Original subtitles

THE MAN WITH THE LEAD STOMACH

Today is

doubly splendid, as I meet my friend.

Monsieur de la Borde.

May I ask what other pleasure you evoke?

I like the smell of the stage. And its proximity.

Its proximity or its crowds?

Indeed, I admit it.

I come to admire a tender and gracious object.

We shall see her soon. On stage.

Nicolas , what's wrong?

Your taste in women usually runs

to more attractive persons.

- Do you know who it is? - Not at all.

Princess Ad�la�de is loved and loves to be loved.

Are they her chaperones?

Count and Countess de Ruissec.

Old military nobility, severe,

devout and drivelling.

They belong

to the entourage of the queen and the dauphin. Says it all.

Your friend Sartine is here too. Our chief of police.

Always watching over the family

of our King Louis XV.

Something terrible has happened to our son.

You do not recognise me?

Be assured, your Highness, we will ensure

they are accompanied home and the affair settled discreetly.

However, certain observations must be carried out.

Commissaire Le Floch, here,

will accompany me.

We know him. My father holds him in high esteem.

Sir,

we bid you soothe

our friends' distress. Do not worry about me.

Do what must be done.

Commissaire.

I suppose your great friend, Mr de la Borde,

will have told you about Count de Ruissec.

Mr de la Borde?

Do not play games.

I saw you conversing.

What he said indicates he does not hold de Ruissec in high regard.

Nor does His Majesty.

But the fellow has been useful

to various people.

Army Commissioner. From the devout clan.

The countess?

- What can you tell me? - The countess?

Gently, Commissaire. Don't get carried away.

This case will demand wisdom and tact.

And nimble diplomacy.

Countess de Ruissec deserves concern worthy of her rank.

For that, you will have to enlighten me.

It is not my job to enlighten you.

The facts alone

will do that.

I want you to be free from all suggestion.

Free to gather your first intuition.

Take me to my son's chamber and make your report.

Sir, around 9 o'clock,

I had just taken logs to your apartments

and had gone back down.

As is custom, I was reading the Holy Scriptures in the kitchen.

Then?

The viscount came up.

I heard the door to his room close,

the key grate in the lock,

then there was a shot. - A shot?

Are you sure?

My butler is a former soldier.

He served in my regiment.

He has perfect hearing and knows what he's talking about.

Carry on, Picard.

I hurried there but found the door locked.

I called, there was no reply.

Can we force it open?

Commissaire.

Find a way to open or break down this door.

We are waiting.

To hear is to obey. I have the solution.

A thieves' picklock comes to the aid of the police?

I will not have it, sir.

This is my house and my son...

Sir, please let the magistrates proceed.

Who are you to give me orders?

Sartine!

Sartine.

The name reeks of a grocery.

A little magistrate fresh out of his commoner's lot.

Little magistrate, indeed.

Whose orders come from the king.

The king! It's all I ever hear.

Do you find fault with His Majesty, sir?

I would never dream of it.

I will tolerate nothing against the law.

I promised to be discreet, but that is my only promise.

As for your insults, sir,

but for the dignity of my office and a royal censure,

I would demand satisfaction.

Monsieur de Sartine!

The best thing you can do

is go to your apartments until you are sent for.

The torso wound hasn't bled. It was inflicted post mortem.

And there is this...

A toothless old man?

- Some dreadful old man? - No, sir.

The late, young, Count de Ruissec.

Young? With such a face? How can that be?

What are you doing here?

I am Lambert, the viscount's manservant.

Does that entitle you to wear stockings

and no shoes?

I was sleeping when I heard a noise.

So you dressed and hurried here straight away?

In your haste to help, you did not don your shoes?

You know your master is dead?

Dead?

The poor wretch kept his word.

Wretch?

He had been disgusted for days.

Sick of love, of gambling...

Or both.

Disgust? Why?

I do not know, sir.

Wait in the corridor.

Odd dilemma, don't you think?

A choice between the infamy of suicide, and homicide,

equally so.

The family is known. News travels fast.

There's already a rumour in town.

Soon it will reach the court. We must protect the king.

- The king? - Since the attack

on his person by that wretch Damien,

the monarch's natural morbidity is fuelled by everything.

Fed by everything...

out of all proportion.

We must preserve his mind from noxious fumes.

The viscount was murdered.

Do what it takes to make sure.

The body must be taken from his family

to the Ch�telet to be examined.

Then go ahead, Commissaire.

Since when do your extravagances require my blessing?

You are commissaire and magistrate. Both will take the case.

I leave it to you.

And I leave you. I have no further interest.

I go to Versailles to warn Mr de Saint-Florentin.

To prime the weak barrage of my influence

against Ruissec's storms.

The fellow is one of those whose rank is to be feared.

Left-handed.

Nicolas!

Yes, Bourdeau.

Do we know the old man's identity?

He was only 22, and until his recent death,

was an officer in the royal guard and set for a grand career.

The man shot left-handed.

Yes.

