Original subtitles

What does Supercop wear?

Briefs or boxers? It's for our dad stats.

The more yellow chips a guy has, the more fertile he is.

We've taken into account age, clothing,

eating habits... - And intercourse frequency.

So far, Timothée's well ahead.

But we don't have enough data on the others.

TIMOTHÉE - DAVID - SUPERCOP

So what's Supercop, briefs?

Forget Karadec. It's not him, anyway. Enough.

OK.

He did have the biggest salary, but...

Will the others help with expenses?

What can they say? No, I haven't called.

What? You give birth in 5 months.

On maternity leave your salary drops 30% and Ludo hasn't paid since his accident.

- What? - We're in the shit.

I can't just call them and say "Yoo-hoo,

"we didn't part on great terms but I'm potentially pregnant

"with your child! Fancy changing diapers?"

That's perfect.

No.

Your mom's right, Théa. Men aren't money pumps!

They're human beings with a right to know that they may be fathers.

OK, I can't take this. I'll call them.

Incoming call: Fred

Hello.

Crime scene in Bouzy-en-Bière, 160. Last one in buys a round.

Yes! See you there!

Sorry, have to go. Work calls.

No, briefs are red, dumbo.

It's good to have a new case to keep us busy.

You don't realize,

but a colleague leaving can be brutal.

I'll be fine.

I'm thinking of the team.

Céline, Daphné, Morgane...

Yes!

Here we go!

The siren is cheating!

No, you owe me a drink. I don't cheat,

it's all down to talent.

Hey, Giles! OK?

What's today's program?

Worrying disappearance. The alarm went off in the night

and the uniforms found no sign of the owner.

- May I tell you something? - Of course.

- When we meet and you go Hey, Giles... - Giles!

- "Giles!" - Giles...

- You'd rather I called you Gilles. - Yes, that's my name.

I had this girlfriend at junior high...

Focus. Who's missing?

Antoine Broussin, 85, thriller writer.

Retired, lived here alone.

It was all ransacked and the gentleman can't be found.

Let's go, then.

Honestly. What a bad loser!

- Look at you. - Listen!

You may be 160 in your head but you're 12 at driving.

- You're the cheat! - Yeah, right!

- Admit that it was genius! - Listen to him!

Fred's nice

but he's the kind of guy who really puts himself forward...

Stop going on about it.

It's true!

Looks like they had a proper fight.

How did the attacker gain entry?

The cellar was broken into, Forensics are there.

- Who? - Forensics.

Then speak clearly, Giles.

Look, my old lady had the same ones.

He's the type to demand attention, whereas Karadec...

Stop it with Karadec now!

He left us. Move on.

- Any enemies? - Not that we know of.

Fifty years a widower, no close family.

OK. Very good.

Gilles...

You missed Karadec's farewell drink but what was wild...

That's fake.

That's it!

He's fake. And phoney.

Not him, the hearth.

See the plant? It's an annoying fern that can't stand

drafts, temperature changes

or lack of humidity

- just what you'd find next to a working fireplace. But look:

It's in great shape.

Contrary to what the poker,

ashes and logs are saying,

this fireplace doesn't work.

- OK. - Because it's...

Because it's...

Yes! Bingo. Look what I found.

A secret passage!

- He fell upon it! - No, he heard you.

No, it's just that great minds think alike.

Friends, I've found our missing man.

Come and see.

HIP HIGH INTELLECTUAL POTENTIAL

PENICILLIUM BREVICAULIS

It's a kind of panic room with our missing person inside.

I noticed it straight away.

I... I... I... !

I'm pretty proud of myself.

Me! Me! Me! Me!

The guy's so big-headed!

Honestly...

My favorite Lensois!

You OK?

- Yeah, you? - Not too sick?

- Why? - We gave you a spanking yesterday.

We have to let you win now and again.

The score was 7-2.

- You know each other? - We play soccer together.

Cause of death?

Not really.

From the rigidity, death occurred around 5 or 6am.

He has a lot of bruising to the body and face

but an autopsy will tell us if that's linked.

He paid dearly. Look.

I smell a homejacking gone wrong.

Our guy locks himself in to escape his attacker

and dies of his injuries.

What do you think?

It's possible.

And the computer?

Protected by password. I called a technician, he'll be here soon.

I'll have a try. So...

An 80-year-old guy's password?

