Black Tide (Fleuve noir)

So...

No arguments?

No clashes with you or his dad?

No.

- When does his dad get back? - In one month.

One month.

I tried calling, but there's no answer.

My son isn't like that. He's not involved in anything.

When I leave a message for him, he calls me back.

You said there's no girlfriend.

No.

He's 17, don't you find that...

Sixteen.

Right, 16 or 17...

At that age, things happen...

that a mother doesn't know.

- Maybe little Denis... - Dany.

Yes, Dany.

Maybe little Dany met a girl he liked and...

they decided to hang out.

You don't see the hands moving around the clock.

And even if you do,

you forget about mommy at home whose heart is pounding.

Even if that were the case, he'd call me.

I'm telling you, I'm sure of it!

Shit.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Whose high school?

Where'd you catch him?

Go ahead, you can shake him up.

I'll be there in...

40 minutes.

Listen, ma'am,

good kids like your son don't just disappear.

I want you to go home.

I've got everything.

If we have no news tomorrow, we change plans.

BLACK TIDE

Hey, I got a life!

Hey, law dog, I'm waiting!

I said to sit down.

Sit down!

- Don't touch me... - Shut up!

I said shut up!

Why the fuck am I here?

Yeah, you're here.

Bunch of sickos.

I put him upstairs, away from the others.

Thanks.

There he is.

He does his business with the guy there.

He says "no."

And he splits.

He's nothing, we want his contacts.

There's a new network on the boulevard.

A gang from the suburbs.

Heavy shit.

I can already hear his old lady.

What's he doing messed up in that?

Look at that. Little piece of shit.

Fucking hell.

Phone, wallet, keys... that's nothing.

Just his personal smoke.

It's crap on top of it.

Open the cage.

I'm keeping the phone, okay?

Pleased with yourself?

So what now?

Speak up, what now!

For the law, you're a full-fledged adult.

You can go to jail, be tried by a judge...

It's simple,

they want the names of your suppliers.

I'm listening.

I'm listening!

Talk!

I told them.

Told them what?

- What? - They're from the burbs.

- From the burbs? - We don't know them.

We bought it...

in the metro.

You think I'm a dumbass?

You know who you're talking to?

You idiot!

You got mixed up in some very big organized traffic.

So stop playing moron and give me their names.

Look at me when I talk to you!

We don't sell.

- We give it to our buds. - Goddamn.

Look, dumb-fuck...

every school has cameras.

Your little game was filmed.

Stupid shit. What's with the haircut?

You look like a faggot with your jeans halfway down your ass!

What's your number?

Have you told you mother?

No.

Here.

I'll let you announce the good news.

- Hi, François. - You look wiped out.

You go riding last night?

Excuse me?

- François? - Yeah?

A lady came by, Mrs. Arnault.

Her son didn't come home last night.

Coffee first.

Her son goes to Benjamin Franklin High School.

The two kids who joined the Jihad went there.

Call William.

Send him over to the school.

Have him ask each kid if he ever mentioned the Middle East,

North Africa, Islam, the Jihad...

Okay.

- Where's Sadi? - In the boy's room.

Call him right away.

- How's it going? - I haven't found much.

Harmless online games.

Teenage stuff.

Can I question your daughter alone?

- I'd rather. - No, I'll stay with her.

She doesn't know yet, I don't want to frighten her.

Solange?

- It's my husband. - Of course.

He wants to talk to you again.

What?

They're searching his room.

Nothing, no extremist propaganda, nothing about arms.

School started at 9:00 am on Wednesday.

His books and bag are missing.

300 euros in a savings account but I can't find the card.

François?

- They're waiting downstairs. - I'm coming.

Make sure you get the statements signed.

Call me if you find any relevant information.

Those who are done wait for the others.

Three kids in the same school, there must be a recruiter.

Call the district attorney.

I'll go see the other two kids' parents.

I don't know, see if they hung out together.

Fucking pain.

Okay, see you later.

What floor?

Fifth.

I'm going to four.

Is something going on?

Yeah.

- You live in the building? - Yes.

Dany Arnault has gone missing.

What do you mean?

Missing. He's gone missing.

No one's seen him since last night.

- Are you leading the investigation? - Yes.

- I know Dany well. - Oh yeah?

I was his French tutor last year.

As a teacher, you pick up on certain unspoken things.

If I can help...

You have anything that could give us a lead?

A name, a place, something about his family...

voyages, foreign countries?

No, nothing like that.

- You are? - Mr. Bellaile.

I live upstairs from the Arnaults.

Okay...

Anything you recall could interest us.

Hello, Marie.

I'm a friend of Dany's.

I came to see him today, but...

The man is a friend. He's going to ask you some questions.

Where's Dany?

Where is he?

Do you know?

Marie, don't play with your skirt.

Did Dany...

say he was going to see a friend?

Did he say he had a sweetheart?

He has a sweetheart?

You keep her at home with you?

She's never been to a specialized school?

No, I take care of her.

I see.

Ever hear the name "Sécou"? Look here.

The youngest Aboubaka brother. They run the boulevard.

We don't know how involved your son is. Some kids deal a little,

others do real business with the Senegalese.

You're a lucky kid, you're going home.

Who's this piece of scum?

We went away for the weekend. I barely know him.

Fuck you! What's he doing in your phone?

He's no one.

I don't know, shit!

Get out of here, you make me sick.

We'll have lunch tomorrow and talk it over calmly.

We gotta get your ass out of the shithole you got in.

Go easy on your mom, she's pretty shaken up.

I'll pick you up tomorrow.

Hey, did you hear...

I'll pick you up tomorrow!

Little prick.