Arretez-moi (2013) Script

There's a lot I could say, but what good would it do?

It's good to see you.

You had to know.

Who I am, and who I'm not.


Yeah?

Come in, Joliveau.

Hello.

Is something wrong? It's dark in here.

I leave the lights off when I'm on the night shift.

So as not to attract people.

I don't want the passers-by to say:

"Hey, the police station's open, let's drop in!"

Well?

A few years ago, the police investigated my husband's death.

They said it was suicide.

But it wasn't.

It was me. I pushed him off the eighth floor.

You're saying the police got it wrong?


They let you out, already?

Still wearing your uniform? You look like trash.

I'm going back to work, so I didn't get changed.

I made coffee. You want some?

No-one here? No, no-one.

You never know. When the cat's away...

Did you take my money? Where did you put it?

Coffee? Where did you hide it?

Show me, or I'll break your face.

Where's your bag?

You know, Jimmy, I'm glad you're back, but... what with the debts, the rent, Cédric's school... since you were fired, I can't afford it.

Look, give me a break, will you?

Just give me my money.

Where the fuck is it?

Give it to me, or I'll kill myself.

He didn't even care that he crushed my flowers.

Coffee.

Want some?

Here, have some coffee.

Fuck your coffee.

My uniform... you've stained my uniform.

What will they think of me?

Give me the money, or I'll jump! You want to jump?

Then jump!

I pushed his legs, and felt the fabric on my palms.

Then I saw my husband, falling through thin air.

He looked surprised, more than anything.

You know, he hit me a lot, but this time... for a few drops of coffee...

It was my Post Office uniform.

My husband's fallen out of the window.

He fell out of the window!

What happened?

I didn't see, I was in the kitchen.

When I came out, the window was open, and he was gone.

He'd just come home. He hadn't even taken his coat off.

It's still warm.

There's coffee on the floor, and on you.

Did you fight? No.

No, but when I realised, I must have moved suddenly.

I must have lost control.

Do you know where he had been?

Yes.

At the psychiatric hospital, because... yesterday, he attempted suicide.

Really?

I called the ambulance when I came home from work.

Shut the door and take a seat.

First name, family name...

I can fill that stuff in later.

Did he often beat you?

Goofy? Goofy?

Over here.

It's for you.

Sometimes he would call me to apologise... and say he'd stop.

Yes, I know, I know. No, no.

Other times, he went at it so hard that he called to make sure I was still conscious.

And no-one at the Post Office noticed?

Oh, no. It became a joke. They called me Goofy.

Because I kept slipping up.

I spent eight years tripping over, knocking into tables... eight years of pretending.

I did it on purpose, so they'd believe me the next time.

So that's the motive.

Is that the motive?

You just confessed to a murder. We need a motive.

No-one kills for the sake of it. He was beating you.

Look, I can't just put: "I killed my husband. Case closed."

We need context, confessions, circumstances.

Otherwise, the judge won't believe us.

So, what was your husband like?

Let's go back to the start.

Before you pushed him, before the death.

You come to us, because he's violent.

I'm supposed to ask you questions like these.

"Is the victim vulnerable, pregnant, disabled, sick, or other?"

Other. Other, how?

Other.

"Verbal violence.

"Insults, blackmail, death threats..."

All of them.

"It happens once a day, once a week, once a month..."

It depends. I know it's not exactly scheduled.

Just, on average.

Even when it doesn't happen, you're scared that it will.

So I'd say "All the time".

"Incidents occur in private, in front of children, in public..."

Will you shut up?

Jimmy, wait.

Are you okay?

What a prick.

You'd rather stay there and have fun?

Run along, then.

Did you spend the night outside?

No neighbour, no parents?

I was ashamed. I didn't want people to know.

"Psychological violence.

"Contemptuous behaviour or remarks, "belittling my opinions, values or self."

All of them.

"Physical violence: assaulted by hand, or with a weapon."

No, no weapons.

"Were children present? Were they also treated violently?"

All of it, but he never touched his son.

