To be 100 years old and to be at war. Raymond Boithias, the dean of the Paris criminal brigade, hopes to win this "der des ders" against the invisible enemy. In these times of coronavirus, in his small apartment in a commune of Yvelines, the one who has just celebrated his birthday recites poems from the Parnassians, his favorites, Leconte de Lisle and his Sommeil du condor , and then Baudelaire ( I more memories than if I was a thousand years old ). A gymnastics of the spirit to which he performs every day, under a lithograph by Dali, surrounded by his books, so precious in his sparkling eyes.
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Sitting in the living room sofa, he follows the "news" on the radio, shoulder to shoulder with Gisèle, his wife, elegant and silent. "We are lucky to be two," he slides tenderly. Commissioner Boithias was probably wise enough not to devote everything to his profession. He left the police in 1979, without continuing in the private sector, as so many others do, at the time of retirement.
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