I had noticed.

Call our men.

We shall have to take away the body.

I doubt the family will consent.

We must act promptly so as not to resort to force.

Finish the observations and seal the room.

I shall keep the enemy busy.

There he is,

his master's dog,

lost in contemplation of an image that parodies life.

Yet it decorates your salon.

I acquired it from a ruined partisan, fond of such illusion.

I'd just as soon cover them with paintings or tapestries.

One last time, I order you to let me see my son.

Sir...

I must inform you that his body has been taken from this house

and carried away for investigation.

Does this mean you intend to open his body?

To my great regret,

it may be necessary to establish the truth.

The truth!

What truth do you hope to find?

My son shot himself in a double-locked room.

You yourself unlocked it.

Why torture a poor lifeless body?

Perhaps to show your son was wounded cleaning his gun.

This would avoid the disgrace of suicide.

You are lying.

Your voice betrays your incredulity.

And your honour preserved.

Honour?

How dare you pronounce that word?

Who are you to talk to me of honour?

Only those with honour may talk of it.

How dare you, sir...

What's this?

Your signet ring. How can this be?

Why do you bear the arms of my old friend?

Your old friend is dead.

From him I hold the blood and chevrons of the Ranreuils.

I advise you to weigh your words.

So...

The fruit of sin delights in such abject occupations.

What does it matter?

It is the madness of the age.

An age where sons turn against their fathers.

Where aspiring to good leads to wallowing in evil.

Leave, sir. I know what I must do.

Sweet Catherine.

Thy chin descends two-fold upon thy breast.

What was that, my boy?

Nothing.

Just a remembered line from the great Boileau.

I dropped off waiting for you.

Every night I tell you not to wait up.

You must be hungry!

I have a meat pie

and a bottle begun by Mr de Noblecourt before retiring.

He ate very well.

He always does when his gout leaves him in peace.

"Come tomorrow at 4 o'clock to the Church of Carmes."

"Someone will be waiting"

"who would benefit from your wisdom."

A Blavet sonata.

First flute at the Acad�mie.

May the best man win.

I'm reduced to the difficult and dangerous task

of sight-reading for traps.

But you, sir,

have the look of a pointer on a hunt.

The de Ruissec case,

no doubt?

How do you know?

Paris is but a village, my young friend.

The court and the town are teeming with rumours.

And my former role as King's Prosecutor

opened plenty of doors

and made me privy to plenty of confidences.

Catherine! My morning feast.

And the same for our Nicolas.

What do you know of Count de Ruissec?

Don't trust the facade of an old man,

buttressed by certainties and delusions of honour.

Though he is known for his courage,

he was hard and cruel with his soldiers.

As usual,

you have the right to a frothy chocolate.

And piping hot loaves,

fresh from the oven. - And me?

You? The doctors consented

to a few prunes stewed in their juice

and a large glass of medicinal sage tea.

She could return. Any excuse would do.

Ruissec acquired his general's rank from his wife's dowry.

Before marrying the countess, he was a scrawny squire

with no gold but for his coat-of-arms.

But the rumours of plunder hampered him

and he didn't achieve the offices

to which he aspired. - Rumours?

His detractors claimed he fiddled

on everything.

Clothing, fodder, flour...

Even cannon powder and lead for bullets.

Lead for bullets?

Lead for bullets,

which was behind that awful Langremont affair.

I was army prosecutor then.

Langremont.

Jean de Langremont.

Old Occitan nobility.

A feared moneylender.

A skilled horseman.

One of the most brilliant and promising officers.

A man of total integrity.

Monsieur de Ruissec.

Oddly dressed for reporting to your general.

Do you at least bring good news?

Good news?

Our troops are defeated by your fault.

Defeated?

Defeated.

The enemy was too strong.

By my fault?

Or yours?

You call that lead?

Our bullets do not carry.

When they do, they do not penetrate.

What do you say, sir?

What do you say, Monsieur de Ruissec?

This man is a traitor.

Prosecutor...

Have him taken away.

His cause was already lost.

I could do nothing to defend him.

Langremont was hanged on the spot as a mark of infamy.

What about the lead?

It was later proved

that the lead was adulterated

and de Ruissec had been making vast profits.

That's how he bought his house,

in very suspicious circumstances,

from a partisan he had pushed to bankruptcy.

Many reasons to hate him.

And now, tired and fighting old age,

he is secretly involved in finance and speculation.

But he is in the king's outer circle.

- As for his sons... - Sons?

Two souls without qualities, conceived without pleasure.

Sons? He has several sons?

You didn't know the viscount had a younger brother?

So I am of use!

The vidame Gilles de Ruissec, long promised

to the Church. A gambler.

A taste for the seedy life, one imagines.

Desperado or pervert? That is the question.

Watch where you step, Nicolas.

These devout rebels are the worst kind.

Take precautions.

And do not act alone,

as you tend to do too often.

See what I mean?

Honestly!

So early in the day!

Inspector Bourdeau wants to see you urgently.