He had him wrapped around his little finger.

Men are good at that.

I've known that since I was little.

No-one understands me, except you. I'm glad I've got you.

Sure! Can't I talk to my daughter?

Fine, go, then! It makes no difference.

I'd rather be deaf than listen to that!

What's wrong with you? Slamming doors...

No, Jimmy...

Don't humiliate me in front of my son.

I came home alone the other night.

How am I supposed to explain where you are?

And you slam the door in my face when I'm talking to you?

Stop it, Jimmy...


He was trying to kill me.

I'll never forget that.

I couldn't breathe.

I just kept thinking:

"What clue can I leave so the police know how I died?"

Sexual violence?

Sexual violence...

Did he... you know? I don't have to spell it out.

Perhaps with other men... I don't know.

I don't like to say...

But anyway, we weren't doing anything.

You stopped sleeping together? That's rare.

Usually, violent men also rape their wives.

I wouldn't call it rape.

He forced me a little, but it wasn't rape.

What's the difference?

I don't know. Rape is when you don't want to.

It's not that I did, or didn't want to.

That was irrelevant.

I didn't want to, but he had sexual desires, as they say...

And... So, basically, he raped you?

Look, I know what the law says about rape.

So give me a break, and stop acting like a martyr.

I'm telling you, he raped you.

It's possible...

No, it's not possible, it's certain.

You're starting to piss me off.

Why did you marry such a moron?


Give me another, Juliette.

Do you dance rock, Mademoiselle?

Sorry, I'm already taken. Do me a favour!


Ready for the farandole?

Here we go!

That guy was a good dancer.

I'll introduce you. No!

He's a metalworker.

Come on! Forget about Michel.

Make the most of life. Move on.

You don't want to end up a spinster!

Jimmy!

Let me introduce you to someone.

She likes your dancing. Who?

Hello.

You want to dance?


His mother didn't want me to marry him.

She knew him too well.

Fetch the cookies, Jimmy.

There's no need to get married right away.

Why the rush?

You should get to know each other.

You know, my dear... men... they aren't all perfect.

You should take the time to find out... if you can put up with yours.

That was the first time he was violent.

I can't remember why. But it happened.

What do you want from me?

I want you to arrest me.

Why do you want that?

I feel guilty.

If you've waited years, as you claim you have, why come here tonight, and tell me?

Why not yesterday, or tomorrow? You could come back tomorrow.

My colleague loves this stuff. He's a genius at crosswords.

Ask for Macheboeuf. He'll be at this desk from 8 a.m.

No, tomorrow I can't.

You've got something better to do?

I came yesterday, at the same time.

Yesterday, it was Gatebois on duty.

That bastard! He told you to come back tonight?

No, I didn't even see him.

I couldn't say anything to the guy on reception.

I couldn't find the words.

So I left.

But tonight, it's okay.

It's okay?

Just my luck!

Why does this shit only happen when I'm on duty?

Okay, here we go.

Empty your pockets. Give me your coat.

That hallway leads to the cells. Better remember the route...

Sit down.

No point cracking your neck. There's more to come.

I'm not doing it to annoy you.

It just hurts so much... Look.

Sometimes they tense up completely, like now.

That's why I have to talk.

Because your hands are tense?

No, not just that...

At first, it was just the hands. The day after I pushed him.

Then it reached my wrists.

It felt like my bones were fusing together.

Then my elbows. I couldn't pick up packages properly.

Then it reached the shoulders, and I had to stop work.

Then, in July, when my son went to holiday camp, I went to the Mental Health Centre. It's free.

You'll be comfortable, here. You even have your own TV.

Am I a prisoner? No, you're free to go.

They're all like that, here. So no-one can get into your room.

No pathologies. She's just very upset.

Hello. Have a seat.

You like to draw? I'll show you how to make pictures with sand.

We talked a lot, and the sedatives were working a little.

Daytimes were fine, but at night...

I could barely move.

Even now, I can't sleep, my eyes are wide open.

I lie comatose, dazed by 30 drops of Theralene.


