Death for Sale Page #3

Malik!

Hello.

This is for my cousin...

What's her name? - Dounia.

Is she a singer? - A singer?

Sounds like a singer's name.

My uncle loves musicals, that's why.

Poor thing! What's in there?

Food...

Food?

You're fond of your cousin.

No problem, give it to me.

Thanks.

Can I come with you?

Where is he?

He didn't do anything.

God called her back to Him.

She's gone,

we can't bring her back.

She hanged herself.

Where is he?

He did nothing.

Where is he?

She hanged herself!

Calm down, Malik!

Stop thief! - Get him!

Thief!

Son of a b*tch! - Move!

Filthy thief! - Bastard!

Hit him!

Here, miss. - Thief!

Say you're sorry.

I'm sorry.

Come on, children...

back to class!

Listen to me!

Go inside, we'll take care of him.

Give him what he deserves.

God be with you.

We'll make a list of thieves,

faggots and tramps

who hang around school.

We'll hang them all, like this a**hole.

And then? - We'll kill them.

Easy! We torture them, then sell them

to whoever wants them.

They can kill them as they please.

Hey, who are these guys?

Who are they?

What are you doing

on my patch?

Who taught you

to hang people like this?

In an Islamic land!

He's a thief!

A thief has the right to be judged

for his own redemption.

Who will judge him?

He will be judged

according to Sharia law.

He was a thief. What about you?

You sin, you drink alcohol!

Cut him down if you want me

to pardon you.

Never. If you want him, you pay.

You're a real hot-head, eh?

Want me to cool it for you?

If you weren't just kids...

Let him go!

Get out of here!

Are you sure?

Go and see inspector Debbaz.

First floor.

No, the bakery is

just a cover.

He deals dope.

I don't like him selling to kids.

He's just small-time.

You won't find much at the bakery.

Allow me.

Shall I put them here? - Yes.

Like I said, inspector,

I don't like him selling dope to kids.

It's not only hashish, other drugs too.

How long has

he been dealing?

Since my father's death.

Since he's been running the bakery.

My mother doesn't know.

You'll get the other half

when I see with my own eyes.

Keep it, inspector.

There's a prisoner here called Dounia.

If you could let her go,

I'd be grateful.

Please...

Tell me what's going on!

You're ruining my goods!

Have mercy! My bread!

You haven't seen anything yet!

At least tell me what's going on!

We found this in a bag of flour.

I swear, I don't know

where that came from.

Take him away.

Have mercy...

Beat it! Let us do our job!

He hasn't done anything!

Let my husband go, I beg you!

A deal here, a theft there,

trafficking,

a madman who thinks

he's in Tora Bora...

You tell me and I'll take care of it.

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