TONIGHT AT 8:30 SOLD OUT
No, just a moped.
"Mobilette"?
No, I'm a postman.
Darling, you were so moving!
The princess insists on meeting you.
I'm so happy to meet you!
What a show!
I mean it, really.
She is just sublime!
There's Nadia.
What's she doing?
Hold on. Somethings off.
Bye!
- I'm so sorry. - You didn't see anything, you punk.
Police.
- Get lost. - Stay put!
Look out!
Quick! Quick!
Fuck!
Your portfolio, miss.
- Your portfolio. - What about it?
Come on.
Have you seen enough?
My apologies.
WHO STOLE THE DIVA'S DRESS?
- Is that the Opera house? - No, that's my ass.
Don't worry, I don't work there.
- You like jazz? - What a question!
If I didn't, I'd steal mambo records.
Too bad I'm more into the disco type. Classical music doesn't excite me.
I'm not into classical music, I'm into opera.
This is the opening.
Well, you'd better hurry, 'cause I'm about to close.
No Worries.
- You don't mind talking? - I actually do.
- Was that you on the picture? - No, it was a crocodile.
- So What's the trick? - Check it out.
- Not bad. - I made it myself.
How do you handle box sets?
- I have another trick. - What is it?
- Say... - Do you steal a lot of records?
It's not for me. I give them as presents.
- To whom? - You're pretty nosy.
It's for some guy.
A very cool guy.
- Who is he? - Some Wop. He's Rasta.
Can you slovv down?
He dreams of stopping the waves.
So really...
...you're into opera.
An opera lover is inviting me for dinner tonight.
She left this morning.
In the middle of the street I know, but we got her.
We didn't have a choice.
She won't talk to anyone now.
We're dealing with it now. No trace at all.
I don't like cars.
So, Nortier, did you identify the girl?
Yes. Her name's Nadia Kalanski,
a former prostitute who disappeared months ago.
What's interesting is that we were after her.
- Do you have a file? - We were inquiring
on an international drug and Woman trafficking network.
Yes, your supposed West Indian network.
- I know you're having doubts- - I don't have doubts about anything.
You've never provided us with any reliable witnesses.
They always end up dead.
Paula, what the fuck were you doing at the station when she died?
- Taking the train? - This is no coincidence.
He contacted me last night so I could meet her.
- Who's this guy? - One of my informers.
- He's a dumb-ass. - So which is he?
He was released on parole
and the judge found him a job in a local raffle stand.
The best path to righteousness.
According to your statement,
that Nadia what's-her-face
was killed because she was going to talk.
She said she knew the identity...
...of the West Indian network's real boss.
- So she knew the West Indian guy. No, because in fact...
...the real boss is not West Indian.
It's someone more important. She had things to say.
- What things? - She didn't have time to say much.
- She was making calls in secret. - Was she being watched?
All I know is that she woke me last night.
It sounded like she was being hunted down.
She asked me to pick her up at the station. She wanted my protection.
- Protect her? You? - We have a history.
So why did you get in touch with the police?
- What? - Why go to the cops?
This was way too big for me. And we weren't together anymore.
All that's in the past. I didn't know anything, so I called you.
- Why did you stop me from interfering? - I didn't stop anyone.
I wanted to see what was going on.
We saw what went on, and now we know nothing.
What were the charges against him?
Indecent exposure involving a minor.
Double-check on that...
as usual.
Those witnesses of yours...
all losers.
You're the losers!
I know your tricks
you've listened to the tape, but you still want me to talk.
Well, I don't know anything. You have the tape and that's enough.
The tape?
- Did you find a tape? - No.
Krantz, you never mentioned a tape.
There was nothing to say.
You knew I was going to introduce you to Nadia.
There's Nadia. Hold on.
Somethings off.
She said she had everything on tape,
that it would be enough to get the guy put away.
- Stay put! - From where we were sitting
we couldn't see a thing. We were way too far.
The tape is in the postman's bag.
We have to find it.
- And three. - Is that all?
They said I'd get a bigger pension after they worked on the street.
That's baloney, Mom.
Bigger streets don't make bigger pensions.
All right...
bye now.
