Original subtitles

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

MAIGRET: "Chief Inspector Maigret,

Police Judiciaire, Quai des Orfévres, Paris.

A crime will take place during the first Mass on All Souls' Day

in the church of Saint-Fiacre."

Look what was in the post this morning.

Saint-Fiacre.

Village near Moulins.

I was born there.

Hm.

Long time ago.

Still...

Mind the shop, will you, Lucas?

There's a good fellow.

You're not going all the way down there, are you?

-It's just a hoax, surely. -Or a plea for help.

Or a challenge.

We'll see, old son.

[ Whistle blows ]

[ Bell tolling ]

[ Bell tolling ]

[ Priest speaking Latin ]

[ Organ playing ]

ALL: Amen.

[ Priest speaking Latin ]

[ Congregants speaking Latin ]

[ Priest praying in Latin ]

ALL: Amen.

[ Singing in Latin ]

Madame?

Dead.

-Who are you? -Chief Inspector Maigret.

-Police? -From Paris.

-FATHER MARTIN: Paris? -MAIGRET: And you?

-Martin. Father Martin. -Father Martin.

-No visible wounds. -[ Door closes I]

You suspect a crime?

Dr. Bouchardon shall tell us what we need to know.

-[ Footsteps approaching ] -Ah.

The countess?

Can't say I'm surprised. There's quite a history.

Several attacks, one just six weeks ago.

Her condition is well known?

Of course. You can't keep much quiet in a village.

Well, not this one. That's for certain.

But you can say that it was caused naturally,

that it wasn't a crime?

Crime?

Well, if it was a crime, I can't say the next Mass.

The bishop would have to reconsecrate the church.

It would have been desecrated.

Doctor?

What's more natural than a heart attack?

If you've got a weak heart, that is.

[ Birds chirping ]

Maigret? What, the count's old bailiff?

You're his boy?

My father's buried over there.

Yes. I can see it now.

[ Chuckles ]

Nevertheless -- Well, we all change, don't we?

You haven't.

Do you still miss Mass to go fishing?

[ Groans I] Afraid so.

With Lucien Gautier, your father's successor.

-Have you met him? -Never.

Mm.

[ Goose honks ]

Purely sentimental visit?

Day of the Dead.

Traditional, really -- pay one's respects.

Bet you didn't expect this.

Did Madame live alone after the count died?

Oh, good Lord, no.

Had a succession of confidential secretaries --

all male, strangely enough, and half her age, too.

-Jean Metayer is the latest. -Local fellow?

No. From Bourges, I believe.

I warned her against too much excitement in bed.

Mind you, I can't see Metayer

giving any woman a heart attack, not that way.

[ Chuckles ] You'll see.

Get someone to help you with Madame.

MAN: Albert! Marie-Christine!

Out here quickly!

What's happening? Where's the countess?

In the car.

What brings you here, Doctor? And who's this?

-Police. -Police?

But why?

Oh, no.

Oh, my God.

Heart attack, fatal, during Mass.

ALBERT: Dead? You mean Madame is dead?

-[ Telephone ringing ] -I'll answer that.

[ Voice breaking I] It's too terrible.

-[ Vehicle door closes I] -When, exactly?

-As the chief inspector said -- -Chief inspector?

From Paris, name of Maigret, son of the old bailiff.

He hasn't been down here for years,

and when he does come, this has to happen.

[ Sighs ] Coincidence, do you think?

What else?

[ Telephone ringing ]

Hello?

Yes, she is.

She is indeed.

I'd advise you to get here as quickly as possible.

No sign of a needle, no evidence of poison.

I was right first time -- definitely cardiac arrest.

[ Clock ticking ]

When I was a young boy,

I used to think she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

MAN: No, no. Don't go upstairs, now.

[ Door opens I]

I'm freezing.

You might have let me dress.

How long have you been the countess's secretary?

Two years.

And what did you do before that?

I traveled, wrote articles on art, antiques.

Private income?

An allowance from my father.

Ah.

There used to be a lot more of these here when I was a boy.

Many of them have gone now.

It's very sad.

