La garce

PARIS, OCTOBER 1977

I'm soaked now.

Thanks! If you weren't there, he would've come back.

Gosh, what an evening! I'm dripping everywhere.

There are Kleenex in the back.

I've used the whole box.

I'm freezing.

What a bastard! I can't believe it!

What happened?

Is there no heating?

Give it 30 seconds.

Don't give me that look.

It's weird.

We have an individual who's been injured...

You're a cop?

Been a naughty girl?

Don't patronize me.

- Got any ID? - My name is Aline. Aline Kaminker.

- And you don't have your ID? - That Jaguar driver was attacking me.

He's hit me before, but never this hard.

- He's my boyfriend. - Is that true?

- How old are you? - Just look! Look at the bruises he left!

It's true! I'm not lying.

It was just a little fight.

Don't take me to the station.

Sabatier here. Car 16-89-B.

I'm on the corner of Boulevard Sulte.

All quiet, heading back.

- Over. Thanks. - Okay, copy.

Where are we going?

TO JIM

Who was that in the Jaguar?

You won't say?

It's a secret?

That's smart.

No!

No!

Say something, goddammit! Defend yourself.

What came over you?

Do you know how old she is?

Seventeen.

You're a headcase.

It takes a real idiot of a cop to...

Kaminker, Aline.

Born 21 November 1960,

placed in the care of the state in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Beffroit.

Beffroit... Ding ding, morning bells are ringing!

You're screwed, Lucien. The Inspectorate won't hold back.

You raped an orphaned minor.

This is desperate.

You'll get the max.

Yes?

No, I don't care about those damn journalists.

Cordet, I want to be done with this.

I'm exhausted.

An orphaned minor.

Wasn't it fucking obvious?

Will you stop? I'm sick of your lectures.

Okay, sure... Your wife and kids will be sick of this too.

That's enough.

Brunet? Brunet?

Bring in the "ding-ding" family.

Stay strong, Lucien.

We're here. We won't abandon you.

LA SANTÉ PRISON, SIX YEARS LATER

Sabatier, free to go.

You look well, Lucien.

Good to see you on the outside.

Are you bringing me money and a gun, Commissioner?

District.

District Commissioner Cordet, Crime Squad.

- And you're replacing him? - No.

I left the force for good.

I've gone private, with Didier.

- You'll be working with him. - Working?

We said we wouldn't abandon you.

You're six years late.

I couldn't come any earlier.

You got extra time because you were a cop

and you're getting extra help now for the same reason.

Don't be stupid, Lucien. It'll help you get back on your feet.

Think of your wife and kids.

Patricia has remarried, thanks, and I'd rather the boys forgot me.

Imagine the mood when they start dating...

No chance, Brunet.

Thanks, guys, but I don't want hand-outs.

Stubborn git! I'll let you think about it.

THREE MONTHS LATER...

Blimey! The bastard didn't waste any time.

Nice figure on her.

Drop the Langlois case. We're understaffed.

Anything from the pool?

I think the girl spotted me.

Put Didier on it. He'll swim better.

Didier?

Yes?

- Got swimming trunks? - Yes, why?

You're going to the pool.

Lucien will hand you the file.

I set up an agency to avoid paperwork and just look...

Why so miserable, Lucien?

What's wrong, swallowed your tongue?

No, just a flu.

Try homeotherapy. There's nothing like it.

Oscillococcinum before breakfast from day one.

Anyway, Dujarric's waiting in Didier's office.

It's a good case.

Someone's copying clothing designs in the Sentier.

You know the area. Don't say anything antisemitic there...

One last thing: there's money in it.

So don't do anything silly.

Don't play dumb. Your pool story didn't fool me.

In three months here, you've never given up a case.

Isabelle, has my wife called?

Yes. I left her message on Didier's desk.

Hey, what's this about a swimming pool?

- And there's a guy in my office for you? - It seems so.

Mr. Sabatier?

André Dujarric, sales director at Sarah Muriel.

I'm listening.

Excuse me.

SAMUEL WEBER DRESSMAKING AND HOSIERY

Thank you.

Lucien! My brother! Give me five!

Bring it in.

Marcel, two Martinis.

- Plain or with zest? - Plain.

See, Lucien? Rony is free.

- Since when? - A week, but I've moved on.

How are you getting on? You look well!

Working?

Tailing people, but I'm a private detective.

What are your plans?

I'm back with my sweetheart. I put the company in her name

obviously, after my trouble with false invoices.

Now my girlfriend's the boss and I'm the warehouse worker.

We did split up though. So I'm on rue Quincampoix now.

How's your family?

Is your wife still remarried?

Clearly.

You've lost the family guy look.

Marcel, are you napping?

It's my shout. We lived together.

We never believed your predator stuff,

because on your own,

it's hard to rape a girl without a fight, so I just don't buy it.

You haven't learned much. You still stare.

Lucien, don't tell me you're staring at Ms. Weber.

What?

That's her?

- That girl? - Quiet, it's like Ashkenaz here.

- Is that girl Édith Weber? - She's definitely not a nobody!

Similar, but very different.

You non-Jews understand nothing.

Now listen. We invented psychoanalysis, relativity, the class struggle.

So here's some advice.

That girl is taken. Forget her.

Thanks, Rony. I have to go.

Drop by my place. 37 rue Quincampoix.

- Hi. - Hi!

Hey, it was nice to see you.

- Didier wants his office back. - I won't be long.

I'm with Dujarric.

I wanted to ask you for an intel report

on him and a Ms. Édith Weber.

W-E-B-E-R, like the musician.

She has a shop at 11, rue du Croissant. It's urgent.

Yes, Commissioner.

- Feeling at home in my office? - I won't be much longer.

- How did it go at the pool? - Swimmingly.

Intel report.

Only on the Weber girl.

Don't bother with Dujarric. Chop-chop, it's urgent.

Yes, Commissioner.

She takes notes, sketches, just like a journalist would.

But she isn't a journalist.

And by night, what does she do?

She stays at home.

Above the shop, alone, which is a shame for someone so pretty.

She goes to bed at 10:00 p.m. And I, too, go home alone.

In my humble opinion, Mr. Dujarric, I'm afraid your suspicions are unfounded.

Spare me your humble opinion.

Others have complained too.

Other designers have noticed her too.

I'm sure she's stealing our designs.

- Is your jacket one of them? - We only do women's clothes.

Thought as much.

Listen, Sabatier--

If she's stealing your designs, I'll catch her.

Does that work?

That works.

But be warned...

I'm not as stupid as I look.

Aline.

Antoine?

Antoine?

Oh! Lucien, fill me in. I haven't heard from you in days.

Don't you worry. I was on stakeout every night.

Every night? Find anything on the Sentier thief?

She's not a thief.