"I was exempted from military service, I was classified in the P5 category. [exemption for psychiatric reasons] Back then, I had already attempted suicide. I mentioned it to them and they got scared. [...] I lived most of my life at this address. [4 passage Georges Hany, Nanterre] A few times, I rented a place alone, but I always ended up moving back to my mother's house. [...] I also requested to the city of Nanterre to get low-income housing in 1998. This request did not succeed, not because of a refusal by the local authority but because I decided so. I did not cling to life anymore so I chose to give up. It was at this time that I became socially isolated. [...] I am unemployed, but I am not really looking for a job. I had decided to die, I no longer projected myself into the future. [...] A long time ago, I wanted to pass on my knowledge and be useful to young people. However, I lost this interest, I didn't fit there and I didn't manage to pass on my knowledge. [...] As I never gave myself the means to succeed, I ended up becoming helpless and a social failure. Which largely explains, but not exclusively, the nature of my actions. [...] My mother, in comparison, has always been brave and admirable. As I didn't take revenge on society in regard to her situation (she is a foreign cleaning lady), I was not worthy of living because I hadn't learned how to fight and defend myself and people I love. I have always been the loser, the defeated one, the one with the mentality of a slave. [...] I should have found mentors to make of my short life some noble and interesting things but I did not search hard enough. To best illustrate my behavior, you should watch Martin Scorsese's film Taxi Driver with Robert De Niro. I'm saying the same thing over and over, but the asocial person that I am, who is ignorant of the realities of life does not deserve to live."
"Now, I would like to explain myself about the sequence of yesterday night's events. I am going to explain to you how it happened and why. [...] I was a basic activist for the Socialist Party in the 90s, then I became a member of a citizens' organization, Réinventons Nanterre [Let's Reinvent Nanterre]. I am the treasurer of the Nanterre Human Rights League. But none of these activities and functions, in addition to some charity work I did in the past, guaranteed me to integrate in society. They slowed down my destructive madness ambition for a while. What also restrained me was my family, as well as some kind of ethic that imposed on me to refuse to murder and to cause harm, and the memory of honorable people I had known in Kosovo and Bosnia and Herzegovina and who fought against racism and for democracy. For many years I thought against this project, but as I am nothing socially, as I don't have any close friend anymore, nor family, and I didn't fight to the end for causes in which I had to believe, I understood that I now was out-of-place everywhere. So I had to eliminate myself. Had I been a real rebel, a real fighter, I should have fought to protect people against war criminals, against those advocating for racism or for a totalitarian vision of the world. I did not give myself the means as I do not have the intellectual, physical and physiological capacities to do so. I've always lived in a mental prison of which I was my own jailer. Since I had become a living dead by my own will, I decided to put an end to it by killing a local mini-elite who was the representatives, the leaders and the decision-makers of a city that I have always hated. I haven't found the antidotes that would make me have self-respect and respect others. I did not reach an ideal of humanism and as I let myself go into idleness and failure, I wanted to kill to take a futile and childish revenge on myself and on the symbols of power these politicians are. I wanted to know the euphoria and the feeling of being free in death. [...] I couldn't stand anymore this masquerade of local democracy, whereas I, a simple citizen, have no real control over this power and that I was only a pawn in the real political issues and the reality of power, in comparison to these public figures who have always taken me for a fool when I was an activist. [...] I had planned to kill these people at other previous town councils, but I still had moral safeguards and inhibitions. To get rid of them, I did everything I could to commit social, intellectual and emotional suicide: I lived as an old bachelor; didn't gain any knowledge in a job I would have been proud of; never built lasting bonds with people, faced impossibility to love and to be loved [...]