How about 0000?

Shame.

He's a widower?

What's his wife's name?

Margot, I think.

He was married barely 2 years in the 70s.

- Fred, please don't... - Please! I'm trying.

Margot...

Yes!

Our grandpa had a video surveillance system.

There...

The alarm rang at 2am.

And there's our murderer.

Is he on drugs or what?

Blue Air Star sneakers, white stripe, and a box of Dick Dentaire.

What's that?

Marie?

You know her?

- No. - But you called her Marie!

Yes. No, she reminds me of a girl I was in jail with last year.

The inmates called her Marie Besnard.

It can't be her as 1) she's very nice

and 2) she's in jail.

Marie Besnard like the famous poisoner?

- Oh? - Yes.

Yeah, but nicknames in jail are mental. I was known as Ginger.

Giles, look into that girl. Action now. Efficient.

- Of course. - OK.

And quickly, if she's on the run we'll lose her.

I've had enough.

You've reached Major Timothée Guichard,

advisor to the Ministry of the Interior.

Wow. Well done!

Special advisor sounds pretty chic.

It's Morgane!

I was thinking I I hadn't heard from you in a while, so...

And it gave me a chance to talk to you about something.

So if you could call me back,

that'd be great and... bye.

Yeah, it's David. Your turn.

Yeah, David, it's Morgane!

Just asking how you are. And I've something to tell you,

so if you could call me that'd be great.

Is that OK? Bye now.

- Hey, pet. - Oh fuck!

Don't move. We need to talk.

Wait, I feel you're about to do something stupid.

Shut up, I said!

There's a camera at the entrance to the house.

I want you to burn the tape.

Burn the tape?

Yeah, sure I'll burn it.

I don't know if that'll help you any,

because we've gone digital and my colleagues spotted you.

Don't tell me you ratted me out!

No way! I mean... We're sisters from hell.

It's life and death, right?

No. It just so happens there's this thing called

facial recognition

and the cops happen to be at the cutting edge!

You gotta help me. I won't go back inside.

Why kill a poor old man for nothing?

Put that down, you'll hurt someone.

- I didn't kill anyone. - If you didn't, who did?

I don't know! The alarm went off and I left.

Here's some advice for next time:

To remain incognito, keep your hood on till you leave!

I couldn't breathe through the thick wool!

No wonder, it's a support stocking! Where d'you find it?

At the old man's. Why?

- Nice hair. - Thanks!

- You've cut your hair? - You noticed.

- Shorter, right? - Right.

A homicide case has been opened.

Well played, panic room.

Thanks.

No, it wasn't you.

Morgane discovered the incredible secret passage.

You know why?

There was a fern there.

She saw that the fern's humidity was higher than normal...

OK, Giles.

It is indeed teamwork, is that what you mean?

- I heard you identified a suspect. - Indeed.

No.

Morgane did.

Watching the video,

she said "I know her!"

"Yes, she was my cellmate in prison."

Quite, Giles.

I'm sure Morgane could have done without the reminder.

Great. Shall we move on?

Awkward!

The suspect's name is Marie Boucher.

She was sentenced to 30 years' imprisonment in 94

for poisoning two husbands. She was released 5 days ago.

A reoffender.

Call the cavalry.

We're progressing.

Gilles, contact the family.

Daphné appeal for witnesses.

Guys, it was an accident!

The old man bruised himself. No one beat him up.

We've an emergency, 160.

The old man wore support stockings.

Why? Because he had phlebitis.

You know, those little clots that form in your legs.

When you get phlebitis, the doctor gives you an anticoagulant.

Only thing is, bump into anything and you get a bruise!

So, fall over and you look like Rocky Balboa after a bout!

- You mean no one hit the victim? - No!

The guy busted his head on his carpet!

I'll explain.

Look...

The corner of the carpet is upturned. Why?

Because Granddad got his foot caught in it.

So, just imagine...

The alarm sounds. Dring!!

The old guy wakes with a start.

He gets up, crosses the lounge then stumbles over the carpet.

- Yes, I see. - In his fall,

he tries to stop himself

by grasping at the bookcase which falls on him.

And on the ground,

totally in a daze,

covered in bruises,

he crawls to his panic room

and locks himself in...

Wait, I'm missing something. Marie Boucher's in the clear

because Morgane found pantyhose in the house?

