All language subtitles for NO_RESERVATIONS_COL5_PART2_DISC1.Title4-eng

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Siren wailing ]

MAIGRET:
It was a morning like this

when we first moved in here.

Do you remember?

MME. MAIGRET:
Of course I remember.

Is it really 11 years ago?

No. It's 12.

Mm.

Far too nice for work.

-[ Grunts lightly ]
-Don't go.

You're a senior police officer.

Give yourself the day off.

We could take a trip
to the country.

Where?

Meung-sur-Loire?

I'm not taking a day off

in order to go house-hunting
in the countryside.

Why?

Because I am not ready
to contemplate retirement.

Not for another...12 years.

11.

I shall be late for work.

However, you're quite right.

I am a senior police officer.

I'm entitled
to a cup of coffee.

I'm entitled
to be late for work.

Thank you, madame.

MAN:
Go on! Move it!

[ Indistinct shouting ]

-Ahl Got it!
-[ Alarm ringing ]

Come on! Come on!
Let's gol!

MAN #2:
I can't leave it herel

Get inl Quickly!

[ Tires screech ]

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Whistle blows ]

-Good morning, Chief.
-Ah.

Lovely morning it is, too,
Lucas.

You look a bit agitated.

I am, a bit.

There's been
another jewel robbery.

Whereabouts?

Just off
the Boulevard Montparnasse.

About half an hour ago.

-Who's dealing with it?
-Lapointe.

Excellent.
Good experience for him.

No need to be agitated.

Oh? Comeliau wants to see you.
He's phoned three times.

-Is that all?
-In the past half-hour?

Ah. That is a reason for
agitation -- for me, not you.

I better go and talk to him.

He probably
just wants to discuss

the delightful state
of the weather.

M. Maigret.

M. Comeliau.

Another jewel robbery, I'm told.

Inspector Lapointe
is at the scene.

How many is it now?

Too many.

73, I believe.
[ Sniffs ]

Over a period of seven years.

Correct.

That's a very long
investigation, Chief Inspector.

I am famous for my patience,
monsieur.

Well, the jewelers of Paris
are not patient, Maigret.

Many of them are wealthy men
with friends in high places.

Friends, perhaps,

in the department
of the examining magistrate?

[ Clears throat ]

That is possible.

The investigation
is proceeding.

Isn't it time
we had a culprit?

I know the culprit.
It's Manuel Palmari.

Mm.

Manuel Palmari,

who, from his apartment
in the Place de I'Auvergne,

organizes gangs
of young hoodlums from the south

and then disposes
of the stolen property

so that it disappears
without trace,

as do the hoodlums
from the south.

Precisely.

You've been telling
my department the same story

for the last seven years.

[ Typewriter dings ]

Because it's true.

And you've tapped his telephone

and maintained constant
surveillance on his apartment,

and still you have no evidence.

It could be someone else.

M. Comeliau,
I know it's Palmari.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I'd like to talk
to my friend Palmari.

Today might be the day
he confesses.

As ever, Chief Inspector,

I leave it
to your absolute discretion.

What have we discovered?

Same pattern -- two young men,
dark complexions, faces covered,

plus a driver and a lookout man.

They know
what they were looking for?

Yeah, one platinum pendant
and emeralds.

My wife likes emeralds.

But this is
the interesting thing --

For weeks, there's been nothing
of real value

on display in the window.

The dealer only got hold
of the emeralds last week,

and he put them on show
last Thursday.

-And they were stolen on Monday.
-Exactly.

So their information
is very good.

Mm.

It's my belief the thieves have
a very special method.

What method?

Somebody walks
around the streets of Paris,

looking in shop windows.

Mm.

I shall go and talk
to the master criminal.

Place de I'Auvergne.

[ Indistinct shouting ]

[ Hooves clopping ]

Any activity?

Aline left the apartment
at 9:00.

Lacoste and Bourellier
are following her.

You gonna talk to him?

Fourth floor, right-hand side.

Thank you, Janvier.

After all these years,
I know the way intimately.

Oh, is the lift working?

-Yes.
-Thank God for that.

Keep the change.

-[ Coin clinks ]
-You're too generous, monsieur.

[ Up-tempo jazz music
playing I

[ Rings ]

[ Music continues I]

Your boys were busy again
this morning, Manuel.

Wait. Be patient.

Listen.

[ Music continues I]

[ Music stops ]

Boys?
I have no boys.

Jeweler's shop off
the Boulevard du Montparnasse.

I repeat -- I have no boys.

You have a woman.

Aline?

Who is well capable
of taking messages to your boys.

Who cares for me and --
I like to think -- loves me.

And has a habit of disappearing
on mysterious errands

that always coincide
with the jewel robberies.

How many times must I tell you,
my friend?

I have retired.

I live here
in this comfortable room

with my books and my records.

Peaceful retirement.

You listen
to all my telephone calls.

You must have heard me
recommending peaceful retirement

to all my friends.

Indeed, I recommend it to you.

Policemen don't retire,
whatever their wives say.

Neither do gangsters.

Here.

[ Sniffs ]
Thank you very much.

Mm.

I was never a gangster.

I've been a businessman
for years.

Am I not the owner
of the Clou Dore,

one of the finest restaurants
in town?

I was there last week
with my wife.

The moules were passable.

Oh. Thank you.

I shall ask Aline to pass on
your compliments to the chef.

But I still don't believe you.

About what?

About retirement.

To be precise,
I retired two years ago.

No, thank you.

The night somebody shot me

as I came out of
the Clou Dore...

...leaving me like this.

It seemed to me that nature

was dropping a small hint
about retirement.

It seemed to me that one of
your business associates

was settling an old score.

Oh, probably a customer
who didn't enjoy the moules.

Probably a man called Mariani,

who was found a month
later floating facedown

in the harbor in Marseilles.

Oh.
Marseilles is a violent city.

You'll certainly find gangsters
in Marseilles, but not in Paris.

This is a city of culture,
books, music.

Civilized businessmen
living in retirement.

-[ Door opens I]
-[ Footsteps ]

Aline?

Aline, in here.

Hello, my lovely.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Smooches I]

What are you doing here?

My job, as usual.

I've been giving the
chief inspector a little advice.

[ Chuckles ]
Will he take it?

I doubt it.

So do I.

When you gonna stop
bothering us?

When you're both tried
and convicted, mademoiselle.

Can you guess
what happened today?

Someone else
was telling me to retire.

-M. Comeliau?
-Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

He'd love to see the back of me,
but he's too polite to say so.

No, it was somebody else.
A professional gangster.

-Really?
-And it's very odd.

I mean,
here we have M. Comeliau,

the examining magistrate,
a man of high breeding,

a pillar of integrity,
and I can't stand the man.

And then we have Palmari,
gangster and pimp --

probably a murderer, too,
even though it's secondhand --

and I quite like him.

It's certainly
an interesting idea.

What is?

We could have a little cottage
on the Loire.

With a garden and an orchard.

I can see you --
in your old clothes,

smoking your pipe,
tending your garden,

while I'm in the kitchen
preparing lunch.

Something miraculous
with aubergines, I think.

-What are you talking about?
-Our retirement.

It sounds lovely.
Don't you think so?

I think it sounds
extraordinarily tedious.

Oh, Jules.

Oh, this is delicious,
you know?

-Ah.
-[ Chuckles ]

Why don't you open a restaurant?

I have been through
seven years of files.

There isn't a shred of
real evidence against Palmari.

So?

You're working
for Chief Inspector Maigret now.

But this isn't an investigation.
It's an obsession.

-MAIGRET: Obsession?
-[ Door closes I]

Well, perhaps I used
the wrong word, sir.

Or perhaps you used
the right word.

Ah. Palmari.

Yes. An obsession.

May I ask the reason?

The reason is easy --
fingerprints.

No, you won't find it
in the files.

I don't mean
actual fingerprints.

You look at a drawing
by Picasso,

you don't need a signature.

You simply know, "This is
the work of Pablo Picasso."

You listen to an aria by Mozart,

your ears tell you,
"This is the work of..."

-[ Telephone rings ]
-"...Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

I look
at these jewel robberies,

and I know this is the work
of Manuel Palmari.

Just a moment.

Chief?

-What is it?
-Palmari.

He wants to speak to me?

Doesn't want to speak to anyone.
He's been murdered.

Aline left the building
at 9:00.

I followed her.

She went to the greengrocer's,
then the patisserie,

then the laundry, and then --

We'll check
the shopping list later.

Was she out of your sight
at any time?

No.

And then, uh, she returned
to her apartment when?

-5 to 10:00.
-Mm-mm. And then what?

Nothing --
until quarter past 10:00,

when she opened the window
and shouted for help.

Are the local police
up there now?

Yes.
But they know you're coming.

They usually do.
See you later.

Well...

You satisfied now?

On the contrary, mademoiselle.

-Is this the gun?
-So they say.

-Have you seen it before?
-It belonged to Manuel.

LUCAS:
Smith & Wesson .38.

Where's it usually kept?

In the daytime,
behind the radio,

where Manuel could reach it.

At night, by the bed.

A professional's weapon.

[ Door opens I]

Good morning, Chief Inspector.

Ah, yes.
May we start?

All done, Moers.
It's all yours.

What are you going to
do with him?

Fingerprints, photographs.
The usual sort of thing.

Did you pick up the gun?

I haven't touched it.

Lucas, you know what to do.

You come with me.

Where are you taking me?
The Quai des Orfévres?

Not unless you want to plead
guilty to the murder of Manuel.

Don't be stupid.

In that case,
in here would do very nicely.

-How long will this take?
-I don't know.

A day, a week, a month, a year.

I'm a very patient man,
as you know.

Why did they have to
pick on Manuel?

They?

-Whoever it was.
-You don't know?

It's not fair.

Life has many properties,
Aline.

Fairness isn't one of them.

All he had was in that room --

his books, his music,
his radiogram.

And you.

Well, obviously.

Do you have a lover?

Of course not.

-Forgive me for asking.
-No, I don't forgive you.

My reason for asking is simple.

We've had you under surveillance
for several years now.

Yes. I had noticed.

And on regular intervals,
you give my men the slip.

They lose you.

So, what conclusions
am I to draw?

You have lousy policemen.

Either you've been indulging
in criminal activities --

probably related
to the jewel robberies --

or you have a lover.

Maybe both.

But I'll give you
the benefit of the doubt.

Listen --
This morning Manuel was killed.

I want to know who did it.
It's your job to find out.

Now, why don't you
get on with it?

Very well.

You left the apartment at 9:00,
returned at 5 to 10:00,

reported the killing
to the police at 10:15.

Is that correct?

Ask your men.
They watch everything I do.

Now, when you came home, you
went straight into the kitchen.

That's what I normally do
when I return with my shopping.

Another thing you usually do
is go into Manuel's room, say,

"Hello, my lovely,"
and give him a kiss.

Yes.

What did you find?

You know what I saw.

You saw it yourself,
for God's sake.

Did you pick up the gun?

I told you before --
I haven't touched it.

So, what did you do?

Whatever it was,
you did it for 20 minutes.

I don't know what I did.

What would you have done?

I'd have called a doctor.

I know death when I see it.

