The French Connection II

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Taking your number, fella. I got it.

That's in case you screwed me.

- Bartlemy!

- Pardon?

Bart...

Bartlemy.

Ah.

- Bartlemy.

- Hm?

- Bartlemy.

- Barthlmy?

- Bartlemy. Yeah.

- Which one?

Barthlmy.

Bartlemy?

Bartlemy.

I'm Doyle.

Ah. Doyle. Henri Barthlmy.

- Bartlemy.

- We were expecting you.

- A little spare-time work?

- Narcotics.

- In the fish?

- In the fish.

Unfortunately this is our information,

Monsieur Doyle.

Oh, pardon me. Inspectors Diron and Miletto.

Monsieur Doyle de New York.

- We shall work together.

- Great.

Henri!

- What's all this about?

- Poisson d'avril.

- What?

- Oh, I'm sorry.

April Fools' Day.

You know? We are the first of April.

You see, this information was a bad joke.

Over here, on April Fools' Day, it's a custom

to pin a fish on people. You know?

Only it's usually a paper one.

They really pinned it to you this time.

This way, please.

"Doyle, James R."

"42 years old. Nickname: Popeye."

Cute.

Spinach.

What are you doin' with my file

in the shithouse, huh?

This another one of your April Fool jokes?

No. I like reading it here.

Uh...

60 kilos of heroin. It was a big arrest.

Regarde, Miletto.

We have an authentic American hero here.

Where the f*** did you get that?

Mr. Doyle, I was requested to help you.

I didn't request that you come here.

But naturally I wanted to know

who you were. I found out.

After this big arrest,...

..it disappeared.

I read in the papers that somebody stole your

heroin right out of the police headquarters.

Was it your friends?

My friends are still on the force.

How many men have you killed?

Wait a f***in' minute. Wait a minute!

Am I bein' interrogated here?

Am I workin' with you, or am l

some kind of goddamn suspect, or what?

Five.

Five people killed.

It seems quite a lot.

I've been a New York cop for 14 years.

I know that the dope that comes out of

this city has killed a lot more than I have.

Two of the dead were policemen.

Right?

Miletto, show him his office.

Mr. Doyle.

This is, uh... your office.

Right here.

- Yeah.

Right next to the, uh... the shithouse, huh?

I got a telephone, an extension... It's terrific.

Very nice.

Hey, Henry. It's beautiful. Really beautiful.

I'd be better off in New York on welfare.

Hey, poor Popeye. You are -

how do you say - homesick?

I'll send for some spinach.

Hey, Bartlemy, why don't you

knock off the chickenshit, huh?

I'd rather be a lamppost in New York

than the president of France.

I came over for one thing only: to get

Charnier. And that's what I'm gonna do.

I'm gonna get him and put him

where he belongs, even if you won't.

Hey, bravo. It's D-day in Marseilles.

The Americans have landed.

Hey, this Charnier of yours,

to begin with, this is certainly not his name.

Second, there is no record of such a man -

here, in Paris, or in the streets.

But there is more of a record on you,

and it's not very nice.

I must remind you,

it's you that let him escape.

Come, back to work. But you come

only with us to observe, hein?

You carry no gun, I hope.

- It's illegal for foreigners. Even policemen.

- No, no gun. I'm strictly by the book.

- You read my file, right?

- That's why I asked.

- Raoul?

- Oui, Henri.

- Miletto?

- Oui.

- Prets?

- Prets.

OK.

Doyle.

You just stay close to me and observe.

You are my guest.

You do nothing, say nothing. OK?

Who, me? I'm naked, remember?

You must think I'm some sort of hero.

No, I'm just here to watch how the pros do it.

I'm your guest.

On y va.

Ici la police!

Hey!

Hey!

Doyle! Doyle!

Doyle, come back! Doyle!

Doyle! Raoul!

You bastard!

Get him off me, goddamnit!

I want him arrested!

You're under arrest, you son of a b*tch!

Shut up! You've got

no police powers here, Doyle!

Forget it. Raoul!

- Come on. Come on, Doyle.

- No! I want that bastard collared!

- You let him go?

- He's ours.

- What?

- He's ours!

How do you think he got out of there?

Come on.

Holy sh*t.

Why don't you go back to New York and

kill policemen? That's what you do best.

Raoul, tu appelles "ambulance.

Two months' infiltration

wasted through your madness.

- If you'd warned me, he'd still be alive.

- No!

If you'd done what I told you,

he would still be alive.

Hey, what'd he say? What'd he say?

Look at all this stuff.

Must've been an accident, huh?

Look at that acid. Must be enough there

for 50 kilos. Maybe double that.

You hit him too soon. Hey, you screwed up.

I have a job for you, Doyle.

You want to know what people say?

You talk to them!

What do you mean?

Hey, you mean interrogate 'em?

What am I supposed to use - sign language?

I don't speak French, remember?

Miletto will be your interpreter. Miletto!

- Hey. Shove it.

- No, my friend. You shove it!

You don't help us outside. You just f*** up.

What do you know of Marseilles? You think

it's Harlem? Kicking blacks in the streets?

Get depositions from all of them. I don't give

a damn what they say, but I want it in writing.

Hey, look. I came over here

to nail that Frog son of a b*tch good.

It's not part of my plan to sit beatin' my meat

while you French narcs grab all the credit.

You stick me next to the shithouse

while you take all the medals, right?

That's right.

We should decide

the matter of the rendezvous.

A place to meet after

you have made the delivery.

How's New York?

You know better than that, William.

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