Comme un boomerang Page #2

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Minimum 20 years.

What time is it?

Time for you to sleep.

Get some rest.

You have to see the judge today.

Don't worry, it's on my mind.

Sleep.

Here, your letter.

Is it your girlfriend

who writes every day?

Mr Batkin...

Did you teach your son

the necessary respect for justice?

I'm a businessman, your Honour.

Not a judge.

Your profitable business affairs

lead us to suppose

you know how to play the system.

Is success a crime?

No, but nor is it a virtue.

It is certainly not a protection.

This isn't about me, but my son.

He's seventeen.

Mr Batkin,

when we sentenced

a 1 7-year-old killer to death,

the prosecution only requested

life in prison.

The jury wanted the death penalty.

We saw it as a reflection

of public opinion.

People are sick of violence.

They're afraid.

But we forgot one thing.

The boy was from a poor background.

Unlike your son.

I don't see the connection.

Yet there is one.

Killers must all be judged alike,

whatever their fathers' wealth.

My son's not a killer.

It was bad luck.

Bad luck for a lucky child.

You can explain all this

to the civil party...

the police officer's orphans

and the widow Grimaldi.

Mrs Grimaldi...

Yes, why?

I'd like to talk to you.

Is it about the case?

You're not a journalist!

It was very hard for me

to come here.

May I come in?

I'm Eddy Batkin's father.

A father who deplores

his son's actions,

and wants you to know

that he shares your grief.

Thank you.

I wish I could heal your pain.

I understand.

Sadly, that's not possible.

My son deeply regrets what he did.

His action was terrible,

but not deliberate.

Please sit down.

Listen,

if there's anything you need,

you can count on me.

No, sir.

But thank you.

Thank you for seeing me.

It was unhoped for.

Goodbye, ma'am.

And?

She's a good woman.

I think she'll help us.

It's so important for Eddy,

I can barely let myself hope.

We have to.

I think she'll see us again.

Meeting her made me realize

the harm Eddy has done.

I'll be back once I've seen him.

Are you sleeping, at least?

I hear the clock chime every hour.

There's a church nearby.

I can't believe what I did.

It's time.

Write to Muriel, she'd like that.

Are you going away?

Who was your visitor?

My father.

The Pole is your father?

Yes, he's of Polish origin.

We called him the Polack.

- You know him?

- You bet!

We were inside together.

You were in jail with my father?

That shocks you?

We even tried to escape.

The prison was in Luxembourg.

We put laxatives in our e yes

to get sent to hospital.

He can't have forgotten.

He finally got out by playing crazy.

Antoine Reynac, mention my name.

He was a gangster then.

Don't worry, he'll get you out.

A gangster? My father?

Good thing for you!

It means he has experience.

I have some guards in my pocket.

They'll help you out.

Reynac !

You have the Italians at 11.

The Italians?

I can find an excuse...

No, send them in.

Hello, how are you?

Mr VauInet, from the Paris bar.

Mr and Mrs Batkin.

Hello, sir.

Mr VauInet will come

for all the hearings.

That's good news.

Mrs Grimaldi accepted money

for her son's medical studies.

We have prepared

her letter of withdrawal.

''I the undersigned,

Mrs Grimaldi, declare

that despite my loss,

I do not wish for idle vengeance.

I choose to withdraw

my formal complaint,

and in memory of my husband,

a good man,

I plead the court

to show indulgence

to a 1 7-year-old killer,

who acted without hatred

or premeditation

in a moment of madness.''

Hello, ma'am.

I was waiting for you.

Me too!

Here !

Take your money.

I don't understand.

Read this and you will.

I thought you sincere,

but you're just a family of felons!

Like father, like son!

If you come back,

I'll call the police.

FATHER OF EDD Y B.

A FORMER GANGSTER

''He clearly didn't raise his son

to respect the law and the police.

This no longer seems surprising,

given Jacques Batkin's past.

A past he thought buried forever

thanks to both time and fortune...''

The latest edition's interesting.

Well?

The dirt hit one day too soon.

The widow read it

and threw it in my face.

I knew it would come out.

I just needed a few more hours!

They have to sell papers.

- Jacques paid his debt to society.

- Of course.

I know that. Wasn't I his lawyer?

But when it comes

to paying your debt,

people always want interest.

How will it impact the case?

Not well.

The father a former gangster,

the son a murderer...

For the media, it's a godsend!

It'll help the prosecution, too.

We have to intervene.

This campaign must stop!

We have friends.

We had friends.

I read the papers.

Reynac told me everything.

What you did together,

everything you pulled...

How you got out by feigning madness,

fooling the doctors

and psychiatrists.

You were a gangster.

For real.

A top guy, Reynac says.

Now people know I'm your son,

I get respect in here.

I even get privileges.

Are you proud of me?

Yes.

Very.

Listen, Eddy...

it took me 20 years

to dig myself out of that hole.

To forget, to build a new life.

For over ten years,

I fought my way back, alone.

Without telling anyone.

Keeping my past to myself.

I saw that past.

I saw Jire Batkin,

a Polish immigrant miner,

who died in the mine.

I looked at his son,

Jacques Batkin,

to see if he'd become

a more normal man.

A bit less stupid,

hounded and unhappy.

For years, I was that beast.

Until the day I decided to get out.

To win more

than a reputation as a gangster.

I knew where the real power lay,

and I wanted it,

in return for my father's misery.

You know why?

For you.

Eddy Batkin.

So you could be proud

to have my name...

elsewhere than in prison,

with people other

than hoods, murderers,

and petty crooks.

I won it for you.

I never had anything.

I wanted to give you everything.

I won't let you throw that away.

Let a little fool who killed a cop...

Stop.

...be proud that his dad

knew a guy like Reynac?

I wanted your hands to be clean

in place of my own.

Even in here,

don't forget that.

If you're capable.

Goodbye.

It'll be ready at dawn.

It's going to Spain.

Can I have a coffee?

Sure, boss.

Thanks.

We don't believe all they're saying.

Yet it's true.

Makes no difference.

Thank you.

For the coffee and the rest.

Hello, sir.

I'm sorry,

I didn't know you were here.

That's fine.

What's new around here?

The board of directors is meeting.

Without me...

Florence,

tell me what I should do.

About what, sir?

The current business, of course.

Bring me the files.

Here, send this by fast mail.

It's for my son.

Very well.

Thank you.

If I stay in the police,

she'll divorce me.

She gave me the choice.

She thinks unemployment

isn't high enough already?

Think carefully, because...

Am I disturbing you?

I heard you were regulars here.

Have a seat.

A coffee, please.

I don't agree with the press,

if that's why you're here.

No, it's not about that.

I see.

You're still fighting for the kid.

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