And then I'd have called
the police.

I did.

After 20 minutes.

20 minutes, 20 minutes.

What's so special
about 20 minutes?

Well, it's long enough to remove

any compromising documents
or objects from the apartment.

Large sums of cash.
Pieces of jewelry.

Listen, I'll tell you
what I did.

I cried.

And then I prayed.

I know it sounds stupid

because I don't believe
in their lousy God,

but it gets you
in spite of yourself.

Got down
on my hands and knees,

and I prayed
for Manuel's immortal soul.

Then I called the police.

Do I take it
that you loved Manuel?

Of course I loved him.

It is a reasonable question,
though, yes?

An older man.

Successful in business --
of a kind.

He finds a younger woman
working behind a bar.

She's very pretty.
He's very rich.

It has been known to happen.

Believe me, Chief Inspector,

I'm brighter
than the average barmaid.

I cannot be bought.

I believe you.

Moers?

-Yes, sir?
-We're gonna need the paraffin.

Paraffin?

It proves whether or not you've
handled a firearm this morning.

You don't believe
I killed Manuel.

No, as a matter of fact,
I don't.

But our M. Comeliau
requires proof,

which is odd, really,

‘cause I know for a fact
he believes in God.

Thank you, mademoiselle.

-When will we know?
-10 minutes?

-And the rest?
-Middle of the afternoon.

Wonderful.

Don't leave
the apartment, Aline.

Why not?

It could be your turn next.

I'll see you after lunch.

Thank you for recommending
the rillettes.

They were wonderful.

It's a good place
for a surveillance operation.

Now, what's been happening --
tell me --

the comings and goings
since 9:00.

Aline left to go shopping
at 9:00.

10 past, the concierge
shook her mat on the doorstep.

Tell me about the concierge.

-She hates us.
-Why?

She regards our watching the
building as a personal insult.

That could be useful.

Next?

Quarter past 9:00,

Mlle. Lavancher
left with her portfolio.

Lavancher?

First floor, right-hand side,
as we look at the building.

She goes to art school.

Her father
is a Metro inspector.

Do you know
any of the tenants?

A few.
Only by sight.

We tried to be discreet,

except where Aline and Manuel
were concerned.

She's very bright.

Aline?

Much more intelligent
than Manuel.

The question is,
which side is she on?

Sorry?

If she didn't
pull the trigger,

somebody else must have done,

representing, let's say,
a rival business interest.

Do you think think it's possible
she might have changed sides?

Well, she always seemed
totally loyal to Manuel.

Waited on him hand and foot.

And prayed for him.

-Really?
-She told me so.

Of course, she might well
have been praying for herself.

Ah, forensics!
Bringers of truth and wisdom.

-Sit yourself down.
-Thank you.

She didn't fire the gun.

Now, let's be precise.

There are no marks on her hands
to indicate she fired the gun.

Correct.

Could she have worn gloves?

Well, yes.

Fingerprints?

Nothing on the gun.
Nothing on the door handle.

She always wore gloves
to go shopping.

-She needs protection.
-Does she?

I can recommend
the rillettes.

Sir?

Thank you.

Is he always like that?

-Like what?
-Well, vague.

Whatever that is, my friend,
it isn't vague.

Protection?
I don't need protection.

[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays I]

Sergeant Lucas will stay
with you for the moment.

Someone will relieve him
in an hour,

and somebody else this evening.

Every eight hours,
a fresh face.

Why do I need protection?
I can take care of myself.

Now, let's not be sentimental
about this, Aline.

Manuel was
a professional gangster.

He knew the ropes.

He carried a gun with him
everywhere he went,

yet he ended up dead.

Now, if they can do that to him,
what chance do you stand?

-I'll take my chance.
-No, you won't.

You don't have the choice.

All my men
are thoroughly house-trained.

-Whatever you say.
-Excellent.

Where's the nighttime policeman
going to sleep?

He doesn't.
He stays awake.

All my men stay awake
all the time.

[ Yawns ]
We're specially trained.

The only other thing
is the rubber gloves.

Rubber gloves?

The ones you use in the kitchen.
May I take them away with me?

Thank you.

Another one.

-Another what?
-Policeman.

Chief Inspector Maigret.

I know.
I've seen you in the papers.

You might be famous, but I don't
want to be seen talking to you.

All I want
is a list of the tenants.

Oh, I don't know
if I can do that.

Why not?

I'll have to ask
the landlady's permission.

Well, give me her name and
address, and I'll write to her.

Or is she on the telephone?

She lives in the building.

But she won't want to be
bothered after what's happened.

The building belongs
to Aline?

To Mlle. Bauche?

Of course it does.

Didn't you know?

And you call yourselves
detectives.

We call ourselves detectives?

Imagine -- Aline Bauche,
a woman of property.

It isn't a crime
to own property.

According to some philosophies,
all property is theft.

But with respect, Chief,
it hasn't caught on --

as a philosophy, I mean.

Well, how about the purchase
of property, paid for by theft?

That's why we're here, sir.

[ Sighs ]

What you playing?

Patience.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

MAIGRET: Right.
That's that out of the way.

Now, Lucas, the medical report.

Palmari was shot three times.

The bullet that killed him was
fired from the right-hand side,

almost point-blank
through the temple.

And according
to the forensic report,

all three bullets were fired
from his own Smith & Wesson.

Was anything found
on the kitchen gloves?

Nothing.
Clean as a whistle.

Mm-hmm.
Lapointe, anything on the money?

Yeah, Aline has a bank account
in her own name

at the branch
of the Crédit Lyonnais

in the
Avenue de la Grande-Armée.

And once a week
she deposits returns

from the Clou Dore restaurant.

No other bank accounts,

and nothing was found
at the apartment.

Money must be somewhere.

-Invested in property.
-Or in a good hiding place.

Now, Inspector Janvier, you've
been doing the real hard work.

These are the people
who live in the apartment block.

May we be introduced?

I don't know them all that well,
but I'll tell you what I can.

Ground floor -- the concierge.

That old dragon.

Jean Chabaud, who does sports
commentaries for the radio.

I've heard him.
He knows nothing about cycling.

A prerequisite for the job.

And next door to him,
Mlle. Jeanine Herel,

who calls herself a chiropodist.

She's not the first.

Apparently she really is
a chiropodist.

Hal

Now, come on. A friend of mine
was murdered this morning.

Sorry, Chief.

Going up in the lift,
if it's working,

Francois Vignon, who works
for an insurance company.

Married with two small children.

And to the right,

Jacques Lavancher,
Metro inspector.

On the next floor,
Mabel Tuppler,

journalist from America.

And next door to her,
a retired couple -- the Maupois.

Third floor, left-hand side,

Jean Destouches,
physical training instructor.

He goes out
at 8:00 in the morning.

Also goes out most evenings,
returning late, rarely alone.

And to the right,

Fernand Barillard,
commercial traveler.

I hate commercial travelers.
They sell you things.

Barillard lives with his wife.

She's Belgian, sings all day.
No children.

And directly above them,
the Palmari apartment,

scene of the crime.

MAIGRET:
And under strict surveillance.

JANVIER: And on the same floor,
Gino Massoletti,

Paris representative
for an Italian car firm.

Newly wed.
Very pretty wife.

And moving up,
top floor left,

Tony Pasquier,
second barman at the Ritz.

Wife and two children.

Top floor right, James Stuart.
Englishman and bachelor.

Leaves his apartment at 5:00 in
the afternoon, returns at dawn.

No known profession.

Finally, the garrets
in the attic --

the first four are occupied by
maids who work in the building.

And next to them, Jeff Claes.

Old man, war refugee.

Lives alone.
Deaf and dumb.

Ideal witness.

And finally,
Mlle. Josette,

the oldest inhabitant.

Collects caged birds, does her
own cleaning and shopping,

and refuses to use the lift.

MAIGRET: Do you realize
what we're looking at?

An apartment building
in the Place de I'Auvergne.

A cross section of Paris --

men, women, and children,

all with their own history,
their own morality.

I make it 30 in all.

I've lost count.

Statistically, one or two of
them are bound to be criminals.

What about murderers?
Statistically.

The examining magistrate won't
accept statistics as evidence.

Nor will I.

I have to meet Lapointe
in the Clou Dare at 7:00,

which gives me a couple of hours
to chat the neighbors

and perform
a small official duty.

-Chief Inspector.
-Everything all right?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Jacques.
Well done.

Ah. Thank you.

-Excuse me.
-Ah.

Who's winning?

Next time send somebody
who can play poker.

Aline, it's my official duty
to tell you

that the postmortem examination
is now complete.

So, now you're going to
arrest me?

You have to decide
where you want the body.

You can call the undertakers
in the morning.

Well, he lived here, didn't he?
He can come home.

Is there anything
I can do to help?

Inform the family?

He had no family.
I was his family.

Or his solicitor?
The staff at the Clou Dore?

Newspapers?

I don't know
why you're asking me.

You'll do what you like, anyway.

Well, if there is
anything I can do,

I shall be in the building
for the next hour.

In the building?

Talking to the tenants.
Your tenants.

You pursue your official duties,
Chief Inspector,

and I'll pursue mine.

-Have you eaten today?
-l1 can take care of myself.

Inspector Janvier
will be here this evening.

He makes a wonderful omelet.

Go to hell.

[ Woman singing indistinctly ]

[ Vacuum cleaner whirring ]

[ Rings ]

[ Whirring, singing stop I]

Good afternoon.
Or is it evening?

-What are you selling?
-Police Judiciaire.

Ahh. Is it about what happened
this morning?

What do you know about
what happened this morning?

Well, I heard all the noise
and fuss, so I had a look.

I'm a bit of a nosey parker.
Is that terrible?

From my point of view, it's
admirable, Mme. Barillard.

-It is Mme. Barillard?
-Of course it is.

But it's always wise to check,
especially in Paris.

-Come in.
-Thank you.

[ Door closes ]

Did you know Manuel Palmari?

No.
He never went out.

We sometimes
heard him shouting.

-Shouting?
-Yeah, they had rows.

Even though
they weren't married?

We don't have rows.
Do you?

Oh, my wife and I have what
you'd call animated discussions.

Your husband home
from work yet?

He's a traveler, so he doesn't
work regular hours.

-What does he sell?
-Little boxes.

His firm's
about to change their name.

They're going to call themselves
packaging consultants,

but basically
it's still boxes.

Mm.

So, what did you hear
this morning,

in your role as a nosey parker?

Well, I heard the noise.

What noise?

Your colleagues.
Some of them are quite loud.

No, thank you.
That's true.

So I opened my door,
and I peeped out.

They were carrying the body
out of the apartment.

There seemed to be
some sort of a debate

as to whether it would be
bad taste to use the lift.

Yes, we often face philosophical
dilemmas of that kind.

Tell me -- What did you hear
earlier this morning?

Earlier?

Oh, I went shopping early,
about 8:00.

Had your husband
left for work yet?

Well, he was finishing
his breakfast as I left.

I returned
about half past 9:00.

And then of course he'd gone?

Oh, yes, he'd be deep
into the suburbs by then.

After you returned,
did you hear any shots fired?

No.