Who filmed this?

My son. Is your son sick?

Filming his mother during the night...

It's a strange idea. He has plenty of those.

Cédric?

Mummy's home.

It was the third anniversary of Jimmy's death, and there were three photos.

Do you understand what will happen to you, now?

Yes.

When you pushed your husband, he fell back horizontally.

He must have realised he wasn't coming back.

And, since there is an indisputable natural law that what goes up, must come down, he started to fall.

Eighth floor, seventh floor...

There was no point fighting it.

You could have shouted: "I'm sorry, sweetheart, come back!"

But it wouldn't do any good.

There's no stopping it, once it's started.

So...

I'm asking you again, Madame, do you really understand what's going to happen to you, now?

I'm going to lock you up, and once I start to write a letter, the case is open, and there's no going back.

Yes.

And your son? What about him?

With no dad and a mother in prison?

Because it's his life you're giving up, too.

Did you ever consider that?

Yes.

'Night. See you tomorrow.

Get lost.

This is ridiculous.

You had a bad husband, and one day you pushed him.

Sure, we can't all go around doing that, but nobody saw you, the police believed you.

For fuck's sake, you committed the perfect crime.

Congratulations. Now move along.

Get out!

Punch, punch!

Yes, excellent!

That's right.

Hey! Who do you think I am?

It's me. Stop it.

It's over, it's over. This is the police.

It's me. It's over.

Okay, Lieutenant?

Get lost, Joliveau. Go!

It's over.

Can I let go?

Okay?

Yeah.

You shouldn't have come to see me.

Waiting any longer would have killed me.

My head hurts.


Oh, no. We're not starting that again.

I told you, go home.

Do you like being a postwoman?

Yeah.

You see people.

Colleagues, clients...

I have colleagues and clients. That doesn't mean I like my job.

Maybe I should have been a postwoman.

Don't you think?

Why do you like it?

For example... there was Grandma Gardie.

She had the gift.

It eased the pain.

When I was off work, she refused to take her mail.

When I came back, the sack was so heavy!

People invited me into their homes.

Some didn't even have a letter box, to make sure...

I'm not trying to brag, but... they said they enjoyed seeing me.

So I would do people favours.

When the grocery van driver was on holiday, I helped him out.

Okay. I put it all in the fridge.

Thank you. What do I owe you?

35 euros, exactly.

Help yourself.

I don't understand these Euros.

I'm taking 20, 30... and the five.

I'll put the wallet in your pocket. See you soon.

My pay wasn't enough to live on, so I stole money from him.

I told myself I wouldn't go back, but you know... he was 81, and only had a bike.

I couldn't let him go shopping on a bike.

Well, he'll have to, now!

If you go to prison, that is.

I'm not sure you really enjoyed your job.

Otherwise, why would you want to get locked up?

That's not true.

You want me to show you?

Here. A family was moving away.

They sent me a letter. It was so nice, I kept it.

You'll see.

"For friendship."

Once upon a time in Fort-Mardyck A yellow van drove ever so quick With a kind, pretty woman behind the wheel We loved the way she delivered our mail She would always arrive promptly And we would welcome her fondly She listened to our hopes and fears Life was good when she was near

"Thanks to our postwoman." The whole family signed it.

Look, if you don't believe me.

If people are willing to write daft poetry for you, then you shouldn't waste your talents.

You still have work to do.

And Grandma Gardie?

What will happen to her?

Ever think about that? She's dead.

People still receive mail after they die, so we return it to the sender.

But it hurts, every time.

Sorry, I'm making a fool of myself.

You must think I'm stupid.

Not at all. I confront death every day, in my job.

What would you expect? I'm just like you.

The problem with death is the smell.

For four, five days, it's okay.

But by day ten, it's unbearable.

You need a mask.

One day, the officers couldn't even go upstairs, it was so...

I went into the apartment.

The guy was sitting in a chair, in his underwear.

On the paperwork I wrote: "African male."

When I found his I.D. card I couldn't understand.