Bye!
So, am I coloratura or opera?
- So, which am I? - You're more the drama type.
- Drama? - Yep.
- But you said opera. - Of course not.
Drama's just as good. It's even better.
- This way. - Pretty gloomy setting.
You think?
A monument to disaster...
deluxe style!
What's this one?
I can see the little missy has good taste.
This one's a Rolls Royce.
A Corniche.
It happened in Monaco, at the casino,
and it involved a palm tree.
We really are nothing.
A Rolls Royce doesn't look like it could be in an accident.
He had one just like that when he offered me a ride.
I didn't hesitate for a second, of course.
Sure. Now, if you'll follow me.
Nice loft!
- You like it? - I sure do!
The former owner didn't lack pep!
- Would you like something to drink? - Sure.
Cool!
It's not chilled, but it's bubbly.
I can't drink from a can. Do you have a straw?
- A straw? - You know
- the kind that's crooked. - Crooked?
Yes. It's very chic.
She looks like Raquel.
No wonder the former owner had a car accident,
with those paintings and all.
Well, well, well...not bad!
- Saint Jules! - Yeah.
Here. That's the only crooked thing I have.
That's crooked?
It's crooked, yes. It's the most crooked thing I have.
- What's Wrong? - It stinks of gas!
It's a radiator hose.
It makes sense.
Is that your "Agra"?
It's "Nagra," with an N.
- How does it work? - What are you doing?
Don't touch my stuff. This is precious.
Don't touch it.
You're so fussy! What could I do to your "Nagra"?
The levels were precisely set.
You and your Nagra...
Is that her?
Is that Cynthia Hawkins?
Yep.
She's so beautiful!
- You think so? - She's stunning.
My God, Jules, are you in love?
Of course I'm not in love.
- Yes, you are. - I'm not in love.
Hold on.
Listen to her. Put that on.
Wait.
What are you doing to my watch?
My Watch!
Don't cry, baby, I got a much better one
that'll be perfect for a little toad like you.
That's a Rolex!
The first thing I ever stole.
You know how much that thing costs?
I do.
Thanks, Jules.
This is "La Wally," by Catalani.
It takes place in the mountains.
This Woman is broken-hearted and she wants to die.
She sings:
I want to go away, very far away,
where the clouds are golden
where the snow is white.
You'll never see me again.
Never again."
It's tragic.
At the end, she throws herself in an avalanche corridor.
- Wow, that's great! Listen. It's about to start.
Orphaned or unemployed,
refugee or heart-broken-
luck is an unfaithful lover.
All bets are off!
Don't pick the ace of spades. It's bad luck.
Get a hold of her mane!
All Winners get a gift,
the losers get my sympathy.
Try your luck while the wheel's still turning.
Yes, ma'am, it's turning!
See!
We have a Winner.
I told you.
- Come on. - Too bad.
- We already have Beethoven. - Come on!
I don't like Beethoven!
What a trip! What a voice!
- Can I borrow it? - Yes, but you must return it.
Promised.
You know what time it is?
Do this again and I'll drop you off back on the Interstate,
with the Vietcong.
Don't be mad, okay?
I had an amazing trip.
Just wait.
"La Wally," act 1.
Cynthia Hawkins. How did you get it?
She's never recorded anything.
Hi, there.
- It must be nice to be a postman. - I guess it depends.
You bring love letters to people.
Traffic tickets too.
I don't care, I don't have a car.
In my family, they all work for the postal service.
Do you know Mark, my brother-in-law? A tall guy.
Maybe. But you know there's plenty of us.
- You like this lamp? - Yeah.
I got it at wholesale price, and it still cost me a fortune.
It creates a nice atmosphere.
Okay, enough talking.
I've never seen you before. You're a cutie.
You should come see me again.
It's hot in here.
You seem a little nutty.
I am.
They didn't steal any of your equipment?
I don't think so.
I couldn't stay there. It's a disaster zone.
- Are you stupid or What? - What?
I'm telling you it's the cops. It's obvious.
Two guys came by this afternoon,
asking for the addresses of all postmen riding mopeds.
Those guys are nuts.
But why?
I don't understand any of that crap.