But I had the wireless on
and I sing and I talk to myself,

and I'm not sure I'd
recognize shots if I heard them.

I mean, you don't expect
your neighbors

to be murdered, do you?

Not in an ideal world, no.

But it isn't, is it --
an ideal world?

No.
Alas, it isn't.

Am I permitted
to give some advice?

Please feel free.

Mlle. Josette,
who lives in the attic --

Now, she is the nosiest parker
in the building.

And she's not quite as mad
as she seems.

-Thank you, madame.
-My pleasure.

Ahl
Let me guess -- Mr. Stuart?

-Yes, I'm Stuart.
-Chief Inspector Maigret.

Jolly good.

Investigating on the murder
of Manuel Palmari.

Sorry.
Never heard of the chap.

Are you going out
for the evening?

Grab something to eat,
then off to work.

What sort of work do you do?

Mainly roulette.
Sometimes bridge, backgammon.

Oh, well, I wish you
the best of luck.

It isn't luck.
It's percentages.

In that case, I wish you
the best of luck

with your percentages.

Ah.
Keep up the good work.

Yeah.

Don't!

Bam. Bam.
You're dead.

[ Groans ]

This time I'll let you off
with a caution.

Ugh. Ooh.

[ Bird chirping ]

[ Bird cooing I]

[ Door creaks ]

M. Claes?

You're deaf and dumb?

But you can lip-read?

May I sit?

Thank you.

Do you -- Did you know a man
called Manuel Palmari?

What about the woman
he lived with, Aline Bauche?

Lives two floors down.

You've met her on the stairs?

[ Chuckles ] Yes.

An attractive woman.

[ Gasps I]

Time?

Time passing?

Too late?

Ahl
Too late for attractive woman?

And this makes you feel sad?

Do you know something,
my friend?

I feel that sadness, too.

[ Chuckles ]

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must
go and talk to Mlle. Josette.

A chatterbox?

Thank you for talking to me.

[ Door opens I]

[ Bird cawing ]

Good morning, mademoiselle.

Good morning, monsieur.

[ Birds chirping ]

You know about what happened
this morning?

I know there was a death.

Did you know M. Palmari?

Well, we all live
in the same building,

but we never know each other.

We talked briefly on the stairs
and in the hall.

Not that people are unkind.

They've always been
very kind to me.

Who in the block
is most kind to you?

Mlle. Herel, the chiropodist.

She looks after my feet.
Without charges.

[ Chuckles ]

There's nothing wrong
with my feet.

But it's a kind thought.

Then M. Claes, the deaf mute.

He gave me a model.

A model?

Yes.

There.

Ahh.

Of your parrot.

It's supposed to be.

But it's not
a very good likeness.

The -- The poor man.
He means well.

M. Barillard --
He gives me boxes.

Boxes?

Admittedly, they aren't
of any great use to me.

But again, it's a kind thought.

Would you like any of them?

Well, I...

Take this for your wife.

You obviously have
a very good wife.

How can you tell?

It shows.

I'd like that very much.

Just a small one, then.

Aline Bauche.

Was she kind to you?

Neither kind nor unkind.

She keeps her distance.

And Manuel, before his accident,
when he was mobile --

Did he keep his distance?

No.
I kept my distance.

Somebody told me
he was a gangster.

I've never consorted
with gangsters.

I think you're very wise.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Birds squawks ]

[ Tires screech ]

Thought I told you
to wait inside.

I've got some information

from Palmari's solicitor
about this place.

It's important you know about it
before we go in.

What is it?

[ Door opens I]

[ Mid-tempo piano music
playing I

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Good evening, Chief Inspector.

Good evening, sir.
What can I get you?

-Beer. Beer?
-Beer.

Two beers.

I know that face.

Mean anything to you?

-No.
-Keep an eye on him.

And how much for the beers,
monsieur?

I think we could stand
a couple of beers on the house.

Do you have something
to celebrate, M. Pernelle?

On the contrary.
It's a very sad day.

Why is it a sad day?

We heard the news
about Manuel.

-When?
-Lunchtime.

Who told you the news?

Someone in the bar.
I-1 don't remember who.

These things get around.

It hasn't been
in the newspapers.

Even so.

Very well.
Concentrate.

I can suggest a few names.

An Italian
called Massoletti.

He deals in cars.

A physical-training instructor
called Destouches.

Tony Pasquier.

Oh, I know Tony.
Barman from the Ritz.

-Was he here at lunchtime?
-JUSTIN: No.

We haven't seen him for weeks.

He sometimes
sends us customers --

tourists wanting a taste
of genuine Montmartre.

So let me try James Stuart,
an English gentleman gambler.

No?

Fernand Barillard,
commercial traveler.

Or maybe a woman --
an American journalist.

I really don't remember.

I'm sorry.
[ Chuckles ]

So let me ask you
something else, M. Pernelle.

What does it feel like to be
the new owner of the Clou Dore?

[ Laughs ]

How did you know?

It's all on the public record,
if you know where to look.

You bought it last week.

Yes.

From Aline.

There's nothing illegal
about buying a restaurant.

Things happen in threes.
Have you noticed?

A restaurant is sold.
A jeweler's is robbed.

A man is Killed.

Rule of three.

Do you see much of Aline?

She came in once a week
to check the accounts and so on.

Alone?

Yes.

Always?

Yes.

Always alone, yes.
She's a very independent lady.

Oh, lots of independent ladies
take lovers.

They decide.

It's proof of independence.

We haven't seen any lovers,
have we, Justin?

Lapointe.

That man who's just left --
What's his name?

Uh -- Uh, we -- we know him
as Monsieur...

-Louis.
-Louis. Louis.

Louis.

-Louis.
-Louis.

Louis?

What's he do?

Oh, he -- he drinks a lot.

Backs horses.

Does he win?

He drinks expensive.

Does he drink alone?

Not always.

Who does he drink with?

Well, if he's not alone,
he must be with somebody.

That's a fact of life.

Uh, usually young men.

-Ah.
-We assumed...

It's an obvious thing
to assume.

Did you pay cash?

I'm sorry?

When you bought the restaurant,
did you pay cash?

Yes.

I wish you joy of
your restaurant, M. Pernelle.

I need hardly remind you

that to run a successful
business in Montmartre

depends in large measure
on maintaining

a good relationship
with the police department.

A word.

-That man.
-M. Louis.

He went to a bar
across the street.

He made a telephone call.

I managed to get close enough
to see the number he dialed.

Ah, the eyesight of youth.

Etoile 42-38.

Oh. You do it.

Ah, hello.
I'm sorry to dist--

Mme. Barillard?

Could you tell me --
Is your husband home from work?

[ Rings ]

[ Clears throat ]

M. Maigret.
How nice to see you again.

Hello, madame.
This is Inspector Lapointe.

-May we speak to your husband?
-Of course. Come in.

-MAIGRET: Thank you.
-Nice to see you again.

MAIGRET: Thank you.

Thank you.

Well, we've just eaten,

but perhaps I can offer you
some coffee?

Oh, that's not necessary,
madame.

We're simply here to fill in
a few gaps in our investigation.

I'm not sure
I can be any help.

Did you have
a long round today?

In the Lilas district.

-By car?
-Yes.

Uh, what make?

A Peugeot 203.
Is this a cross-examination?

[ Chuckles ]

Do you carry a tray of samples
with you?

-Naturally.
-May we see them?

FERNAND: May I ask whether
you've made similar requests

to other people
in the building?

Not yet, M. Barillard.

And you have every right
not to agree to my request,

in which case
I will call up

a very agreeable
examining magistrate,

who will send an orderly around
with a search warrant

or, if necessary,
a warrant for your detention.

What's going on, Fernand?

Nothing is going on.

I prefer to talk business
in my study.

What's happening,
Chief Inspector?

The men want to be alone.

You work for Gelot and Sons
in the Avenue des Gobelins?

Yes.

Ask them.
I'm sure they'll remember.

Did you have a telephone call
about an hour ago?

I have telephone calls
all the time.

-From a friend?
-From clients.

Confectioners? Perfumiers?
Jewelers?

Are those your clients?

Obviously.

We also had a call from you
this evening.

But the man who telephoned you

about a quarter of an hour
before we did --

Was he a client?

Yes.

What did he want?

A price list.

What's his name?

I don't remember.

If you don't remember
his name,

it will be very difficult for
you to send him a price list.

I made a note somewhere.

Don't bother yourself.

His name is M. Louis.

M. Louis?
I've never heard of him.

So you said, "Hello, M. Louis.
You have the wrong number.

Let's forget
the price lists."

I've no idea
what you're talking about.

This M. Louis
who telephoned you --

Is he a friend or a client?

Neither.

Your denial is duly noted.

Anyway, we shall be consulting
your employers tomorrow

to compare our lists
with their lists.

Lists? What lists?

Their lists of jewelers

visited by their top salesman,
Fernand Barillard,

over the last seven years.

Our lists of jewelers robbed
over the last seven years.

I do my job.
I work hard.

I earn a good living.

How long have you been
Aline Bauche's lover?

If you'd have said
that in front of my wife,

I'd have
knocked your face in.

Excellent.

You've saved yourself
the additional charge

of assaulting
a police officer.

If you're serious about charging
me, go ahead and charge me.

Probably tomorrow.

Meanwhile,
I'm sure Inspector Lapointe

has noted the following --
You deny knowing M. Louis.

You deny knowing Aline Bauche.

You deny any involvement
with the jewel robberies.

And presumably you also deny
any involvement

with the murder
of Manuel Palmari.

Of course I deny it.

Excellent.
We all know where we stand.

Well, that'll be all
for today.

Don't attempt
to leave the building.

If you do,
you'll be followed.

Aline Bauche
is under police protection,

so I wouldn't advise you
to try and make contact there.

We shall also listen to
your telephone calls, as well,

just to be on the safe side.

Well, I think that covers
everything, don't you?

Yes, I think
that's fairly comprehensive.

Good night, monsieur.

Did you mean to frighten him?

Fear --
It's our only chance.

We know the crime.
We know the criminals.

But we have no evidence.

We have
circumstantial evidence.

Where is the stolen property?
Where is the money?

And we're still one short.

One short?

Aline Bauche,
Fernand Barillard, and one more.

-M. Louis?
-No.

He's a only a runner.
He doesn't count.

What are you doing?

I'm trying to complete
the triangle.

With my earrings?

There's something about them.

They're very pretty.

Yes. That too.

-Chief Inspector Maigret.
-Good morning, sir.

-What happened?
-What's that, sir?

-[ Engines revving ]
-Yesterday you assur--

Yesterday you assur--

Oh, let's go inside!

Yesterday you assured me
beyond all reasonable doubt

that Manuel Palmari
was the head

of a major
criminal organization.

Now he's dead.

The two things
are not mutually exclusive.

There are questions
to be answered.

I think you'll find
that Palmari, so to speak,

put the business
in his wife's name.

Not that they were married,
of course.

No, of course.
That would be too simple.

I think you'll also find
the real organizer

is a commercial traveler
who sells cardboard boxes.

[ Sighs ]

The more you explain,
the less I comprehend.

If you'd like to hear
the full story --

No, no, no.

I leave it to your total
and absolute discretion.