A support stocking!

- Same thing. - No it's not.

Pardon, Giles?

- Didn't you listen? - I don't get it.

That was Bonnemain. Morgane's right, he wasn't beaten.

It's an accident.

A poisoning.

They found arsenic in his blood.

Poisoning?

Like your girlfriend's victims?

Issue a murder warrant.

I'm on it.

We're looking for a Marie Boucher. Sixties, gray hair, glasses...

Hang on, we're wallowing in prejudice.

Just because she poisoned a few in her youth

it doesn't mean it's her.

B-O-U-C-H-E-R. Boucher, Marie.

And what about the motive? What could it be?

"Quick! Send me back to jail, it was great!"

No. It doesn't fit.

So... no?

A reoffender, potentially dangerous.

What do I find? The old guy's bank card statement.

Well, 48 hours before he died, he went shopping.

I bet the psychopathic caterer

sent him arsenic ravioli.

There is no psycho caterer. He just bought batteries.

- Batteries? - Yes. LR20s.

Hang on, LR20s is suspicious.

Last time I used them (in my portable record player) I was 8.

So LR20s are suspicious.

No?

Margot & Antoine July 74

Hey, this was at the crime scene!

That's why he needed his LR20s.

"Margot & Antoine".

Did anyone listen to the cassette?

OK. So I'll listen.

Hello, my angel. I still don't know if you're a girl or a boy...

I can feel you moving in my belly.

I wanted to tell you a beautiful story before it leaves my head.

Your father and lived in a big house full of stories and mysteries.

In fact, I've just found a beautiful old curtain in the attic

with which I'm going to line your crib...

Gilles,

didn't you say the old guy had no family?

No, in fact. He had a child in 1974.

He died a few months later, same year as his mother.

- That's horrible! - It is tough.

Yes, I'm here.

You should know that your father specializes in mysteries.

Yes, he writes mystery novels.

And that's how we met.

He wanted to finish his novel and didn't have time to clean anymore,

so he hired me.

That's right, your mom was a cleaning lady!

But I didn't fall in love with him right away.

He was a very fussy kind of boss.

Margot?

You OK?

Yes, yes.

- Morgane... - What?

- Will you give me your all? - Sure.

1 new message from DAVID

Got your message.

Working in the park this afternoon.

Catch me on my break.

OK.

Where was I? Oh, yes.

Your father was so fussy.

He had his own way of folding ties,

his own way of ironing shirts.

One thing he hated most of all...

was when people touched his papers.

What are you doing?

I expressly asked you not to do the office.

Your last book? Not bad.

You read my manuscript?

I don't believe it!

I pay you to clean, not to rummage around.

Relax. I said it wasn't bad.

- I'm very relaxed. - But it does need work, because...

you can tell Boris did it from miles away!

You've got a cheek. And there's ash on the page.

- Oh, chill. - That's enough. You're fired.

OK.

And why Boris, anyway? The end isn't written.

Sorry, but the stain on his shoe, page 7,

the dog howling at him on page 22

and his father supposedly in America,

it doesn't take Columbo!

You know what? You won't fire me. I resign.

Be my guest.

- There. - Don't mind me.

What if I fired the uncle from America?

Yes. It'd be a good start.

You should have seen him, so offended I'd found his culprit,

I thought he'd never get over it.

Hi.

Hi.

I'm sorry.

Do sit down.

With pleasure. You look well.

Yes. It's the hormones.

I'm pregnant.

- Oh yes. - Oh yes.

Oh, OK.

So if I'm here...

One-in-three chance.

OK.

What do you intend to do?

In England, they have doctors...

No. Definitely not. I'm keeping it.

OK.

Then just so it's clear,

I'm on probation right now.

My job's picking up crap for 9 an hour.

So I'm not really in dad mode, if you see what I mean.

Relax. I'm not asking you to marry me.

I just wanted to be sure you didn't want the job.

- Not really. - There.

So now we know.

- I have to go. - Yeah.

My boss will bend my ear if I'm late.

If it's mine, give me a call.

Yeah.

I'll do that.

Right.

Be seeing you.

At least I won't need a DNA test!

You've reached Major Timothée Guichard,

advisor to the Ministry of the Interior.

Yes, it's me again.

I left several messages but you haven't called

so I'll leave another.

Can you call me, please?

Bye now!

