Original subtitles

viewers like you make this program possible support your local PBS station

Better hurry. Mass is in 15 minutes.

Not out here.

I need something to eat.

Now? Yes.

Then I'll wait, Felix.

You too.

Emails to write.

Yes, sir.

Hurry up.

Clean up and go.

Selene. To that loser Roger Guyardin.

The midnight deadline has passed.

My offer will now go down by 5 million euros every 24 hours.

So?

Dr. Klein confirmed tomorrow morning.

You'll be there?

See the heartbeat?

I will not miss it for a while.

Yes, Lucas.

Are you near a TV, boss?

Do I have to be?

Yes. A report to ambush Leila's parents.

They're talking.

How worried are you for Leila?

Worried? Well, she's been missing for more than three days.

Did the police have any leads?

No. I mean...

They're working hard, but it's just another job for them.

For us, our whole world's been ripped apart. Our baby is gone.

What more would you like to see being done?

The police are doing the best they can.

Layla's brought joy to so many people.

If anyone knows anything or has seen anything, please just tell us or tell

police. Christ, we're going to be swamped.

please call Chief Inspector Maygrate at the police judiciary or leave a message

on our Where Is Leila Facebook page that we've set up and we'll pass on the

message to the police.

We need your help.

Thank you.

I'll come in.

Jean -Pierre is already outside.

You still don't know what happened?

No.

Are you worried?

Yes.

of influencer Leila Leone three days ago.

The police have no leads.

So the mystery deepens, as do the fears of her parents and her thousands of

fans.

Chief Inspector Magritte.

My boss wants to talk to you.

Don't you know where I live?

If Monsieur Fumar wants someone, he finds them.

Tell him to find his local police station and talk to them.

What was that about?

Leila fans.

Can I run a couple of them over?

Not today.

What

idiot

let them in here?

Don't just type, go there.

Yeah, just by the border.

I have your number, thank you.

Someone saw Leila near the Spanish border last night.

20th tip this morning.

Let it go to voicemail. Apont, Carver, over here.

Taros, you too.

We've got all we need. Come here.

He's going to see you out. Let's go through what we know so far.

Relationships outside the family.

No boyfriend, no girlfriend, no close friends.

In her latest video, she was advocating celibacy.

Oh, welcome to the club.

That's a surprise.

What about relationships at work?

Same picture. She doesn't have any.

Workers with her and her friends.

Mum and Dad handle business side.

So, unfortunately, Mum and Dad are right.

She's been missing three days. We don't have a single lead. No, we have dozens

of leads. By the end of the day, we're going to have hundreds of leads. We

have the manpower to follow them all up.

She could be kidnapped.

She could be murdered.

Or she could be faking it.

Layla was a mid -range influencer with about 600 ,000 followers, but she was

losing followers and sponsors.

Now, however, the Where Is Layla Facebook page her parents set up has had

million hits.

So this is just a publicity stunt?

No, as far as we're concerned, she's still a missing kid.

And we'll put everything we have into finding her.

Madam Prosecutor, we've got no news as yet.

And the fact that Leila's parents have decided to go public... I'm sorry, I'm

not here about Leila.

Can you come with me, Chief Inspector?

Put all calls through to voicemail. Go through them at the end of the day. Get

back out there. Go to all the places where Leila was last seen. Ask

We've done that. Then we do it again.

What did she say? What was her appearance? What was her mood?

The point?

Look at the parents.

What do you mean?

What do you mean, what do I mean?

You're the one who suggested it might be a put -up job. Look at them.

Minister. Chief Inspector Maygrave.

Chief Inspector.

Give me two minutes.

I apologise for pulling you away from your work.

Mathilde says you have your hands full with this influencer girl.

We do.

Monsieur Fomal called me.

He said he tried to talk to you this morning.

His driver did.

Who is he?

The owner of Fomal .co, the retail billionaire.

Surely you've heard of him.

I'm not a big shopper.

Fomal has been receiving death threats. I would like you to investigate them.

My unit doesn't investigate threats, Madam Minister.

If he gets killed, then we'll investigate.

May I agree? This is not how you... Mathilde, it's all right.

Pharrell has many friends in the media.

If these threats turn out to be real or, God forbid, are acted on, a vast amount

of government and police time will have to be spent investigating them.

I'm asking you to nip that in the bud.

Find out what's going on.

For Marley's a bully.

But he'll tell me you can't be bullied.

I'm asking you as a personal favor.