All sold, I suppose.

You became the countess's lover?

One is free to do as --

You get on well with her son, would you say?

-Count Maurice? -You're about the same age.

-Do you? -I fail to see what that --

Do you?

Or did you supplant him in his mother's affections?

May I go?

Yes.

Who the devil are you?

Was it you I spoke to on the phone?

[ Engine idling ]

Your mother died this morning.

[ Clock ticking ]

Poor old thing.

It happened during first Mass, I understand.

Is that right?

Chief Inspector Maigret was present.

You saw her die.

We need to talk further.

By all means.

[ Door closes ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Oh, my God. You aren't still with us, are you?

I just wanted to offer my condolences.

Get out.

Naturally, you're upset.

I am, too.

Excuse me.

So, you're old Maigret's son.

Well, well.

Have you met our new bailiff -- Gautier?

-Not yet, Count, no. -[ Door slams ]

Whiskey?

A finger.

Thank you.

I wish I could say I remembered you, but I don't.

I watched you learn to walk.

Your health.

And to yours.

-What's that? -Read it.

Sent to me in Paris -- anonymously, of course.

"A crime will take place during first Mass on All Souls' Day

at the church at Saint-Fiacre."

So down you came?

Couldn't resist the invitation

to return to the scene of my childhood.

I can imagine.

The doctor tells me your mother's heart condition

was well known.

Oh, yes. Common knowledge.

Apart from yourself, Count, can anyone else benefit financially

from your mother's death?

You mean Metayer?

I'm just wondering.

He's in her will.

Bouchardon also told me the house is heavily mortgaged.

Three out of the four farms have been sold.

I noticed myself that much of the furniture and paintings,

books, even, have gone.

Why is that?

Oh, so banal.

After my father died -- he was a provident man --

I know.

You do?

Ohl [ Laughs ]

Yes, you do. Of course!

Carry on.

Papa's death upset Maman dreadfully.

At first she spent all her time in church.

-Where were you? -Me?

Doing nothing very well in Paris.

Backed a film company -- disaster --

burnt my fingers in a racing syndicate,

published a society magazine,

tittle-tattle plus investment tips --

you know, that sort of thing.

I'll take that.

Anyway, my mother very soon announced she needed help

to run the chateau.

Hence her various secretaries.

The doctor's been talking.

All were also her lovers, he said.

Well, yes.

But she needed comfort.

-Don't blame her, do you? -No.

Mind you, she blamed herself -- agonies of remorse.

Is that so?

Every one of them took advantage --

not just of her bed.

This last one especially.

You don't like Metayer?

I loathe him.

Having watched your mother throughout the service...

Of course.

Excuse me, Count. We'll talk again later.

High Mass is just about to finish, isn't it?

Well, yes, I think.

Later.

Can I assist, Chief Inspector?

Who took the prayer book, the countess's?

It's gone.

I don't know.

Has anyone else sat here?

No, not at the second Mass.

And at this last one?

No, no one.

Kindly make it known there will be a reward

for whoever brings me the countess's prayer book.

I'd better state a price, knowing folks around here.

Mm.

Shall we say 500 francs?

Right.

[ Birds chirping ]

Monsieur.

Excuse me.

One doesn't smoke here.

Ohl [ Chuckles ]

Sorry.

Madame, that young man -- I'm sure you know him.

Course I do. Emile.

Emile Gautier, the bailiff's son.

Ah. No, no. That's me.

-Eh? -Mm.

My father was the old bailiff at the chateau.

Well, that's the new one's lad, with his mother.

He works in the bank at Moulins.

Maigret?

Are you young Maigret?

Young Jules?

Uh-huh.

I used to buy oranges from you when I was a boy, Francoise.

Good day, madame.

[ Birds chirping ]

M. Gautier!

Are you the policeman from Paris?

-Who told you that? -When they came for the doctor.

And as the countess's bailiff,

you didn't feel obliged to give up your morning's sport?

Why should 1? It's a public holiday today!

Besides, what could I do? I'm not a doctor, am I?

Nor a policeman.

Well, you can come along now.