[ Muffled ] Ah!
M. Maigret!

I need to see youl

I'm busy!

I have something very important
to tell you.

Give me the immigration service,
please, will you?

Well, carry on.

I'll tell you
if it's very important.

Aline Bauche.
She owns a hotel.

Call you back
in five minutes.

Which hotel?

The Hotel Bussiere
in the Rue d'Etoile.

Why didn't you tell me this
last night?

I didn't know.

After you left, it came up
in the course of conversation.

And since then you've
given thought to what I told you

about maintaining a good
relationship with the police.

That too.

Hotel Bussiere?

We used to raid that place
when I was a young policeman.

What's it like?
Has it changed much?

Has it become elegant,
like the Clou Dore?

I don't know.

I'm a family man.

Are you?

Yes.

What's the informed opinion

among the experts
leaning on your bar?

You need to speak
to the night porter.

But I understand
it hasn't changed very much

since your younger days.

Thank God for that.

I hate Paris
when it gets respectable.

I preferred it tawdry.

But, then,
I'm sentimental like that.

Well, thank you very much,
M. Pernelle.

You may now go about
your respectable business.

Immigration, please.

Lucas! Lapointe!

Hello, monsieur.

Ah.
No, thank you, mademoiselle.

I'm on a very strict diet.

[ Woman laughing ]

[ Elevator bell dings ]

Is it for the night
or for the hour?

I don't want a room.

Well, you're wasting your time.
Rooms -- That's what we've got.

Do you know this woman?

Depends who's asking.

Maigret?

Does that say Maigret?

That's who's doing
the asking.

Well, I'll take another look.

Tell me the truth.

Don't tell me
what you think I want to hear.

Well, uh,
obviously I know her.

It's Mme. Bauche.

She owns the place.

Does she have a room here?

Two.
A bedroom and a sitting room.

She calls it a suite.

Do you have a key
to the suite?

There's only one key
to the suite.

She's got it.

How often
does she come here?

Oh, uh, once a week.
Does the money.

Where does she keep
the money?

-In a safe.
-Where's the safe?

[ Dings ]

Mm.

-In the suite.
-Mm-hmm.

Does she come here alone?

-Sometimes.
-Sometimes not?

Sometimes not.

With a man?

[ Footsteps I]

Yes.

Always the same man?

[ Sighs ]

-Yes.
-Description.

I'm not very good
at descriptions.

Try. Start with age.
How old is he?

In his 30s?

Fat? Thin? Tall? Short?
Smart? Scruffy?

Flash.

Really?

Yes, he's a flash bastard.
With a Peugeot.

Thanks very much.

There will be a policeman
watching the hotel.

Don't worry.
It's nothing to do with you.

And if anyone asks,

you haven't seen me.

That applies to everyone
who comes here.

-Does he know what to do?
-Yep.

Do it.

[ Tires screech ]

Lucas, this morning
I completed the triangle.

What triangle, Chief?

Aline Bauche, Fernand Barillard,
and the stonecutter --

the man who resets and recuts
all the stolen jewels.

But, Chief, I checked
all the cutters in Paris.

Double-checked.

Oh, the official ones, yes.

But our man
isn't on the records.

Our man works alone, at home,
in a back room.

How did you find him, then?

Last night, I was looking
at a pair of my wife's earrings.

They intrigued me.

I knew there was
something about them.

Then this morning
I remembered --

We bought them from a little
old man in the Rue Lafayette.

He was a war refugee,
a refugee from Brussels --

one of the main
stonecutting centers in Europe.

Sorry, Chief.
I still haven't made the link.

Claes.

The old deaf-and-dumb man
in the attic.

What about him?

The immigration people
have confirmed --

He was a war refugee
from Belgium.

Ah, he makes models.

Exactly!

I watched him at work.

Hands quick, precise,
steady as a rock.

I watched him.

I didn't see
what I was looking for.

Damn!

Madame, have you seen
M. Claes today?

I mind my own business,
monsieur.

This may be important.

Is there any part of the
building we haven't seen yet?

-A basement, for instance?
-Yes.

Some of the tenants
have got storerooms there.

He's got one --
"Flash" Fernand.

M. Barillard?

-Thank you, madame.
-Yes, but he doesn't --

[ Doorbell rings I]

-Yes?
-Your husband.

-Well, he's in bed.
-We want to see him here now.

-I'll ask him, but --
-Tell him to get his keys.

We need to look
in the basement.

MME. BARILLARD: Could you wait
until he's properly dressed?

MAIGRET: No.

This is madness.

For once, M. Barillard,
you and I are in total accord.

Where's your storeroom?

'Round the corner,
second on the right.

Lucas.

Chief.

He was a craftsman.

Perhaps even an artist.

Chief Inspector,
I hardly know --

Get that bastard
out of my sight!

-Come on!
-He asked to borrow my room.

I know nothing about him!

I demand to see my lawyer!

Let me see my bloody lawyer,
damn youl

Forgive me, my friend.

Perhaps you can hear me now.

M. Maigret, where's Fernand?

Give me 10 minutes, madame.
I'll explain everything.

[ Dog barking ]

-Is she behaving herself?
-She's gone a bit quiet.

-How was the omelet?
-Magnificent.

Can I take it for granted

she hasn't left the apartment
or used the phone?

How long
have I worked for you?

Forgive me, Inspector.

It's all over, Aline.

What is?

Everything.
The day of judgment is at hand.

I wonder when it turned sour.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

Manuel.

He adored you.

He gave you everything
you wanted.

He even signed his property
over to you,

allowed you to come and go
as you pleased...

...while he stayed here...

[ Wheels squeaking ]

...in this chair.

Don't do that.

He lived too long,
didn't he?

You realized that he could go on
for another 15 years.

Maybe the best thing to do
would be to sell everything,

take the money, run off,

and find true love
with a man of your own age.

I didn't kill him.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Whether or not you pulled
the trigger is irrelevant.

You're certainly guilty.

[ Wheels squeaking ]

A confession
would save a lot of time.

Something like,
"On the morning in question,

I left the apartment as usual
to go shopping,

slipped his revolver
into my handbag,

and later, out on the landing,

passed it to my friend,
neighbor, and lover,

Fernand Barillard.

I don't know what happened next.
You'll have to ask him.”

How's that
for a possible confession?

What have you done
with Fernand?

He's at police headquarters.

I'll be talking to him later
about both murders.

Both?

The old man -- the stone setter.

But he was --

Innocent. Is that what
you were going to say?

I don't know
what I was gonna say!

Time to go.

...need to shower
and get dressed.

We'll wait.

-It wasn't my ideal
-I don't care.

-Fernand did everything.
-But you helped him.

Between you and Barillard,
we have two murders --

one innocent man --

And one gangster.
You said so yourself.

Oh, to be sure, a gangster.

But I liked him.

For awhile I thought I might
get to like you, Aline.

But I could never like
your traveling salesman.

Just look
at what he sold you.

Now, go and make yourself pretty
for the examining magistrate.

Now, I've told you everything
I know about your husband.

Will you tell me everything
you know about M. Claes?

[ Sighs ]
Do I have to?

Get it all out of your system
as quickly as possible.

Makes it easier
to start again.

Before you were married,
was your name Claes?

Yes.

So the old man was your
grandfather or uncle perhaps?

-No relation.
-No?

We pretended.

Tell me.

In 1940,

I was at the railway station
in Douai on the Belgian border.

-The bombing?
-Mm-hmm.

I was 8 years old.

I can't remember
very much about it.

I've read about it since.
I...

I don't know whether I remember
what happened

or I remember
what I've read.

Is that strange?

Not at all.

Hundreds of refugees were
killed, including my family.

I remember wandering about,
looking for my parents, and...

...searching for them
and not finding them and...

And then I remember looking
for a grown-up, any grown-up,

and -- and there was this man.

His head was bleeding
and he looked lost,

and he seemed very old,

though I suppose he wasn't,
but to a child...

And so you adopted
each other.

I suppose we did.

Even though
he couldn't speak.

It was
a question of survival.

I was 8 years old.
He was Jewish.

I see.

Do you remember
his real name?

He wrote it for me on a piece of
paper for me -- Victor Krulak.

He was born in Antwerp,
but his family was from Latvia.

His father
and his grandfather

had worked
in the diamond business.

I remember
he kept a few gold pieces

sewn into a canvas belt
under his shirt.

They were his savings.

They kept us going
through the war.

And so he brought you up,
sent you to school?

Yes.

Then after the war
he did odd jobs

for various jewelers
in Paris.

When I left school,
I started work as a salesgirl

at a jeweler's
in the Boulevard Beaumarchais.

And one day in walked
a handsome young salesman --

Fernand Barillard.

We'll leave the rest of the
story for another day, shall we?

[ Voice breaking ] Will there be
another day?

Undoubtedly.

[ Sighs ]

After today, I'm not sure
I want any more days.

There will.

[ Sighs ]

I promise.

I hope this is goodbye
and not au revoir.

As soon as my men have finished
their work in the basement.

Good.

Although I might allow myself a
beer before I leave the square.

It's been a pleasure, madame.

Did we get
the medical reports?

The old man was killed
by a blow to the head.

Whoever it was tried to make it
look as if he'd hung himself.

Barillard.
I hate amateurs.

-I mean, why kill him?
-He was an accomplice.

-He couldn't speak.
-He could express himself.

That's something
people are very frightened of.

-Two beers, please, Albert.
-Monsieur.

[ Grunts ]

I shall miss this place.

-The apartment block?
-No. The bistro.

Of course.

True sophistication.

-The bistro?
-No. The apartment building.

True sophistication
is absolute simplicity.

Like a Picasso drawing.
Half a dozen lines. Genius.

The jewel robberies
were a work of genius?

They had the merit
of simplicity.

Too simple for me to see.

Everything we wanted
was in that block.

We stared at it for years,
and we didn't see it.

-Monsieur.
-Thank you.

Well...

Well done, Lapointe.
And welcome.

Thank you.

You can now have
24 hours sleep.

What about you, sir?

Oh, office,
preliminary interviews,

paperwork for M. Comeliau.

Is it any wonder I prefer the
company of elderly gangsters?

Aah!

What have you told them,
you stupid bitch?!

Why did you kill the old man,
you --

-[ Spits ]
-[ Spits ]

Get off mel

Hold her back, Janvier!

Janvier, get her back!

Aah!

Cow!
You stupid cow!

Separate cells, I think.

I'll kill you for this!
Do you hear me?!

You're dead!
Do you hear me?!

You're dead!

Bitch!

COMELIAU:
Come in, Chief Inspector.

Good evening, sir.

-Please sit down.
-[ Door closes I]

Did you enjoy the opera?

Ah.
[ Clears throat ]

Well, I was enjoying the opera
very much indeed

until I got your message.

However, a very efficient
piece of work, Chief Inspector.

Thank you, sir.

Eventually.

One can't always rush
these matters.

Hmm.

Item one -- the jewel robberies.

You've identified the items
found in the safe

in the Hotel Bussiere?

They were part
of an earlier robbery.

There was a large amount
of cash, too.

The hotel was
their operational headquarters.

Mm-hmm.

And the emeralds
in the basement.