- I'm beat. - Good job.
He doesn't work for the airmail service.
He's not used to so much pressure.
- It's pressing on my ribs. - What is?
His helmet. I'm not used to sleeping with men Wearing helmets.
It could save him if there's an earthquake.
It's true. They talked about it on TV the other day.
What's that mattress brand where you can get your beauty sleep?
I'm telling you, they showed up five minutes ago.
They look like fascists. I'm telling you.
They look a little sadistic.
Okay, keep me posted. Bye.
What are they looking for?
What are those two guys looking for?
You, buddy.
They came back,
those two cops.
What kind of shit did you get yourself into?
Ayatollah, time for breakfast.
You're not hungry?
Can I borrow some money?
I guess.
And your Malaguti?
I can't keep my moped.
Hello!
Okay for the money, but not for the Malaguti.
I'm breaking it in.
You don't know what that is, of course.
- Break it in, then. - Exactly.
It's small but powerful.
Be very careful with it.
Take it easy, okay? This is no heavy machinery.
Listen to that. Let its music guide you.
Stop blabbering so I can hear it, then.
Don't you worry, okay?
- Be careful. - Bye now.
- Thanks for the money! - Sure.
- What the hell are you doing? - Forgot my gloves.
Okay, bye-
Watch the mileage!
She's a little too tall.
She's not bad-looking, though. She's got curves.
Look at this mess!
He'll need a cleaning lady.
I think it's already been cleaned up.
Nadia's out,
Krantz is out--
they're obviously looking for the same thing we are.
- But they're one step ahead of us. - Maybe they have better rhythm than us.
Very funny. If only we knew who they'll invite to dance next.
This is no ordinary place.
Who are you?
- I'm delivering flowers. - Put them over there.
Did Nicole give you something?
- No, I should give you something. - Give me something?
I recognize you.
The moped.
Are you the postman?
I'm sorry.
Who do you think I am, the Beatles?
I am no disco singer.
I wanted to see you again.
Do you know what happens to people like you?
Do you?
I'll call the hotel director
and have you thrown out.
- That's all you deserve. - Please, don't.
I could have pressed charges.
You're a lucky man.
But... you--
Do you steal the dresses of all singers?
Not at all.
So I guess I'm the lucky one.
I have a fan.
I went to see you in Bordeaux.
And I went to Munich last year,
just to see your concert.
- You went to Munich to see me? - I did.
With my moped.
With your moped?
I'm late for my press conference.
Please excuse me.
You went from Paris to Munich on a moped?
- You must be kidding. - Not at all.
You even sang Wagner's
"Wesendonck Lieder."
You were Wearing a blue dress, with pearls on it.
A little girl even gave you some red roses.
There were 18 encores but you refused to sing.
You didn't want to.
My dress didn't get stolen that night.
Don't you like blue, Mr. Postman-Dress stealer?
This is as frivolous as a Satie piece.
What's your name, "Mr. Postman"?
- Jules. - Jules?
It's an old name for a young man like you.
I thought the French were modern.
My father was old-fashioned.
I'm kidding.
"Jules" fits you so poorly
that it fits you perfectly.
Jules...
Everybody knows
you've always declined making records.
But today's technology allows for quasi-perfect sound.
- So what's holding you back? - I sing out of passion.
And I can't sing alone.
I need my public.
A concert is a privileged moment
for the artist and her audience.
It's a unique moment.
So you are against making art a business?
Not at all, but business should adapt to art,
not the other way around.
And what does your manager, Mr. Weinstadt, think of that?
Why don't you ask him the question?
What do you think of bootleg recordings?
It is theft, rape even.
I despise it...
People call you a diva.
Do you feel like a diva?
And if you do, do you have unreasonable demands?
What does he mean?
He's talking about whims.
Our little postman has a date with her later.
She's going to a party.
She might not even show up She's a diva, after all.
A diva?
But she might show up.
I'll put on another record. Give me a hand,
you diva...
I'll play "Space."
It's got to be at the right temperature.
The baguette.
The knife:
not too big, not too small.
The bread:
fresh,
but not too much.
It's an art, really.
The world envies us for that.