. Since a long time I had put myself in a logic of destruction. I did not see how to change the course of things, even if I was given the choice and I had to fight like crazy for life. [...] I didn't manage to secure anything, I have nothing to pass on, that's why I wanted to kill rather than ending up in prison, in a psychiatric hospital or as a tramp. It was also absolute necessity that I kill myself simultaneously. One of my weapons, the Smith and Wesson, was meant to be used to kill myself, but I was overpowered by the councillors and the police. Then, I was kicked in the face by a councilor and I hit my head against the ground on purpose to smash it. [...] Last night, I left my house at 6 p.m., I only took with me three weapons, two Glocks 17 and 18 and a Smith and Wesson. For the Smith and Wesson, I had taken about twenty cartridges and I had loaded six cartridges in the cylinder. For the Glocks, I had taken several magazines which I loaded each with fifteen 9 mm cartridges. I put my three weapons in the inner and outer pockets of my parka. It was the first time I was going to a municipal council with a weapon. I arrived on foot at 7 p.m., I took an audience seat in the middle of the room. A municipal councilor was sitting on my left, I knew him from the Réinventons Nanterre organization. [...] I attended the full council and for the whole time I was wondering whether I was going to do it or not. I don't know to what extent my murders can be explained by ideological or psychiatrical reasons. At the end of the council, all my inhibitions disappeared and I realized I had to do it and that I shouldn't leave without having done anything. I had lost track of time, the audience had left the room gradually and the councilors were also going to do it shortly. At that moment, I was still wondering what I should do. In the last minutes of the council, I realized I could not back off anymore and I told myself: it was now or never. I stood up, took out the Glock 19 that was in the right outer pocket of my parka. I first aimed and opened fire on the mayor, Mrs. Fraysse. I aimed straight ahead, I think I shot her but I'm not sure. I acted like a robot, I didn't say a word. I started shooting at Mrs. Fraysse because she was in the middle. I don't know how many times I shot Mrs. Fraysse, I was about ten meters away from her. [...] I had not planned a specific order in my execution, I wanted to kill as many people as possible, then kill myself. As I was moving towards the platform, I shot at anything that moves. I was holding my gun in my right hand. I was running around the seats. I was not shooting anyone in particular, I was shooting randomly. I don't remember who I shot then, it might have been Mr. Laubier, the first deputy mayor. I don't know if I hit him. It was at that moment that some councilors tried to overpower me. Among them was M. Perreau, a Communist councilor, who threw an armchair at me. There was also Patrice Marchal, Vincent Soulage and Laurent Elghozi, the latter tackled me tight around the waist during the scrum. [...] I managed to shoot the Glock 17 as I had dropped my Glock 19 and I couldn't reload it. I didn't need to chamber a round in the Glock 17, as I had already done it the last time I went to the bathroom during the council. I was not aiming, I was shooting at those attempting to get in my way, I couldn't see who I was hitting, I don't know who I managed to injure or kill, I could only see blood and hear screamings. [...] At some point, I had no magazines left. There I was overpowered by councillors, they took my Smith and Wesson. I tried to grab the weapon, but they stopped me. That's when I shouted to kill me. [...] I was shouting at the people who were overpowering me to "Kill me, Kill me". Because I no longer had a magazine in the Glock 17, it was impossible for me to use the gun against myself. They were holding me tight. I then tried to take a switchblade out of my right trouser pocket to kill myself, but the usher grabbed it. [...] Above all, I do not understand how I could botch my suicide attempt and how and why the councillors and the police officers did not kill me. I think a madman like me should be put down ruthlessly and pitilessly. [...] The only person I intentionally targeted was Mrs. Fraysse. I targeted her for her because she is the mayor, but also because I had no respect for her. In my opinion, she is the embodiment of an irrevocable apparatchik that creates a system based on political patronage. She is the typical representative of the big hypocritical red bourgeoisie that controls a lot of things and pretends to be democrats and so-called "close to the people". As for the other councilors, I acted randomly, without looking at who they were and to which political party they belonged. [...] [I left behind] a savings account and some money on my mother's bedside table so that she doesn't lack of anything. I want to die because I am a thing and trash. It is 1:30 p.m., I acknowledge and sign this report. Richard Durn."
“[Richard Durn says he maintains] “all of the statements that [he] made the day before [...] No, I didn't have a backpack. I took my three weapons and I put them in the different pockets of my jacket. I had decided not to take any piece of paper. I had put some sheets of blank paper in the briefcase. I thought maybe I would take notes about the council, but in the end I didn't take any."
"Do you remember writing these letters and dropping them in At this stage of the interrogation, we state that the man named Durn Richard rushes towards the skylight of the office and throws himself into the void. Our action, combined with that of our colleague, did not prevent Durn from falling."