The guy was a white European.

He had changed.

His skin had turned black. Black!

Experiences like that... they stick in your head.

You lose the will to go on... then it passes.

It will pass, for you, too.

No, I don't think so.

You realise what this could mean?

Eight years, minimum.

But if you get a crooked judge, who sees how long you took to confess, he'll throw the book at you, and you'll get 20 years.

Yeah.

This is a murder.

Can't you see that?

Why not serve your sentence later, if you insist?

But for now, don't you think you deserve to live a little?

Don't get carried away.

Take your time. Think about it.

But I'm a criminal!

There you go, again.

A criminal? On Monday I saw a baby that had been roasted on a stove.

By its own mother.

When Forensics arrived, they had to scrape it off with a spatula.

I saw that.

On Wednesday, a little girl.

Her parents made her drink, then kicked her about like a football.

From one end of the hall to the other.

The autopsy showed the girl had been drinking whisky.

So... when you compare those kids, and what you did to your husband, they're hardly the same, are they?

Did you ever file a complaint?

Are there any records?

The bathroom light is on.

I told you to switch it off.

You never learn.

Always wasting things.

You think you're a princess?

Cédric, come here, darling.

So, what do you have to tell me?

I regret it. It's not a solution.

Even if he drove me to it...

But it's true, you can't always be a pushover.

It builds up, and eventually it has to come out.

It's not about being a pushover.

There's a difference between that, and taking a knife.

People end up in court because they took a knife, and killed someone without meaning to.

It happens more than you'd think.

But you must realise how much you overreacted.

I'll let it pass, this time.

But there'll be a record.

Listen, you have to bury all these secrets.

You didn't make him climb on top of the fridge.

If he hadn't climbed up there, he wouldn't have fallen.

You were alone, but now, we both know your secret.

It will ease the burden, you'll see.

Go home.

You have no idea.

Coming here with your case, as if you were going on holiday.

What's in there? Pyjamas, a teddy bear?

Sand. Sand?

You brought a case full of sand to the police station?

Well, I'll de damned!

It's good to see you.

I told the other man: "It's not for me.

"I can't take any mail if it's not for me."

I missed you, too.

Here, look.

For me?

That's a nice picture. What is it?

It's Perlette. Drawn with sand. A cat?

No, like this.

Oh, yes!

Yes, I can see it's Perlette.

Where do you find all this coloured sand?

I buy it like that.

I have to find people who travel, to bring back natural sand.

Look, all-natural sand.

In Siouville and Port-Bail, it's all the same colour.

Siouville sand is slightly finer, but I have to buy it from all over, for the colours.

Cats are tricky. It's hard to draw their outline, because of the fur.

It's not easy, drawing with sand.

So I tried sprinkling sand, to make a softer outline, but it didn't work.

If you have any ideas, let me know.

Let you know what? How to draw cats with sand.

Are you taking the piss?

After all this, you want tips on drawing cats with sand?

I just don't get why you're so determined to ruin your life.

Is it a religious thing?

You don't believe in God?

I believe that when a loved one dies, they watch over you.

Really?

You think that's stupid? Not at all.

I believe that Mum is out there, helping me.

She sends me little signs.

Sometimes, a moth comes to visit me.

Even though it's daytime.

And the fact I'm talking to you, and not one of your colleagues.

She guided me here.

I know it.

Mum wants to give me a chance, and you're it, Madame.

Do you really think you can take your little jars into jail?

If not, too bad.

You don't know prison. Yes, I do.

I was in the Mental Health Centre.

They even took me to see the cells at the gendarmerie.

The cells of the village gendarmerie?

Was there straw on the ground? Did it smell nice?

Madame, let me show you the cells we have here.

Here, come with me.

We have one for women, one for men.

Each as horrid as the other. Let's give you a little taster.

We put the crazies in here.

They brought eight of them in.

We don't know what they're charged with.

They bang their heads against the wall, and then press charges.

When you put someone in custody, they're your responsibility.

Any problems, it's your neck.

So?

