De Zaak Alzheimer (The Alzheimer Affair) Page #2

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Go see him and pick his brains.

We're dealing with something else, boss.

Bieke Cuypers?

The file you got on the quiet

from the Youth section?

Sorry, that case is closed for us.

Miss Cuypers? Brigitte?

Call me Bieke.

Are you a friend of my dad's?

Are you a friend of my dad's?

She's not even 13. I won't do it.

No, she just looks younger.

She's not even 13.

I won't do it.

You're a broken record.

She's a child. I won't do it.

If you think you can trick me...

you've got the wrong man!

One quick call to Marseilles!

You don't understand. Nobody will do it.

Forget it. We'll find someone else.

This is simply not on!

No? Give me one reason.

I'll give you three.

One!

Two!

And three!

Your pal Van Camp's safe. Understand?

Nutcase!

Hired yourself opera singers or what?

My client wants to see you.

Tomorrow, same place, same time.

And don't forget your safe.

Your wallet...

Mr. Seynaeve.

Van Camp has vanished into thin air.

Even his mistress has no idea.

We're checking passenger lists

at the airport.

On the run abroad? That's our lead?

Concrete stuff, or occupational therapy?

"Concrete stuff, or occupational therapy?"

There's our intellectual from the judiciary.

Major.

You want information on our files?

How about sending us...

an official document, you're good at that.

Sorry, we didn't know you could read.

To think I learned to shoot at the judiciary.

If you must learn to shoot...

how come you don't have a shooting range?

We don't have the Gendarmerie's budget.

No, 90% of your budget...

goes to paper.

If I've wasted too much paper...

come and get some of ours.

You'll have the night of your life.

Yeah, right.

The night of all nights in your entire career.

- Some other time.

- Come on, look.

Room 105. Perfect for a pretty girl like you.

Sir, you're bothering the young lady...

and disturbing me.

Who are you? Her pimp, perhaps?

How much do you want for your hot chick?

You wanted something hot?

- A gentleman?

- No.

A client.

Calm down, it was a dream.

Don't you recognize me?

Stay.

I'm sorry, stay.

I can hear your blood flowing.

It's my head emptying.

You're different, you.

You reckon?

I know so.

I have a weak spot for special men.

Two bullets in the chest, one in the head.

The work of a pro.

Bastards.

Bastards! Bastards!

And the other wounds?

Propellers cut her to bits.

Freddy, hurry and become a DCI...

so I don't have to do this anymore.

The kid was only 12 years old!

According to the investigation...

she was murdered.

We know who she is.

The name's Brigitte Cuypers, 12 years old...

from Merksem, recently implicated...

in a child prostitution case...

which claimed her father's life.

I spent the whole night here? Tell me!

I spent the whole night here?

Yes, where else?

You have to go.

Get dressed.

I don't get this.

- Go back!

- Your pills.

Go back! You have to go back!

Sh*t!

You were right, Gilles.

For guys like us...

there's no retirement.

Vincke!

We have a witness, a hotel patron.

Mr. Casoni...

- your passport.

- Thank you.

Hello. Vincke, Chief.

You can speak in Flemish, Chief.

The world is my oyster, sort of.

He knows the victim's identity.

Yes, I saw him get into his car, actually.

Poor guy.

His name is Ledda.

- Angelo Ledda.

- How do you spell that?

Like the swan, but with two "D's."

Greek mythology. Elementary.

So, you knew Mr. Ledda?

Yes, from the bar.

A nice guy.

Retired. A true Frenchman.

We found this under another car.

With a Visa card in Angelo Ledda's name.

Come and see this, guys!

I had this funny feeling. Not your day.

Baron, it's time.

Joseph will do it, thanks.

You're specialists, right?

Shrinks do more than stuff their patients

with sedatives, Gustave.

They talk to them, too.

Before or after the injection?

- Baron De Haeck.

- Yes, it's me.

Switch on the TV, Baron. Teletext.

BRT, page 101.

MAFIA CRIME IN ANTWERP

When those frogs drop a clanger...

they pick it up afterwards.

With a bulldozer, if necessary.

You can rest assured, Baron.

Don't worry, it's been taken care of.

That is, if you remembered me.

Did you think of me, Baron?

Wonderful.

If I may say so, I do enjoy doing business...

with an honest man.

Here's our friend Casoni.

But according to France,

the only Bernard Casoni...

is him. Young chap.

Center forward for Marseilles.

In our profession, you're better off...

knowing about soccer

than Greek mythology.

What do we have on this Angelo Ledda?

His credit cards are false.

No one has ever heard of him in France.

- And here?

- Here, they have.

There's a file at the Juvenile Court.

But on a Ledda

who's been dead for 40 years.

Have them send it anyway.

And the girl in the trunk?

Anja Laeremans.

A prostitute, the barman claims.

No pimp, no police record.

And unfortunately, no family, no friends,

but we're still looking.

Settling of scores in the prostitution world?

What if there's more to it?

Why not?

Perhaps, the Nivelles gang

is behind it as well.

Detective Chief Inspector? You were right.

The bullets are from the same weapon.

The girl in the trunk

was killed by Bieke Cuypers' killer.

What's going on?

Problem?

This can't be. You're dead.

No, you're dead.

Two bullets in the chest...

and one in the head. Again.

He's still warm. Want to feel?

No way.

Stimorol gum.

He comes home,

he wants to open the gate...

the sensor's f***ed up,

he approaches, and boom.

Coemans, did you report the car?

Affirmative, Detective Chief Inspector.

"I am for 69."

He's even sicker than you are.

Mrs. Seynaeve...

Chief Vincke and Inspector Verstuyft.

Madame, all of our sincere condolences.

Life goes on.

If you were expecting tears and a black veil,

I'm sorry.

But if you have any questions, go ahead.

Where was he coming from this late?

He went out for business.

No idea with whom...

or where. We never talk about these things.

In fact, we hardly ever speak.

I'm not the talkative type.

Has your husband been threatened before?

Not by me.

Any enemies?

No.

No, only friends.

My husband had lots of friends.

Pardon my rudeness...

but we found this in his mouth.

Any ideas?

No. Good to see there's still honest people.

- Are you being entirely honest yourself?

- I am.

Yes, but I am rather mistrustful...

by nature.

If I give it to you, will you let me go?

I promise I won't say anything!

If that crook thinks that...

- Is he here?

- Yes.

What are you doing?

Hello to you, too, Jean.

Haven't you heard? Seynaeve's been shot.

Impossible.

What on earth are you doing, Dad?

The guy must be really close. I wish...

"I wish?" A real man would say, "I want!"

Don't worry. He doesn't know me.

All the leads stop at Seynaeve.

- Who says so? Seynaeve?

- I say so.

Bastards!

Filthy bastards.

Nothing.

We're getting nowhere, guys.

Four murders and all we have are facts...

when we need connections.

Prostitution. Settling of scores.

There's only Bieke Cuypers...

on the child prostitution side.

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