A Cop (Un flic)

"The only feelings mankind inspires in policemen

"are indifference and scorn."

A COP

Every afternoon at the same time

I'd start my rounds with the Champs-Elysées.

Car 8 here.

I'll hand you over.

Yes? Where?

On our way. Call you after.

I started well before nightfall,

but it wasn't until later, when the city slept,

that I could really get to work.

My name is Edouard Coleman.

Two steps back.

Two steps back!

This is a hold-up! Nobody move!

You, over there!

Leave the other one!

Keep your hats on till the station.

Three for Paris.

In an hour

I won't have a drop of blood left.

In an hour you'll be in bed at the clinic.

This'll just be a bad memory.

If they don't go after the train and we meet a roadblock,

you stop, Marc gets out,

we go through the roadblock

and come back for him after.

- But... - No, Paul. We'll do as I say.

Car 8.

I'll hand you over.

Yes.

Where?

On our way. Call you after.

Keep moving, please, there's nothing to see.

Hello.

- Your book. - I didn't copy her details.

- The card she filled in, then! - I can't find it.

That's impossible.

Explain it to Vice Squad.

They'll be kept busy.

Please...

Please, madam.

Go back to bed, please, sir.

Pacinelli, have you been playing cards?

A quick hand of poker. Then we were going.

You're not going anywhere until you've given a statement.

Car 8.

I'll hand you over.

Yes?

Where?

On our way. Call you after.

We're classic victims.

And we're dealing with real professionals.

They tell us they're 20 years old, then they rob us.

That's when they show us their ID cards.

We can't call the police for fear of being prosecuted

for corruption of minors.

It's what's known as a habitual offence.

You only get prosecuted if you re-offend.

We all do.

If he hadn't cried out and the concierge hadn't caught you,

this Maillol would be long gone.

I'd rather you went easy on him.

How old are you?

Seventeen and a half.

Only six months left.

If the judge decides you can go free, that is.

Your papers?

Sir.

Your present address?

- No, I live with a friend. - Of course.

Well?

Not even 50-50.

She's just gone past. That way.

Just let me park.

- All right? - Hello.

Well?

It'll be the Paris-Lisbon train. A customs man is involved.

- Day or night? - I don't know yet.

When?

As soon as they get the merchandise, they'll bring it to Paris.

Are you sure your fellow is the carrier?

Certain.

They pay him a lot for that.

He's been living off it for a year.

Know his name?

Just his nickname. Suitcase Mathieu.

He's a professional smuggler, a specialist.

You should be left alone.

Thanks, Edouard.

- Want to see them? - Just coming.

The classic trio:

the barger, the pickpocket and the runner.

Where were they working?

Orly airport, of course.

He knocks over a tourist with a wallet,

he picks him up, nicks the wallet

and hands it to the third, who scarpers.

They say they don't speak French.

Very well...

If they don't speak French, we'll speak another language.

Wait!

If you speak slowly, we will understand.

So? How did it go? Not too tired?

No.

Think you'll get the position?

I hope so.

They're less fussy in the provinces.

They don't think you're past it at 60, like in Paris.

Personnel manager for a big company in Strasbourg

is better than a sub-manager in a Paris bank.

Bloody hold-up at St-Jean-de-Monts

Hello, commissaire.

- Hello, commissaire. - Hello.

Sir,

you're wanted.

All right?

All right.

All hospitals and clinics will be searched thoroughly.

They know one of us was wounded.

We have to get Marc out.

What if we can't?

I've another solution.

Rapid fire isn't like normal shooting.

Keep your eyes on the target...

And forget about aiming.

First clear your jacket for a quick draw.

Weigh your pocket down with keys or a lighter.

Mr Coleman! Telephone.

Yes?

Too bad.

Tomorrow?

OK.

We've come for Mr Schmidt.

Why?

To take him to Lariboisière hospital.

On whose authority?

Schmidt.

"Lung punctured by unknown projectile, severe loss of blood,

"pulmonary embolism, intravenous drip necessary,

"semi-comatose state...

"Not to be moved."

But it's signed by Professor Durrieux.

One doesn't move a man in that state.

He should know that.

I don't care what Dr Durrieux says.

We have our orders.

And I'm telling you he's going nowhere!

There's not much chance of finding out who this Schmidt was.

If he had an ID card...

Or if he did us the favour of getting arrested at least once.

Yeah. Otherwise, nothing.

He'll be joining the legion of anonymous dead.

Maybe luck will smile on us

and we'll get a call from some other anonymous person.

The job makes us sceptical.

Especially about being sceptical!

The only feelings mankind inspires in policemen

are indifference and scorn.

Scorn...

Fast,

easy to handle,

in perfect condition,

with all the extras.

And, as I'll need two weeks to get the hang of it,

it's very urgent.

How will you pay?

Cash.

Pick me up here in two hours.

In the name of the law I arrest you.

- How did you find me? - It's my job.

Dead men arrest no one!

Don't you think Simon might suspect something?

He doesn't suspect. He knows.

For how long?

He's always known.

Tonight we'll have to drive non-stop,

500 miles, to go and dig up the cash.

- And the notes? - They're not marked.

The money arrives Thursday,

so the companies can pay all the workers on Friday.

With all the building work along the Atlantic coast,

they'd need ten employees extra per bank

to mark all that cash.

Probably. But I wanted to be extra sure.

The success of the second job depends on that of the first.

And it needs a big bankroll.

A pittance, compared to the score we're going to make.

There...

They'll hand the merchandise over to Suitcase Mathieu.

But, this time, not until Bordeaux.

They're getting more careful, more wary...

So it's only between Bordeaux and the border

that we can intervene.

It's the oldest electric line in France.

1923.

For two months,

all the old wiring will be dismantled,