We came up with this. You'll get one, too.

You're allowed to do that? No.

But that's prison for you.

A constant compromise between the law, and reality.

They look like insects!

Prison... that's not a life.

Life is outside. Not here.

Think about it. I've been thinking for years.

Then think some more. Get some air, go for a drink.

It's nearly ten o'clock.

The bar will still be open.

Do me a favour. Think about it for one more hour.

If you still want to come back, you can.

You're so tense. Come on, relax.

I don't know your name or address, and I don't want to.

Here, take these and have a drink.

No, I can't take those.

Whoever gave you them would be furious.

Was it your husband? Sure. Go on.

No, he wouldn't be happy if he found out.

Don't worry, he's always happy, since he left me.

Go on, get out.


Keep your head down.

You want people to look at you?

What are you looking for?

With your nose in the air, like that?

What are you looking for?


Look, you don't speak a word of English. Get lost.

Don't talk to me like that, Cédric.

Get the fuck out, I said!


Madame. I'm not going anywhere.

Okay, Joliveau.

Want one? No, thanks.

Turn your computer on. Tomorrow will be too late.

Why?

Jimmy died ten years ago, today.

As of tomorrow, I can't be found guilty.

We still have until midnight. We have time.

How do you know it will lapse?

The gendarme told me, when we were visiting the cells.

Arrest me. Now.

There's no hurry. You're not the first in line.

You'll have to wait. I have 150 cases to deal with.

Everyone wants to be served first.

You should know, it takes two hours to buy a stamp at the Post Office.

You've waited ten years. Wait a little longer.

Anyway, I'm the only officer here.

You know I can't wait. Tough luck.

This isn't a village, where the gendarmes have time to chat.

I'm snowed under. You know what an investigation is?

It's a series of documents.

When you arrest someone, you have to write a charge sheet.

Describing how you arrested them, in what circumstances, with what authority...

Stop trying to stall. Arrest me, now!

Goofy, you're starting to piss me off.

I won't do it. Turn the computer on.

All in good time.

The police are understaffed.

So, wait. No.

I never wanted to arrest you.

But Desnos, I'd love to have cuffed him.

Really? What did he do to deserve such an honour?

He was a poet.

Desnos could write very... poetically.

But he could also write silly stories.

Things like:

The mothers of owls Like to check for fleas While the little owl chicks Sit tight on their knees It's a good way to teach language to children.

Is that Desnos? I know Desnos.

Cédric studied him in primary school.

He didn't want to learn it, but it went:

Sit tight on their knees In the tops of the trees And the owl chicks squeak From their sharp little beaks You think owls have knees? Oh, please!

That's crazy, that you know Desnos.

Well, I would have loved to put him in the cells.

Just so I could ask him how he decided that the mother owls should hold the chicks on their knees.

Because owls don't have knees.

It's such a strange idea...

You think you can trick me?

You really think I'm that stupid? You're just wasting time.

I can be smart, too. Smarter than you.

It's not hard. That's enough!

You think you can insult a police officer, like that?

If you were an officer you'd take my statement.

I'm guilty. Now arrest me! Give it a rest, will you?

We're all guilty of something.

But we can't all give ourselves up.

We've all committed crimes.

Those flowers I gave you. I stole them.

Yes, are you surprised?

The town where I live has the highest local taxes in the region, and I'm sick of it.

So I take their flowers.

Outside the bus station, opposite the church, there's a beautiful flowerbed.

That isn't the same as pushing your husband from a window.

But wait, that's not all. It gets worse.

Sometimes, telling the truth is a very bad idea.

I had retaken my police entry exam for the third time, and we were waiting for the results to come in.

Now, this is Lisieux we're talking about.

Full of nuns, teetotal pilgrims... and suddenly a fight breaks out.

They were lying outside, on the ground. the guy was kneeling on my friend, beating him up.

Then, just like you, I don't know what came over me.

I thought: "I just killed a man."

The day before the results of the police entrance exam, I killed a guy.

You killed someone?

Yes, you're not the only one.