- Yoo-hoo. - Fuck!

A man who won't call doesn't deserve you.

Stop following me. It freaks me out!

Then stop stringing me along. Did you forget me?

I haven't forgotten you.

It turns out our victim was zapped with arsenic.

Given your serial poisoner profile, you started flashing!

But I've a lead.

His wife and kid died in the house 50 years ago.

I think it's linked to what happened to him.

The thing is, you've got to stop threatening me every two minutes!

I don't like people who don't pay their debts.

So watch it!

Can I sleep at your place?

No! Out of the question.

Shoo! Pick up your things and off you pop!

I'm not a rehabilitation center.

Don't push your luck!

Call me if it changes. OK, thanks.

Look, I know Fred's not been here long but

don't you find him pretty... - Sexy?

Yeah. I think so too.

No. He has a certain...

You're doing a Gilles.

What?

- You tend not to like newbies. - Not at all.

Oh, but still.

You weren't nice when Timothée arrived.

And you didn't welcome Morgane with open arms.

Yeah?

You have other qualities.

You think I should apologize?

That's between you and your karma.

Fred...

I called Marie Boucher's probation officer...

A minute, please...

I'm concentrating.

I also called all the airports in case she leaves town...

- No result. - OK, great. Thanks.

And I wanted to say...

I wasn't very nice at first

but I'm going to make an effort.

And if you want to call me Giles,

I don't mind.

Thank you. It's great to question yourself.

The DA's impatient. Where are you with the fugitive?

I called her probation officer

and also the airports in case she tries to escape.

Nothing for now

but we're progressing. - OK. How about you, Gilles?

I... No.

Gilles, what's wrong?

It's best you get back to work.

We've a murderer on the run.

Come on, cheer up.

That's done...

Then it's...

What's up?

You OK?

Yeah.

Work, work.

Watch out, the desk's behind you.

So that's...

And then there's this...

DA's office. 3 months ago, the victim applied to exhume his wife and son.

It was rejected but it's strange, isn't it?

Your father was so upset that I found his culprit,

I thought he'd never get over it.

Fortunately the story didn't end there

and he went right back to writing.

Joséphine with the candlestick.

Jean-Luc the gimp.

Diane.

Robert.

Sidonie.

Sébastien, under Michel's influence.

Gaëtan, with the twins' help.

The broken glass!

You won't find it this time, for sure.

Everything is watertight.

It's my masterpiece.

Well done. No idea.

- You're sure? - Yes.

You may not have noticed a clue early in chapter 4.

When Jeanne questions Evelyne, she mentions...

We don't care about Jeanne and Evelyne.

Don't you think?

- A little. - There.

And that's how your father fell in love with me.

What are you doing with my recorder?

I'm making memories for our baby.

See what I found in the attic. It'll look pretty on the crib.

Lovely!

- Mmm. You've eaten garlic. - No, I don't think so.

Thank you!

Great. You lead the interrogation. - Sure.

Stop! Quits!

Marie didn't waste our old man.

And I can prove it.

It's a triple murder!

The same murderer killed his wife and son, then him yesterday.

His wife and son? What's she talking about?

- I don't know. - I'll explain.

In 1974,

the old man's wife and son died. The doctors back then

called it pneumonia. My arse. They were poisoned by arsenic.

How do you know it was arsenic?

Because she stank.

She did. She stank.

I'll play you the cassette.

It'd look pretty on the crib.

You'll see. In a moment.

Have you eaten garlic?

Garlic breath!

Typical of arsenic poisoning.

Arsenic is odorless, but once in the stomach

it encounters methyl molecules

and is transformed into trimethylarsine,

which smells a lot like garlic.

Why wouldn't she have just eaten garlic?

Well, she didn't just eat garlic, because if she had,

she wouldn't have those little white streaks on her fingernails! Look...

The spots. These are called Mees lines,

seen on people in areas polluted by arsenic.

- His wife and son were poisoned. - Yes.

Which is why he wanted to exhume them. He suspected.

Exactly! But he was killed before he could talk.

- Very interesting. - Yes!

Very interesting, Morgane.

Tell the DA we suspect Marie Boucher of a triple homicide.

What? You weren't listening. I proved it couldn't be her.

Not really.

You said there were two other poisonings in Bouzy in 1974.

And your chum lived here from 55 to 75.

