You wanna talk, Brian?
- No, no. It's yourjurisdiction.
- No, no, no, I insist.
- Okay.
We know that the victim is from MontreaI.
- We know...
the victim...
is from MontreaI.
- We don't know for sure yet if it's a murder and if it is,
where the murder victim comes from.
- But we don't know for sure yet
if it's a murder,
or, if it is,
where the murderer comes from.
- So Captain LeBoeuf and I thought this would be a great opportunity...
- So we thought, Captain Leboeuf and I,
this would be a great...
opportunity...
- It's okay, Chief. I understand English.
- Oh, shit... Okay.
It's okay.
David... can English.
He can English.
He can...
- Oh! - Yes!
- Okay, well, go ahead, then.
- Okay, I go, I go.
So we thought it was a good hoppor...
- Opportunity.
- It was a good...
- Opportunity. - Hopportunity to be...
- You may speak French, Captain.
- Ah, for fuck's sake...
- You speak French?
- No, not really.
I had a small gadget installed in my brain
and I see subtitles under people when they speak.
Yes, I speak French.
I was in enriched French at Upper Canada College.
- Upper what?
- I also lived in Paris for a year.
- Ah, that's why you're such a snobby pain in the ass.
- Hey...
- Right.
Thing is, we want to show the RCMP
that they can't have the whole pie.
- No, no. Okay...
- And that if we can cooperate, it would be very good
for our image
and next year's budgets.
- Yes!
So untiI further notice, you're...
...partner.
- You've got to be kidding. - This is a joke.
- Listen to me, you!
Based on what Sylvain told me yesterday,
I'd worry more about getting suspended than who's my new partner.
So if I were you I'd just shut my hole
and solve this case as fast as possible.
- I just went through a rough one.
I can't work with this clown! - Just do it, Martin.
You want that desk job, don't you?
- Grossbut.
- Beno¡t Brisset is dead. - Excuse me?
- His body was found at the Ontario border.
- When?
- We don't have much information yet.
- That's not possible.
Everyone liked Brisset.
- Did he have any problems with his clients?
- No, I don't think so, but I'm not familiar with all his cases.
If he had a problem with a client, I'm sure he'd have told me.
- No doubt, you've known each other a long time.
- Long enough. We started working together on the Fleur de Lys.
- That's true.
- And we've been together ever since.
Has the family been notified?
- I have no idea...
- If I can do anything...
- I'll get back to you if I hear anything.
- Thank you.
- Hi, MicheI.
I've been waiting for you. - Ah!
- That had to hurt.
- Benoît Brisset, 46.
Recently made partner
at Grossbut, Canuelsberg, Tiernyskovitch & Brisset.
Divorced, no kids.
Three condos.
One's in Boca, one in Nice. Works 75 hours a week,
which I gather for MontreaI is a lot.
No known mob links.
Member of Le Mirage Golf Club.
Drives a Cherokee. Anything else you want to know?
- Is he circumcised?
- Yes.
- Jeff, meet my counterpart from the OPP, Martin Ward.
- Nice to meet you.
- Salut.
- I know at first glance he looks like a gay accountant.
But believe it or not, he's not an accountant.
- Gotcha.
- Are you able to determine- - The height he fell from?
Depends on the speed of the helicopter.
- Who said anything about a helicopter?
- Me, I could've sworn I just said helicopter.
You see, an airplane goes too fast.
He'd be cut in two, without your help.
A failed parachute would still be attached.
Hanglider straps are too complicated.
You really have to want to kill yourself.
The air-balloon festivaI hasn't started yet.
If it was a stork, he would've been caught
in a 46-year traffic jam. So, helicopter.
But to reply to your question, 80 metres max.
Or 236 feet, 4 and 7/8s inches for you.
An inert body in free fall goes at 30 metres a second.
Looking at this mess, I'd say a minimum of 25 and a max of 80.
My feeling is that it's not 60. At 30 meters a second,
the fall would take exactly 2 seconds.
And that's too round a figure. I just don't feeI it.
Nothing in life should be so precise.
Maximum 80 metres.
- What about this?
- What's tattoo in English?
- Tattoo. - Tattoo? A tattoo? That's random.
2 T's and 2 O's,
yet it's the long A that you pronounce.
- Why is there blood?
- How would you feeI after a 200 feet fall?