If I had reported it, I wouldn't be here trying to save you.

To do a good deed, you must sometimes start with an evil one.

No, it's not the same for me.

You defended someone. It's almost self-defense.

You too, it's almost self-defense.

Wait, I'm not done.

5 years ago, I led an investigation in a housing project.

I was nailing the Janitor. Nailing?

You mean, you arrested him, or...

I mean "or".

You think my husband left me because I was a bad cook?

He was tough. The janitor, not my husband.

Around six, I'd go and have a drink at his place, eat a few peanuts, and...

You're not saying anything?

What do you want me to say?

I don't know. We never talk.

It seems as if you only come to...

It's true it's my main reason for coming.

You never ask any question about me and my life.

I wouldn't want to feel like I'm working.

Where are you from?

Audincourt, in the east. The Doubs region.

You?

I didn't move like you: I'm from Lisieux.

Lisieux? Never tell me about Lisieux.

The only time I went there, a guy shot me in the head.

I was in a coma for 15 days.

I'll ask you a question: do you think, if I use your method, I should have told him:

"Funny, but the guy who blew your head off was a chick.

"It was me."

Honestly, as in your case, wouldn't it have been stupid to report myself?

Yes or no?

Answer me.

Answer me. I'm from the police.

I'm not surprised.

I don't know how you can even be in the police.

You don't respect anything.

You cheat on your husband, steal flowers.

In what do you believe?!

What do you believe?!

Who is this?

Miss World?

A Holy Virgin forecasting the weather.

If her dress is pink, it'll be sunny.

Tomorrow, the weather will be crappy.

You pray? Yes.

If I know there's a very dangerous guy to arrest, I say 'Hail Mary.'

When I'm done, I tell my colleagues: "we can do it now."

You pray, and things go the way you want?

Yes.

What does the prayer say?

You don't know? I wasn't taught religion.

Mom was a believer, but dad was a communist.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

And?

The Lord is with thee;

blessed art thou amongst women...

Shit!

Blessed art thou amongst women...

I'm not used to praying in front of people sitting in your chair.

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners...

Then I go all the way to "Amen."

It's reassuring, as if I had a bullet-proof jacket.

Arrest me now, please.

That's not how things work.

A mere prayer is not enough to do whatever you want.

It takes time.

You have to believe for a long time.

You must understand the signs.

Once, I was supposed to arrest a guy I didn't know.

In the morning, I take the cases as they come.

Sometimes, they're not even mine.

I only had the address. He lived at the place of a Miss Geoffroy.

Let's go.

Why? That's the way it is.

I'll give Mageboeuf the case. Let's go.

I couldn't say we were leaving because of the number on the door: the three 6, 666.

The Antichrist is 666, you know.

So I thought: "I just prayed to Mary.

"And I find the numbers of the Devil.

"It's a sign. Mary's telling me not to go."

So I decided not to enter the place.

But listen well: when I came back, I looked at the name of the guy.

I hadn't looked into the details since we had to arrest him.

I opened the file.

Do you know what his name was?

Pope.

Pope.

Pope!

The Holy Virgin didn't want me to arrest the pope.

I'm not sure she wants me to arrest you.

And yet it'll have to be done.

Looking at my ring?

No. I saw you.

It's the canine of a dealer from Dunkerque.

During an arrest, he jumped on me teeth first to tear my face off.

That idiot had scurvy.

At the police station, Gadebois told me there was a tooth which had grown on my chin.

I still have the scar.

I had the canine put on a ring.

There is less than one hour left.

Stop believing I'll let you steal it.

You want some?

No, I don't drink holy water.

I ask the offenders for their recipes when I interrogate them.

"What do you take? Tell me.

"Amphetamines, pills and Schweppes?

"What kind of pills?

"Steroids for bulls?

"How do you call your little mix?

"Earthquake?"

We need that to make it in the police.

When things are quiet, I can sleep.

But as soon as something happens, it's too much.

I'm too old.

Enough.

Arrest me.