She was the victim's neighbor.

Incredible!

That's fishy, because she never told me.

But that's not the question.

Why would she kill a woman and her baby?

We can ask her. The uniforms found her sleeping in a park.

Here she is now...

What have you done?

So,

which murder shall we begin with?

I'm listening.

OK.

Let's take it chronologically.

Margot Broussin

and her baby, Paul.

Does that ring a bell?

Don't know her.

Incredible.

And Antoine Broussin?

No? What were you doing at his home when he died?

As I told your colleagues,

I was passing and had nowhere to sleep.

- So just by chance. - That's right.

It's crazy what chance gets up to.

His wife and son were poisoned

when you were living nearby.

And 50 years later, you happen by

and bang! it's his turn.

Incredible.

Make an effort, Marie...

- I swear, what a dickhead! - Yeah!

OK.

I wasn't there for a couch.

I didn't kill him, though.

I just wanted to nick a few things.

He invited me round for a chat that morning.

Invited you for a chat? What is this crap?

What?!

You're saying you dropped in for a chat.

Yes. He wanted to talk about his house and the two robbers.

Wait, sorry, I didn't get that. There are two robbers now?

Yes.

One died in there.

My bullshit detector. Sorry, but...

Not yesterday.

- Before he bought the house. - And?

I lived close by when I was small.

He wanted to ask me

if his house was dangerous.

So we've two robbers and a killer house?

This robber stuff is suspicious.

You've a fertile imagination. This is Harry Potter.

Did anyone else die in this house?

I don't know.

FATAL ROBBERIES

- OK, I'll check. - No, it's not a good idea...

It's not a good idea! No...

So, Alvaro method.

Think about it. Try get your mate out of there.

Why was our victim asking about these robbers before he died?

Death at the manor

Police report

I didn't kill him. It wasn't me!

Cut the crap. You wanted all the loot for yourself!

I'd never do that.

Alban was like a brother.

More than a brother.

So what happened?

It was all my fault. Alban was methodical.

He'd been planning for months. Down to the last second.

And I blew it.

Wait for my signal, we said.

Why the fuck are you so unmanageable?

I didn't know half the police force was in the bar.

- You can't read? It's in my notes. - Oh, them...

You've no gloves.

What about fucking fingerprints?!

Will you stop your shouting?

There's a way out to the rear if we beat the police.

Maybe they'll forget about it if we surrender.

- No! - A sin confessed is half-forgiven!

Sounds like your sister! Who foisted these jerks on me!

You're surrounded! Drop your weapons!

- Meet at the car. - Get a move on!

Come on, hurry!

- I'll catch you up. - No.

Are you wounded? Oh shit!

Come on, I can't leave you here.

The two others managed to get away.

But Alban was losing blood.

We saw this old building

and decided to hide there until he was better.

I'm sorry about yesterday.

I can't help making a fuss.

It's my fault.

I shouldn't have taken you on this job.

Then why did you?

I don't know.

Wait!

Let me help.

Mom was a nurse in the war. I know my stuff.

Let's have a look.

The bullet went through, it should heal easily.

I'll put a dressing on.

- Did that hurt? - Not a bit.

What are you doing?

Well, hi kid.

We're hiding because the bad guys want to kill us.

If anyone asks, say nothing.

No one will come looking.

People stay away

because of the Green Lady. But I'm not scared.

She'll turn us in. Kill her.

- Are you mad? - Kill her.

You do it, then!

- What's your name? - Marie.

That's a pretty name.

That looks tasty.

- You want some? - Yeah!

That'll be 1000 francs.

She's sharp!

You know what? I've only 10.

- Am I good for the rest? - OK.

Marie, could you find us something else to eat?

Yes.

That's wonderful.

It's her!

What's going on?

The Green Lady.

She's choking me.

No, don't worry,

they're just silly ghost stories.

Oh boy, you're freezing.

Wait. Let me see...

No, I don't understand, you're healing nicely.

Look, go back to sleep.

You've had a nightmare, go back to sleep.

Marie?

The Green Lady has taken him.

What are you on about...?

Alban? Alban!

Alban!

Marie, who is the Green Lady?

Are you mad? I have a weak heart.

Answer the question. Who is the Green Lady?

The girl in the painting.

The one you talked to the robbers about. Who is it?

The one who haunts the place?

She died there.