Did Sartine say what he wanted?

No. He simply bid me have you appear before him.

This note was passed to me by the Countess de Ruissec.

- The Church of Carmes? - We must go.

Ask Rabouine to lunch at Mother Morel's.

Very well.

Did you know the viscount had a brother?

Find the vidame Gilles de Ruissec.

Don't detain him. Find out about him

and the place he stays.

And envy my dangerous task of facing Sartine at dawn.

Let me introduce the Baron van Eyck,

Bavarian minister in Paris,

who has need of our help.

Yours, in particular.

It concerns a smuggling case.

A tangle that, I am sure,

you will unravel.

Our case is being hushed up.

Sartine has given me a case of interest to Bavaria.

The case is closed?

No. But they're sticking spokes in our wheels.

What kind of Bavarian case?

Some story about smuggling, a comical affair.

But I had to oblige Mr de Choiseul.

The king's minster?

An important case.

A case that was quickly resolved.

I have only to write the report.

Mother Morel.

Could you serve us that sumptuous Sancerre

whose secret comes from your cousin?

You know I don't have that right, Commissaire.

I reserved for you two plates, not knowing whether I'd see you.

- Lamb's liver soup. - With a piece of steak?

Indeed! A very tasty piece at that.

Second, I've cooked you seasoned slices of pig's liver

in fatty bacon with a dash of white wine.

Perfect.

Our action has been slowed.

But what about the Church of Carmes?

It is very impolite

and uncurious not to heed a refined lady's rendezvous.

Two failings incompatible with my position.

Lack of perspicacity and scorn of accuracy.

I haven't seen Rabouine. Did you not contact him?

Have pity, my Lord, on poor Rabouine

and his offspring.

Did Bourdeau tell you everything?

Your will shall be done.

To the letter. Use assistants.

Yes, my Lord.

- Is the child his? - Probably not.

Some wretch kidnapped as a child for a life of begging.

And who, like Rabouine, is an auxiliary policeman.

Mr de Sartine is right.

The Great Architect's laws sometimes digress diagonally.

Paris is manure on which the flies teem.

Some are timely.

Others are indispensable.

Thank you.

You still intend to open the body?

More than ever. I sent word to Sanson.

We'll meet at the Ch�telet jail.

You're invited too.

Knowing your delicate nose,

don't forget to bring your pipe.

The Countess de Ruissec!

Whatever your secret, you've taken it with you.

A complimentary ticket.

Report.

At 4 o'clock, a carriage arrived.

An old woman got out and entered the church.

The coachman?

He didn't wait.

Then a grand lady left the church.

Young, pale face, wearing blue spectacles.

- The child tailed her. - Child?

Don't worry, my Lord. He commands a whole band

and blends into the crowd.

And this child doesn't let go.

Thank you, my Lord.

A complimentary ticket from an actress

addressed to the late viscount.

No doubt the countess was to give it to me.

An actress?

La Bicheli�re, from the Com�die-Italienne.

The countess died from a violent blow

on the side of her neck.

I quickly had the same painful experience,

but with a less deadly fate.

The stakes must be high

to attack an officer of the king.

The wretch must have lost consciousness.

Plague of a world where questioning is a means of justice.

And where suffering presages even greater horrors.

Even if one has finally surmounted one's disgust,

convinced that one's occupation can shake one's compassion...

Commissaire.

It's not customary to shake the executioner's hand.

I have no prejudices. Is our homicide still here?

I feared it may have been taken.

Scemacgus, my friend!

Given the importance of the case,

I'll conjugate my powers

with those of your friend, whose knowledge of anatomy

is authoritative.

You are quite right.

Experience sustained by learning.

What do you think, Scemacgus?

- It's a heavy subject. - Heavy?

Scemacgus is trying to say

that this corpse has a weight

unlike any other human.

Meaning?

Look.

Heavy and ductile.

Lead, gentlemen.

This man has a stomach of lead. Have you seen his face?

Yes, I've never seen such a horrible sight.

The face is shrunken.

Similar to those taken from savage tribes.

This man was killed, tortured, massacred.

He was made to drink molten lead.

Insides burned, head shrunken,

organs destroyed. An awful end.

They shot a man

who had choked on molten lead.

I hereby inform you of an order issued

by the Count de Saint-Florentin, king's minister

in charge of the City of Paris and its environs,

to stay all investigation,

inquiry and opening of the said person

and to give up the body,

that it be transferred to family trustees.

It is yours, sir.

My word! Mr de Saint-Florentin.

The blade was hoisted high.

Some know their duty. Others do their job.

Have you traced young Gilles de Ruissec?

Without the slightest difficulty.

Vidame Gilles,

viscount at Lionel's death,

lives at the Ruissec home where we are banned.

Viscount?

It's a motive.

Vidame Gilles may have murdered his elder brother to be a viscount.

I thought we were off the case.

I know.

I'm persistent.

For the late viscount,

the case is indeed closed.