Then, two seconds later, I have a headache.

I won't leave it to you.

Don't run.


Things are going well?

You're really a nice guy.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women.

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou among women.

Let her arrest me.

Let me be found guilty because I was a victim.

Let her arrest me.

Let me be found guilty because I was a victim.

Let her arrest me.


Are you okay, Lieutenant?

Lieutenant?


Arrest me.

I wasn't asleep.

I was praying.

I did as you told me to do.

I asked to go to prison and that Cedric stops being mean to me.

He's mean?

That's his father's side.

Cedric, we're going to eat soon.

The pictures of the sideboard.

That picture of Jimmy's ID wouldn't leave me alone.

In the end, it was like torture.

He also hid some in my colored vials.

I even found some in my undies.

In the end, I wouldn't dare to touch anything because I was scared of seeing the ghost of the man I killed.

Two days ago, I was going home after a waitressing job.

I do it to earn some extra money.

My customers recommend me for receptions and communions.

Ced, it's me. I'm home.

Ced?


It hurts to be a failure as a mother.

It was too much.

I turned myself in that very evening.

Since I couldn't talk, I came back tonight.

In front of the mailboxes, I wonder what would happen to my mail.


At the police school, we're taught this area is crime-free.

Here, we encourage people to commit suicide.

Now it's your turn "to be suicided" by your child.

He'll also die from it.

I won't arrest you.

You have something there.

Wait, you're all dirty.

Like this.

See, I was right.

He looks like an asshole.

I can't leave him on the floor like this.

Wait, I'll pick them up.

Freeze!

Freeze.

See? You can learn a lot of things in countryside police stations.

Type your password.

Don't do that. Not for me but for you.

If you kill a cop, you'll never see the sea again.

Type your password.

Like that.

You didn't expect this, did you?

The little abused mailwoman; she'll never fight back.

No way.

I got cured. Now I'm in charge.

Open the file, like you did before.

Like that. Now type in the date.

Type in the date.

I won't. Kill me or choose another police station.

What? I won't type.

What? Go away.

What? But...

I won't give you the pleasure.

Type.

Why won't you type what I'm telling you to?

Yes, I know!

You want to save me.

You want revenge for the abuse you got from your husband.

That's what I believe.

That's what I believe. Why are you saying that?

I don't get it. When people come out of a loony bin, they do half-assed psychology.

Why are you convinced of that?

Your flowers, over there.

Your husband gave them to you when he wanted to be forgiven.

At first, it's what Jimmy did.

You think we only have sympathy for what happened to us?

Screams, insults, denigrating someone,

being annoyed by what they say, ever so slightly, slamming the door, making the tires screech, slamming the brakes, slamming the door again, sitting with a sullen face, expressing one's discontent.

Still, you leave her enough time to answer.

When she answers...

You hurt mom. You're mean.

It's okay, Honey. I'll be fine.

Come here.

Come to mommy.

Type my name.

Type in my name.

Otherwise, I swear I'll shoot.

Then I'll still go to prison.

You know how Many Jimmies I've met?

Type in my name.

Never!

Type it in. My name is-

No!

Why are you doing this?!

Why are you-

You can't do this.

This computer is useless now. You're safe.

I don't know the passwords to the other computers.

We each have our own.

Put the gun down.

Put it down.

Right away.

Put it down.


Like that. Put it down.

Put it down.

You're nice, Joliveau.

I heard screams. What the hell is this mess?

She destroyed everything?

You want to play Scrabble? Are you game, Joliveau?

I know, I need two 'T's.

BATTERED Cops are not idiots.

But keyboards don't have two 'T's.

We'll change your room's wallpaper.

With Joliveau. Agreed, Joliveau?

How long will it take? One afternoon?

Then I'll scold your son.

I won't say anything.

But I'll be in charge now. You're in no condition to...

You're in no condition to continue.

Will you stop pestering me with your moral principles?

Yes or no?

Answer me.

Answer me. I'm from the police.

15 to midnight. I need to go to another police station.

Quickly!