Yes, that's fine.

Item two --
the murder of Manuel Palmari.

Now, each of the accused --

Aline Bauche
and Fernand Barillard --

accuses the other
of the killing?

Well, so would I,
under the circumstances.

Could you outline
the alternative possibilities?

First alternative -- Aline walks
into Palmari's study,

shoots him three times.

Second alternative --

Aline slips the gun
into her handbag,

passes it to Barillard,
who's waiting,

by prior arrangement,
in the hallway.

She also gives him a door key.

Barillard lets himself
into the apartment,

takes Palmari by surprise.

Palmari goes for his gun,
but it isn't in the usual place.

Barillard shoots him
three times.

You found traces of oil
in Aline Bauche's handbag.

Cleaning fluid, as used
on the Smith & Wesson.

Which supports
your second theory,

that she passed the gun
on to Barillard.

Yes.

Good.

But it also supports
my first theory --

if Aline shot him but wanted to
pass the blame on to Barillard.

I see.

So, what is your conclusion?

I think I shall leave it to your
total and absolute discretion.

[ Laughter ]

-Is that what you told him?
-Yes.

Even though you know
what really happened?

No one ever knows
what really happens.

Oh.

We walked here
on our first evening in Paris.

Do you remember?

I remember.

I also remember
it was on the other bank.

Was it?

Mm-hmm.

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Vehicle approaches ]

[ Insect buzzing ]

-[ Smack ]
-[ Buzzing continues ]

-Ehl
-[ Knock on door ]

Come in.

Chief Inspector?

A wasp.

I see.

I am returning to earth.

The wasp survives, temporally.

There's a lady to see you.

Ernestine Jussiaume.

-She says you're old friends.
-I've never heard of her.

She wants to report
a murder.

She does?

To you, personally,
because you're old friends.

I'll see her.

It will make a change
from real work.

Madame?

Mme. Jussiaume.

-Good morning, madame.
-Good morning, monsieur.

Ernestine Micou?

Correct.

It must be --

A long time ago.

Shall we call it 15 years,

for the sake of my vanity
and yours?

15 years.
A very generous offer.

[ Chuckles ]

-Morning.
-Good morning.

Chief Inspector Maigret
has somebody with him.

I see.

Anyone we know?

Ernestine Jussiaume.

Who?

Formerly Ernestine Micou.

I don't believe it.

It's all right.
Still got her clothes on.

So how long have you been
Mme. Jussiaume?

12 years.

And it's all aboveboard.
We had a priest and everything.

Alfred's very strict
about going to church.

Alfred?

You married Alfred Jussiaume?

I just told you so.

The man we all know and love
under the name of "Sad Freddie"?

Yes.

And you've
found happiness together?

As much as anyone
is entitled to.

Good.

So tell me --
What's happened to spoil it?

He found a dead body.

He should have reported it
to the police.

He reported it to me.
I'm reporting it to you.

Where is Freddie now?

-He ran away.
-Why?

He's frightened
of dead bodies.

He's also frightened
of the police.

Details.

-Two nights ago --
-Tuesday night.

Yes.

He goes out to work
about 11:00.

I assume his work
is still housebreaking?

It's what he does best.

Midnight, he breaks into
this house at Neuilly.

He flashes his torch around,
and there's a dead woman.

Alfred said she had blood on her
chest, as if she'd been shot.

-So he ran away?
-Obviously.

-And came home and told you?
-No.

He telephoned me from a café
near the Gare du Nord

about half past 5:00
in the morning,

told me what had happened,

and said he was catching a train
in 15 minutes.

I have a timetable somewhere.

I checked.

There's a train leaves
for Brussels at 5:45.

She there with him now?

Indeed she is.

Anything to report?

No. Nothing.

Is anybody gonna explain
to me?

Question is...

...are you old enough?

So he's in the house.
He sees a body.

A car draws up.
He runs away.

Yes. I said.

He didn't want to be caught
with a dead body

by the man of the house.

Ah.

So the man in the car
was also the man of the house?

He must have been.

He drives in through the gates,
up the drive,

gets out of the car,

lets himself in
through the front door

same time as Alfred's leaving
by the window.

A house with a garden
and a gate.

Obviously.

Otherwise he wouldn't have
mentioned them.

And Alfred left by the same
window he used on arrival?

He always works that way.

He takes out the windowpane,
opens the window.

Even if
the front door's unlocked.

He's faddy like that.

I hope he's all right.

Once upon a time,

years before you were born,

when Chief Inspector Maigret
was a young policeman,

he was sent to arrest
Ernestine Micou

for petty thieving.

15 years ago.

JANVIER:
15 years?

LAPOINTE:
That's what he said.

[ Chuckles ]

Ernestine was living --

and working,
if you get my meaning --

in a third-floor room
near the Porte Saint-Denis.

Young Maigret
went into the room

and asked her to accompany him
to the police station.

She took off all her clothes --
such as they were --

lay down on the bed and said,
"All right. Arrest me."

[ Chuckles ]

Well, then what happened?

Next hour or so, he stood there
saying, "Get your clothes on."

She lay on the bed saying,
"No, I won't."

[ Chuckles ]

So he called for the cops.

He called the cops?

Two of us went over
with a supply of blankets.

I see.

[ Laughs ]

Yes, but he doesn't like
to be reminded of it.

Absolutely not.

It could seriously hamper
your career.

The mighty wheels
of investigation

will be set in motion.

Is there anything else
you need to tell me?

-Yes.
-What?

-That time you nicked me.
-15 years ago.

I didn't do it.

That, as you must realize,
is what they all say.

Well, there's nothing at all
from Neuilly.

No shooting, no dead bodies.

Murderers are generally reticent
about their work.

Alfred Jussiaume --
also known as Sad Freddie --

three convictions
for housebreaking.

Under suspicion for many more.

Skillful operator.

Due to bad health,
he lost his job --

As a locksmith
with the Planchart company.

Who manufacture
and install safes.

I think you'll find
that our friend Freddie

invariably breaks into houses

where, in his previous career,
he'd helped to install safes.

Yes.

Now, if I were
an eager young policeman

keen to impress
my superior officer,

I'd have checked
with Planchart

to see what safes they installed
in Neuilly

during Sad Freddie's
previous employment.

You've done it.

I'm keen to impress
my superior officer.

Well, we can eliminate the bank
and the petrol company.

We're looking for a house
with a garden and a gate.

There's only one
domestic property on the list.

Guillaume Serre, dentist.
43 Rue de la Ferme.

I hate dentists.

I can recommend the cassoulet.
For two?

Forgive me, patron, but today
we shall be lunching at Neuilly.

Number 43.

A house
with a garden and a gate.

Drop us at the restaurant.

Mademoiselle, there's a dentist
along this street.

That's right -- M. Serre.

-Is he any good?
-I've no idea.

Very expensive,
from all accounts,

but, then, he would be
in this area.

Does he use this café?

Sometimes.

Sneaks inside a bit sheepish,
has two glasses of wine,

then slips a peppermint
or a clove in his mouth,

and goes home.

-Henpecked?
-Yeah, I daresay.

Wife hen?
Mother hen?

-One of each, I think.
-Poor devil.

How old is he?

Oh, 50.
Something like that.

Big man.

What do
you want to know for?

Are you police?
What's he done?

Never set foot
into a dentist's surgery

without checking
on the psychological well-being

of the man
with the drill in his hand.

[ Rings ]

I'd like to speak
to M. Serre.

He only sees people
by appointment.

Would you tell him
Chief Inspector Maigret

would like to talk to him?

Please come in.

Forgive my being protective,
Chief Inspector,

but my son always has a nap
after lunch.

[ Chuckles ]

Do sit down.

I have observed the same
tradition myself, madame,

for many years,
when work permits.

Tell me --
Is your son's wife at home?

No.
She's gone away for a few days.

Staying with friends in Holland.
She's of Dutch origin.

I see.
When did she leave?

On Tuesday evening.
The 9:40 from the Gare du Nord.

-The night train.
-The night train.

Forgive me, madame.

I have this habit

of making small talk sound like
an inquisition.

-[ Chuckles ]
-[ Footsteps ]

Oh, allow me.

My wife often complains
about it.

Won't you come in, M. Serre?

I heard voices.

These gentlemen
are police officers.

Yes.
I recognize M. Maigret.

This is Inspector Lapointe.

Good afternoon, monsieur.

What are you doing here?

We have reason to believe
that you've been the victim

of an attempted burglary.

Reason to believe?
What reason to believe?

Information. Confidential.

Not merely confidential --
totally secret.

There's been no burglary.

Everything is
in its proper place.

I did say
an attempted burglary.

Had we been aware
of such a thing,

we would have
reported it immediately.

You're the owner of a safe

installed by the Planchart
company about 18 years ago?

I truly can't remember
when I bought it.

I have no doubt
your information is accurate.

-May I see the safe?
-It's in the study.

I'll show you.

[ Door opens I]

Again, as you can see,
everything is in its place.

They're mostly law books.
My husband was a solicitor.

[ Clock ticking ]

Thank you, madame.
Thank you, monsieur.

Are you happy now, Inspector?

My job
is the pursuit of truth.

Happiness I leave
for the weekends.

-May I go to my surgery now?
-Please.

Do forgive my son
if he seemed a bit grumpy.

We disturbed his nap --
unforgivable.

-Good afternoon, madame.
-Good afternoon.

[ Door closes ]

-Well done, Lapointe.
-I didn't say a thing.

A silent policeman --

easily the best way
to intimidate the citizens,

whether innocent or guilty.

Did you notice
what I noticed?

The windowpane
had been replaced.

Good man.

Find out everything you can
about the wife.

Right.

And tell Janvier I'd like him
to keep a watch on the house.

Discreetly?

No. Tell him to make it
as obvious as possible.

Oh, and not a word to our friend
the examining magistrate.

Maigret, I cannot possibly
authorize a search of the house

on such flimsy evidence.

M. Comeliau, I believe there's
a strong possibility

that M. Serre murdered his wife
on Tuesday evening.

Mm.

Well, your beliefs are a matter
between God and yourself.

Your evidence
is a piece of gossip

from a convicted housebreaker

who has subsequently
fled the country,

passed on to you by his wife,
who is a prostitute

with convictions
for theft and shoplifting.

I expect better than that --
even from you, my friend.

[ Sighs ]

[ Wasp buzzing ]

[ Paper rustling ]

-[ Knock on door ]
-Come in.

-How did it go?
-Dead.

-The examining magistrate?
-No. The wasp.

-l see.
-You found out anything?

Uh, yes, the dentist's wife --

born Maria van Aerts in Sneek,
in Friesland, Holland.

They were married
two years ago.

She's 51 years old.

And before the marriage,
she lived in a boardinghouse

in the Rue de Longchamp.

-Where you're now going.
-Where I'm now going.

-[ Knock on door ]
-Come inl!

It's like the Gare du Nord
in this office.

There's an old lady
to see you.

Do I need to see
any old ladies?

-Mme. Serre.
-Really?

Yes, I probably do
need to see her.

Oh, and Lucas?

Yeah?

Don't go away.

I'll try not to.

-This way, madame.
-Thank you.