However...

for his mother, the countess,

it isn't.

The body was examined by Doctor Morand.

His report confirms my suspicions. Her spine was snapped.

I'm visiting an actress

from whom this ticket came.

La Bicheli�re.

Those girls are smooth-tongued, hot and mostly spicy.

I don't intend eating.

Return to the Ruissec home.

Find an excuse to lift the seals and enter

and carry out another search.

I'll find it harder to get in than you.

Goodnight, sir.

Come on!

I adore you.

Here, my Lord. Eros undone

by ill fortune.

You'll find what you seek on the mezzanine.

Up the red staircase.

To what do I owe the pleasure, sir?

For creditors' bills, come back at 5 o'clock.

A time when you're at the theatre.

Who are you, impertinent young man?

Nicolas Le Floch. Police commissaire at Ch�telet.

But you are

far too young and appetizing to be a copper.

You are proof

that value...

Well, sir? What is it?

I have here a ticket

on which I'd like your opinion.

Where'd you get that from?

A friend, viscount Lionel de Ruissec.

- He spoke of your charms... - Lionel de Ruissec?

Don't talk to me about that shit!

A pig who robbed me, fucked me then abandoned me!

- Abandoned you? - Yes.

He acted all faithful and devoted

then ran off with another.

There wasn't much respite.

He dumped me! And for whom?

Some rancid whore at court!

Mademoiselle de la Sauvetet!

No one knows about her. They claim she paints.

That means she's old and frightfully ugly.

But she's rich.

That excuses everything.

And viscount Lionel?

Him?

He's broke.

He can't even pay my debts.

Does he want me in the hospital in a nightshirt?

What will become of me?

Yes?

Have a seat, my friend.

We must talk.

The place may well

appear incongruous,

but I wanted to be away from prying ears.

I heard Mr de Saint-Florentin, king's minister,

yesterday immediately received

your chief of police, Mr de Sartine.

Did this lead to the order to abandon the case?

Yes.

- The body was taken? - Yes.

I heard from Dr Scemacgus that your diagnosis was complete.

Indeed.

- There's no doubt it was murder? - None.

I fear this affair is taking a nasty turn.

Mme de Pompadour wishes to see you tomorrow

at the Ch�teau de Choisy.

- In your role as marquis. - Unaccustomed role.

She wants it to remain a secret.

Good luck, my friend.

You will be seen immediately.

Seen immediately?

Are you fleeing me, Nicolas?

You are.

Choiseul told me how pleased he was about Baron van Eyck.

The facts established.

The smuggler identified and shortly arrested.

The baron cleared of all suspicion.

The king

loved the story of your exploits.

Bravo, Commissaire... Bravo.

I heard, too,

by the way,

of the death of the ill-fated Countess de Ruissec.

And the same misfortune

almost cost you your life.

I have my sources.

Just as you have yours.

What do you know of court intrigues, Commissaire?

The little I learn ill-disposes me to learn more.

I quite enjoy them.

This game is being played in a triangle.

At this point, the summit, is the king.

Here,

the dauphin.

As he's surrounded by pious prigs

who ceaselessly censure his conduct

and condemn his mistress,

the king has moved away from him.

Those who grumble about power gravitate

to the heir to the throne.

Thus the dauphin, unwillingly

and even unwittingly,

is now the leader of a band of rebels.

Madame de Pompadour herself considers him her enemy.

Mme de Pompadour?

The last point of the triangle.

But not the least.

I believe you are to meet her.

It was to be a secret.

I wish it wasn't happening.

I command Le Floch,

but as for the Marquis de Ranreuil...

You're feeling your way. With La Pompadour in the game,

the stakes are high.

Go. But be cautious. Keep Bourdeau close.

We need you.

Monsieur Le Floch. I am sure I can rely on your loyalty.

Did you know the king worried about you several times?

The duties of his service leave me little time for civilities.

I heard you were frank and direct. Indeed!

Yet you are too discreet.

To the king, you are the Marquis de Ranreuil...

The Marquis de Ranreuil, my godfather,

before I knew he was my father,

taught me a man's value comes not from his birth

but what he does with his life.

The same is true for women. I was born Poisson.

I say this to show you that we are assured

of your loyalty.

Take a seat, sir.

Mr de Sartine had you investigate

the mysterious death of viscount de Ruissec.

You are well informed.

Indeed I am.

Especially at court.

I seek to protect the king.

Against himself, if need be.

A dangerous intent.

I asked Mr de Saint-Florentin and the chief of police

to spare His Majesty the details of these deaths.

You are silent.

This is but the first round. I await the punch line.

The de Ruissec family, unfavoured by the king,

I have reason to fear.

They plot with the Church and those who wish me gone.

"To the king's whore.

"God allowed Philistines to conquer us

"to punish France for your sins and slovenliness."

I'm blamed for everything!

I found this paper

at my door.

I will find the dispensary.

Yes. But it is an ever-growing hydra.

I see danger ahead.

I fear for the king's life.