And she kills anyone who enters.

Now you tell me?!

You never asked.

Marie, up you get.

- What are you doing here? - Me? What am I doing here?

Watching our detainee.

Maybe appearances don't help,

but you're making a big mistake.

What's the deal? A ferny intuition,

a manicure revelation?

No, but there are plenty of files

on the history of the house in the panic room.

Our old man wasn't just investigating the death of his son and wife,

he was gathering as much information as possible about the house.

He thought there was a link

between his home and the death of his family.

Stop. You're saying you went to the crime scene without my permission?

- Yes, but who cares... - Who do you think you are?!

Me? Who do you think YOU are?!

Are you thick?

You'd send the wrong person to jail?

Look, 160, I'm sorry your mate did a bunk,

I'm not your boyfriend or your friend, I'm your boss!

So dial it back or you're on report!

Got it? What? What is it?

- Go on... - Fuck off and die, dickhead!

Move!

Wake up, this isn't a hotel.

Move it!

You'll see my 160!

See if I calm down. I'll sort out this investigation in no time.

What did you find out about the Green Lady, old man?

"Diary". Oh, spicy!

September 16, 1885,

a year since Monsieur's death.

Despite her debts, Madame Marguerite is not giving up.

She's holding a salon tonight to find the man who'll save the estate.

But she's very upset that she can't afford a new outfit.

The last of your mother's dresses from the attic!

They're a little worn but I can fix them.

Oh, it's all old stuff!

Awful!

Depressing!

This one's pretty; it'd suit you.

Pretty? Under Napoleon, maybe!

Should I find myself a bedridden husband?

Oh no.

It lacks... I don't know, color, extravagance!

I've got an idea.

How about leopard! No?

Now that'd be daring!

Leopard, Madame?

While I live, you won't wear wild animal!

Here... green!

Yes, green's perfect. Doesn't it suit me?

And look... Like this? Or maybe just like this.

Run fetch your dressmaking needs!

I certainly shall. And I shall rejoice!

When money is short, ideas must be long!

September 18th. Madame caused a sensation in her new dress.

The wealthy Duc de Roubaix courted her.

But as usual, she did as she pleased...

I must invite you to my villa in Saint-Honoré-les-Bains.

And show you my mansion in the capital.

You like opera, I imagine.

Do you know who that tall gentleman is?

Marquis de Quiberon?

A penniless nobleman who squandered

his remaining fortune on medical research.

He claims

we're surrounded by invisible little organisms

that try to make us sick,

and that he's able to protect us from them.

So of course I tried to buy his discovery,

but the fool refused... He'd rather eat rocks.

Hold this, please. I'll be right back.

Sir!

Is my drink that bad?

Sorry, it's not your cognac.

It's the germs.

The germs?

Yes. I think... I believe alcohol can eliminate some.

You believe there's an invisible world around us?

Yes, that's my hypothesis.

Even if technically they're more tiny than invisible.

I think with a powerful enough lens, we could even see them.

Intriguing!

Well, I feel the same.

- Sorry? - I feel invisible tonight.

To your eyes, I mean.

Sorry. I've been very rude.

Auguste of Quibéron.

Medical researcher and poor guest.

- Milk? - Yes.

Protect it from the air after heating and it won't sour.

Let's say your little creatures are all around us.

You really think such tiny things could kill us?

I'm sure of it.

Though I think small doses could be useful.

- Really? - Yes.

My theory is this:

I believe each of us carries these little organisms...

- No! - Yes.

We exchange millions with every contact.

- Every contact? - Absolutely.

A handshake, a sneeze...

A breath...

A kiss?

Yes... A kiss.

November 15.

Madame and the Marquis are inseparable.

She is happier than ever.

I worry about the debts she hides from Mr de Quiberon.

Carry on, it interests me.

The infectious agent of rabies is systematically fatal.

I think that by inoculating ourselves with an attenuated version,

we could protect ourselves. - No, really?

- At any rate, it's more than probable. - Show me.

Look...

How well you draw!

But the creditors are impatient.

A solution must be found

or Mme Marguerite must marry another.

So we have a result.

I can see a solution...

The smelly old man?

Marguerite...

You won't regret it.

I have another.

Not a word to Auguste. Swear it.

I so swear.

- Should I count it? - No, I trust you.

Thank you.

Marguerite!

