Wait!
If I must die... I have to know.
I want to see your face.
Vidocq is dead!
Vidocq Betrayed by Love
Vidocq in Jail
Vidocq on the Run
Vidocq Escapes From Prison
Jailbird Turns Over a New Leaf
Convict Appointed Police Chief
Vidocq Revamps Police
Vidocq Decorated
Vidocq Dismissed
Vidocq Sets Up Investigation Agency
Vidocq & Nimier Investigations
Damn fool.
Goddamn shit hole!
What is it?
What do you want?
I'm Etienne Boisset. I'm a journalist.
Not interested!
Wait! Not any journalist.
It's about Vidocq.
I'm his official biographer.
What's so funny?
He wrote his own memoirs. He didn't need any help.
If you write about Vidocq, I'm the first to know.
I'm Nimier, his partner.
You want trouble?
Let me go. I've something to show you.
Look at this.
Vidocq wrote to me.
I swear it's true.
He was going to read my book.
Look!
Didn't you hear? Vidocq's dead.
That's just it.
What do you mean?
What do you want?
To finish my book.
And find his killer.
Vidocq's killer...
Poor fool.
I've got to find him.
My book will avenge his death.
Get out, half wit.
Get out while you can!
Tell me what you know.
You were both on the case.
You're dropping it?
His killer's a dead man.
That's where I can help.
Tell me. It'll clarify it for you too.
When did it start?
A week ago. He was trailing two high rollers...
The Lightning Conspiracy
Belmont and Veraldi.
It was a hype. Two guys get bumped off by lightning and...
One man struck by lightning is an accident...
two men struck by lightning is a plot.
Especially when it's Belmont and Veraldi.
Who are they?
Belmont was an arms dealer. Veraldi was a chemist.
They could turn any substance into gunpowder.
So?
So...
It's a blow to our army.
This is no time for our army to be weakened, not now.
What are you afraid of? The Prussians?
They put you in power.
I'm afraid of the enemy within.
Charles X's reforms aren't very popular.
Not very.
Paris is crawling with traitors:
Orléanists, Bonapartists, Republicans.
You can't trust anyone.
I'm not a politician.
My men are overworked.
That bolt of lightning was the last straw. You have to take the case.
You dismissed me 2 years ago, remember?
I'm sorry. I've too much work now.
Don't you understand? The monarchy's in danger!
They may strike again.
With the next storm!
Pay up and I'll consider it.
You have no scruples.
You're wasting your talent.
Who's to blame for that?
Remember,
you have until the next storm.
In Napoleon's time, we melted down church bells to make cannons.
We couldn't get enough of them.
So we set up foundries in churches, like this one.
It's a good spot. You're closer to God.
- Yes sir, but not for long. - Why?
That's just it.
Only Belmont knew the secret of fusion.
What do you think about his death?
It's strange how life can be ironic.
Belmont made his fortune with fire, and he died by fire!
He had all those bodyguards.
He was afraid of something.
True.
For some time, something had him scared.
Weren't his activities shady?
Belmont was as honest as they come.
He had some faults.
But we should drink to his health.
What faults?
I'll tell you.
Belmont...
had only one interest in life,
himself.
What do you mean?
He was like an artist,
working on his own self-portrait.
Was he married?
Yes...
to his own ego!
- What's going on? - Just routine.
Another lout catching fire.
We make gunpowder here.
Our clothes are full of it.
Hold on... When the lightning struck Belmont,
he went up like a torch.
Maybe his coat was covered in powder.
You're joking.
His coats were brushed clean
every night by the washerwomen.
They would never be so careless.
Better keep me on the list of suspects.
A canon exploded in my crotch at Austerlitz.
A minor technical flaw.
Thank you Mr. Belmont.
That wench isn't bad.
Get moving. Remember we only have until the next storm.
No time to lose.
Who cleans Mr. Belmont's frock coats?
That would be the little African, Gandin.
Where is he?
He'll be ironing now. Just holler...
Gandin!
Are you Gandin?
I didn't do anything, sir!