[ Reel clicking ]

Grounds aren't what they were.

No. We had to dismiss all the gardeners.

Nothing to pay them with.

-And St. Fiacre as well. -What?

The saint -- You had to sack him, too.

He was a keen horticulturist, I was always told.

Oh, the patron saint of gardeners.

Yes, yes.

So, as far as the estate's concerned,

you look after pretty well everything?

Everything.

Just like my father did.

I can see the likeness now.

I don't think I ever met you, did 1?

No. I was away studying medicine in Nantes.

-Yes. I remember. -Mm.

-You didn't stick to medicine? -No.

So, if you do everything, what's left for young Metayer to do?

Sponge. He's a sponger.

What about the count? Is he a sponger, too?

Yes, but with more claim.

MAIGRET: Well.

LUCIEN: Takes you back?

MAIGRET: [ Sighs ] Any number of years.

[ Birds chirping ]

So, anyway, young Metayer has done little or nothing

during his time here as secretary.

Well, I wouldn't say that, no.

At the start, he made out he was a financial genius,

took control of the countess's investments,

only every stock he bought went down, not up -- down and down.

Apart from that, he wrote the occasional article

for the Courier.

-The Moulins Courier? -Mm.

I reckon they only printed them out of respect for the countess.

Nobody thought much of it.

But he gave himself such airs. Ugh.

Um, are you gonna come in?

Oh, some other time.

As you wish.

[ Rooster crows I

[ Hooves clopping ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

You the chief inspector?

Yes, I am.

We may be a poor family, monsieur,

but we've always been an honest one.

You took the prayer book?

Answer the man.

He's the bane of my life.

Been on and on at me

to buy him a big prayer book like Father Martin.

I told him, "How could the likes of us afford one of those?"

So what happens?

Comes back, he does, just before High Mass.

Goes up to his room, then out again.

So...what do I find under his mattress?

There.

I shall die of shame.

Thank you very much.

Says he found it in the sacristy, under his surplice.

Then there's the reward, isn't there?

Oh, yes, the reward. Yes.

Um...let me see.

[ Muttering ]

There you are.

Thank you, Chief Inspector.

Come on, you.

The man's had enough of you, and so have I.

[ Birds chirping ]

-Papa, listen. I need your help. -[ Door closes I]

I'm in trouble.

I can't talk now.

Goodbye.

Chief Inspector.

Going home?

No. The auberge.

The count has made it clear that I'm persona non grata.

When did you last go to the Moulins Courier?

I don't mean to the office.

I mean to the printing works.

Why ask that?

Why not answer?

No.

No, I'm not obliged to.

You studied law, I expect?

Two years, yes.

There's no crime here.

The doctor's confirmed.

Except I maintain the countess was killed deliberately,

with malice aforethought, by the most vicious of killers.

Read this.

It is, in effect, the murder weapon.

The murderer had it printed.

Count Maurice blew his brains out

yesterday afternoon, it says.

His mother found that in her prayer book

at the end of the mass.

No wonder she had a heart attack.

And whoever did it notified me in Paris,

announcing the time and place of the crime.

I refuse to speak.

Don't leave the village without telling me.

Just get me the money, Gautier.

I can't promise, sir.

Get it.

Offer the home farm as security.

Tell them it's for the funeral or something.

Just a short-term loan.

Now go on with you.

Chief Inspector, come in.

Do it, Gautier.

If you ever want to feel depressed, talk to our bailiff.

[ Chuckles ]

Did you hear any of that?

Well, the door was open. I couldn't help it.

Mm.

Look, the, uh, fact is,

I came here today with the intention of begging my mother

for 2 million francs.

That's a lot of money.

For a policeman, I'm sure.

You see, I, uh, wrote a check a couple of days ago.

And didn't have the funds to meet it?

Criminal offense. I know. I know.

It'll be presented tomorrow.

I'm sure the Jockey Club won't hesitate to prosecute.

Well, they can certainly obtain

a warrant for your arrest, Count.

Quite.

Should have told you before.

-Did you know you were dead? -Hmm?

You committed suicide in Paris yesterday afternoon.

