The Inquisitor (Garde à vue)

Great.

Definitely not in the mood.

New Year's Eve, 9 PM.

- Hello. - What's it about?

- My car has been stolen. - You're the third.

- And you're certainly not the last. - I don't care.

If I said that, we'd get nowhere. Are you Mr...?

Jean-Marie Jabelain.

Good evening, notary.

Sorry I'm so late, but the traffic was completely jammed.

- Is it better now? - No.

- Where is my colleague? - Getting coffee.

I asked him to bring me one too, but I don't know if he heard...

He's like you. He only hears what he wants.

I hear everything you say and I write it all down.

I hope everything will be sorted out soon.

What is that supposed to mean?

- Did you get on the table? - No, your colleague was supposed to...

No, but... What a guy your chief inspector.

He seems to wear a wig. Is that so?

I seem bitter, but I haven't received an invitation.

- Probably lost in the mail. - Do you regret it?

It's cozy: Kissing under the mistletoe, telling jokes,

the ladies show their jewels and

introduce their lover to their husbands...

- Are you married, inspector? - I've been married three times.

I seem rather annoying. Please sit down.

I don't understand why now, but there are still unclear things.

Especially that dog story. Isn't Madame Martinaud waiting for you?

No, my wife is not waiting for me.

Good evening, Belmont.

- Do you want one too? - And Mr Martinaud's coffee?

- This one. - Then that's his coffee.

Never mind, I'm already tense enough. But thanks anyway.

We were just talking about the dog.

- Which dog? - This could get interesting.

Honestly this story... Wait, I'll read it first.

Let's see.

On the evening of the third day, you were walking

with your neighbors' dog, the Brunets.

- Is that correct? - Indeed.

- I like dogs. - Why don't you have one?

- Because my wife likes cats. - Do you have a cat?

No, that makes a mess. My wife wants a cat that doesn't make a mess.

- A cat is less dirty than a dog. - Canaries are the dirtiest.

She didn't want those either, but I stood my ground. Sometimes I manage.

Yes, yes. The canaries, the neighbors' dog.

- What was his name again? - Brunet.

- The dog. - Tango.

Oh yes. Tango, Irish setter. These dogs have a good sense of smell, right?

- They are hunting dogs. - Indeed, and pretty good too.

If you take them hunting, but Tango is more for company.

- Tango is spelled like the dance? - How else would you spell it?

Like a paso doble?

In all your statements you say: When I discovered the body...

- You never mention the dog. - What do you mean by that?

Normally the dog would have found the body.

Oh no, wait. And I had gone through the file thoroughly.

- When you were in traffic. - You're right.

According to Mr Brunet, you often walk Tango, but not that evening.

- Not on the night of the third. - Brunet is talking nonsense.

I could go along, but Madame Faure at number 12

is also talking nonsense, and Marcel Esperu at number 19 too.

So you're the only one who isn't talking nonsense?

- What should I believe? - You must believe them.

I have nothing against you, you know. I bear no grudge.

If I had to have feelings for everyone who comes through here...

But a certain stubbornness, yes.

In nine days, two girls have been raped and murdered.

I want to know by whom.

Whether it's you or someone else, I don't care.

- That's not true. - Yes it is.

If a black little girl is raped, it's a normal thing.

But if a notary like me did it

is a golden opportunity for an officer. It means attention from the newspapers

and maybe even television, right?

- Just admit it. - Are we reversing roles?

Maybe I'm driven by ambition

but why would your neighbors testify against you?

Because I'm rich and have a nice house and a beautiful wife.

Or because they think I don't deserve it.

I'm not particularly smart or handsome.

The mediocre accept the success of the exceptional.

They applaud gifted people and champions

but they can't stand the success of another average one.

- You've surely received anonymous letters. - Not more than usual.

Well, not really much more. The French like writing to the police.

They write about tax fraud, illegal extensions and so on.

And of course also about the two rapes.

Some even claim your wife pushed you into it

and others that she was just a bystander.

But in no letter does it say you're so mediocre.

Only that you're eccentric.

In any case, two eyewitnesses confirmed you were without a dog.

- No, no. - Why not?

May I?

They only say the dog had not been noticed by them.

It is underlined.

Come here for a moment.

What is this confusion?

He is right They say the dog had not been noticed by them.

- Isn't that the same thing? - No, it's not the same thing.