Yes or no?
Did you brush Belmont's coat?
I'm innocent, sir.
Yes or no?
I'm as good as gold.
Did you or did you not?
I'll iron your mug!
What are you doing? Let him go, damn it!
Sorry, the wine must've gone to my head.
Did you brush it?
- No. - Why?
- I was told not to. - By who?
Who?
- Let's hang him on the drying rack! - No! I got a letter.
You can read?
It said not to brush Belmont or Veraldi's clothes.
Who sent it?
I don't know. It had money...
- It's your fault they fried. - I didn't know.
- Fool. - No, I swear...
I had no choice.
Why was that?
The letter was like an order,
an order from the devil himself.
Nonsense.
No, I swear!
I think it was written in blood.
I believe it's possible to direct lightning at a target.
To attract lightning, all you need is a conductor.
And to direct it,
the conductor has to be mounted on a swivel.
There's one more thing, and this is paramount:
there must be a piece of metal on top of the target,
there.
Cover your eyes.
It looks easy.
The metal is the key.
The fire of the cosmos can pierce anything in a second,
but without flames.
A man struck by lightning
can't be burned.
He may even survive. It has happened.
Lightning was only the spark.
It reminds me of jail, when we tried to escape through the chimney.
- Forget that. - I wish I could.
What's on your mind?
They walked into a trap,
both primed to explode.
So?
So? If both our gentlemen were bombs,
there had to be fuses.
What was in the hat?
Well...
what was in there?
- A comb. - A what?
A gold comb.
A lady's comb.
- It drew the lightning. - Describe it.
It was Chinese.
- A devil with a monkey's head. - A devil?
What did you do then?
I didn't do anything.
Vidocq wanted me off the case.
- Why? - I don't know.
Maybe because of the iron. I was getting soft.
What did he do after that?
- Give me a lead. - If I'd stuck with him,
I could have stopped it. Damn it!
I should have...
I'll be back.
Nothing definite, sir.
They saw Vidocq last night. They don't know why he was here.
What about the pit... Why was he in this room?
No one knows.
Continue investigating. They're hiding something.
Who tipped off the press?
I'd like to know!
By God, how do you think this makes us look?
I still haven't seen the body.
The body?
Yes, Vidocq's body.
You think I've never seen a corpse before?
- Can we talk? - Not now.
I see...
Perhaps you have time to talk about Vidocq?
No time for Louis Belmont or Simon Veraldi?
No one else in Paris wears combs like this. I've checked.
I don't know what you mean.
You killed Belmont and Veraldi. I have proof.
You're the lightning murderer.
Fine, I'm a murderer.
And who are you?
I'm Etienne Boisset. I'm a journalist.
I'm investigating Vidocq's death.
You're not Asian.
What a sharp journalist.
You're quick.
- I want the combs. - What?
Give me the combs, I'll tell you what I know. Deal?
This is hard evidence of the murders.
Do I look like a monster to you?
I'm listening.
You know me, François.
You can't suspect me...
You didn't plant the combs in their hats?
Préah!
What did you get yourself involved in.
I can only cover up so much.
I'm keeping my partner out of this, but...
2 weeks ago, I got a letter with money.
I only had to slip the combs into Belmont and Veraldi's hats.
That was my part of the deal.
I never knew who paid me.
Did you wonder about it?
I thought someone wanted a scandal.
Why wouldn't I do it? They were just clients.
The letters weren't threatening?
Threatening?
Were they written in blood?
Of course not.
Actually, they were perfumed,
elegantly scripted...
I thought they were from a woman.
- Did you keep them? - What are you thinking?
Préah... who's next on the list?
What makes you think there was a third comb?
The Heavens.
Who's next on the list?
Ernest Laffite,
the director of the Invalides.
Wait, I'm coming!
Hey you!
- What are you doing? - Get lost!
I'm with the police.
It's in order.
- What were you doing on the roof? - Nothing.
I saw a shadow.
I'll take her home. She's not well.
Here.
- Where are the others? - In my personal archives.
It's not a political plot.
