Sleepless Night (Nuit blanche)

The Mask.

- That one's yours. - How can you tell?

Smells of cigarettes.

They're turning into Rue du Ruisseau.

Out of the car! Hands on the dash!

Out of the car! Open the trunk!

Slowly.

The trunk.

The bag! Give me the bag! Move it!

Stop, Manuel! You're crazy!

Stop!

Stop!

Shit!

Fucking shit!

Damn... I'm guessing more than ten kilos... fuck.

Not bad, huh?

Dad! I'm going to be late.

Yeah... I'm coming.

- How's your cocoa? - The milk is bad.

Try it. Smells of Roquefort.

- Shows you've never been to war. - Whereas you...

Here.

Cows don't make powdered milk.

Thomas.

- What's this? - Coffee.

- And what's this coffee like? - Powdered.

Powdered.

I don't know why kids are talking like that now.

I don't talk like that. Your mother neither.

- We're late. You going to get dressed? - Have you seen my blue polo?

No.

If you looked after your stuff...

I look after my stuff. Don't turn me into something I'm not.

Are you alright? Not too shaken?

- See, you found it. Where was it? - Up your ass.

- Got new shoes? - Yeah, I stole them.

What?

Julien gave them to me for my grades.

So, he's interested in your academic results?

Yes. It was strange. I'm not used to that.

I'll see you this evening. I might be home late so don't wait for me.

- As usual... - Next week I'll make an effort.

Next week?

It's the holiday, I'm going away with Mom and Julien.

Oh yeah.

So we won't see much of each other.

What does that change?

I have a difficult job. You understand that?

Yeah, yeah. Julien has a difficult job. So do I. So does everybody.

And anyway, I don't care.

Morning. I'm following up on the Rue du Ruisseau shooting this morning.

Why, do you think it was a gangland killing?

Gianni Almetto, 43 years old, 2 bullets in the gut.

Drugs, girls, blackmail, various rackets...

14 years behind bars, it all fits.

He's linked to the Marcianos and the Corsicans.

They have a nightclub the other side of the ring road.

Hi.

You didn't get yourself patched up?

You're crazy, Vincent. I'll take you to the doc...

I will go later. You don't understand.

- We have to go back. - Where?

- There, to clean up the mess. - Are you nuts?

I know him. I already met him. He's a shit-stirrer. We're in trouble.

If a crook gets killed, it's because of a cop.

- What department? - Rat Squad.

- What's his name? - Lacombe.

I already talked to your colleagues.

I was woken by the gunshots.

What were they like?

- What? - Physically, what did they look like?

Were they white, black, Asian, Arab?

The one without the mask could be a guy like you...

- Are you sure? - In fact, it's funny you look like him.

Oh yeah?

But that won't get you very far.

- No, probably not. - Thank you, sir.

What is it Julia? I can't talk right now.

What? I can't understand you. What about Thomas?

I've called him. I've left messages but I get no answer.

You're probably worried about nothing. He's only been out of school for...

- It's already 7 o'clock. - Yes, it is.

It's Friday night, maybe his battery is dead.

- Or maybe he left it at my place. - He never forgets it at my place.

- With you everything's perfect. - What should I do now, Vincent?

What do I do now? Call the police?

- Are you pregnant? - Yes, five months, darling.

Well, at least now I know.

Do you know how many missing persons there are per week?

Dozens. And most of them are teenagers.

- Who 2 or 3 hours later turn up at home. - Yes, but that doesn't help us now.

- This is your son. - If you know my job better than I do...

This is so typical of you. You don't give a shit.

We'll look around his school together.

- Where are you going? - To the cops.

The real ones.

Shit!

Are you alright?

Thomas, damn, where are you?

Vincent. It's Jose. Jose Marciano.

What the fuck do you want, Marciano?

I think you know.

- What is this? Where's Thomas? - You were recognized...

- What are you talking about? - Let me finish.

I want the bag, I know you have it.

- What are you saying, Jose? - You'll understand.

- Dad? - Yes, Thomas, I'm here. Are you okay?

Yeah, who are these guys? What do they want?

Dad? What do these guys want?

I'm coming right now. I'm coming to get you.

I'll sort this out, Thomas.

Let me talk to him.

Vincent?

Marciano, if you touch a single hair on my son...

Straight to threats.

I assume you understand. We picked him up outside his school...

Thomas is drinking a cocktail, an exotic fruit cocktail.

- What's in your cocktail, Thomas? - I have a big order to fill.

And you've complicated it, so don't show up empty-handed.

You know the address.

Hey, you've reached Thomas's voicemail. Leave a message...

Get up.

What do we do now?

I'll give him the bag and get my son back.

We need that money. We shouldn't worry.

There are 3 kilos more than we thought. It's a blessing.

I have debts, I need this!

You are sick!

Is there a problem?

It's okay. We're just talking about football.

- Everything's okay. - We're good.

I hget the feeling you too could want to screw me.

If the bad isn't in the hiding place...

Yes, it's me. We're in some shit.

Deep, deep shit. We need to meet right away.

He wants to give the dope back to Marciano.

He organized this. He takes me with him...

We split everything 50-50. It's all good. And now he backs off.

And what about me?

The guy I killed... It'll be traced back to us.

- They'll come looking for us. - Stops!

You're worked up. You're pissing me off! You're getting on my nerves!

For now, you're on stand-by/ Look at me! Listen to me!

You're not listening. Listen to me!

For now don't move a muscle, understand?

He must be there already.

And where the hell is my coffee?

You're going down there.

And as for your share, it's no longer 50-50, it's 40-60.

Seeing that you fucked up.

And since there's there extra kilos, you can't complain.

We do as usual. We change cell phones.

Here. Take this.

Throw it away after you use it.

And don't forget to delete all the shit from it.

- Have a nice night. - Good evening.

- I need to check the bag. Please open it. - I can't do that.

That's the rule. Would you please open it?

Will this do? No need to call your boss. I have an appointment.

- Okay, that's fine. - Have a good evening.

- Avoid the sportswear next time. - Yeah.

Good evening.

Another one? Is there a seminar or something.

- Something like that. - Nice ass!

What's with the cops tonight?

Holy shit!

- Hello? - It's me.

I took the initiative of following Vincent Garrel.

He's at a nightclub, The Tarmac. I'm also there.

He hid a bag in the restroom above a fake ceiling.

With, I don't know, a fortune inside.

- It's heavy. Muse be a lot of coke. - Whatever you do, don't touch the drugs.

- It's okay, I've hidden it. - Hidden?

- Next door. - Next door?

Are you going to repeat everything I say?

It's in the ladies bathroom above the fake ceiling.

Why did you decide to move important evidence?

- So what should I do, move it back? - No, don't touch anything. Where's Garrel?

I have no idea. I'm in the ladies restroom.

Find him and don't let him go!

I was going to bed... I'm on my way.

Fuck! I can't believe it...

There's a problem at the pool tables.

Five sluts with loads of makeup and skirts up to their asses are dancing on the tables.

Tell Sidney to throw them out. And hands off, eh Sidney?

Understand?

He's got nothing with him, what's this?

You've come empty-handed? That's not good!

Is that all?

The rest is in a safe place. Where's my son?

I don't get it. You don't want to see your son again?

I'm 18 hours late. I'm taking a big risk. Very big!

- OK. - Seems to be the same, where's the rest?

- Where's my son? I want to see him. - Fatherly love..

Stop it, Jose. You have 3 sons. So where is he?

And a daughter.

Where is Thomas?

I want my coke, you want your son. I can understand.

Abel? Right away!

Laeticia. Two years and a half, almost three.