And a tattoo can take up to 10 days to heaI.
- I'd say this tattoo was fresher than that.
A few hours at the most, it had hardly started to heaI.
"Pantutti" for you.
- Then why- - Why didn't this part bleed?
He started it 2 months ago and he just finished it yesterday?
Bad answer. Ontario's turn to reply. Too long!
It's the opposite.
The part that bled was done while he was still alive.
The other part was done after he was killed,
you can tell by the pigmentation.
He was dead before the fall, because there's also this.
The coagulation of this wound
corresponds to that of the tattoo.
The wounds from the fall are more recent,
the patterns are different.
- So he was dead before he fell.
But why a tattoo?
A signature?
- Makes sense.
A tattoo doesn't fit his character. You don't wear $5,000 Armani suits,
get made a law partner, go get a tattoo.
- Why not?
- Not very classy.
- Angelina Jolie has tattoos.
- My point exactly. The reaI question is why a fleur de Iys with a scale?
- Mm-hmm.
- I could give you a thousand reasons.
- One would do. - Hmm.
- Maybe we should go ask his partners. Thanks, Jeff.
- If I come up with anything, I'll call you.
- Sorry, but I didn't get half of what he said.
- Me neither! As long as we each got a different half, we'll be okay.
- Uh-huh. Okay. Great.
Thanks, Stefane! We're on our way!
Change of plan.
We can pay Grossbut a visit later. As we thought,
there were no registered helicopter flights in that area.
But a farmer saw a chopper flying low over his field
and he identified it as being from Hélicoptère Libellule,
a small company at the St. Hubert airport.
- Okay.
So do we go see the farmer or go directly to the airport?
- I think we go directly to St. Hubert.
Jesus!
What are you doing?!
You can't do that! This isn't an officiaI police car!
There's no siren to warn people!
- Roll down your window and make the siren noise yourself.
Come on!
- Oh! Look, we're gonna have to have some ground rules here.
- No problem.
Rule 1: in Quebec, I'm in charge.
I take care of fights and car chases.
- I see. That leaves jaywalking and traffic violations for me?
- As long as no ladders are needed.
- And no smoking.
- That's your right.
- Then why are you lighting up?
- I have rights too.
I'm in the smoking section.
- This car is really you, you know?
- Thanks.
- Rule 12:
You let me interrogate the witnesses. I do the talking.
- Whatever, but in French. - Depends on the maternaI language
of the person we're talking to, doesn't it?
- In Quebec, we work in French.
- Fine!
That leaves the rest of Canada under my jurisdiction,
with the possible exception of some of New Brunswick.
- Whoa! What did I just say? In FRENCH!
- Sorry about this.
I have everything right here...
- Take your time, ma'am.
How many helicopters do you have?
- Three, but one is being fixed.
Here's the page.
No, none of our helicopters flew near the Ontario border yesterday.
The owner has been with a group of Americans
up in Tremblant the past week
and Luc did a short return trip
to MontreaI around 2:00.
But wait, that's strange.
- What's strange? - Hey!
- Sorry, interrogation.
- What's strange?
- I don't want to get anybody in trouble,
but Luc seems to have taken a chopper out
at the end of the day yesterday. Maybe it was to fix something.
In that case, it would be normaI for it not to be logged.
- Do you have a number where we can reach Mr...?
- Therrien,
Luc Therrien.
At this time of day,
he's usually at the bar on the corner.
- Thank you.
- The pleasure is all mine, Officer.
Excuse me, but is there a number where I can reach you
in case anything new pops into my head?
- I don't have any cards with me.
Ah.
- It's 9...
- Okay.
- 1... 1...
That's it.
They'll know how to find me.
Ask for Martin Ward.
- Ward...
- I'm going to park in the back.
- There we go. Luc Therrien.
Thirty-nine years old, divorced.
Nine years for smuggling cocaine.
After that, nothing.
Helicopter pilot for 10 years.
With this company for the past 3 years.
- Luc Therrien...
I've heard that name before.
Maybe I arrested him.
- Wait, wait. I'm the one who asks the questions.
- You're right and I'm gonna let you go in there all by yourself.
I'll join you in a little while.
- Good. You'll be able to study my methods
and maybe learn a thing or two.
- Yeah, right.
- Let me go and size the place up, then join me.