Belmont and Veraldi might have been political, not Laffite.
It was a coincidence they worked in the arms trade.
They died for another reason. It was a revenge killing.
An old vendetta.
The method of using lightning...
as if it were some kind of divine retribution.
You saw the killer, didn't you?
You saw the pigeons, and the way he used his cape.
Just a magician's trick.
You must be joking.
And the mask?
That fits with a revenge killing too.
- I don't think so. - A mirror...
as if those men had to face themselves.
That's absurd.
I knew them well. They were a bit odd,
but harmless.
Odd?
What do you mean by odd?
Was that all you did?
They never touched me.
Do you mean they...
preferred love with men?
They loved their own bodies
and faces, they loved themselves.
Is that why they died?
I don't know.
Vidocq thought so.
They had other fetishes, and someone didn't approve.
Maybe. Eccentrics with make-up, a lightning killer,
a mirror mask, it's all bizarre.
Where did he go then?
Vidocq, I mean.
I don't know.
I'm sure of one thing: he died because of me.
No, it was the investigation.
He was working alone to protect me. That's why he died.
Did you know him long?
Well, Mr. Policeman...
let's see how clever you are.
See if you can slip this off me.
It's a secret of Siam.
It was fitted to my body.
No buttons, no seams.
What kind of...
What was your relationship?
Professional...
Purely professional.
Here you go.
Is this a joke?
Tomorrow, same time.
What planet are you from?
- Santer. - I don't know it.
It's a village in Provence.
Did you ever meet Vidocq?
No, I only wrote to him.
He had agreed
to help me with his biography.
- A biography? - Much more.
A real book.
A serious book.
If I name his killer in the last chapter,
I'll avenge his death.
You admired him.
I know all about him:
about his jailbreak, how he joined the police,
how he locked up all those criminals.
He wasn't a saint.
Don't drag him down.
He betrayed his friends to join the police.
Everyone knows that. It's in my book.
He wanted to fight crime. He'd stop at nothing.
That's not what he thought.
He felt guilty. It was his strength,
and his inspiration.
What do you mean?
He felt everyone had a dark side. That's why the three men died.
You're hiding something! You know where he went?
You can't handle it.
Tell me what you know!
He thought they were perverse. He was trailing them.
How?
He was going to visit the most notorious house of shame.
Where?
The Temple District, Boulevard du Crime.
Thank you, Préah.
How is our investigation?
A suspect's missing.
What do you mean?
The head glass-blower. He hasn't been to work.
He's hiding. The others are protecting him.
I knew it.
The craftsman saw something. He's hiding.
He's scared to death.
What is it?
Nothing.
Find him by tomorrow.
- Don't worry, sir. - Don't worry! By God!
They got Belmont, Veraldi, Laffite. Vidocq burned. Our best agent.
Yes, the best. You know as well as I do!
That's enough!
Paris is on the verge of revolt.
The Belmont foundries are idle. No one's making arms. It's a plot.
Excuse me, sir, if the murders are political,
why kill Ernest Laffite?
Why a doctor?
It must be part of the plan,
their diabolical plan.
Surround the Temple District. Round up anyone suspicious.
Go back to the glassworks.
Interrogate the workers again.
I'm sure we'll find something there.
Go on. I'll join you later.
Minister Polignac's here. I must stay till closing.
Go!
Interested in mechanics?
I'm Sylvia, the manager.
What have we got for this handsome young man?
The fire of Zanzibar.
The salt mines of Guérande.
The desert wind.
I'm sorry, I'm not looking for a girl.
I'm investigating Vidocq's death.
Santa Maria.
Vidocq... May his soul rest in peace.
You knew him?
He was a customer and a friend.
I want to know who killed him.
Who doesn't?
I want to see this through.
You'll have to go to hell and back.
Hell?
He was trailing 3 men.
Belmont, Laffite and Veraldi. Were they clients?
No, this establishment didn't stock the items they were after.
Very rare items.
Items? What items?
Virgins, virginal girls.
Pure souls, they called them.
What did they want them for?
What do you think?