-Does the smoke worry you?
-My son smokes cigars.

Thank you, madame.

My son also has a tendency
to be a little abrupt at times,

almost rude.

Well, he's an only child.

Perhaps it's my fault.

At any rate, I wish to apologize
for his attitude towards you.

Accepted.

Now Madame Serre, what is it
you wish to tell me

that you'd rather not mention
in your son's presence?

Is that what you think --

that I've come to you
behind his back?

Well, for the best motives,
I'm sure.

Perhaps to save him
embarrassment?

Yes.
Quite correct.

We told you Maria had gone away
for a few days.

Maria -- That's her name.

Formerly Maria van Aerts,
from Friesland in Holland.

Yes, we know about that.

Well, it's true
she has gone away,

but I fear the marriage
is at an end.

I don't expect her to return.

Well, marriage can be
a very fragile edifice.

-She left on Tuesday evening?
-Yes.

-At what time?
-About 9:00.

Did your son drive her
to the station?

No.
She went by taxi.

Did she have much luggage?

A cabin trunk
and two suitcases.

Forgive me for being legalistic,
Mme. Serre,

but were there any witnesses
to all this --

apart from your son, yourself,
and Maria, of course?

Do you have servants?

Only one -- Eugenie, our daily
woman -- but she leaves at 5:00.

I'm afraid you have to
take our word, Inspector.

Well, of course I do.
Without question.

Now, moving on...

[ Telephone rings I]

Maigret!

Well, can't it wait?

All right.
Two minutes.

Would you excuse me,
Mme. Serre?

[ Door opens I]

How was my timing?

Perfect.
But keep your voice down.

Her hearing's better than mine.

Your turn
for the dental appointment.

-ls it?
-Invent an excuse.

Then ask him if he used his car
on Tuesday evening.

I'l try
the old accident routine.

Excellent.

My apologies, Mme. Serre.
Ugh.

[ Sighs ]

When was the window broken?

The window?

The pane of glass
in the study window --

When was it broken?

Oh.
A few days ago.

During the storm,
whenever that was.

It was two weeks ago,
madame.

Who replaced the glass?

My son.

He bought the putty and glass
and repaired it himself?

I expect so.
I left it entirely to him.

And all this happened
a few days ago?

Yes.

You've been honest with me,
Mme. Serre.

I'll be honest with you.

We've been told
that a burglar

broke into your house
on Tuesday night.

His preferred method of entry
is by removing a pane of glass.

His plan was
to break into your safe.

But before he did so,
his torch shone upon something

he had not expected to find --

the body of a woman, which may
have been your daughter-in-law.

Where is this man?

Why doesn't he make
these allegations to my face?

How often does your son
use his car?

[ Gate opens I]

He's in his surgery.

Has he got a patient
with him?

No. He's fiddling about
with somebody's false teeth.

But he won't thank you
for disturbing him.

What time
do you finish work?

-5:00.
-I'll buy you a drink.

I'm a married woman.

LUCAS: You are the owner
of a motor vehicle,

registration number 3417 HM 757

Yes.

When did you last use it?

I have a right to know the
reason for this investigation.

At midnight on Tuesday,
approximately,

a car resembling yours
was reported

as being involved
in an accident.

Which do you mean --
my car or a car resembling mine?

I said a car resembling yours,
monsieur.

And where did this
alleged accident take place?

By the river.

My car hasn't left its garage
since the weekend.

Are you prepared
to swear to that?

Who are the witnesses
to this accident?

Or is this some more
of Inspector Maigret's

confidential information?

It was late.
It was dark.

The witness may have misread
the number plate.

I don't believe
there was an accident

on Tuesday night, officer.

In which case, monsieur, we have
eliminated another possibility.

When we have eliminated
all the possibilities,

we will be left
with the truth.

Whatever that is.

[ Birds chirping ]

We were terribly sad
when Maria left us.

Oh, I know she was in
her mid-40s, but --

LAPOINTE: 51.

[ Chuckling ] Oh, really?

She was so young in heart.

[ Chuckles ]

How did she spend her time
when she lived here?

-Oh, culture.
-Culture?

Practically lived
in art galleries.

Is that
how she met her husband?

[ Chuckling ] Yes.

In the Louvre,
beside the "Mona Lisa."

Hal
Romantic, don't you think?

Did they meet by accident?

Oh, no -- by arrangement.

I'm sorry.
How did they arrange it?

Maria put a matrimonial
advertisement in the newspaper.

Oh, I see.
Had she done that often?

[ Chuckling ] Oh,
dozens of times!

Oh, she said
she didn't believe it.

It was only for fun.

[ Chuckles ]
She was so young in heart.

[ Chuckles ]

Did she have any special friends
in Holland?

Oh, yes.
Gertrude Oosting.

-You know her?
-Oh, no, of course not.

[ Chuckles ]
I've never been to Amsterdam.

But Maria used to
write to her every day.

I think she used to write to her
about her adventures.

Adventures in the galleries
of the Louvre?

[ Chuckling ] Oh, to say
the very least.

Is she all right?

Has something happened?

JANVIER:
What sort of chap is he?

Big, strong.

Knows his rights.

So does the chief.

[ Footsteps I]

Excuse me.

Got a date.

I promised to buy you a drink.

I don't like policemen.

How about your employers?
Do you like them?

They stink.

-What, the old lady as well?
-She's a bitch.

What about
the daughter-in-law?

-She a bitch too?
-No. She's a stupid, fat cow.

So, what's all the fuss about?

Maria Serre
seems to have disappeared.

-She's gone to Holland.
-Perhaps.

-Did you help her pack?
-No. She did her own.

How much luggage she take?

Two suitcases and a trunk.

You see her go?

No.
I always leave at 5:00.

Look, there's a possibility
she may have been murdered.

What?

What, you think they did it?

Got no proof.

Do you want me
to get you some?

I want you
to tell me the truth.

What about?

Start with the study window.

Study window?

We think it may have been broken
late Tuesday night,

and M. Serre mended it
Wednesday morning.

Oh, I always do the windows
on Fridays.

So you didn't notice
if it'd been broken?

Pity.

Does he do
all his own repairs?

Oh, yes.

They're too mean
to pay proper workmen.

He even
unblocks the drains himself.

Don't happen to know where
he gets his materials, do you?

Glass, putty?

Yes.

A builders yard
off the Rue de Refuge.

Excuse me.

Is M. Serre
a customer here?

The dentist?

Yes, sir.
He has an account.

Has he bought
anything recently?

Yes.
He came in for some glass.

After the storm
a couple of weeks ago.

I see.

-Nothing since then?
-Not that I know of.

Look,
this could be important.

Would you mind checking
your ledger for me, please?

[ Horn honks I]

Oh, yes.

Sorry.

Yes.
He was in again this week.

-When?
-Wednesday.

He bought another pane
the same size.

-But you didn't serve him?
-No.

Look. See?

He was the first customer
of the day.

Well, he must have got here
before we were open.

Before you were open?

Well, the boss is here.
He's always early.

I don't get here till 8:00.

Well, tell your boss I'll need
a photograph of this page.

I'll send someone over.

In the meantime, guard this
ledger with your life.

All right.

[ Slowly ] What time do you
expect Mme. Oosting

to return home?

Darling, can you read
the bedtime story tonight?

LUCAS: Forensic?

You got someone available
to inspect a motor vehicle?

-JANVIER: No, uh...
-LUCAS: Around midnight.

LAPOINTE: When Mme. Oosting
returns home...

Ideally, we'd like to find
bloodstains in the interior

and something on the tires.

JANVIER: I'm sorry, my love,
but it's a very important case.

No, I don't know what we expect
to find till you've checked it.

LAPOINTE: Can you ask her
to call us here in Paris?

That's why we have
a forensic department.

JANVIER:
I can't tell you any details.

-LAPOINTE: Yes, Paris.
-Yeah, it's in a lockup garage.

JANVIER:
I'll try and be home by...

What?

We unlock it.

Uh, yeah, uh, but what time

do you expect Mme. Oosting
to return?

MAIGRET:
We have a situation.

A husband and a wife.

A mother and a son.

Any one of them
could be telling lies.

Indeed, we know for a fact that
one of them is telling lies.

Was there
or was there not a body?

If there was a body,
where is it now?

And what is
the master detective doing?

Encouraging them all
to tell more lies.

"My car hasn't been out of
the garage since the weekend."

"The window was broken
during a storm."

He might
be telling the truth.

The storm
was two weeks ago.

Since then he has bought
two pieces of glass.

Why replace the window twice
unless it's been broken twice?

Perhaps he's
a perfectionist.

Perhaps --
Perhaps he wasn't satisfied

with his work first time.

[ Chuckles ] Even M. Comeliau
wouldn't believe that.

Or...

May I suggest,
as a mere woman --

There is nothing mere
about you.

Have you considered
the possibility

that your burglar
might have killed the woman

and then made up the story
as a cover?

Yes.

But I don't believe it.

He ran away as fast as
his little legs would carry him.

Freddie isn't
the murdering kind.

Is your dentist
the murdering kind?

Let's have some coffee.

I'm only teasing.

Yes.
I recognize the symptoms.

And I know
what you're up to.

What?

You're following
the tramlines

in the sure
and certain knowledge

that they'll lead you
to the depot.

I'm simply pointing out that
tramlines go in two directions.

[ Match strikes I]

[ Crickets chirping ]

Somebody's coming.

-Evening, sir.
-Good evening.

Police.

-l see.
-Purely routine.

Is that M. Serre's garage?

Ah, it could well be.

Do you walk your dog every night
about this time?

Usually, yes.

On Tuesday night,
for example?

Yes.

Did you notice anything?
Anything unusual?

Oh, no.
It was very quiet.

I said as much to M. Serre.

Oh. What was he doing,
walking his dog?

[ Chuckles ]
He doesn't have a dog.

He was taking his car
out of the garage.

What time
would this be, about?

Oh, midnight.
Near enough.

Just another Tuesday.

I now have a formal request

from Mme. Gertrude Oosting
of Amsterdam

to inquire into the whereabouts
of her friend Mme. Maria Serre.

She expected Mme. Serre
to travel on the overnight train

from the Gare du Nord,
but she failed to arrive.

I wish to question M. Serre
about his movements,

the use of his car,

the apparent contradictions
between his statements

and those
of other witnesses.

I wish to --

You wish to dismantle
his house.

With tact and discretion.

Additional documentation
is on its way from Amsterdam.

What kind of documentation?

Letters written by Mme. Serre
to Mme. Oosting

in which she expressed concern
for her personal safety,

perhaps even
fear for her life.

In addition --

Enough.

[ Pen scratching ]

[ Birds chirping ]

What is it, Guillaume?

Nothing, Mother.

These gentlemen, I believe,
would like to search the house.

I suggest
you go to your room.

[ Clock ticking ]

May I have the keys
to your desk, M. Serre?

Everything is open and available
for your inspection.

Can you explain this?

It's a revolver.

Your property?

It belonged to my father.

Technically, I suppose
it was part of my inheritance.

We shall have it examined
by our forensic people.

I clean it regularly.
At least once a week.

-Your father?
-Yes.

He died when?

20 years ago.