Go and see him.

I don't need to.

He's just showed up at my office.

Minister.

I'll deal with it.

Even scruffier than you used to be.

Fumar.

Ferdinand Fumar.

Correct. Or as you used to call me, Fatty Fumar.

Oink, oink.

The butcher's son from Saint -Fiacre.

And you, the estate manager's son, well...

Look at me now.

Look at you.

And, uh, the girl you can't find.

Did the minister give you an earful?

No, she told me to speak to you.

Did she tell you who I was?

Some sort of businessman.

Some sort.

I have revolutionized food retail in France. I've built an empire. Getting

threats?

Yes.

Messages.

I'm going to cut you up.

You're going to die.

You don't know who's sending them?

No.

Does anyone bear you a grudge right now? Roger Guyadin.

I'm buying his business and he hates me.

What, enough to want to kill you?

Well, he's weak. He could be desperate.

I need to see the messages.

Take a look around your home and offices.

Interview your staff.

I have dozens of offices and thousands of staff.

But my headquarters is at my home, at 219 Rue de Corcel.

I'll tell my secretary you come in.

Do you have family?

A wife.

Children? No children.

Same as you.

Do you have lovers? A mistress?

None of your business.

But you came to me, it is my business. She isn't.

Talk to my secretary, Celine.

You'll like her.

Most men do.

See you later, Jules.

What are you, the geisha?

Rude.

Boss, you can't get involved with this jerk. We're already swamped. No choice.

Tell Guy that we want to speak to him. Don't say why.

Where are you going?

A bar.

Then root a course out.

Thanks.

Fumar.

Ferdinand Fumar.

Or as you used to call me, Fatty Fumar.

Come on, guys, let's eat them.

He'll come down when he's hungry.

But...

Look,

sorry to interrupt your busy day, but we might have something on Layla.

Her spinning class was cancelled three days ago because the instructor, Marcus

Azaiz, stopped turning up.

That's Marcus.

A couple of people in the class said that he used to pay a lot of attention

Leila, flirting, touching, borderline inappropriate.

They also say that his cell phone number went dead three days ago, the same day

Leila disappeared.

Le Point.

Found where Marcus lives.

What on earth are you doing?

Concierge wouldn't give me the key.

Didn't believe I was a cop.

Even said my ID was fake, so... Initiative.

I like him.

Clever little Le Pont.

He's a musician.

Paris Conservatoire.

Toothbrush and shaving stuff have gone.

Bed hasn't been slept in.

Anything that might belong to Layla.

What, like a fetish?

No, like she was here.

Actually, I could be right about the fetish.

Marcus's screen saver was Layla, and his password was her date of birth.

And this is his photo album.

He was stalking her.

Posted yesterday and arrived today.

Alpen.

So you were there today?

Well, someone was.

We should get out, put a watch on the place.

Boss, should we do that?

Yes.

Good idea.

Where are you going?

To find out who wants to kill a billionaire.

I know who you are. This way.

I'm Celine Borge, personal secretary to Monsieur Fumar.

Death threat.

You're going to die. I'm going to cut you up. Oh, I left out bastard.

That's on.

We checked with our service provider.

The messages came from prepaid burner phones.

You can't identify the sender.

Nonetheless, I would like the numbers.

We have them.

How many staff live here?

Myself. Victor, who's Flamel's driver.

Joseph Goldman, his business manager.

Naomi, Madame Flamel's maid.

Felix, the chef.

Do you always wear that coat in this heat?

How many years have you worked for Flamel?

Five years.

Is he a good boss?

He's an appalling boss.

How is he appalling?

The usual ways, plus a few of his own.

Has he abused you?

He once made me strip in front of him.

Why?

He accused me of stealing money from his safe in his office. I denied it. He

made me strip to prove it.

You could have refused, could have quit.

Well, it was my nice job, my nice apartment, my...

You

don't like Fumar?

Nobody likes him.

Except perhaps his mistress.

Who's his mistress?

I was told not to say.

So I won't.

Otherwise you'll lose your nice job, your nice apartment, and your boyfriend

Felix the chef.

You're good.

I, um, blush when I'm caught out.

Also when I lie.

Which is kind of annoying.

Does Fumal know about you and Felix?

Probably. He collects secrets.

Who do you think is threatening him?

Anyone he's ever done business with.

For Monsieur Fumal, a deal is only a success when the other side is left

in the gutter.

Does that include Roger Guider?