Look at this.
You spread it like so.
Some people get high on airplane glue, on laundry detergent-
complicated stuff.
My satori is this:
the zen experience of spreading butter.
You can look.
The knife disappears, the bread disappears, the butter disappears.
What remains is the repeated gesture of the hand...
a movement.
And space.
Its emptiness.
- You know, it's pricey - Caviar is?
No. This is a gift from Alba.
I'm talking about your recording.
First, you can't find her music in stores,
and that concert was the best.
And so What?
I do it for myself.
For the pure enjoyment of it.
Enjoyment?
Enjoyment? But enjoyment is never unmotivated.
- But that's just me. - If you knew how many he's got.
Tell him how many you have.
- Come on! - How many I had, you mean.
- How many you had? - Everything was damaged.
What?
After you left last night, I went for a ride.
When I got back, my place had been broken into.
That's crazy!
- Was anything stolen? - No.
My equipment didn't move,
but my recordings were fucked up.
- I think the cops did it. - You must be paranoid.
Why the cops?
- How do you know it was the oops? - I don't know...
I went to Saint-Lazare station yesterday, during my round.
A Woman was arrested by the cops right before my eyes.
One of them almost punched me The whole thing was fishy.
Freaky.
- The oops? - I saw his badge.
His having a badge doesn't make him a Scout!
Something happened at Saint-Lazare yesterday.
But they didn't arrest the girl.
She got clipped.
I don't like parking lots!
We're closing shop. Did you clean things up?
Everything's been shutdown. No more shipments.
The last girls were send out last night.
I warned the Working girls myself.
Problem is, We're stuck with two pounds of smack.
- Get rid of it. - It's going to cost us.
But you're risking your skin.
Leave nothing or nobody behind.
- Nothing. - Here's the postman's file.
You'll find a picture, a report,
information on his vehicle.
The police are moving forward
and are still in control.
It'll have to be swift and clean.
We have gone through his studio,
so there's no need to go back.
I have two inspectors under cover there,
but I doubt he'll go back.
The problem is, someone's looking for him,
and that I can't control.
You have to find him. He's too dangerous.
Nadia was taken out. It's only a tape after all.
Shut up. He saw you.
I want that tape at any cost, and as soon as possible,
before the cops get it.
Don't ever forget that if I go down you go down with me.
Swift and clean.
Tell me, good man,
don't you think I'm looking old?
No, Spanish.
You're looking old and Spanish.
I have to go.
You diva.
Do you want your recording back or not?
I'd rather you keep it. Do you mind?
As you wish. So you're leaving?
Here you go, little Alien.
Don't get arrested.
She's the queen of Africa.
She's the queen of the night.
I went to the best jewelers and I bought everything!
Almost. Look at this.
- How much? - No, that's for you.
- Really? - Really.
Thank you, Jules.
Thank you.
Good-bye.
This is a magic bird.
We'd like to talk about the Cynthia Hawkins recording,
- Mr. Gorodish. - I'm listening.
We believe there's a very good quality recording out there,
taken at Ms. Hawkins' latest concert.
- You think so? - That recording-
how can I put it-- is of interest to us.
As long as we get exclusive access to it, of course.
Don't you think it's a little too early to talk business?
We'll call you back.
The buffalo's patience knows no limit,
neither does its strength.
"Abissus abissurn invocat."
What's "abissus abissurn"?
It means "Deep calls to deep."
Really, it would be great!
She's beautiful, proud, sensual- a real Woman!
Jules, watch out for the jam.
You think I could have all those qualities?
Of course! It's only a character.
Don't apologize.
You were talking about "La Tosca," not about me.
If you weren't for real,
- I wouldn't believe it. - What do you mean?
You know music too well.
I'm talking about opera.
- But I love music. - I know.
We both do.
Speaking of music,
I have work to do.
Would you like me to leave?
No. It's funny,
but I think I'd like you to stay
while I'm working.
- Can I take a bath... - Excuse me?
- ...while you're singing? - Go ahead.
Go.
Jules?
No one has ever heard me rehearse.
I won't say a word.
Yes, he's here.
Jules, it's for you.
Nobody knows I'm here.