- What are you doing?
Hey, no badge.
Especially not one from Ontario.
What the hell?
- Anything else?
Hello, handsome.
What can I get for you?
- A ginger ale, straight up, s'il vous pla¡t.
- Ginger ale!
A little ice?
- No, thank you.
I'm looking for a helicopter pilot.
- We're not short on those around here.
It's on me.
- Why, thank you.
Therrien.
Does that name mean anything to you?
- Therrien... - Luc Therrien.
- Oh, Luc!
This is your lucky day, that's him there.
- Merci.
- Tabarnac! Shit, man, you're lucky.
Rita, two beers!
- Nice jacket.
- Thanks... Reverend.
Nice turtleneck.
It was a joke.
Rita, give the man another drink.
- Ginger ale?
- Ooh, ginger ale.
You worried about driving home?
- Do you know that the Canadian Heart Disease Association
says that two alcoholic drinks per day
can be beneficiaI for our health,
but that three or more bring us ever closer to the grave?
- Therrien, you've been dead for seven years.
- I drink to stay calm when people start to get on my nerves.
- Ever tried yoga?
- I know practically every position.
- We all know your favourite positions, Rita.
- Show the lady a little respect.
- Winner buys the beer?
- What planet are you from?
- Toronto.
- Oh, yeah?
That's why I hate your face. What the fuck you doing here?
- A poll.
I'd like to ask you a few questions about Benoît Brisset.
We know there's a link-
- Argh!
Let me ask again, do you know Benoît Brisset?
It's fine.
Argh!
Oh!
- Ah!
- Bouchard!
Do something!
Bouchard, help me!
- Does anybody here understand English?
I think the guy with the purple face
is trying to tell me something.
- David!
Help me... please!
- With pleasure. - Mind your own business.
- Okay, you can let him go. I'll take care of him.
- I'm not sure that's a good idea.
- Martin, we talked about this. I'm in charge of fights.
Take it easy, it'll be okay.
- Argh!
- Thanks. Has Mr. Therrien seemed at all nervous lately?
- No more than usuaI.
- Argh!
- Martin, help me!
- May I have a little lemon, please?
- Anything for you, handsome.
- Martin, stop screwing around.
- Here's my card if you think of anything.
I'm sorry, I don't understand you.
- Fuck you!
- Right language, wrong words.
- Martin, help me, please!
- Excuse me.
Let go of my partner.
What are you doing?
I don't know if you don't respect procedures
because you're ignorant, you're a lunatic,
orjust because you're French.
You can't do this!
- And what is appropriate procedure in such a case?
- Hey...
it's yourjurisdiction.
- Thanks.
- You motherfuckin' pieces of shit!
- Hey, watch your language.
- What did he say?
- He called us rotten.
- I got that, but "hostie de calice"?
- It's swearing.
"Hosties de pourris" is like fuckin' pieces of shit,
but "hosties de calice de pourris"
is like motherfuckin' pieces of shit.
But I've been called worse.
"Hostie de calice de tabarnac. "
- Over-the-top pourri? - Oui.
- Laugh it up, assholes. When I get out of here...
- Shush! Shush! Wait, I'm not finished.
You can conjugate it, too.
- Like a verb? - Mm-hmm!
- I'll fuckin' give you one! - Good one, Luc. For example,
I'll fuckin' give you one.
Or you could use the masculine and say,
here's a hell of a whack.
- Got it.
- You utter fuck.
- Absolutely.
As in I'll give you a fuckin'...
We can also use it as a noun.
We have expressions too! Like, I don't give a shit.
- Okay, enough.
You don't want him to file a complaint.
- I don't give a shit.
Come on.
- Argh!
- What's going on?
Lulu, your boot is in the way.
- Sorry.
- I just hope you don't talk like that around children.
- Holy fucking shit! Gabrielle!
- I have my answer.
This is a handicapped space!
You can't park here.
- Yes, I can, I'm with you.
- Give me your car keys. - No.
- This is ridiculous.
We can't leave a suspect in the trunk of your car
because you're late for your daughter's ballet recitaI.
- Why not?
- Let me out of here, you assholes.
- Bravo, girls.
Let's have a nice round of applause for our well-deserving girls.
- You obviously have no kids. - I have a 15-year-old I raise alone!