This account of your death

was placed in your mother's prayer book,

where she was sure to find it.

The shock killed her.

Is this a real newspaper cutting?

Of course not. Someone had it printed.

For one purpose only, in my view -- to kill.

Good God.

MAIGRET: Can you spare a moment, Father?

Not easily, no.

[ Door closes ]

I think you should.

You may yet need to have your church reconsecrated.

You said it was a natural death.

I said nothing of the kind.

That was Dr. Bouchardon's opinion, not mine.

It was murder, Father.

Murder.

Someone took the countess's prayer book, didn't they?

Ernest Bonnet found it hidden under his surplice.

Only four people could have moved that book --

Ernest himself, the sacristan, the bell ringer --

I took it.

And you concealed it in your sacristy?

I was so appalled by what had happened,

I wasn't thinking clearly.

Did you know what was in the book?

-No. -In that case --

Look, I-I beg you, please don't ask me any further questions.

The secrets of the confessional are involved.

Are you telling me you know who the murderer is?

God knows him.

Well, you don't think it's your duty as a citizen?

If you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere.

[ Vehicle passing I]

[ Clock ticking ]

Here we are, M. Jules.

-Ah, thank you Marie-Tatin. -[ Chuckles ]

You know, the old count was a wonderful man.

He kept everything up to scratch, especially the grounds.

My father took me ‘round them as a boy.

Well, it was like heaven.

Yes.

We knew where we were with the old count,

but his son is a different matter.

Everyone says so.

And as for the countess, well...

Well, she should have grown old with dignity.

Yeah.

She made St. Fiacre a by-word, she did.

[ Sighs ]

I know I shouldn't speak ill of the dead, M. Jules,

but all those young men -- I mean, I ask you -- at her age.

Are you quite sure you didn't hear that car this morning?

No. I sleep at the back.

Mm.

I thought to myself,

"That can't be the bus for Moulins, not that early."

Does, uh, does Emile Gautier have a car?

No. He's got a Vespa.

He goes to the bank on it regularly,

but not before half past 7:00.

No, no.

Wasn't one of those pop-pop things.

Well, it's not as if we're on the way to anywhere, is it?

No.

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Bell rings ]

MAIGRET: Morning, Albert.

I'd like to talk to Count Maurice.

He isn't here, Chief Inspector.

Gone? Where is he?

He didn't say.

Drove off before any of us was up.

Did the bailiff call again last night?

M. Gautier? No. Just Father Martin.

-No one else? -No.

I must make a phone call.

Hello? Operator?

I want to make a personal call to Paris --

Police Judiciaire, Quai des Orfévres.

Ask for Sergeant Lucas.

[ Bell chiming ]

[ Vehicle approaching ]

[ Telephone rings I]

M. Gautier?

Ah. Yes.

Yes. My father told me who you were.

I hope you didn't object -- you know, yesterday in the cemetery.

Of course not.

I can smoke in here, though, can I?

Of course. Yes. Do, Chief Inspector.

I need some information

concerning the countess's financial affairs.

Come through, please.

Would you advise your switchboard

I'm expecting a telephone call from Paris, police headquarters?

EMILE: Right.

[ Keys clacking ]

-Please. -Thank you.

She never inquired about the state of her account,

just wrote checks without regard.

No idea of management.

Yes. Well, of course.

The old count had taken care of everything.

Oh, yes.

Yes. My father says things were different when he was alive.

Everything went like clockwork --

repairs, planting, rents.

True.

But recently I've been obliged to stop her checks.

And when I'd telephone to explain, Madame would, uh...

Well, she'd become quite angry with me, really.

It's rather embarrassing for both of us.

I'm sure.

I expect you're aware that three out of the four farms are sold?

The fourth is mortgaged.

Some equity remains in it, but nothing of substance.

The same is true of the chateau itself.

Not much left for Count Maurice?

Mm, not really, no.

Mind you, he's enjoyed most of his inheritance in advance,

you could say.

Mm. Yes.

Tell me -- Has Metayer benefited at all?

He received an over-generous salary, in my view.

And his investments on Madame's behalf proved, uh, unsound.