- Who is it? - We dropped by your place last night.
- Why don't you ask Ms. Hawkins... - I don't understand.
- ...what she thinks of pirating - You're making a mistake.
We want the recording and we'll get it.
Jules? Do you like it hot?
Are you okay? Did you get bad news?
No.
I like it very hot.
Mr. Weinstadt?
Is there something wrong, Jules?
I'm fine.
There's nothing new, but two detectives are watching his apartment.
That Nadia is a whore,
a Whore who wants her freedom, who wants to get away.
So she makes up a story so we back her up,
but they catch up to her...
and decide they should make an example of her.
So she gets stabbed.
As to your West Indian guy, he's a common pimp
who laid it a little heavy on her.
Krantz got killed the same way.
He was killed for the same reason.
I don't buy that international network thing--
a crime organization
with a West Indian covering up
for some mysterious, big shot boss.
It's quite a funny story, Nortier.
- But the kid's running. - That's what kids do.
- But his place was searched. - Maybe that was a common break-in.
Did you notice the equipment at his place?
He left, but he'll come back
- and you'll find him. - With an ice pick in his back.
It looks like our latest clues confirm your theories.
We found his moped Where he spent the night before last.
See?
Of course, the bags were empty.
He left with his friend's motorcycle, some delivery guy.
I'm sorry, Cynthia dear, but I have some bad news.
I need to talk to you.
Please do.
As you wish.
I was just contacted by two Taiwanese men.
They claim to have a recording of your latest recital.
I must say that if I didn't believe such a recording existed,
- I wouldn't even mention it. - This is not the first time it happens.
It is, because the quality of the recording is perfect.
It was taken from the center third row with professional equipment.
And Taiwan never signed
any international copyright agreement.
So what do they want?
They leave us no choice:
either you sign an exclusive record deal with them, or...
- Or What? - They'll pirate it.
They'll do without your signature.
They'll use the recording to release a record...
and they'll put it on the market, with no guaranteed quality standard
and of course, nothing in it for us.
It's blackmail!
Let them release their record.
- I'll never sign! - Listen to me.
I understand your feelings.
And I've always respected them.
You were able to handle your career as you Wished,
according to your desires.
It's nice to have ideals and principles,
and journalists love that.
But some asshole made a recording.
It's for real, and you can't deny it.
It's not about pride anymore.
So you can go on acting like a diva,
or you can decide to be a responsible artist
and you make that record.
We can turn things around to your advantage.
Cynthia.
Excuse me for saying this, but you're 32 years old.
You can't perform more than twice a month,
and even that's exhausting.
You already had a scare in Munich.
No voice is eternal, except through recordings,
and you need to think of it now.
A pirated record would have
unbearable consequences on your career.
And they won't stop there.
That would set a precedent.
Please think carefully.
I have until tomorrow.
Simon, please.
I thought you were my friend.
Cynthia, please, don't mix everything up.
You have the right to live in complete contradiction,
but I won't be part of it.
They won't make me do it.
Especially not this way.
I'll be right back.
Where are you going?
I'm going to pick up something.
I'm a born runner.
It's genetic.
Check it out, I have thighs of steel.
- Go on, touch them. - Not again!
- Are you scared or something? - Of course not.
- I'm just tired of you. - Okay, so don't touch them.
But don't forget I made seventh place at the police tournament in '78.
You have to train to keep in shape, but still...
Thanks for reminding me.
The bike!
Bastard!
He doesn't have a chance.
The archway!
Don't shoot him!
VETERAN
It's my only choice.
I can't sleep at my place or anywhere else.
- But you have no money. - It's not a problem.
- I'll pay you later. - Forget it.
Please, only for tonight.
Thanks.
My name is Nadia Kalanski.
I was Jean Saporta's mistress.
I tried to kill myself yesterday,
but he stopped me.
That bastard said I couldn't die without his permission.
But I want to die.
I hate him. He's going to take me out.
Jean Saporta is the homicide department's police chief.
Nobody knows that for eight years now,
he's been at the head of a prostitution network
operating between Africa and Europe.
He trades Women for drugs.
I've been locked up in a house for three months.