What have you done?

May 14. Monsieur has left for good.

For months now, Madame has written him unanswered letters.

Grief gnaws at her.

August 23. It's been over two years since the Marquis left.

Since news of his marriage,

Marguerite wears the dress she wore when they met

and refuses to eat.

Auguste!

That's enough, Madame.

You must get up now. It's late.

The sun is shining brightly. Madame...

October 4th. It's terrible...

Madame?

Madame Marguerite is no more...

Madame?

Madame, please...

What are you up to, Morgane?

You've a list of priors as long as my arm.

You've a motive.

We can see you on CCTV.

You seriously think a jury will believe you

if you keep your mouth shut? Well, Marie?

So you see, the best strategy for you right now is to confess.

And if you cooperate with the judge,

you might get out of jail before you're 90.

- You'll croak in prison, Marie... - She'll crack...

Are you sure? Gilles!

That doesn't fit our hypotheses at all.

Right. OK, thanks.

That was the lab.

No trace of arsenic in Antoine's stomach.

But loads in his lungs,

as if it wasn't ingested but inhaled.

But doesn't that fit the suspect's MO.

Inhaled how?

I don't know, as if the air in the house was poisoned.

Poisoned?

Hidden in our homes, this mold used to be a real terror...

Nestling in curtains, drapes and bedding,

it killed thousands in the 19th century.

By digesting the pigments contained in these fabrics,

Penicillium brevicaulis secretly secretes arsenic.

Look what I found in the attic.

Wouldn't it look nice around the crib?

Here, I found this.

It should keep you warm.

Gilberte, I'm not sure which side.

This side or that side?

To your left, Madame.

Very well.

Do hurry up, Gilberte!

I'm going as fast as I can.

Oh, I understand...

Madame, please.

No, Madame!

Alban!

He died a few months later, same year as his mother.

Karadec, what are you doing here?

Up you get, Morgane!

You're in danger. Get out now.

No, no, no. I want to stay with you.

You're losing consciousness.

No!

Forget me now.

No!

Morgane!

Morgane!!!

Morgane!!

Gilles...

I've...

Hello?

I need an ambulance right away.

So all these people were killed by mold?

Yes. Peni... peni...?

Wait. Penici...

No. Penicillium?...

Penicillium brevicaulis.

It's a mold found on the walls of old houses.

The fungus itself is harmless

but it attacks 19th-century fabrics,

a time when arsenic was used in pigments, especially green.

So the fungus attacks the arsenic,

digests it and releases it as arsine, a highly toxic gas.

The concentration can quickly become lethal.

That's what I was saying.

Especially if contaminated fabrics are used to line cribs,

serve as blankets or make dresses.

And the latest victim, Antoine Broussin?

When his alarm went off, he took refuge in his panic room.

A 12-square-meter room, hermetically sealed,

that had contained fabrics for years,

he reached the lethal dose in hours... - Exactly!

A serial killer fungus, amazing.

I was right to... I mean, good thing we dug.

Great teamwork, eh?

Absolutely. Well, I'm going to release our suspect and...

Giles, write up the charge as soon as possible, OK?

Yes...

Excuse me.

Gilles, I know that you never see bad in anyone.

- You should beware of Fred... - But I know!

Hush... No, trust me on this.

I'll explain later but I don't trust him.

Look after her, won't you? Thank you.

That was the hospital. Morgane's well.

And the baby?

What baby?

Your lasagne was good.

Of course. I set the bar high.

One lasagne for our survivor.

You almost died, but at least Ludo let you have the sofa.

How dare you. Who made the lasagne?

- Thank you. - I know, you did.

So thanks to ?

Thank you, Ludo!

Well, while you risked your life for free,

our little investigation has progressed.

And it turns out that Timothée is three chips ahead.

You know, our yellow and red chips?

Did he call you back? Maybe you called him back?

Mom, are you okay? Shall I call the doctor?

No, no, I'm sorry. I'm just tired.

Don't worry. We'll talk later, it can wait.

Your lasagne's great.

Forget me, Morgane.

Hello?

Hello, pet!

Thanks for the help.

Marie? You had a cell phone all this time?

Yeah.

Don't worry, I'll see to that other dickhead.

Wait, Marie. Which other dickhead?

Die, dickhead!

Subtitles by Mark Goodwin for VECTRACOM