You realize your client just signed his confession.
Well?
I hate being wrong.
- What about? - About him.
I don't care that he lied
but he should trust me, not run.
He didn't do anything. He was scared.
An innocent man doesn't run.
I pay you a fortune to hear shit like that?
C'mon!
Follow me.
Sit on that or the car'll stink!
Who fired those shots?
Some pals.
Beltway's out. You fucked it up good.
What? Who?
Hold on, where are you at?
Get outta there!
Be right there.
One little errand, then we'll get you some clothes.
The owner?
Send me it in writing, then.
Who was that?
Ballistics.
About?
The shotgun.
And?
Stop fucking around, they're off! The gun?
It was his dad's. Francois Beck.
Let me do that.
It's simple. When his dad died, he inherited the gun.
But he smacks his wife around,
so she hides it with the photos.
Who pays for the box for 8 years?
Why's the key on a dead man?
It's full of holes. We all know it and we all shut up.
Who cares about the wife? He'll get 20 years for the photographer.
What are you saying?
You know what I'm saying.
If we prove Serton didn't kill her,
he'll get a retrial. That'd piss a lot of people off.
What do I care if it pisses people off?
All I want is the truth.
I called his lawyer to tip her off.
Are you stupid?
For his wife's murder, a zillion leads and no proof. Why?
- Because he's good. - Exactly.
So tell me why he's dumb enough, 8 years later,
to keep the murder weapon in his home!
He could plan his wife's murder
but now he's under pressure.
Sure!
So much so he took time out to request access to his wife's autopsy
before heading to his office to wait for us.
May I speak to Dr. Herbin at the medico-legal institute?
Yes, I'll hold.
Bye, mom. See you on Sunday. The groceries are done.
Thanks, son. See you Sunday.
Goodbye, Simone.
Ferrault Attorney-at-Law
Sorry, I'm late. I have an appointment with Mr. Ferrault.
Are you sure?
Gentlemen!
Sorry to press you, but this is very important.
Was my wife your client?
No, she wasn't my client.
But you met her?
Yes.
A few years ago, I was assigned to defend Helio Gonzales.
Know who I mean?
A street kid raised by the Children's Trust
your wife worked for with Philippe Neuville.
- The showjumper and senator's son. - And?
When Neuville's son was found in a dumpster
with 2 bullets in him, Gonzales was the prime suspect.
He was well known to the police
and he was seen with Neuville the night he died.
- And my wife? - She was his alibi.
Meaning?
At first, she said that, at the time of the murder,
he was in her office for career counseling.
Of course, nobody bought it.
Why?
Career counseling at 11 pm?
Given the penalties for perjury, I suggested she come clean.
What did she say?
Obvious, isn't it?
She was with Gonzales. They'd been lovers for 2 months.
It ain't such a big deal. You never cheated on her?
No.
The guy in the shirt.
What we doing with this guy?
Who asked you?
He staying long?
I owe this guy from 3 years ago.
I took my kid to the hospital, all bruised up.
Fuckers thought I'd beat up on him.
This guy tells the cops it wasn't me, my kid's a hemophiliac.
As long as he needs us, we're there, okay?
Take it easy, he just wants information.
Fuck!
Cool it!
Stay right there!
It's cool, guys.
Back off!
- It's cool... - Take it easy.
What you wanna know?
Sure, I fucked your wife! I fucked her for months!
What's up?
Shut the fuck up!
No kidding, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, man.
She loved when I spat in her mouth.
Your wife was a slut. Don't blame me.
Let go of me.
You never fucked my wife! She was in Lyon.
I can prove it and wreck your alibi.
I don't care if you killed Neuville.
But I'm accused of murder and I wanna know why.
So tell me what you know or go get your ass fucked off in jail.
You think jail scares me? I don't give a shit.
I didn't kill Neuville. I was doing business,
with no alibi, and she saved my ass.
You see her again?
She's dead, man!
Why'd she do it?
How do I know? She gave me a story. I said it.
Now, get out of my face, faggot!
You're crazy, man! Why we here if it was a lie?