Stop it, will you?
Did you want to end up like Nadia?
Another one, please.
The West Indian's network covers the Paris area...
where most Black girls in the Avenue Foch district work for him.
The girls at the park work for him too.
...covers the Paris area...
where most Black girls in the Avenue Foch district work for him.
We'll take care of him in the parking lot.
Move away, you drunk!
Are you doing it on purpose? You sorry bastard!
This is unbelievable!
Some guy over there was all over me.
Thank you.
The guys I saw at Saint-Lazare.
They want the tape.
Where are you?
Don't move, okay?
They'll kill me. It's the guys from Saint-Lazare.
Hurry up! I'm going to pass out!
Don't worry. Alba wants to talk to you.
Hi, Super Jules.
Are you freaking out?
What? I told you not to go out.
Let me tell you a story.
Imagine We're driving to the sea side.
We're in a convertible
and We're Wearing long, long scarves.
We're going really fast
because there is no speed limit.
By the sea side, there are lots of cabins
with doors painted in all kinds of colors.
There are pine trees and rocks
as round as butt cheeks!
The ocean has gone
but we can still see
a White sail boat-
a mirage, though.
We can hear its bell
letting people know it's time for lunch.
The beach is suddenly empty
and so, you see,
we take our swimsuits out of our bags,
but we decide not to Wear them
and so we go naked
on the deserted beach.
The ocean suddenly comes back, even bluer than it was.
We're naked and you take my hand
to go swimming.
But We're scared
because of a big blue Wave.
Alba? Get the bag ready and come out through the back door.
Wait for us around the corner.
How about a tip?
Scum.
My name is Nadia Kalanski.
I was Jean Saporta's mistress.
Jean Saporta is the homicide department's police chief.
Nobody knows that for eight years now,
he's been at the head of a prostitution network
operating between Africa and Europe.
The Parisian network is headed by the West Indian, a real bastard.
Nobody knows his real name.
Alba, you take the wheel and I'll take care of Jules.
Hand me the kit.
The recording...
the recording- you tried to double-cross me.
I have better things to do.
Look at this.
It's your recording.
- Let's go, Alba. - Where are we going?
To the haunted castle.
Let's play the rest of the tape.
When I was a kid, people said witches lived in fire.
It's not just a kid thing.
We have to help Jules.
I'm going to run away and your men will catch me.
I know you've told them to get rid of me,
but you'll be punished by death for that.
This time, I'll pick the time and place to die.
There'll be witnesses and evidence.
You'll be sentenced to death!
Where are we?
In a castle.
What castle?
The castle where the Witch makes red poison apples
for that toothpaste commercial- "the toothpaste of stars."
- Does it belong to Gorodish? - I don't know.
What does it matter? It's real.
Am I in your way?
It's my favorite view.
Where's my recording?
Come check out the ocean.
I'm not asking for much. I want to talk to the West Indian,
- No way. - Never mind.
Man, you've landed in the shit!
So you have a tape for sale?
I do, but the buyer's gotta be your boss.
Too dangerous.
For you.
- I don't like your face! - The customer's always right.
Did you get our deposit, Mr. Gorodish?
Yes, I see you've dropped by.
So what do you say?
I can't believe it.
- Who's this guy? - Nobody knows him.
He doesn't kid around.
I'll get him, faster than he thinks.
Right now, the priority is to get the tape back.
Then...
you can erase the postman.
He's too dangerous.
- He'll be more receptive. - We don't know where he is.
And his delivery guy friend didn't know anything, believe me.
We'll find him.
I have an idea where he might reappear.
I'll pass him on to you as soon as I get him
and you'll take him to his studio.
The place will have been cleaned up and you'll leave this with him.
The police are looking for something like this,
except with my version of things.
They need to find something. This is making too much noise.
So let's throw them a bone.
That's what they'll find.
I don't like this.
Hello, Chief Saporta.
The key's in the ignition, so you can start the car.
You are driving a 11 horsepower Citroen.
Historically,
front-wheel drives are popular with the police,
but also with gangsters.
I thought it'd be perfect for you.
I hope you appreciate my thoughtfulness.
You are now on cruise control.