I don't know.

You're the detective.

Look, is there anything else?

I mean, this is fun, but I do have work to do.

I would like to talk to Madame Fumar.

Well, it's a bit early.

Follow me.

Naomi, uh, this... Yes, Chief Inspector Magray. Would you like to speak with

Madame Femal?

She has only just had breakfast.

Is she dressed?

Breakfast of champions.

What is it now, Naomi?

My name's May Gray.

Chief Inspector for Guard Criminal.

Has someone killed him?

No.

Someone has sent messages threatening to kill him.

You don't share a bedroom with your husband?

I don't share anything with my husband.

Why did you marry him?

Because I was enough with him.

You don't want to hear this.

I do.

If you're willing to tell me.

My father owned a chain of butcher shops in Brittany that for my whole did.

He was courting me at the same time.

Yeah, he was rich.

And charming.

I was young and pretty.

I thought he loved me.

But he was buying me.

Like I was in a shop.

My father encouraged the match.

He said it would keep us together.

But in less than a year from now, I had sold the shop, fired the staff, and put

the whole business online.

My father came here to protest.

I heard them arguing in the office.

So I said that my father was a weakling, that he had taken his business and

his daughter.

knocked down Price and he had never even put up a fight.

Then he got his thug, Victor, to throw him out.

Two weeks later, my father had a heart attack.

I'm sorry.

Why did you stay?

He threatened to cut me off without a penny and, uh...

Stop paying for the care that my father now needs.

You know, I'm like everybody else in this house.

I'm trapped by his money.

And by fear.

Monsieur Fumal has got another message.

Look. Look.

The cops won't save you, fat man.

They know about you, so they must be watching.

Do you know who it is yet?

Maygray, I'm talking to you.

Were the messages sent from the same number?

No. It was another prepaid burner phone.

Joseph Goldman.

Monsieur Fumar's business manager.

Can I have the number?

Okay, Goldilocks, get out.

You too, Creeping Jesus.

I want to have a heart -to -heart with my childhood friend.

What are you doing?

Sending a number to our crime lab.

There's got to be someone here.

I know they hate me.

They lie to my face and they steal behind my back.

Do you know that, Ferdinand?

For a fact.

I know they look down their nose at me because I came from nothing and now I

have everything.

Do I know they steal?

Well, Goldman, insider trades on the back of every one of my deals.

Celine has been nicking petty cash for years.

She has 5 ,000 euros rolled up in the left toe of her Bottega Veneta boots in

her closet, saving up so her and her boyfriend Felix can buy a bar in GM.

Felix... over orders for the kitchen, then flogs the surplus to local

restaurants. My lovely wife is drunk all day and entertains a gentleman friend

all night.

You didn't find any of this out?

You must be as bad a detective as your father was at running an estate.

He was good at his job.

He was terrible.

He was about to be fired.

When he had his stroke, saved everyone a lot of embarrassment.

Strange how our childhood idols fail us when we learn the truth.

The Countess de Sanfianca, for example, or Sophie, as she insists I call her.

Yeah.

We're friends.

And the stories I've heard about her.

Dear, oh dear.

You had a crush on her, didn't you?

I remember how she used to call.

Jules!

Jules!

And you'd come running.

Jules!

Jules!

I don't need you, you creep. Get out.

I'm not scared of this great lunk.

What are you doing?

Making a call.

Lucas, get Inspector Carver to Females.

He's to stay here until I say otherwise.

What about Roger Gaidon?

You checked him out yet?

Okay.

Meet me there.

Gaidon's a criminal.

Should have been locked up years ago.

And I can prove it.

One of my detectives will be here soon.

Any news on Layla's spinning structure, Marcus?

No. Parents know nothing.

Friends know nothing.

He's vanished into the same black hole as he has.

We are looking.

Monsieur Gayadin, have you been sending death threats to Ferdinand Simard, sir?

I'm sorry, I beg your pardon?

Death threats.

Texts.

You're going to die.

I'm going to cut you up.

No, I haven't.

Do you dislike Monsieur Femal?

Yes. He's a vile human being.

He said you were a criminal.

Of course he did.

He insults me. He bribes, blackmails my board, bullies my suppliers, and feeds

gothic to the media. My share price was halved in less than six months.

So why did he say you were a criminal?

I don't need to explain his disgusting slanders.

Not to you or anyone.

I didn't threaten him.

If I'd wanted him dead, I wouldn't send messages. I'd just walk up to him and

shoot him in the face.