- Then don't tell me the asshole in my trunk
is more important than our children!
- That's not the point, Bouchard! Rules were made for a reason!
- I don't want to hear another word about it. That's an order!
- An order? - Yes.
- Hey!
- Excuse me, sorry.
- Will you sit down!
- I didn't miss Gabrielle?
- No, you haven't.
- This is Martin. He's from Toronto.
He is working for me on a case.
- My sympathies. - Delighted to meet you.
- Ahem.
- This is Suzie, my ex-wife.
- My sympathies. - What do you mean?
- Ahem!
Thank you.
Now that we have your attention,
we can present our most advanced group,
And they're nervous, so please encourage them all you can.
- It's them!
Gabrielle, let's go!
Go, girls, you can do it.
You too, Matthew.
- Music!
- Relax, Suzie. It's going to be fine!
Good start.
- Yes! - Shhh...
- Hey, that's not easy.
Does he have to put his hands there? - Just relax.
- That's my daughter, the one up front.
Yessss. BeautifuI.
Here comes the finale.
Yes!
Whoo!
Yeah! All right!
Way to go, pumpkin! - Bravo!
- Matthew, you rock!
That's my girI, centre stage.
Today, you were fantastic.
Your "pas de basques" were... wow!
You stole the show.
- We really have to go.
- Daddy, do you have to go?
- I'll be home for supper,
I promise, we'll celebrate your triumph.
Gimme a kiss.
- Will your friend be coming too?
- What friend?
- Your employee. Would you like to come for dinner?
- With great pleasure!
- Fantastic. See you later. - Yes.
- "Fantastic"?
All of a sudden you're bilinguaI? - Hey.
- I'll see you later, okay?
Don't feeI obliged to come, I'm sure you're tired.
- On the contrary, I'd really like to come.
- I think you should get some rest.
- I've always heard you Quebecois were hospitable, but...
Hey...
Rita, the barmaid, left me a message.
- So why don't you go eat with her?
You know what they say about girls from Quebec?
My car?
That's my car!
- I told you... - Hey!
- Police! Freeze!
- Hey! My car!
- Police!
Freeeeeze!
See? Even in English, works like a charm.
- Yeah, right!
- We could've been in very big trouble. - You're so negative!
- The suspect!
- My car!
- How are we gonna explain this?
- For the time being, we explain nothing.
- What? Are you crazy?
A suspect has died in your car! We have to report this!
- You're the nut case.
What do you think your bosses will say
when they hear that this happened as a result of your negligence?
- My negligence?
I told you, I could've brought him myself to headquarters,
but you couldn't stand the thought of not being able to sit there,
showing off in front of your pals!
- If your procedures were so fucking important,
why didn't you stay with the car
instead of coming in and sucking up to get a free meaI
and flirting with my ex-wife in front of our child?
- That's it. You're crazy. I'm outta here.
I'm gonna write my report
detailing exactly what happened and I don't care what you do,
but you're not dragging me down in this shit with you!
- It's too late, because you're already in shit.
So if you want to save ourjobs so we can feed our kids,
we have to shut up and find the sicko who did this.
That's the only way out.
- Shit de merde de shit de fuck de tabarnac!
- 24 hours.
If we have nothing in the next 24 hours,
I'll explain what happened.
Not one hour more.
- Anyway...
the case is moving forward.
- At least now we know it wasn't him.
What? It's true.
Hey, you okay?
- That was delicious.
I really liked the way you did the salmon,
French bistro style.
I do it American style.
- You cook? - Yes, I love to cook.
- Apart from his famous french toast,
David was never very usefuI in the kitchen.
- No, but you found me more usefuI in another room.
- Still, it's rare to see exes living together
in the same house like a normaI family.
- NormaI?
- Are you divorced too?
- Gabrielle!
- No offence taken. Yes, Gabrielle, I am.
- What happened?
What? I'm interested.
- My wife was working
as the Governor GeneraI's press secretary
and while she was in London on a RoyaI visit,
she called me one day at work and told me
she had met some sort of prince and she wasn't coming home.
I never saw her again.
- You're kidding, right? - No.
- That must have been a shock.
- Jonathan was 8.
He spends Christmas and two weeks in the summer with her.
- What's a semi-prince?
- A rich guy with legs like a frog.
- Okay, bedtime.
- But, Daddy, it's only 7:30!