It can't be.
The bastards bought them from poor families.
There are plenty around here.
I don't believe you.
You're tiring me.
Go to the paper, "The Furet".
Ask for Froissard. He knows the whole story.
"The Furet", Froissard, the journalist.
Thank you.
Citizens of Paris assert their indignation!
We are in the majority!
News has come from all towns within forty miles of Paris!
Everywhere, patriots are gaining ground.
Paris' population
is prepared to sacrifice everything to save the charter.
The charter!
"April 15, 1830. Testimony of Perrine Dorin."
"Testimony of Simone Ménand."
"Testimony of Etienne Valmont."
"May 3, 1830..."
"June 24, 1830..."
"The Temple District."
What are you doing here?
Answer me!
- What are you up to? - Investigating.
Investigating what?
Vidocq's murder.
Is that so?
I'm his biographer.
His official biographer.
Get lost, fool.
Go find your own ass hole.
The press is so powerful?
It may be sordid, but it's the truth.
Why not tell the police?
Not yet. I'll soon know the name of the ringleader,
the man who manipulated the three perverts.
You didn't expect that.
If it weren't for Vidocq's death, it would be settled.
We were following the same lead.
- What lead? - The glassworks.
The glassworks?
What's the link with the lightning, the murders, the virgins?
I don't reveal sources.
I was going there when he died.
That's how I got the story before anyone else.
Froissard, the fastest pen in Paris.
You're mad. It's not a race, it's murder.
Is everything all right?
Fine. I'm giving the kid some pointers.
Not now, Froissard.
Things are heating up. We need you.
Alright, I'm coming.
You can't go to the police
because you've no real proof.
I have facts.
It's hearsay.
- I have witnesses. - Drunks and alcoholics.
I have a top-notch witness.
Who?
Me!
You can be sure there was going to be an orgy.
I don't believe you.
If you don't, ask Marine Laffite.
Marine Laffite?
The doctor's wife.
Where is she?
Don't bother. She's in no shape to talk.
- Is she dead? - Nearly.
Opium.
Opium, my friend.
Doped to the eyeballs.
Since her husband's death, she hasn't left her opium den.
Drop it. You can't handle it!
You're all in it together.
- Well? - Nothing.
- You didn't find the glass-blower? - They knew nothing.
Or else they were scared.
I spoke with Polignac. Charles X is issuing 4 decrees:
restraining the press, dissolving the chamber.
Good lord.
Exactly.
What will come of this?
Insurrection.
The citizens will revolt.
With the weapons we have,
we should lock ourselves up
while we wait for reinforcements.
Let them go.
Too bad for the witness. We won't learn more here.
Any news on the Temple revolt? And the surveillance operation?
We're abandoning it.
Tomorrow, we've more important things to do.
- Just one more thing. - What?
Child workers at the glassworks said something odd.
A detail that keeps coming up...
What is it?
They talk of some monster that wanders the glassworks, a ghost...
a creature that has a mirror where his face should be...
Sound familiar?
Vaguely. It's a neighborhood legend. A ghost, or something like that.
When there's a crime, they blame the fiend.
Pure superstition.
Is that all?
I thought...
perhaps we've been on the wrong trail.
Maybe this creature is linked to the murders...
to Vidocq's murder.
You've lost your mind.
You believe in ghosts?
Go get some rest, Mr. Tauzet.
Should I look into it further?
Get some rest!
In a few hours, it won't just be ghosts haunting you.
Marine Laffite?
Are you Marine Laffite?
What do you want?
No time for small talk.
I'm looking for Vidocq's killer.
Vidocq was murdered?
Why are you laughing?
Because it's my fault.
Why?
Don't you see, I pushed him into the monster's clutches!
What monster? Tell me...
- When did you see Vidocq? - 2 days ago.
In my boudoir.
Go on.
Want to die too?
What happened to him?
My fix first.
Who's in charge here?
They'll come.
Tell me.
It all began with Ernest, with his obsession.
He was narcissistic, he didn't want to get old.
That's one way of looking at it.