Thank you for talking to us.

I'm doing detective work for you.

Layla. This is when she broke through, aged seven, lip -syncing to some of her

favourite artists.

I feel full of joy.

No wonder people loved her.

Then the brands moved in.

Still lovely, still innocent.

Next comes sex.

More pout, less smile, but she's still in control, still enjoying herself.

But then there's this.

On the fan site, they call it the dark post.

It was made two months ago, and it was deleted less than a minute after it was

recorded.

A couple of people managed to save it.

Hey, guys.

I just wanted to say that only you can judge you.

Don't be afraid to stand up.

Don't be afraid to be alone.

Love will find you.

Love is waiting.

Life really wasn't fun anymore.

Like, she was trapped, being watched all the time, judged.

She was being watched by her spinning instructor.

Marcus.

Looks like he was stalking her.

There are more photographs like this.

Lots.

Actually like this. Oh, yes. Why?

Seems kind of innocent.

Madge.

You what?

Are you sure?

Okay, okay.

I'm on my way.

Come.

Hello to you too.

I analysed the cell data from the two numbers used to send the messages.

I also got the locations they were sent from.

I suspect that, as I will soon demonstrate, the user did not know that

burner phones can now have GPS, which reveals their location.

The first threat was sent four days ago, the second the next day. But in the

same time span, three longer messages to a journalist's Twitter feed, an online

gossip column, a restaurant critic.

All anonymous. It's either attacking Roger Guider or praising Fumal.

Guider has been a total disastrous CEO. The board should welcome Fumal with open

arms. That pattern continues.

Anonymous threats against Fumal. Anonymous texts praising Fumal.

Attacking Guider.

It's weird, but it doesn't necessarily... Then you add the third

I used Fumal's own phone to track where he's been for the last four days.

All the same places.

Where he sent himself the death threats.

Thank you, Mert.

Then you have the makings of a highly profitable private security company.

And you provide the funding for this?

Seriously?

Well, well.

The great detective.

A glass of wine, Chief Inspector?

No. You sure?

Carver says you've usually had a couple by now.

I have some information.

I'd rather tell you privately.

Why? Is Goldman, Johnny, killed me?

He hasn't got the balls.

Well, come on, then. Spit it out.

Our technicians have analysed the phone numbers used to send the threats.

They have 99 % degree of certainty that you sent them yourself.

That's rubbish.

Read the notes.

In my opinion, there is no threat to you at this time, and I'm withdrawing my

team from your case.

Go on, then. Piss off.

You too, you little sponger.

Hey, he begged us to set him up with a private security company. He suggested

it. Come on, Co.

Hey, if I used to couple off, you know what I'm going to do next?

I'm buying Solfiacra, the chateau.

I made the Countess an offer.

She didn't like him, but she'll take him.

She's up to her ears in debt.

The butcher's boy.

Owner of Solfiacra.

Maybe they'll even make me a count.

Why did you ask for me, Femal? I saw you on TV because of the girl you can't

find. So I wanted to see if you were as good as they say, or if, as your loyal

subordinate says, you'd be promoted too far, too fast.

That's not the real reason, is it?

No.

No, it's not.

I wanted to see if you were still the smug little hypocrite you were back

Hypocrite? Pretending to be my friend and laughing at me up your sleeve.

You were even worse than the others.

I despised you then. I despise you now.

Get out.

Go on.

A female has an instinct for people's weaknesses.

You let him find yours and use it.

Next time, be more careful.

I'm sorry.

Yes, do you have a view?

Boss? Two of Layla's fans just broke into Marcus's apartment.

Layla's amateur sleuth.

Managed to grab the little bastard. How did they get in?

Same way we did.

Asked questions at Layla's ex -bugs class.

I thought the plan was you and the point was keep watch.

We were.

Apartment across there.

They were too quick.

Pulled up in an Uber, ran in, bust down the door before we could stop them.

Trashed the place.

Hope we're not interrupting you, Lupin.

I'm just checking the Where Is Leila Facebook page.

Yep, Marcus is on it, and his apartment.

Plus, there's a thread.

Why didn't the cops come clean about Marcus Desai?

This is out of control, boss.

What if one of these hormonal workers gets to Marcus before we do?

Madam Prosecutor, I did.

I will.

Seal this place. Priority is Marcus. We have to find him before someone else

does.

Fine. Not a problem. He's with me.

So, Mom, what do you have to say?