Investigate. Mr Le Floch.

With zeal and application. We will be grateful.

The king's fate depends on it.

There is talk of plotting against the king's life.

His mistress fears it.

And your view?

Tends to circumspection.

How went your visit?

I was turned away before I'd stepped inside.

A chapel of rest was set up. The funeral is in two days.

That'd be the perfect time.

The viscount's room holds something.

I must search it once more.

Time seems to be pressing.

We'll go back there tonight.

Still looking for Gilles?

More than ever.

The missing piece of the puzzle.

I asked Dame Rumour. He's a regular at Paulet's.

You're charming. Kiss me. Please.

I consent.

You made me hard as a rock at dinner.

I couldn't hold back.

I have to stick it in.

What if your master catches us?

I'm so hot I'd shag you anywhere.

Come along, my fellow...

More passion! You should be a man possessed.

I know it's only a rehearsal but we should feel your ardour.

And you, let yourself go, be more provocative.

We're amongst fans of drama.

The house grants you

a few instants of virtue while I talk

with Mr Nicolas. Then we start again!

You haven't abandoned the theatre.

What nerve! What passion! What refinement!

One makes a living.

I await a few contacts who are coming

to rekindle their ardour by watching my actors.

Then my girls will give forth.

How's business?

I'm not complaining.

Always well-patronised.

Here the pleasure is varied and high quality.

No unpleasant surprises.

I heard you visit elsewhere.

Nice piece, that Bicheli�re.

Good looking trollop, pretty eyes.

She's feathering her nest.

I almost took her on but she decided to look elsewhere.

You know all about gallantry.

Is her provenance known?

No. We only know she can dance,

sing, act, ride a horse like a boy.

She knocked around with a band of gypsies.

We also know

she bled dry the young viscount,

Lionel de Ruissec.

Is he among your clients too?

La Bicheli�re was enough.

But I do have the younger brother. Vidame Gilles de Ruissec.

A sickly-looking, unlucky gambler.

Everybody avoids him.

Sly, nasty. A cynical libertine.

Always flanked by his henchman, an unsavoury lot

but well connected.

A certain Truche de la Chaux.

Lesser nobility. Nothing special.

Always thick as thieves,

dreaming up some nastiness.

Here.

I thought I banned you from running both gallantry and games.

Don't get on your high horse.

Do you know where this jewel is from?

Where did you get it?

The other day, young de Ruissec had been fleeced.

As security, he left Truche de la Chaux's ring.

On condition I negotiate and pay the creditor.

You see how open I am with you?

And I have given you the ring.

A few works of hard and soft literature,

but more especially

serious scholastic Jesuit texts.

Odd, for a young soldier.

Every cloud...

We've solved the mystery of the barefoot valet.

Charcoal!

Right here stood that damned Lambert,

young Count de Ruissec's valet.

We must find him.

- Lambert can tell us a lot. - At dawn.

I fear the fellow may prove elusive.

See this cover? It's been hastily re-glued

in a clumsy manner.

I bet it has a surprise in store too!

"To the king's whore.

"God allowed Philistines to conquer us

"to punish France for your sins and slovenliness."

The draft!

There seems to be a route indicated.

But which?

Look at the extracts underlined in pencil.

An identical copy.

No doubt the viscount's hand.

These are calls to regicide.

They seek to harm the king?

This is serious.

It looks very much like a plot.

We must warn Mr de Sartine forthwith.

Not tonight. He's at Versailles.

You carry damning evidence. The roads are unsafe.

An escort is unwise if you seek to be discreet.

The best is the enemy of good.

Wait till morning.

I feared it was a night bird hanging on the lantern!

Instead of which...

The lady in blue glasses

lives in an abbey near Versailles. You can't miss it.

It's in vast overgrown grounds.

She has a name?

Mlle de la Sauvetet, according to neighbours.

But none of them knows her.

Take care, sir.

Like Chevalier d'Eon, she stands up to piss.

My job often takes me to the other side of the law.

I'd rather you be my debtor than be indebted.

Announce me to Mlle de la Sauvetet.

We'll see.

Who are you?

Marquis de Ranreuil.

Can I help you, sir?

I imagined you,

mademoiselle,

in more finery.

This suits recent mourning.

Get to the point, sir.

I would like to speak to you in private.

No need.

These people hear nothing of our language's subtlety.

Why do you wish to see me?

Your engagement to the viscount de Ruissec.

You insult my pain.

The viscount is dead.

His mother too.

Though I respect it, your pain seems conventional.

I thought you'd be in tears at the death of one so dear.

We hardly knew each other. Our parents arranged the match.

What would you know about the viscount?

Where you met the object of your passion.

How the match was sounded out. You know who I am.

I do know.

And you are wasting my time.

Look at my dress, sir.

I was going to church to pay my last respects to the viscount

and his mother.

Would you care to come with me?

- I may have to apprehend you. - Indeed, you could try.

If it wasn't already so.

But you can't put your money where your mouth is.