I wasn't sure. I was bluffing.
You were bluffing?
You're a total headcase!
Good one. "I was bluffing..." Motherfucker!
I thought if the cops got her husband, she'd show up to help him.
I've no idea how he got away.
I didn't know she'd set up a meeting.
No, I don't know where he is.
Okay, I'll call you back.
Excuse me, do you have the time, please?
- Just after 5. - Thanks.
I don't know if it's her but the kid's real.
She look like the photo?
I don't know. The eyes maybe...
She's leaving. What do I do? Grab her?
She's headed for the gate. Zach, she's yours!
I'll stay with him.
It's not her. Back off!
You hear me?
Get back in position.
He's leaving. What do I do?
I repeat. He's leaving. What do I do?
He's coming this way.
Bernard?
Grab him!
Keep calm!
What do you want?
Where's your wife?
I don't know.
Where is she?
I don't know!
Where's your wife?
Where's Margot?
Move it, asshole!
Freeze!
Stand up!
Untie him!
Untie him, shithead!
You okay?
Who you working for?
Don't move!
Holy fucking shit!
Floor it!
Eric?
Beck is booked on a flight for Buenos Aires at 10:30 pm.
Wait for me.
Philippe had just turned 5.
We were waiting for the school bus.
I was holding his hand.
The bus arrived.
The doors opened and he suddenly let go of my hand...
and jumped on the bus.
I had this incredible urge to pull him back...
and take him home.
That's when I understood what I had felt
the day he was born.
A blend of joy and apprehension and also...
terror.
I sensed that despite my efforts something could happen to him...
at any time.
I'm scared of disease.
I'm scared of aging and I'm scared of death.
But it's nothing compared to what I felt that day,
the knot in my stomach as I watched the bus drive away.
While my son rots underground...
she may be still alive?
I can't accept that, Bernard.
Do you understand that?
Do you?
I understand, sir.
Passengers for the flight to Buenos Aires
are invited to proceed...
Charlotte Bertaud was shot in the head at point blank range.
A suspect, Dr. Alexandre Beck, escaped arrest this morning.
He is also suspected of...
Caroline Parreire!
There!
She booked her ticket 6 minutes after Mr. Beck.
She had the seat next to his.
Row 32, seats E and F.
She checked in?
Yes, she must be boarding.
Gate F50.
Enjoy your trip.
Out of the way! Police!
Everybody, stay where you are!
Stop boarding immediately!
Let me see some ID or your passport.
Not fair! My stick's not working.
- Always got an excuse. - Smart ass!
Check it out!
I don't believe it!
- He did you good! - It's the stick.
I always get the dud.
He always blames some shit.
Hey, no shoes!
Give us a break with your scuzzy carpet!
Well?
I don't get it. Nothing.
Mouss, c'mon!
I'm sorry.
Really.
Forget it.
I'll send a guy for my son when he's better.
Okay, guys!
See ya!
Hold the line.
This is Alexandre Beck.
I can prove I didn't kill Charlotte.
You can?
Hold on while I step outside.
Go ahead.
Good evening.
Captain Levkowich. We met at the hospital.
Can I have a word?
Sorry, my wife's expecting me home.
I don't believe Beck killed anyone.
Right now, I'm the only one.
- You're the smarty-pants, right? - That's right.
But I'll need your help. You must know where he's hiding.
Correction. You're the dummy!
If you don't help me, we'll find him anyway.
When we do, it could get nasty.
He was booked on a flight to Buenos Aires.
Of course, he didn't show
but he was traveling with one Caroline Parreire. Know her?
Hold that.
Well?
What?
Caroline Parreire?
Never heard of her.
- Did Margot Beck do drugs? - No way. You're nuts!
The autopsy report suggests otherwise.
- It's confidential. - You're shitting me?
Show me a photo. Just one photo.
Funny, I had the same reaction.
There aren't any. They vanished.
A problem?
- Did he call? - No.
Hélène?
What?
What's wrong?
The photos...
I took them.
It was Philippe Neuville who beat her up.
Why?
I don't know. She wouldn't tell me.
And you did nothing?