So he'd have been
about your age.

He was 52 when he died.

ERNESTINE:
Have you arrested him yet?

I'm not allowed
to say anything.

Alfred wants to come home.

-Have you heard from him?
-He sent me a postcard.

From Belgium?

I'm not saying.

Ah.
It's the fashion.

What is?

Not saying.
Everybody's not saying.

LUCAS: Well, at least we found
the revolver.

He left it there
to defy us.

We can't prove it's the murder
weapon, and he knows it.

Without a body, we can't even
prove there's been a murder.

Why isn't he frightened?

He should be frightened.

What would you have done?

It's midnight.

You got a car
with a corpse in the boot.

Head for the river,
pick a convenient spot.

Must be dozens
of convenient spots.

Yeah.

Doesn't exactly make it easy,
does it?

Try it.

It's considerably easier
than what I'm gonna do.

Put on a jacket, monsieur.

It gets chilly at headquarters
later on.

Am I under arrest?

[ Match strikes I]

I'm ready.

Ready for what?

To hear
what you have to tell me.

I have nothing to tell you.

When a man's wife dies, I expect
him to have something to say.

My wife is not dead.

Where is she?

I have no idea.

And you still insist

your car hasn't left the garage
since the weekend?

Yes.

Even though we have a witness
who saw you in the car

late on Tuesday night?

Am I to understand
that I am being charged?

No. Officially, you're summoned
here as a witness.

If you wish, I'm quite prepared
to charge you --

or, to be more exact,

ask the director of prosecutions
to indict you,

which would entitle you
to legal advice.

I don't want a lawyer.

So, for the moment,
let's regard you as a witness.

Witness to what?

To your wife's disappearance.

You were the last person to see
her before she left the house.

At least we can agree
on that.

Yes.

Let us also consider
the purchase of a sheet of glass

on Wednesday morning,

as recorded,
with old-fashioned efficiency,

in the ledger
at the builders yard.

At the very least,

we're concerned with an alarming
number of broken windows.

What's this?

They're yours.
Translations of Maria's letters.

Ah!

The most boring letters
I've ever read in my life.

Listen --
"Gertrude, darling,

Paris has never been
so resplendent,

and I very nearly
swallowed my pride

and went with G. and his mother
to the forest of Fontainebleau,

which must
at this time of year

be adorned with all the glories
of a Corot or a Courbet."

Does she write a lot
about glories?

"I hope the pastel shades
of Holland

will restore me to full health
and the best of spirits."

I've got some
"pastel shades" here, too.

And more about not feeling
very well -- "always tired."

Well, I'm always tired,

but I don't write letters
to Gertrude about it.

MAIGRET: Have you always been
frightened of your mother?

I'm not frightened
of my mother.

You're a secret drinker.

Two glasses of wine
in the café down the street

and a clove
to take the smell away.

It prevents her
from worrying.

Why should she worry?

About the possibility
of my drinking.

Your father drink?

A little.

A great deal.

And who in your house
is or was a hypochondriac?

You'll have to explain that,
Inspector.

There are enough tablets
in your bathroom

to stock a small hospital.

I have a heart condition.

My wife suffers
from dyspepsia.

Your mother?

Is as strong as a horse.

Your doctor is...?

Dr. Dutilleux.

Family doctor?

Since I was a child.

And you and your mother
are very close.

Yes.

Unnaturally close?

Certainly not.

Unusually close?

It's a meaningless question.

But you're not frightened
of her?

No.

"I'll tell him I need to breathe
the air of my own country.

He'll understand.

What I'm wondering is,

how he'll pluck up the courage
to tell his mother."

"The old lady still behaves
the same towards me --

meek and smiling -- as long as
I do everything she wants.

She's the most selfish person
I've ever known."

That bit's underlined.

[ Door opens I]

How's it going?

Still going.

Is that
forensics report in yet?

Which one,
the car or the gun?

-Car.
-On its way.

I knew you'd say that.

Lucas, take over for an hour,
will you?

What shall I ask him about?

Oh, repairing windows, cleaning
cars, whatever you like.

What if he happens
to confess?

Make sure he signs it.

-Try to remember.
-Good.

Anything useful?

Could be.

Ah.
This is Chief Inspector Maigret.

May I speak
with Dr. Dutilleux?

[ Exhales sharply ]

I find it impossible to work
until the smoke has cleared.

[ Sighs ]

Chief Inspector Maigret's
more familiar

with the finer details
than I am.

So let's start at the beginning,
monsieur.

Tell me about Tuesday.

Again?

Well, let's start
with Tuesday morning.

What time did you get up?

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Birds chirping ]

Dr. Dutilleux.

Chief Inspector!

What can I tell you
about the Serre family?

How long have you been
their family doctor?

Almost 40 years,
God help me.

My father had the practice
before me.

M. Serre takes tablets
for a heart condition.

-You prescribe them?
-Yes.

His father died in his 50s.

Did he have
a heart condition?

Death is always the result
of a heart condition.

The heart stops.
We die.

That wasn't the question.

[ Chuckling 1 I realize.

Tell me about the father --
his drinking, for example.

He drank too much.

Women?

He was a drinker
and a womanizer.

Did his way of life
contribute to his early death?

My late father
signed the death certificate.

Cause of death -- heart failure.

Exacerbated by...

Alcohol, dissipation,
what you will.

There's no space
on the certificate

for things of that kind.

There was talk
of a drug overdose.

But as I say,
he wasn't my patient.

But your father certified
heart failure.

Solidarity of the bourgeoisie,
Inspector,

is every bit as enduring
as that of the proletariat.

Tell me about the relationship
between Mme. Serre and her son.

Very close.

Loving.

Affectionate.

Poisonous.

Could you send over
beer and sandwiches, please?

-Enough for four people.
-Five.

Sorry -- five people.
Thank you.

That forensic report's
on your desk.

LAPOINTE: Reading these letters
drives you mad.

I'm not surprised
she got bumped off.

It was probably Gertrude
who did it, to stop her writing.

LUCAS: Eureka.

You've found something?

They have.
Brick dust.

Was your mother in favor
of your marriage to Maria?

Oh, yes.
She encouraged me.

Why?

Because one day, presumably,
I shall be left on my own

and need someone
to look after me.

And someone to stop you drinking
and womanizing

and spending
all the family's money.

That's totally absurd.

Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me.
I was forgetting.

You're not at all
like your father, are you?

No. I'm not.

And was Maria capable
of looking after you?

Was she ever
given the chance?

[ Telephone rings I]

Excuse me.

Yes?

Right.

Was she?

Thanks, George.

LUCAS: Can you tell them
it's urgent, please?

-Janvier, take over.
-Right, Chief.

-Where is she?
-Waiting outside.

-She say anything?
-She wants to see her son.

Ah.
And you said?

-Impossible.
-Good boy.

Thanks.

And I know
where the body is.

-You do?
-In the river.

We knew that already.

Quai de Billancourt.

There's a wharf where
they've been unloading bricks.

They found brick dust
on the tires of the car.

When were
the bricks unloaded?

-Monday.
-River patrol?

Just been on to them.

They're gonna send a diver down
at first light.

Excellent.

Another 24 hours, and life
will be back to normal.

Normal?

You gonna talk to her?

In awhile.

[ Exhales slowly ]

Is my mother here?

Mme. Serre.

Good evening, Inspector.

How is my son?

Well, forgive me for using
a medical expression,

but as well
as can be expected.

What did he say to you?

That, I'm afraid to say,
has to remain confidential.

Please sit down, madame.

Thank you.

I must apologize
for the state of the room,

only it's generally used
for common criminals.

I understand.

Mme. Serre, you must understand
one thing --

If your son is tried
and convicted,

he will go to the guillotine.

But he didn't kill her.

I did say
if he is tried and convicted.

I know he didn't kill her.

You have no evidence
that she's dead.

The body is in a cabin trunk
in the river,

near the Quai de Billancourt.

We shall recover it
in the morning.

Then we shall charge him
with the murder.

You could spare him
the guillotine by confessing.

Me?

Confess?

Why should I confess?

Why should I kill her?

Reasons for killing
your daughter-in-law.

Let's start
with simple jealousy.

You glimpsed
the possibility

that your son might be happy
with Maria,

might laugh and smile
a little,

have what people call
a good time.

A good time.

And then there's fear --

fear that your son might
turn out to be like his father,

especially if,
after your death,

Maria was not capable
of protecting him

from those same weaknesses --

drinking, womanizing,
spending money,

damaging his health,

and, in the end,
killing himself.

Like father, like son.

Isn't that what
you were frightened of?

Did your husband kill himself,
or did I imagine that?

Doesn't matter.

Perhaps he didn't
kill himself.

Perhaps you helped him.

And perhaps Maria
discovered the fact.

She was certainly
terrified of you.

Was she?

It's in all her letters.

She found your son attractive
at the beginning,

then boring, then pathetic.

But you -- She was certainly
frightened of you.

And with good cause --

For when you found out she was
about to leave her husband,

your pride wouldn't let her
just walk away.

Oh, no.

She had to do things
the way you wanted, or else.

Same applies, I suppose,
to your son.

There can be few men

who'd stand by
at the murder of their wife

and then help
dispose of the body.

So I can suggest lots of reasons
why you should kill her.

Jealousy. Fear.

Pride. And envy.

Envy?

Because she'd be alive
and living with your son

when you were dead.

Lots of reasons.

Does there have to be
a reason?

Does the law demand it?

No.

Chief Inspector.

I would like you to hear
my confession.

We got company.

Tell Freddie
he can come home now.

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Telephone rings I]

-Good morning, Philippe.
-Good morning, sir.

How can we help, monsieur?

I'd like to see
Chief Inspector Maigret.

So would many people.

I'm afraid you'll have to
make do with me.

What's your problem?

I'm Joseph Gastin.

I live in a village on the
Sevre estuary near La Rochelle.

I've been traveling
all night.

I need M. Maigret's help.

Well, first of all, we have
no authority in La Rochelle.

And secondly,
Chief Inspector Maigret

is very busy.

I need his protection.

I'm about to be arrested
for murder.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

I'm a schoolmaster in a place
called Saint-André-sur-Mer.

It's tiny. We're famous
for our oysters and mussels.

That's all.

Who are you supposed to
have killed?

One of your pupils?

Leonie Birard.
She used to be our postmistress.

When did she die?

Two days ago.
Tuesday morning.

She was shot
through the eye.

Did you do it?

No, of course not.
But they think I did.

Well, I'm afraid
Inspector Janvier is right.

It has nothing to do with us.

Get me the gendarmerie
at La Rochelle.

Certainly, sir.

And Chief Inspector Maigret
certainly has no time --

Morning, boys.

Chief Inspector Maigret?

You are Chief Inspector Maigret,
aren't you?

Captain Danielou
told me not to go away

even though he doesn't have
enough evidence to arrest me.

Well, not yet, anyway.

If the captain doesn't have
enough evidence to arrest you,

why did you go?

Because he'll get hold
of it.

They'll find it
for him somehow.

-They?
-The villagers.

They hate me and my wife.

We weren't born there,
you see?

They've never forgiven us.

Tell me about
this Leonie Birard.

She was a terrible woman.