Look around you, sir.

You are alone.

My people are many.

Unless you intend reiterating in public

what usually is kept private.

Show him out.

You mentioned evidence?

Two of the notes are transparent. The sketch less so.

A plan?

It's a plan of the Ch�teau de Versailles.

Look, Sartine.

The Cour des Princes, the All�e des Ministres.

This rectangle,

the Galerie des Glaces. The Escalier des Ambassadeurs.

This square is where we are now.

The itinerary that of the king returning to his apartments.

This plan shows intent to penetrate the palace.

Some of these annotations you see here

conceal secret indications to which we do not have the key.

Clear and present danger.

Where did you get this?

The library of the late viscount Lionel de Ruissec.

I intend to influence this case.

It remains secret, but I want it untangled quickly.

Here. Mr. Commissaire

Two sealed letters.

Two weapons firing blanks that you have power to activate.

Monsieur Le Floch.

Nobody will question

the means you judge necessary.

Here's the buck!

Let go. I don't know you.

We bumped into each other at Choisy.

Hurrying out of a box room.

You're a poor actor. Who are you?

A rogue called de la Chaux.

Truche de la Chaux.

A disreputable animal.

A no-good who seduces lady's companions,

maids, chambermaids, sometimes even lackeys.

Deceitful, cunning

and plunderer.

De la Chaux...

His name came up recently in a case...

I ask for nothing more. Especially not details.

I just want to warn you.

Truche de la Chaux is known as the mistress's ears.

It seems the de Ruissec family look favourably on him.

Both? How can that be?

The lure of gain, quite simply.

Let's leave that aside.

I'm here because I've been given an extremely important mission.

Mme Ad�la�de invites the Marquis de Ranreuil hunting tomorrow.

- It's not possible. - You have no choice.

The king dotes on his eldest daughter.

It gives Madame Ad�la�de considerable weight.

At court, triviality is a virtue.

I must spend the night in Paris.

I'll leave my apartments, my bodyguard, Gaspar,

and my hunting outfit.

Gaspar will satisfy

your every wish as he does mine. Goodbye, Nicolas.

- What can I do? - Saddle my horse, I'll do the rest.

What are you pestering me for?

I pester no man.

Just the mistress. I know all about you.

But things have changed.

I have power to send you to the Bastille.

What do you want to know?

You're an unrepentant gambler.

You're a regular at Paulet's.

Why do you speak of Paulet?

I don't play for me. And I hate cocange.

You go there with vidame de Ruissec.

I don't go with the vidame.

He's a gambler. An unlucky one.

Sometimes I bail him out.

That's all I can say. I am bound to secrecy.

By whom?

I can only beg you to believe I was acting on orders.

Don't tell Mme Ad�la�de or I'm a dead man.

The king calls. May I?

I want to speak to you straight after.

Your Majesty,

the Marquis de Ranreuil.

Ah Mr. Marquis! With us, finally.

I bet only some pressing reason

brought you here

and that mademoiselle is involved.

You will explain the reason in the future.

I knew your father, Mr de Ranreuil.

You are much like him. They say

you are as wise and discreet as he.

Your humble servant, your Highness.

Worries in my inner circle.

Misfortune has struck the poor de Ruissecs.

And other worries too.

Unpleasant thefts from my purse.

It was brought to my attention.

- Jewels, ma'am? - Indeed.

Jewels like this, for instance?

I couldn't swear, but similar.

I must keep it as evidence.

One question, ma'am. Was the ring stolen from you?

Yes, sir.

Who drew your attention to these thefts?

Mme de Pompadour was surprised

I didn't wear certain pieces.

Mme de Pompadour?

There's a certain female jealousy between us.

Jewels are often a source of dispute with the king.

Disputes on both sides,

with both to blame.

You will enquire and report back?

Madam,

do you know Mr Truche de la Chaux?

The buck has been released.

We must go. Good hunting.

Charcoal.

Dash it!

Back!

Follow me!

The hat is battered

but the iron shell lining it saved your life.

My clothes?

Don't worry. Nothing was stolen.

It's all on the table.

You'll live, my fine young man,

but you'll have to be patient for a few days.

I don't have a few days. Who saved me?

You?

How could you, handsome blackbird?

I command an invisible army, which is everywhere.

Come closer.

Now I am doubly in your debt, sir.

What can I do?

Nothing, sir. At least, not at the moment.

Help me get up.

We must not relax our pursuit.

Would you have a book on coats-of-arms?

I do, Nicolas.

But I also have a memory. Give me a description.

Unless I'm mistaken...

azure, fess argent.

Charged with 3 or 4 mullets.

The lower part may have been in a sorry state.

Was it crowned?

Indeed.

With five flowerets, I believe.

Where did you find that?

On a muddy old carriage,

at Mlle de la Sauvetet's. Why?

You've described the arms

of one of Languedoc's oldest families.

The de Langremonts.

Is the bird in the nest?

Either he's disappeared or not emerged.

Our men have been watching and haven't seen him.