Stay or I'll shoot you in the face, you bitch.

Attempt to run.

If you go out of this office, I'll shoot.

You want to discover prison? I'll give you that.

You may go, Joliveau.

Lieutenant... It's okay. Piss off.

You're nice but clingy.


Everybody, to the back!

I said, to the back! I'm here with a friend.

You wanted to go to prison? Here it is.

Camera two is broken. Really?

Where did you put her?

Not with the guys, right? Good night.

The papers, Lieutenant.

You have to file a custody order.

You didn't write her name in the register.

It's illegal. What's her name?

How should I know? What do you mean?

She was in your office for three hours.

I'll miss the last bus because of her.

What do I tell Mageboeuf when he arrives at eight?


What is that, Mary?


Are you okay?


Seven a.m. Crappy weather.

Mary predicted it.

Why are you here? It's your day off.

That's why I'm not here. Go get me the woman.

I don't know what you're doing, but I want no part in it.

Then do what I'm telling you before Mageboeuf arrives.

I feel bad. I want to apologize.

Is that good?

Are you happy?


Lieutenant.

Thanks, you're nice.

This is quite something.

I can already hear the commissioner and the guys' comments.

Joliveau removed your cuffs?

Good.

It's best.

Help yourself. I shake in the morning.

I won't offer you calva for the morning's thirst.

Since the law was voted, we no longer have alcohol.

Before that, the colleagues drank like in a bar.

It's over now.

They did that because of police blunders.

The media didn't talk about it the way they do now.

They're after us even if you shoot a tire.

Imagine what'd happen if drunk, you shot someone?

You might be fired.

They've become very strict.

If you drank, you'd better not shoot.

Let the car go.

Anyway, we all have our issues.

Enough about me. How was your night?

Yes, that's living in a cell.

Can you imagine doing that for 20 years?

Have you thought about it? Yes.

Good. I want to go to prison.


I'm not lucky.

Since I got her, I've never seen her in pink.

No miracle.

So, you want to go to prison.

On what ground?

I killed my husband. I pushed him through the window.

Really?

When did that happen?

Ten years one day ago.

Ten years and one day?

I'm no longer allowed to arrest you.

The article 7 of the penal code allows for a ten-year period from the day of the murder if in the meantime, no charges were pressed or no investigation was opened.

What do you mean? Are you kidding me?

I spent the night in prison. I thought I could...

I didn't start any procedure.

I didn't type anything in. No date.

Even your custody.

I didn't file anything in.

You should have seen Joliveau. How is that possible?

What kind of police officer are you?

Everything is a failure in my life.

My husband, my son.

Even my arrest is a failure.

This will never truly end.

Now I know I'm in it forever.

Who do you think you are?

Are you going to be okay?

Bye.

You really were... Thanks.

You are very good man. You're...

Nice, I know.


We could backdate.

The computer is broken.

If I write your statement by hand, I could use yesterday's date.


You didn't forget the handwritten procedure?

No, it's in my bag.

Not for the lady.

Sit next to the armrest.

The seats are slippery. You might fall.

Thanks.

Wait.

Wait, I...

I had prepared this for my grandma, but I know I won't be able to give it to her, so it's yours.

And also...

Here. You don't owe me anything.

I took it from your drawer.

If you have something against cat hair, tell me about it.

Good luck.

Be brave.

This doesn't happen every day.


You hurt mommy. You're mean.

Hail Mary, full of grace.

The Lord is with thee; blessed art thou amongst women...

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners.


You had to know.

Who I am and who I am not.

Turning myself in might look weird.

But I wanted everyone to know I did it.

You know now your father was not an almighty decision-maker.

Such things do not exist.

I froze him in his tracks.

I'm guilty. Got it?

I didn't only endure.

Put it in your head.

It's important for the rest of your life.

That's it.

I don't have much else to tell you.

I don't really want to talk to you.

I don't really want to love you either.

But you now know you also have a mother.

You can hate me.

But you can't ignore me anymore.

That's a great gift.

You'll see.