Your husband was an eccentric,
but also a pervert. He was selling virgins.
Shut up, you know nothing!
Ernest cultivated his image like a work of art.
He thought he was a work of art.
His age was defeating him.
He was obsessed.
He never touched me anymore.
He fixated on his skin, wrinkles...
it was literally eating him up.
Every night, he'd meet the others.
Belmont and Veraldi?
One night I followed him.
This will restore our skin to its youthful lustre.
Stop. You said that last time.
What good will that do you?
A little time in this world?
A touch of magic powder,
and your youth will be restored?
I've got a deal for you.
What are you selling?
What you're looking for...
Eternal youth.
What?
A potion of eternal youth.
Nonsense. No one has that power.
No one, but me!
What do you want...
in exchange?
I need an item.
If you provide it,
you'll get the potion of eternal youth.
What item?
Virgins.
Young virginal girls.
Pure souls.
That's why he bought them?
Why else?
It wasn't sexual?
Sexual?
These men were beyond sex. I would know.
They were into beauty, elegance. A timeless work of art.
The man in the mask, who is he?
The Alchemist.
Who?
The Alchemist.
They say he prowls the Temple District.
He assumes his victims' image in his mirror.
Don't laugh.
He has the potion of youth... It's certain.
He needed the virgins to make the potion.
The drugs have poisoned your mind.
Why am I listening to you?
You're terrified... like me, like Ernest, like all of us.
You're delirious.
Beware of the mask!
If your reflection penetrates,
your soul is lost.
You're crazy.
Weeks went by.
Ernest and the others continued delivering virgins.
They drugged them.
I wanted to stop it all.
I really did.
The opium was too strong... it was everything.
Ernest was eaten up with remorse.
One night, he decided he'd had enough.
8 deliveries and still no potion.
You lied.
You have nothing. No secrets, no potions, nothing.
You're simply...
evil.
I need more!
That's it. I'm finished.
I need more.
He told me everything.
He stopped the deliveries.
So he was killed?
After Belmont and Veraldi, he got the lightning.
- Did you tell Vidocq? - Yes.
What did he do?
Where's that Indian?
What did Vidocq do?
What did he do?
- He took our carriage. - What for?
He thought the horses would lead him to the lab.
What do you mean?
Answer me.
Answer me!
The 8 convoys of girls.
The horses knew the way.
Where's the laboratory?
Answer me!
- Get out! - Where is it?
Answer me!
If I knew,
I'd be dead already.
I won't be long.
Popular beliefs, Rumors, Superstitions.
"A legend.
"One of the oldest legends of the Temple District.
"The Alchemist is a killer and a scientist.
"The residents believe all the unsolved murders are his doing.
"Some say he has no face, others say he has many.
"Still others say
"whoever looks into his mask, loses their soul."
"Whoever looks into his mask, loses their soul."
Whoever looks into his mask,
loses their soul.
Open it.
Open up.
I need to talk to you.
What are you doing here?
Etienne Boisset, I'm investigating Vidocq's death.
That's a good one.
Arrest this scoundrel.
Tell us what you're doing.
My men said a guy that looked like you
was seen on the Boulevard du Crime.
Sir, look!
I told you, Vidocq was investigating the Alchemist.
Good God, the man exists!
It's not a legend.
Let me explain!
It's clear, it's very clear:
Vidocq followed him to the glassworks and...
the Alchemist pushed him into the pit.
Perhaps, yes.
What else?
Let's review our theory thus far...
Suppose the Alchemist was behind the lightning,
and Vidocq was behind him.
I don't get it.
The lightning, the murders, the mask...
It doesn't add up to the supposed criminal.
That would explain these gadgets and...
the mask.
Did Vidocq fall into the pit by accident?
Listen to me.
He orchestrated his own death.
We only found
a pile of ashes, right?
What a great exit for a crooked manipulator.
If I may be so bold, all this seems a bit
complicated.
Listen to me!
Vidocq and the Alchemist are two people. I've proof.
Our investigator seems to know his subject.
What proof?
Let me go!