Wait here for me.

Sir, Commissaire Le Floch.

No need.

I saw him arrive with his flatfoots.

What do you want, sir?

To witness the de Ruissecs' fall?

- It is almost over. - The game nears its finale.

Only you and the vidame are left. A trade seems wise.

You are mistaken, Marquis. I never trade.

Not a piece, nor a position nor an advantage.

The truth

about the reasons for the viscount's death against...

Against what, sir?

The freedom of vidame Gilles.

I have the power to imprison

anyone who stands in the way of this inquiry.

Mr de Saint-Florentin has abandoned me?

It seems so, sir.

They talk of a conspiracy against the king.

Say nothing.

I beg you.

Forget Mr de Saint-Florentin's disgrace.

Nothing pushes you to follow.

Could it be, vidame,

you retain a vestige of the de Ruissecs' ancient virility?

No matter. Keep silence, sir.

Nothing not said can be proven.

However serious the charge.

Your silence is the only rampart against dishonour.

Dishonour?

Do your duty, sir.

My father and I will not oppose you.

A plot, according to the vidame de Ruissec.

A terrible plot.

But you need reasons to hatch a plot.

I fear, my friend,

that I have not told all.

Jean de Langremont...

Had he lived,

he'd have been a brilliant marshal.

He had an eye for the ladies.

Until he met his own.

Aude de Langremont.

One of the most beautiful women I've seen.

Right up to the gallows, he never stopped proclaiming his innocence.

And she?

Aude de Langremont did not survive sorrow and dishonour.

- She died soon after. - The line has died out?

The diocese register of Saint-Nicaise de Langremont

mentions a baptism, the same day,

22 years ago,

of two children, born an hour apart.

Yves and Marie de Langremont.

Marie de Langremont?

Mr Le Floch!

Inspector Bourdeau awaits with an urgent communication.

We locked him up, then a woman asked leave to give

wine and food to vidame de Ruissec.

- You weren't intrigued? - No.

You authorised him to receive meals

from outside.

He sat down to eat, looking bored,

took a swig of wine and fell into convulsions.

Then he died.

- A woman? - Yes.

- Thin with a painted face. - And blue spectacles?

Dead.

You as good as killed him.

Don't even try.

You're not up to it, if you ever were.

I know who you are.

Exempt.

La Pompadour's thing.

You plot against me with the king's whore.

You attempt to circumvent Madame Ad�la�de.

One question, sir...

to restore your humility.

Do you have an idea of the identity of Armande de la Sauvetet?

Armande de la Sauvetet?

How can it be

that you consent to such a mismatch?

Money, no doubt.

Ignorance and vanity, perhaps.

The viscount was indeed to marry Armande de la Sauvetet?

Marry for money, am I right?

For the young man's heart was set on an actress.

This is neither the time nor the place

for such a discussion.

The actress hears of the project and dismisses the dandy.

The dandy wallows in limitless sorrow,

not knowing that the two lovers are in fact one.

What are you insinuating?

You were deceived.

La Bicheli�re

and Armande de la Sauvetet

are one and the same.

The same?

But...

Trollop!

Don't lose him.

But we know where he's bound.

Charcoal.

In truth,

how many are in this conspiracy?

Few of us. You, me and several more.

Why?

You?

Me.

The valet Lambert.

In your house.

Watching, day after day.

Every day more humble,

more present, more invisible than your son's shadow.

You killed him?

I had to. He gave the game away to the countess.

Soon everybody would have known.

Your son had a taste for tragedy.

And an appetite for betrayal.

He was punished like a traitor!

What are you waiting for?

The viscount's death was slow and cruel.

I intend yours to be also.

Who are you, Lambert?

- Who are you? - A demon!

From your memory.

Son of Jean de Langremont.

You don't recognise me?

But you should!

Langremont! Enough!

That accursed Langremont.

He got me in the end.

However, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Sorry I'm dying...

in the arms of the law.

Exempt!

Get up, sir..

I'm not keen on having men at my knees.

You are a very resourceful man.

I thought I'd won you over when I saw you last,

in your boudoir, rue de Richelieu.

There must be better to do than kill each other?

Indeed.

You could give yourself up.

Give myself up?

Haven't I given myself up enough?

However,

the prospect of swinging at the end of a rope

in some lazaret,

or some dark dungeon...

I fear that you have no choice.

Let me go!

So the Count de Ruissec is dead?

Yes.

Lately, and as a soldier.

As a soldier?

His end was more honest and dignified

than was his life.

You are right, Commissaire.

These plans of the ch�teau, more detailed,

these drafts, this satire

warning of the death of the tyrant Louis XV.

A lot of empty words.

Plans, intentions.

A lot of evidence, but what of any action?

None of the court informers has reported any.

Whither the men?

The conspirators? All is written in one hand,

a woman's hand, it seems. The tone is unanimous.

It looks like a smokescreen,

set to exploit the viscount and his father.

But no one got wind of Damien's attack on the king.