What did he tell you?

Many things.

Mainly that you were rude, incompetent, and out of your depth.

And you didn't even find out who was threatening him.

So that's one thing he didn't tell you.

What? He sent himself the death threats.

Why, for God's sake?

Because he thinks everyone is out to get him, and he wanted police protection.

You mean this was just paranoia?

Partly paranoia.

There is another reason.

He and I grew up in the same village.

He wants to renew an old grudge.

Didn't you think it odd that of all the detectives at the crime, he asked for

me? And there's a third reason.

He wanted to show he had power over you.

What that is and why, I don't know, and I don't care.

But I know he collects secrets.

That's how he does business.

Now, Leila Leone has been missing for nearly four days.

I don't want to waste another minute on Fumar. Wait.

Is Fumar in danger?

Only in his imagination.

You can trust him, Minister.

All right.

Thank you, Maybray.

I need your help.

The Layla case.

Madame Leone?

Prosecutor Carnival. Come in, please.

Monsieur Leone?

Have a seat.

Have you got any news for us?

I hoped I would have news, but due to the behaviour of some of Leila's fans,

police surveillance of the suspect was disrupted and... Then Marcus Desai is a

suspect? We're keen to talk to him to find out what he knows about Leila. What

does it mean, what he knows?

He knows everything. He was stalking her.

Possibly.

But because of the fans, his name and face are all over social media,

your Facebook page.

So finding him will be infinitely harder. I'm sorry about that, but her

upset. We're upset.

Our daughter... Our daughter's missing.

And the police are doing nothing.

They identified Marcus, didn't they? Yeah, okay. Is that all you've come for?

To complain about Layla's fans?

No. I would like you to call them off.

What? Like they're dogs?

They're people.

They care about her.

And if we don't call them off, what are you going to do?

I would very reluctantly prosecute you for obstructing a police investigation.

We've lost that daughter.

And you're threatening us.

You're unbelievable.

Don't touch that.

You've no right to do that. To stop you filming us without our consent, we

absolutely do.

I'm serious. Call off the fans.

Do you know what the worst case scenario is? Yeah.

We sue you.

The worst case scenario is Layla has been kidnapped.

And this publicity makes a kidnapper panic.

That's when kidnaps go wrong.

When we recover the victim not living but dead.

Please.

Do what Prosecutor Carnival is asking.

Call the fans off.

Sophie de Samphiac?

The Countess.

The Countess.

You'd better call her back. Do you want her number?

Please.

Sure.

Taffy.

You've grown up.

It happens.

Two Calvados, please.

We'll drink to the memory of your father.

He and I would always have a Calvados together when we went through the estate

accounts.

Perhaps that's why they were always so confused.

Jules, I'm joking.

Your father was always scrupulous.

But seriously, how many years is it since we last met? 20 years?

Nearly 20 years.

That's too long.

And in all that time, you've never been back to San Fiatra? No.

Thank you.

Your wife sounds nice.

Do you have children?

Not yet.

Though we've just learned she's pregnant.

Well, that's wonderful news. Now we really do have something to drink to.

Not just old times.

To your firstborn.

I wish my son would settle down and get married. You remember Maurice?

Of course.

Why are we meeting here?

And not in your apartment?

Well, you are the detective.

We're here because I'm selling the Paris apartment. It's all packing cases and

empty spaces on the wall where paintings used to hang.

Ferdinand Fumar.

He's why you wanted to see me.

Yes.

He's trying to buy San Fiacre.

You knew?

I worked with him, briefly.

He told me.

When I say trying to buy, it's more like forcing me to sell and offering me an

insultingly low price.

He said you're in debt.

Things people tell policemen.

Did he also tell you he's blackmailing me?

That's how he does his deals. He looks for weaknesses.

Well, he found mine.

I was not a saint after my husband died.

Some of my ex -lovers have evidence of my wild years.

And for Marl, well, he's willing to buy it.

For myself, I don't give a damn. But when I think about Maurice

and the Santheac rename dragged through the mud by this bully.

Sophie, are you all right?

What I don't understand is how he gets away with this behavior. How he can

harass and bribe and blackmail.

What do you want me to do?

Stop him.

Are you asking me as police?

I'm asking you as a man.

Come to beg, have you?

The answer's still no.

What did your Countess want?

My help.

Did you help?

No.

Big day tomorrow.

A heartbeat?

Boss, the police were called to Fumar's house an hour ago He's been shot