They fought at the Invalides when Laffite died.
I have a witness.
What about the gadgets?
Vidocq was a chemist, experimenting with paper.
Is this just decoration?
Who says
there's only one man behind the Alchemist?
You're crazy.
Two rogues could be behind the mask.
Vidocq and
another monster...
Nimier, for example.
You're crazy.
I'm fine, really.
- Are you taking... - The evidence.
Calm down!
Settle down!
What's this?
Where are you from?
He wears a mirror... is that it?
A mirror where his face should be.
How did you escape?
What did he do to you?
What does he do to girls?
What does he do?
Where's his laboratory?
Where is it?
Son of a bitch!
Bastard!
Now I know the monster's secret.
His mirror is alive.
The mask is merely
an energy magnet.
It draws in energy.
The Alchemist robs his victims'souls when he kills them.
He imprisons them with his mask.
He lives off them in order to stay young.
The Alchemist
uses virgins' blood to make the mirror for his mask.
It's the purity of the blood
that gives him life.
If I'm right, I know where to find him now.
The killer doesn't make his mask, he gathers the materials.
The Alchemist has an accomplice, a glass-maker.
I know where to find the man.
The Arsenal glassworks.
Hey, wise guy. Up to no good?
Where did you get that? Still making trouble?
At least I'm doing something.
You think I'm doing nothing?
I've started from scratch by questioning the Chink!
I'm the one who started from scratch.
What's the difference?
You know more than me?
I know who Vidocq was looking for at the glassworks,
and why his suspect was there.
You mean the Alchemist?
You're a bit slow.
You should be after his accomplice.
You mean the glass-blower?
Yes.
The guy saw everything. He saw Vidocq get killed.
What?
Last night I furtively spoke to the glass-blowers when the police left.
I knew they were hiding a guy.
They knew they had to hand him over if they wanted my protection.
- Will he talk? - He's no choice.
It's me or the Alchemist.
- Are you going? - You're quick.
- Take me. - Sure?
It's my investigation. I want to catch him.
I want to avenge Vidocq.
Let's go.
- Where? - Where no one would dare look.
The glassworks.
With Froissard, that makes two.
Every time that fool pays someone a visit,
the Alchemist follows and eliminates the witnesses.
It'll be his turn soon.
And we lost him.
No, sir. I know where he went.
He's with Nimier.
They found the glass-blower.
Well then,
it's the moment of truth.
You'll need this for the gas. Today we're burning toxic materials.
Go on, tell them what you saw.
Relax, they're here to protect you.
He said he was after the devil.
But he was the devil.
He needs a new mask.
He gave me the stuff.
When's he coming back?
When?
He's here now.
What?
In the cooling room.
He should be there.
I can't go when he's...
Wait!
If I must die,
I want to know...
I want to see your face!
Vidocq let himself be killed? Impossible.
I swear I saw it.
When Vidocq saw the monster's face,
he jumped into the pit.
Did you see his face?
No. His back was to me.
All this for nothing.
It was my last hope.
Inspector,
you didn't miss a thing.
Nobody saw anything.
Nobody will know who the Alchemist is.
Really?
Let me see your face.
It wasn't what I saw behind the mask that made me let go,
it was what I saw in the mask!
I told the workers I had to be dead.
Dead in theory.
They hid me.
Took care of me.
At night Nimier came to see me.
I knew you tried to clean up the trail of evidence.
What better cover up than Etienne, the idiot.
God damn mask.
Nimier!
He's mine. He's trapped.
Bastard!
Let me see the body!
I wanted to see you.
I wanted to be sure it wasn't a bad dream.
I could've done without this.
What's happening?
It's over. The people have the Louvre,
Charles X has fled.
Will that change anything?
For them, I don't know. For me, it's finished.
- What do you mean? - At best prison.
At worst, the guillotine.
Or vice versa.
Will you leave France?
No, I'll face the music.
After what we've been through...
By God, how could this have happened?
To our friend Jean-François Mallet
Subtitles: Pamela Grant Corrections: awaqeded2