If they were really made at all, that is.

You mean he might have deposited the money elsewhere?

Bourges, Paris, Lyon, anywhere.

Mm.

All drained away.

[ Machinery humming ]

Do you recognize this typeface?

Cheltenham bold, it's known as.

Everybody uses it.

Let's go upstairs.

You mean there are other printers here in Moulins?

No, no.

I mean most provincial papers favor Cheltenham bold --

Bourges, Nevers, Chateauroux.

I've been asked to turn out this sort of thing from time to time,

usually for a theatrical group.

Ah. But not recently?

No, no, no, no, no.

What about the paper?

Made in Germany and supplied by Constant Brothers -- Macon.

-We all go to them. -Ah.

Does M. Metayer ever come here?

Him? He's always in and out.

He reckons he knows the job better than we do.

Could he set a piece up like this if he chose to?

Well, given a couple of hours, I daresay yes.

Ah.

When was he last in here?

A couple of days ago.

Yes -- Tuesday and twice the week before.

Ah. Well, huh.

-Thank you very much, monsieur. -Not at all.

-You've been most helpful to me. -You're very welcome.

MAIGRET: Is that so?

-Very interesting. -[ Whistle blowing ]

So please go back to the bank.

Thank you, Lucas.

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Horse snorting ]

Hello, monsieur.

Morning, sir.

-Good morning, sir. -Hello there.

[ Indistinct praying ]

I'd like another word with you, Father.

Look, I have already told you.

Concerning important matters outside the confessional.

-[ Tires screech ] -Ah.

That sounds like the count now.

Back so soon.

[ Playing "Frere Jacques" ]

You certainly believe in making yourself at home,

Chief Inspector.

You went to Paris.

How did you know that?

Albert, ask Father Martin to join us.

I heard your car pass very early this morning.

Your bank in the Rue Saint-Honoré

has informed my colleagues at headquarters in Paris

that someone deposited the money you needed this morning.

As you say.

I assume that person was yourself.

Me? Yes.

Who supplied the money, Count?

Emile Gautier tells me

his father didn't call here last night.

Gautier did nothing. Didn't even try.

I told you he wouldn't.

-However -- -[ Door opens I]

Ah. Father.

The chief inspector wishes to know

why you sent me 2 million francs last night.

That was in the strictest confidence.

Father Martin was devoted to my mother.

He couldn't bear the thought of any further scandal

adhering to her name.

The cash, lent by our notary's widow --

Father Martin is good with women --

arrived with a note.

"Be careful," it says.

"I pray for you."

There.

Somewhat poisonous, I'd say.

I nearly threw it away,

and then I wondered if it might interest you, M. Maigret.

I regard the money as a loan, Father,

but I do not accept what your note seeks to imply --

that I am in some way guilty of my mother's death.

I have already told M. Maigret that I cannot speak further.

My mother confessed something.

Or was it Metayer?

He's one of your flock. What did he confess?

You know I cannot say any more.

But I can guess, Father.

She told you about my gambling, my women, my debts, hmm?

Said she lived in fear of my begging letters,

my constant visits here to beg for yet more and more money?

That's it, isn't it?

And did she finally suggest, within the confessional,

that she feared for her life, so desperate was I to inherit?

Was that it?

Especially as her latest personal secretary

was creaming off so much of what was legitimately mine?

FR. MARTIN: Please.

Please.

MAIGRET: You may go, Father.

-What?! -You can go.

How dare he suggest?

Anyone can have his suspicions, Count.

[ Door closes ]

At least his generosity has enabled you to avoid arrest.

The family honor, preserved by that pious little toad.

Please.

He's not the only one to feel horrified by recent events.

As a child, I looked up to your family, Count.

I had no doubt you'd be worthy of your name.

Of course, I was wrong.

How was I to know you would turn out to be as you are

or that your mother would fall prey to a murderer?

You can't say it was murder.

Oh, in a strictly judicial sense, no.

Exactly.

But in terms of natural justice,

I can say and do say it was murder,

as surely as if someone had fired a gun at her.