That can mean he wasn't there or that he was there, right?

What does that change?

If the dog had been with you, he would have found the body.

- Once again, what does that change? - Yes?

- The dog didn't call us, did he? - I didn't whisper it to him.

When your colleague picked me up, he talked about a detour via the station.

I've been here for an hour. Nobody wonders if I have anything else to do.

I did.

I'm afraid it will take longer than we thought.

If you want to call home, go ahead.

Dial zero first.

Coming, Belmont?

Here, Mercier.

What is this supposed to mean? Nice move, huh.

'Come here a moment.' Do you want to portray me as a complainer?

Do you have change?

What do you want with that dog story now? It doesn't make sense.

A notary spending New Year's Eve at the police station neither.

- Do you think he's guilty or not? - If I read the file, yes.

But when he's sitting in front of me, I doubt.

Sorry, gentlemen. You can come back. No one is answering at home.

Twenty-two oh five.

Thanks, I have my own poison.

If you're thirsty: There's a vending machine in the hallway.

Inspector Belmont has change.

Did you know Geneviève Le Bailly superficially or very well?

A man my age cannot know an eight-year-old girl well.

According to the neighbors, she was a cheerful and spontaneous child.

Cheerful, yes. Everything but closed.

The one who would go with anyone.

Yes, she would go with anyone, but preferably with a notary.

- I'm not saying that. - No, you're not.

- What am I typing? - Everything except closed.

You write everything down. Your questions are so low that you are ashamed.

From now on everything will be written down. Maybe you'll change your tone.

Fine. Age, occupation, family situation...

- Damn it. - Name, first name, occupation...

- I've been asked that 20 times already. - Now I'm asking.

You want everything written down. Are you Martinaud?

- Jérôme... - Jérôme, Charles, Emile.

Notary. Boulevard de Lattre. Jobourg, Manche.

- Are you married? No children? - Yes, no children.

- Because they make a mess? - I have no children

- because my wife can't have them. - Or doesn't want to?

- When it turned out it wasn't possible... - And adoption?

- The dog also belongs to the neighbors. - How tactful and sensitive you are.

And what about this, damn it? Does this show sensitivity?

The police found little Geneviève Le Bailly like this. On her stomach.

She was lying on her stomach and you had recognized her.

Yes, by her clothes and hair. I don't remember anymore.

A question for a cop. As if you can't recognize someone from behind.

- Come on now. - Oh yes.

From her tracksuit I saw it was Wednesday.

On Wednesdays she goes to the stadium. Wait a second.

Wednesday the 3rd. Brunet is right The dog could not have seen him.

He was already outside playing. I called him. That's how it was.

- And he followed you? - Yes, of course.

- Not a stupid dog. - I believe so too.

Tell me honestly, Martinaud,

Do you know why you're here?

I thought so.

You're here because you're suspected. From witness you've become suspect.

That happened gradually. Somewhere you slipped up.

- That surely didn't escape your notice. - Not really.

But I don't understand the slip-up.

Two girls have been murdered. Two children.

The first on November 25 on St Clément beach.

The second on December 3 in Jobourg park, near your house.

Unfortunately, you were nearby when the first murder occurred.

And at the second you were also on site, since you find the body.

And you alert the police.

We have too few walls to write the names of the murderers.

Who found their victims dead.

Which is logical because they knew.

You have a very personal interpretation of civic duty.

- I don't remember who said... - You forget a lot, don't you?

We're no longer safe when we enter a police station.

Because of people like you, you get goosebumps when you call the police.

- Let's forget those calls for a moment... - But why?

- The officer recognized my voice. - That's right.

If someone testifies for me, it's dismissed.

The inspector said 'just a moment'.

Fine.

And now? What are we going to talk about? Dogs, birds...

The first murder. The dunes of St Clément.

That was not long ago. The morning of Tuesday, November 25.

On the beach, on the south side.

The body of a child is found: Pauline Valera, eight years old.

Raped, killed by strangulation.

It happened in the bunker. She ran away and the killer caught her.

The same day your car is found in the harbor.

Less than a kilometer from the dunes. It had been there all night.

The police had noted the number at around 7:15 or 7:20.

The watches of Officer Berger and Brigadier Quéret are not synchronized.

- Hope you don't mind. - I'm not saying anything.

The girl is found half an hour later.

Had they synchronized the watches?

What stops me from shoving that machine in his mouth?