Our West Indian friend has given you my instructions,
so enjoy the ride.
Here we are.
Before you come out of the car,
one last detail:
leave the keys in the ignition.
Thank you.
Please come in, chief.
Yes, I'm giving the orders.
Keep going and make a right.
Make a right, chief. That's it.
Go up the stairs.
Make a left.
Keep going.
Mind the hole in the floor!
Come into the light.
You are magnificent, chief.
Truly magnificent.
Go straight ahead. Straight ahead.
Good.
A few more steps.
Here we are.
Don't you worry, chief.
They're only friends.
Approach the table.
Hurry, chief.
When you hear this, Jean, I'll be far away...
killed by you.
What I just said may not be enough to get you killed...
I'm going to run away and your men will catch me.
I know you've told them to get rid of me,
but you'll be punished by death for that.
This time, I'll pick the time and place to die.
There'll be witnesses and evidence.
You'll be sentenced to death!
You can't hurt me now.
Chief?
Since our deal is based on mutual trust,
I would greatly appreciate it if you could honor one last formality.
Please empty your pockets.
Place your jacket on the hanger You'll be more comfortable.
Take the device out of the red box.
It's a metal detector.
I won't insult you by explaining how to use it.
Don't forget your shoes.
Accidents happen fast.
All you need to do now is leave your briefcase next to the pillar...
left of the staircase.
Open it.
Very good.
Now you can go back to the table. Thanks.
Aren't you going to listen to the rest of the tape?
For that price, can I have the case?
All statements need to be signed...
even on tapes.
There's the signature.
Sucker.
I've already taken care of the tape.
Do you really think I'll pay for a mere recording?
"Everything is on the tape." What a bitch!
She would have made me go down with that.
She let them clip her just to get back at me.
That was the signature.
I'm such a romantic. That'll teach me!
You know, chief
I don't get involved in family business.
Don't move! Give me the recording!
We thought we had a deal We warned you.
- This way. - I was expecting you.
I was about to leave.
Consider yourself lucky. You've been paid.
I'm very lucky indeed.
Are you happy with how things went?
Where are you?
No, he left with the recording
- to give it back to his diva. - Where did he go?
That poor bastards going to get killed.
Here you are.
25 francs, please.
Don't you move.
Get lost. Get lost.
Don't move! Let's go.
Do you really want to leave after the recital?
Leave them.
Saporta?
We're on our way.
Pick up, will you?
Wait.
No.
Sure.
What, now?
I'll be right there.
Here we go again.
- I have to write a report. - What report?
- There's nothing to report. - Saporta wants me to, right now.
- You'll tell me how it ends - Great!
- So I'm supposed to stay here? - You've got plenty of food.
Bye, sweetie.
I'm taking the car. Ciao!
Male chauvinist pig!
I don't know anything at all!
- Fuck! - Shut the fuck up!
- Garages are grand. - I don't like elevators.
You don't like much, do you?
Easy, boy. We're almost there.
Come on.
Move it, quick!
Come on, quick! Quick!
Hold on.
Come this way.
Priest?
Send back the elevator.
Everything's fine.
There you go.
Stay calm.
Pick it up.
Pick it up!
We've had enough. It's yours now.
Okay? Pick it up.
Go on, pick it up.
Put it in the cassette player.
Come on.
There you go.
See...
no hard feelings.
Everything's back to order.
"Order"...
is essential.
Order.
I don't know anything!
We don't know anything either.
Jump.
Go on, boy.
Jump.
Is the chain in your way?
The chain's in his way.
Help him, Priest.
We were better jumpers at his age.
Don't you move!
I'm going to pass out!
Take care of the kid. Give me that.
Go sit down over there.
Good cleaning up.
My name is Nadia Kalanski.
I am the West Indian's mistress.
- He wants to kill me. - It's not the West Indian.
The West Indian is at the head of a prostitution network.
He trades girls for drugs-
The tape...Saporta. It's Saporta.
That's correct.
Thanks, Paula. Good job.
It's a miracle.
And some women find police work dull!
It's the only recording.
- So it was you? - It's yours now.
My gift to you.
I'm sorry.
Listen.