- Not you, honey. I was talking to Martin.
Seriously, we have a big day tomorrow.
- You're right. We have to go to Therrien's place. I should go.
- Why don't you stay upstairs at David's place tonight?
That way you can leave together early in the morning?
- Suzie, my place is really a mess.
- I know, Martin can sleep in my room
and I'll sleep upstairs at your place.
- It's settled!
- We'll talk about your piercing later.
- Barmaid's not answering her cell.
- Where the fuck is the search warrant?
- Did you take Ritalin as a child?
- Huh?
- Try thinking about other things.
Your daughter is adorable.
- That's true, we're really lucky.
She's a great kid.
- You were right.
Quebec women are... speciaI.
- Are you talking about Suzie?
- She is really superb.
She's really down-to-Earth.
- What are you trying to say?
- What?
- This isn't working.
- Bouchard, we're waiting for a warrant.
- I don't give a shit.
- Bouchard! Come on!
- I don't give a shit.
- Great, now we can't use any of the evidence.
Idiot!
- Shit...
Martin!
Come look at this.
- Not without a warrant!
- Ah, come on, I already broke in anyway.
I thought I saw someone in distress.
- Goddammit!
Ha!
- Would you try not touching any more of the evidence?
- It was worth it just for the look on your face.
What a sick fuck!
Now I get why Luc Therrien's name rang a bell.
I remember. He was drafted by the Fleur de Lys.
Played half a season for Quebec before getting busted for dope.
- That explains the tattoo. - Mm-hmm.
So this is all about hockey, or drugs?
- Maybe both.
- That's Grossbut. - Hmm...
- You know him?
The jerk who sold Quebec to Colorado.
- The next year, they won the Cup, right?
- Blah, blah, blah...
All right... you finish your little arts-and-crafts project.
I'm gonna check the basement out.
- David!
Grossbut is here!
- Martin!
Come see this.
Jackpot!
- This is Detective Martin Ward.
We have a dead body here.
- Hmm...
- Shit!
David?!
What have you done now?
- This is good!
This is really good!
What the fuck's he doing?
Taking pictures of the fire?
Ah!
Why does this shit always happen to me?
Ow! Shit!
If I get out here alive,
I swear I'm gonna ask for a desk job.
- David!
David!
Ah!
- What the hell's that smell?
- Martin!
- Here, get Grossbut out.
- Never mind him. - No, no, get him out of here.
- Let's go.
- You all right? - Yeah.
- Gimme some of that. - It's my inhaler.
- What the hell? I feeI kind of weird.
- Me too.
- That's not good, right?
- Jesus Christ, David!
You went in without a warrant.
You put a suspect in your trunk.
All that's left of him fits in a sandwich bag.
Do you think that's normaI?!
- Don't go crazy.
He had a record as long as your arm,
he's not exactly Brother André. - Brother André!
- We have to pick him up with a spatula!
Then you burn down a house with a victim inside!
- Don't forget my car.
- Don't interrupt me when I'm talking!
- In fact, Chief,
it was all my fault.
I thought I spotted someone inside in distress.
There was someone in there,
but not who I thought.
He was in distress...
but not today.
It's close enough. Huh?
- Captain MacDuff, line 3.
- Captain MacDuff.
You got my message about what you crazy cop do?
- Yes.
- He burned down the building!
He blew up...
the witness!
- Martin, is this true?
- Well, uh...
with regard to the situation, sir,
I think one could characterize the case as, uh...
What was the question?
- Witness! Witness!
- Oh, no, I have a halibi.
I was at David's daughter's ballet recitaI.
- What?
- Martin, you come home right now!
We'll talk about this later.
It's not our business! Now get back home!
- Good, I'll be better off not having to drag a tourist around.
- Listen, sir, let me fix this.
Because I'm spending half my time babysitting Rambo on steroids.
I can fix this.
- SHUT UP!
And you...
you crazy son of a mad cow,
from now on, you're off the suitcase!
Off the suitcase!
You go to Ontario.
That's it, that's all!
Don't call us, we'll call you! Huh?!
It's over. Over.
OVER!
And you. You.
AII I want from you is to take this squarehead to the airport.
That's your fucking job for today.
- Roger, come on...
- Out!
Out!
- This way.
- Get out of here!
Get out! Get out!