- What could I do? - Take her to the cops.
She refused to go. She said she just needed evidence.
She wouldn't even let me tell you.
And you never said anything?
What d'you expect me to do?
Tell my brother while he's mourning his dead wife,
that just before she died, she got beaten to crap?
Would that have helped him?
She asked me to keep it secret.
No kidding.
What?
You rode Neuville's horses. If you'd accused his son of battery,
you'd have been fired.
It was a smart choice asking you.
She knew you'd keep your mouth shut.
Yes, Elisabeth?
I'll email you one right away.
Thanks a lot.
A briard. Cute, huh?
You're helping a fugitive...
Shut up or the dog will piss on your career.
You established Charlotte's time of death
as 10:45 pm, right?
Give or take 30'.
This dog proves Beck is innocent.
He was on a computer at Medianet
between 10:36 and 11:13, according to their records.
He was told to leave the dog outside.
2 witnesses have positively identified him.
Assuming the alibi checks out...
Don't worry, it will.
Assuming it does...
There's just one hitch.
The murder weapon we found at his place.
Trouble is, the tables have turned. That's now your problem.
Tell the press your men planted evidence without your knowledge.
At worst, you're a coward. At best, a DA with no authority.
Are you crazy?
Who'd believe they'd do that?
Nobody!
So tell the press Dr. Beck is wanted as a witness,
the last man to see the victim alive,
and is suspected of nothing.
Agreed?
He'll answer questions?
Don't pretend you can negotiate.
I promised to keep it a secret.
I never meant to hurt you.
Say you forgive me.
Thanks for telling me.
Did you know?
- About Neuville? - Of course not!
I saw her. I swear to you I saw her.
I believe you.
Come here...
Don't worry, just a courtesy visit.
We'd like to apologize.
Traces of heroin... regular user...
Weight: 49 kg Height: 1.75 m
- It's not her! - Really, why?
She was never 1.75 m tall! Where are the photos?
There are none.
- They think they were stolen. - Who by?
The only person to request the file. Mr. Laurentin, Margot's father.
Did your father own a gun?
A hunting rifle you inherited?
Do you know where it is?
In my cellar, I guess.
You're not sure?
I moved house 8 years ago. It must be in a box someplace.
I don't think so.
It was in Juliette Langlois' safety-deposit box. With the photos.
I don't have to talk to you. Call my attorney.
Pierre Ferrault?
Elisabeth Feldman.
That's a relief. Ferrault called us...
I thought you'd maybe changed lawyers.
We were surprised you'd go for a washout like him.
Ferrault's the pits, you know that?
Why did you go to see him?
To retrace my wife's last days.
Why?
I agree with you that Serton didn't kill her.
- Ferrault confirmed that? - No, it was a dead end.
But he told you about Philippe Neuville?
What's he got to do with Margot?
That's what I decided to find out.
- Meaning? - I ran some tests on that rifle.
Know what we found?
It was the gun that killed Philippe Neuville.
Of course, I'm not accusing you yet.
I won't risk looking a total idiot twice.
I don't mind. I'll take the risk.
For Alexandre Beck care of Hélène Perkins.
Sign for it, please.
For Alex
I'm in the kitchen.
What the hell are you doing?
- Where's Martine? - In a safe place.
- A safe place? - Move!
What's this about Neuville?
Who was cremated 8 years ago?
Sit down.
I read the autopsy. It wasn't Margot.
Sit down, I said!
- Have you seen her? - I think so.
Where is she?
I don't know.
- She's in trouble. - You think you can help?
You couldn't 8 years ago.
Sit down!
I was out cold.
I know. I was there.
What?
For the last time, get your ass on that couch!
Have you any idea how much I miss your daughter?
Sit down.
2 months before Margot disappeared,
a kid from the Trust came to see her.
He seemed very on edge.
Margot tried to find out why.
After a half hour, the kid bursts into tears and says
that Neuville's son has been raping him for months.
Margot asked Neuville to stop by. You were in Bordeaux.
- Let go! - That's not all!
- We need to talk! - No way!