The news of your suicide was intended to shock --

to kill, even.

It succeeded.

Tell me, Count.

Does Cheltenham bold mean anything to you?

Cheltenham?

It is a racecourse in England, I believe.

Is it, really?

Oh, another thing --

Don't leave the village again without telling me.

[ Rooster crows I

[ Chickens clucking ]

[ Doorbell rings I]

-Hello. -Good morning.

I'd like to talk to your husband, Mme. Gautier.

-Come in. -Thank you so much.

In here?

No, not the study.

-The kitchen. -Ah.

In here.

Ah. Thank you.

-I'll fetch him. -Thank you.

Ah. Chief Inspector.

Ahl Hello.

Used to play for hours under this table when I was a child.

It was a cave, a wigwam, a robber's den.

Don't most kids?

Did your son?

No.

Old head on young shoulders, Emile.

Always like that, he was.

Uh-huh.

You don't care for the count, do you?

Hmm?

Well, you couldn't raise the money he wanted.

I tried.

But no one was prepared to put it up, not ‘round here.

They know him only too well.

Father Martin seemed to manage it all right.

More fool him.

Here's health.

Good health.

My father used to keep the account books in there.

Which ones?

Oh, I don't know.

Usual stuff -- staff wages, farm revenue, rent collections,

general game logs and the lot, you know.

Would you mind if I had a look at them?

Uh, Emile took them just the other day --

to the bank.

-To do an audit? -Yes.

Ah. Well, that's all right, then.

They'll be safe in the bank. Yes.

It's a pity, really.

I was in Moulins only this morning.

I could have looked at them then.

But, uh, some other time.

Why don't you like the count?

I said.

I-1 said before.

I said why.

Oh, yes -- a scrounger, yes, with more claim than Metayer,

whom you dislike even more.

You know, it's very strange for me,

being here after all the years.

It's disconcerting.

It's very much the same, but somehow different, yeah.

Pity about the old range.

New fad of the wife.

Kept on at you to get one, hmm?

Women will, won't they, some of them,

push us where we'd rather not go?

Well, I won't keep you any longer, Gautier.

I'm sure you have a thousand and one things you have to do.

I know my father did.

Oh, you needn't mention to your son

my inquiries about the estate accounts --

just between you and me, all right?

Cheerio.

You'll remember what to say?

Well, you'll just tell him.

Tell the man.

Hello, Ernest.

Um, I-1, um...

What?

Can I see your whistle?

Yes.

Ah.

May 1?

[ Whistle blows ]

When I was your age, I would have killed for one of these.

[ Whistle blows ]

You've got something to tell me, haven't you?

I'm listening.

It's about the prayer book.

See, my mother didn't tell you everything.

Just after second Mass... someone asked me where it was.

Who?

Who?

Look, would you like some grenadine, huh?

Fizzy water?

Sure, fizzy water.

After you, monsieur.

[ Liquid pouring ]

The count -- Count Maurice came into the church.

You're quite sure you don't mean M. Metayer?

No. No, it was the count.

He asked me if I'd seen the countess's prayer book.

It wasn't in her pew.

And you hadn't then?

No. This was just before I found it.

In the sacristy?

Mm.

So you were telling the count the truth at that moment?

Oh, yes.

Just like you're telling me the truth now?

-Yes. -Good. Well, that's fine.

Well done, Ernest. You've been a great help to me.

Thanks to you, I can now see my way.

How did you know about my whistle?

Saw you in Moulins.

What, you followed me, like a real detective?

-There you are. -[ Gasps I]

Now, you better run along now.

And thanks again.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

I must speak with you. There's something --

What? What have you omitted to tell me?

The night before the countess died --

Someone broke into the chateau,

inserted the newspaper cutting into the prayer book.

How do you know?

I don't.

I'm making it up, just like you are.

It's true.

I heard a noise, and when I went down to investigate,

the front door was wide open.

Why didn't you tell me this before?

I was afraid you wouldn't believe me.

-I don't. -[ Telephone ringing ]

I swear to you, Chief Inspector.

Maigret.

Ah. Lucas.

Yes. Very good.