True.

You're right. Remain vigilant.

This must remain a state secret.

The king must be protected at all costs.

Even against himself.

The case is closed.

Your only task now, Commissaire,

to find a plausible explanation for the count's passing.

Even if it bears only a passing resemblance

to reality.

You're irritated?

You're experiencing the rarefied air of high-level politics.

More so the higher you go.

One day, justice may be the same for all.

Though, personally, I doubt it.

Yves de Langremont died last night in his cell.

I let his sister join him.

An honourable gesture.

Yet you seem ill-at-ease.

The lady is here.

I'd like her to appear in my report.

Mademoiselle la duchesse Marie de Langremont.

Alias Mlle de la Sauvetet.

Alias La Bicheli�re.

Odd multiplicity, mademoiselle.

From pleasant to much less than pleasant.

A double plot hatched to get revenge on de Ruissec.

Sister and brother united in crime.

One making plans, the other executing them.

Yves de Langremont,

as Lambert, enters the service of the young viscount.

The plan is to snare the Ruissecs in a conspiracy

against the king, and she was,

by the way,

the only instigator.

At the same time, the idea of marrying the viscount,

permanently broke, with Mlle de la Sauvetet.

Armande de la Sauvetet,

none other than Marie de Langremont.

A fine example of duplicity.

Duplicity?

Triplicity suits it better.

How can it be, Commissaire?

You're forgetting La Bicheli�re.

I was coming to her.

Once the marriage was consummated,

the court would hear that the viscount had married an actress,

a loose woman.

A calculated indiscretion...

It'd be curtains for the de Ruissecs.

Bravo, mademoiselle.

The count was trapped. You just had to wait.

Why murder the viscount, then?

No doubt the crime was due to a rare error.

You got carried away.

You held the wretch in your hand.

Everyone says the viscount was sensitive and wild.

You wanted to humiliate him as a game.

So you dismissed him.

The simpleton kept falling at my feet.

You must remember, Commissaire,

that some women demand a more forthright approach.

Rejected by his love,

the viscount confided in his mother.

He told her everything.

As well as his intention to fall on the king's mercy

and reveal all about the conspiracy.

So he had to die.

And I assure you he died in terrible torment.

Why bring his body home?

So the count could see the horror of his death!

Strange, mademoiselle,

such an extreme course of action...

for one so high-born.

When my father was hanged,

my mother, Duchess Aude de Langremont,

soon joined him, and by the same route.

I found her hanging from a tree in the grounds.

The crows had had time

to pick her eyes out. She had such gorgeous eyes.

We avoided scandal, but not ruin.

To survive,

my brother sold his swordsmanship.

I had to sell my body.

Do you have, sir,

any idea what it means to sell your body?

No, mademoiselle.

I have no idea.

As a magistrate, I cannot approve of private vengeance.

As an enlightened human being

with good morals,

I understand her.

Come, Nicolas.

Why don't you see the young lady back?

You're dying to.

As for me,

well...

I still have my wigs.

You hated him that much?

Yes.

You paid for revenge with your virtue.

Now it'll cost you your youth and beauty.

You'll be confined for life in a lazaret in remotest P�rigord.

No matter.

I had no choice.

You had it repainted?

Thanks to you, my last journey will retain some glory.

Guard Mlle de la Sauvetet's life with your own.

However, should some gypsy

break out of the carriage and flee,

your job is not to give chase.

I know I am bound for a hideous fate.

I use the little credit I have to beg you to come.

Please get to the point.

Deliver a note to La Pompadour.

You are a man of your word.

Yes, sir.

But what do I gain?

I can tell you where Madame Ad�la�de's stolen jewels are.

You have my word.

Paper.

A pencil, some light from your candle

and you'll have what you need.

"Madam, I beg you,

"save me.

"To compromise the Ruissecs and the Church,

"you asked me to steal Madame Ad�la�de's jewels.

"I obeyed.

"With one word,

"you could save me from a slow and cruel death.

"Your servant,

"Truche de la Chaux."

I don't doubt you read it.

There is no doubt, ma'am.

What do you think, Commissaire?

Any sensible man would beg to avoid the question

as well as this man's death by the executioner.

Take this. My fate is in your hands.

But these crimes were committed for love of the king.

I love him, just as you do.

And when you love with all your heart and soul,

the means do not matter.

Commissaire, you have my entire gratitude.

May I ask you where you found them?

The story is complex. Its episodes uneventful.

You are too modest, Marquis.

I believe this intrigue worthy of the classics

and its events very diverting.

You'll have a chance to tell me in detail, Mr Marquis

at one of our coming hunts.

I know you are a man who can be relied upon

unreservedly.

You have proved your efficiency

and your discretion

on the dangerous missions entrusted to you.

Keep well, Mr de Ranreuil.

- He's no fool. - Never.

Dash it! You are up and galloping.

Just try to stay in the saddle!

Subtitles - Henry Moon for TELETOTA -Revised and edited by Chassbo