Tell me the truth, Philippe. Please!
I never hurt them.
Stop it!
She'd asked me to arrest him if she got him to confess.
I couldn't stand there and watch.
I killed him with your father's gun.
Then I dumped the body.
What's that crackling?
The signal's fine.
- He found it. - Sit down.
He's found the wire! Let's go!
Nobody moves! Is that clear?
Nobody moves until I say so.
There was this street kid, Gonzales...
He'd done jail time.
The ideal fall guy.
It would have been all so simple.
But...
she couldn't stand that idea.
Next day, she asked your sister to take the photos.
She thought she could use them if Neuville's dad ever suspected us.
And he soon did
after Margot got Gonzales off the hook.
And then...
she called Neuville to tell him she had evidence
against his son.
Knowing old Neuville,
I knew exactly what he would do.
So I tapped his phone.
He hired the goons at the lake?
Bartola and Pagnac.
He paid them
to get the evidence and get rid of her.
What saved Margot's life
is that one was an even bigger scumbag.
I offered to pay Bartola double
if he agreed to change the plan.
You pulled me out of the water?
Bartola respected his side of the deal.
Not me.
The only way to calm Neuville was if Margot disappeared.
I knew they planned to make out
she was one of Serton's victims.
I had to find a corpse.
I was thinking of digging one up
when I took a call at work.
A junkie had been knifed by the station.
I went alone.
I dumped the body maybe 100 km away.
I made sure I got there quickly for the identification.
You were in the hospital.
Why would a father lie anyway?
Everybody bought it.
She knew about the abduction?
She would have told you.
You'd have gone to the cops and we'd all be dead.
Old man Neuville has every cop and DA on his payroll.
I should know. I was top of the list.
- Where'd she go? - I bought her a ticket for Madrid.
I don't know if she stayed.
Never any news?
No.
So, why now?
The press coverage of those 2 bodies they dug up.
Your name got mentioned.
I guess she realized I'd lied.
When Margot came round, she asked where you were.
I couldn't tell her the truth.
It was the only answer
or else she'd never have gone.
She truly would be dead today.
What did you tell her?
That you were dead.
There's more.
I did it for her, Alex.
For all of us.
My only mistake was the key.
Bartola had taken it out of Margot's purse.
I forgot to check their pockets.
Neuville wouldn't let it drop.
He kept a close eye on you and me.
The burglary at your house just after her death...
I mean, disappearance. That was them.
Looking for the key.
Why didn't you say? Why didn't she file charges?
It was too late.
I'd already crossed the line.
Your dad had come to see me 6 months earlier.
My father?
One evening,
he stayed late at the stables with a sick horse.
Léa, what's wrong?
Philippe? What's wrong with little Léa?
- I can explain. - You don't have to.
I understand perfectly!
Do you know how old she is?
- Get out! - No, I won't. You're...
Get out! Go!
Get the fuck out!
You're on my property!
If I was younger, I'd kick your ass. But I'll make you pay.
You're scum! I'll make sure action's taken!
She was one
of the kids he and Margot worked with.
Lots of them helped out at the stables,
do you remember?
Next day, he came to file a complaint.
I won't calm down! That won't help.
I tried to persuade him to talk to Neuville but...
he just brushed me off.
Neuville loved your dad.
He'd been a trainer at the stables for years.
He taught his son to ride.
I thought it would stop there.
Thank you.
But Neuville knew Francois would talk eventually.
It's all in there.
Names and addresses of Neuville's men.
Details of every rotten affair
I got mixed up in with him.
Including the Angeneau assassination
in 1995.
Your father didn't die in a hunting accident.
They killed him.
Stop! Don't shoot!
What a fine partnership!
In the ring now is Rimsky
ridden by Hervé de Luze!
Mr. Neuville?
Captain Barthas of the Crime Squad.
Will you follow me, please?
Gilbert?
What's wrong? What's going on?
Tell me.
Please follow me.
What the hell are you doing?
I killed him with your father's gun.
Then I dumped the body.
I know you have a wire. I know they're listening.
Now I'll tell you the truth.
Margot! Wait!