Ah. Thank you.

Yes. It's just what I expected.

Well, Metayer, suppose I accept your story.

Who was the intruder?

I'm sure it was the count himself.

Are you?

Why don't we both ask him together?

Now?

Why not?

No time like the present.

The chief inspector is here, sir.

Show him in.

Good afternoon, Count.

I believe you came here the night before your mother died.

Yes, it's true.

Why didn't you tell me?

Pride.

And shame.

I was desperate.

You understand?

[ Sighs ]

I thought I might get hold of my mother's jewels

so I could hock them.

I had to have the money to cover that check.

Don't you see?

Was that the only reason?

The only reason. I swear it.

He's lying.

Get out. You get out.

It must have been for the prayer book, mustn't it,

to insert the cutting?

-It was him. -How dare you?

You parasite!

That's enough.

You may go, Metayer.

If you wish to leave Saint-Fiacre, you can.

He wasn't the only person to notice your return, Count.

He's as guiltless as you are.

You may well detest him, and he may well detest you,

but you're both innocent.

Why don't you come along with me?

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Doorbell rings I]

Do you know why we're here?

I'm honored you should call, Count.

May I offer you some cognac?

Can we go in here, the study?

I was only ever allowed in there on Sundays.

Has it altered much?

Ah.

Good Lord, Gautier!

All this?

I-Inherited.

Uh, my wife's mother. All of it.

Um, her insurance matured.

She bought it all just before she died.

Do you seriously expect us to believe --

If I may, Count.

Of course, Chief Inspector.

Do go ahead -- your job.

Your deposit account in Paris, Gautier.

I assume it was your son who advised you to open it.

Too risky to open one in Moulins.

What account? I don't know what you're --

Emile audited the estate's accounts.

You told me so yourself.

And the surplus he siphoned off

went straight into your Paris account.

We've got all the details at our headquarters.

And when the family heirlooms were sold

to pay for your thieving,

again you, as bailiff, took your cut.

I deny it all. It's lies.

I don't suppose that will help Emile

when I charge him with murder.

Murder?

The countess died.

Have you forgotten that?

-But surely she -- -You knew it, didn't you?

You knew it all.

Emile covered up for you.

You covered up for him.

[ Vehicle approaching ]

Sounds like your son now.

[ Engine shuts off ]

[ Chickens clucking ]

Hello.

Chief Inspector.

We can talk in there.

In you go.

It's all over, Emile.

No.

Your father's right.

Your loyalty to him has led you from embezzlement to murder.

Did the countess start to suspect you?

Or was it simply jealousy?

Or were you simply jealous of Metayer for supplanting you?

Emile?

My mother?

Oh, yes.

You put the cutting in the prayer book, didn't you?

o] -- -Don't answer, Emile.

Don't say anything.

You called at the printers.

You knew Metayer went there often.

So what better place to print a false report?

A few francs to one of the staff,

then up to the countess's room

to slide the cutting into the prayer book.

You can't prove it.

Any court would throw it out.

Papa's right. I needn't say anything.

Of course, the real question is, why did you alert me in Paris?

I opened your letter.

"A crime will take place."

You wanted me to find out, didn't you?

You're a law-abiding citizen.

Why, you even reprimanded me for smoking in the cemetery.

Once you're in custody, you'll be all right, I promise.

No.

Oh, no.

No.

Come on!

Upstairs, quick.

Ohl

You don't get away with it like that.

-[ Gasps I] -Face the law.

And me.

Confess it so I hear it... so M. Maigret hears it.

Say it, boy. Say it!

[ Sobs ]

I loved her.

And I robbed her.

I hated her, too.

It was because of Metayer.

After he came, she wouldn't even look at me.

And you admit you had the cutting printed?

Yes.

Yes, I did.

At first...] wanted you to think Metayer had done it,

then the count.

You got young Ernest to tell me that, didn't you?

Excuse me. I can't stay in this room.

EMILE: [ Sobbing ]

Come on, Emile.

Up you get.

Come on.

[ Sobbing continues ]

[ Birds chirping ]

Ah. Thank you

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]