She hated everyone,
and everyone hated her.

Why?
Wasn't she born there, either?

No, because when she ran
the post office,

she'd read people's mail,
listen in on phone calls,

and then she'd use all
the secrets to cause trouble.

It was her hobby, turning people
against each other.

Was she married?

Leonie?

So why is Captain Danielou so
sure you killed Leonie Birard?

Well, for one thing,
my son, Jean-Paul,

has an air rifle
like the one that killed her.

But quite a few
of the boys do.

It was a craze
they had last year.

Any other reason?

When they questioned me,
I said it was in his room.

It wasn't.
They found it in my toolshed.

Well, Jean-Paul must have
left it there.

Schoolmaster in the village
I grew up in

wasn't much liked, either.

Perhaps it goes with the job.

Pardon?

I was very fond of him,
though.

I shall always remember him,
M. Gastin.

[ Telephone rings I]

Maigret.

May I have a word, sir?

Yes.
I'll be straight through.

I shan't run away.
I promise.

And you know
you're my only hope.

[ Receiver hangs up]

Just been on to Captain Danielou
at La Rochelle.

He wants Gastin back.

Says he's got more than
enough evidence to arrest him.

Some kid's just come in
with new evidence.

One of Gastin's pupils.

I think I'll go down
and take a look.

You're not gonna get involved
with this, are you?

I believe the oysters
are very good

in that part of the world,
my son.

Is there anything else?

When they asked me where I was
when the shooting happened,

I said I was in the classroom,
but I wasn't.

I completely forgot.

Must have been nerves,
I suppose.

Where were you?

After the break, I went out
for a couple of minutes.

I'm secretary at the town hall,
as well as being schoolmaster.

I had to get a paper for one of
the farmers, for his pension.

-Would he corroborate that?
-Oh, yes.

And then I popped in on my wife
for a couple of minutes.

She hasn't been
very well lately.

She was asleep.

And that's when
the shooting happened?

Apparently so,
I'm afraid to say.

-It's an honor to meet you, sir.
-Thank you.

No need for them.

Monsieur.

[ Birds chirping ]

-[ Car door closes I
-Ah...

You realize, Captain, I'm not
here in any official capacity.

Oh, no, anything you can do
to help, sir.

No. No, please.

Although I do think we now have,
um, conclusive evidence.

-From one of the pupils?
-Yes.

Yes, he saw Gastin
coming out of the toolshed

where the rifle was found.

It was five minutes
after the shot was heard.

Odd, though.
And the shooting was on Tuesday.

The boy waited 48 hours
before he reported it.

Well, he was frightened.

Imagine, your own teacher.
Now, what must it be like?

Tell me, Captain,
is there an inn in Saint-André

where I can get
some good country food?

Only if you're going
that way yourself, of course.

Well...

Thank you.

No mussels or oysters.

It was neap tide on Tuesday.

Nobody gets mussels or oysters
at neap tide.

-Just the wine, then.
-Right.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

How many nights?

Two, three.
Who knows?

Till you've proved
the schoolmaster innocent, huh?

MAIGRET:
Do you think he's innocent?

[ Laughs ]

Well, why else
would you be here?

Let me buy you a drink,
M. Paumelle.

Oh. Uh...

A brandy.
Thank you.

The, uh --
The one with the broken nose --

He heard the shot.

He was in his garden.

-Theo?
-Huh?

You heard the shot,
didn't you?

Why shouldn't I have heard it?

What time was it?
Do you remember?

[ Chuckles ]
10 past 10:00.

He told me.

Good health, monsieur.

He's the deputy mayor,
you know?

When he remembers to be.

To hell with the lot of youl

[ Laughter ]

And especially people who
come here making trouble for us.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Marcellin, the butcher.

Is he always like that?

Only when the first half bottle
of Pernod's got to him.

-[ Door slams ]
-By lunchtime, usually.

[ Bird squawking ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

They were swimming in the sea
only this morning, monsieur.

Look how fresh they are.

-Ah.
-Morning.

£2 Frére Jacques £

£2 Frére Jacques £

# Dormez-vous? #

-Good morning, monsieur.
-Good morning, monsieur.

-Good morning, monsieur.
-Good morning, monsieur.

-Good morning, monsieur.
-Good morning, monsieur.

Chief Inspector Maigret.

Ah.

The captain told me
you were coming.

I'm Dr. Bresselles.

As a matter of fact, I've just
been to see Mme. Gastin.

The murderer's wife.

Or isn't he the murderer?

Yes, he told me
she wasn't well.

Is that the Gastins' house?

At the risk of betraying
my Hippocratic oath,

she is never well.

Ah, good morning,
Mme. Marcellin.

Morning, Doctor.

-The butcher's wife.
-How did you --

Of course.

That scoundrel Paumelle

has been filling you in
on all the gossip.

[ Chuckles ]

So has he told you
about Chevassou?

Who?

DR. BRESSELLES:
Ah, well...

The Gastins
used to live at Courbevoie.

They were both teachers
at a very good school,

and Chevassou
was a local town councilor.

Strong, handsome fellow,
apparently.

Unfortunately, Mme. Gastin
developed what one can only call

a devouring passion for him,

to which he responded
with great enthusiasm.

He could do what he liked
with her --

and did, at every opportunity.

-Good morning.
-Morning.

Until one day, Chevassou's wife
turned up at the school

and shot Mme. Gastin --

hit her
right in the shoulder --

at which point the Gastins
developed a sudden craving --

-Morning.
-Hello.

They developed a sudden craving
for fresh country air

and ended up here.

The poor woman
has never recovered from it.

That's all very interesting,
Doctor.

What's it got to do with
the death of Leonie Birard?

Nothing at all,
I'm sure --

except that Leonie used to stand
by her window over there

and shout filthy remarks
about it to the world at large,

to the great delight
of the rest of the village.

MAIGRET:
Did you like Leonie Birard?

Like her?
[ Laughs ]

She was undoubtedly
the most poisonous,

unpleasant woman
I have ever known.

In fact, my theory is the entire
village conspired to murder her

for the greater benefit
of mankind.

Now, if you will excuse me,
I must be on my way.

MAIGRET:
Mme. Gastin?

There's nothing in there,
Chief Inspector.

They took the rifle away.

You see...

It is chief inspector,
isn't it?

Hello, Jean-Paul.

-Have I got the right name?
-Yes.

Run along upstairs, Jean-Paul,
and take your work with you.

How was Joseph
when they took him away?

Did he give you
any message for me?

He was very calm,
very well.

But no message,
I'm afraid.

I blame myself entirely.

Because you brought him here?

Yes.

I know why you came.

I know about Chevassou.

These things happen.

People lose control.

It's a kind of madness.

You shouldn't feel ashamed.

Oh.

Joseph had
such good prospects.

He's a very clever man.
Exceptional.

No one realizes.

I've always loved him,
even then.

[ Exhales sharply ]
I ruined his career.

I thought we could begin
a new life here.

The villagers were suspicious at
first, but country people are.

Then they found out
about me.

It was worse for Joseph
than me.

After that, even the children
didn't have any respect for him.

Tell me, is there anyone who's
been particularly unpleasant,

anyone who particularly
dislikes him?

Yes.

Theo. Theo Coumart.

The deputy mayor.

He burst in here
one day last winter

while Joseph and Jean-Paul
were at school.

He was drunk, as usual.

He pushed me back
on the kitchen table, laughing.

I scratched his nose. It bled.
He was furious.

He said he thought I liked
that sort of thing.

Oh, no, no.
Not if it's too painful.

No, I want to tell you.

They hate Joseph because
he's so honest, you see?

That's the main reason.

He knows none of them
pay income tax,

and they're terrified of him.

Because he works in the
town hall, as well as teaching.

That's right.

They earn a fortune from their
farming and their mussel beds,

and none of them
declares a penny of it.

They want him
to sign certificates,

false certificates,
but he won't.

Because he's a good man.

Despite everything
I've done to him,

he's still a good man.

And that's what they detest.

I'd like to have a talk
with your son.

-I'll get him for you.
-No, no.

I'd like to see his room.

[ Knock on door ]

Did I disturb you?

That's all right.

Are you good at grammar?

You work hard.
I can tell.

-You top of the class?
-No.

Well, no.

Your father would be accused
of favoritism, wouldn't he?

Ah.

Do you like
not being at school today?

Mother said
I had to stay home.

Well, he's only
a temporary teacher, anyway.

He came up from La Rochelle
this morning.

I'll bet he's not half as good
as your father.

Do you remember what happened
on Tuesday morning?

Will you talk to me
about it?

Look, you -- you do want
your father

to get out of prison,
don't you?

Do you remember him leaving
the classroom after the break?

I suppose so.

And do you remember
what happened then?

What did he do?

Some of you got up
and started playing around.

You jumped up and started
talking to somebody.

Who would I talk to?
I'm the schoolmaster's son.

Well, don't you have friends?

I thought you went shooting
with your friends.

Who said I went shooting
with them?

And I didn't kill Leonie Birard,
if that's what you mean.

Who did, then?

Look, Jean-Paul,
your father's in prison

on the evidence
of a school friend of yours

for a murder
he didn't commit.

Now, if there's anything
you know, then --

I don't know
what you're talking about!

I don't know anything,
I didn't see anything,

and I've got nothing
to tell youl

There, there, Jean-Paul.

[ Birds chirping ]

Maria's waiting for us.

She's Polish.
Came here when she was 16.

I'm afraid she doesn't
understand a lot.

She's a refugee, and she's been
cleaning for Leonie Birard

for several years now.

What did you do
when you found her, Maria?

-Were you upset?
-Oh, yes.

Well, she screamed.

Then she ran down the road,
past the school.

About half a dozen people
saw her.

How often
did you clean for her?

Every afternoon.

Oh, she did the shopping.

She did virtually everything
for her.

-Didn't you, Maria?
-Yes, yes.

That's why she was going to
leave everything to me, you see?

Her money and the house.
For helping her so much.

She said that?

Yes.
A long time ago.

It was to annoy her niece.

She told me so.

[ Rooster crows I

DANIELOU: We've talked to
her niece -- Mme. Sellier --

and it's a very nice family.

Husband's the village policeman.

Rather in awe of us
at La Rochelle.

Honest fellow.

Does Mme. Sellier know
she's been disinherited?

Ah, well...

You see,
we still haven't found a will,

and, um,
if there isn't one --

You mean
I won't get the money?

Well --

But she only paid me half
what the others do.

The cow.

Of course, we -- we might
still find it.

How many children do you have,
Maria?

-Five.
-Five?

What does your husband do?

I haven't got a husband.

[ Chuckles ]

No, Maria isn't, uh,
entirely sure

who all the fathers
of her children are, so...

Isn't that right, Maria?

But I know two of them
for sure.

Does either
of these two know

that Leonie had promised
to leave you everything?

I told Theo.

He said if I got the house
off her, he might marry me.

He was drunk, though,
when he said it.

In my vast experience,
Captain,

which I assume
you're eager to learn from...

Absolutely, yes.

...a vital ingredient at
this stage of an investigation

is a large pitcher
of white wine

in a pleasantly
smoke-filled bar.

It's a little early
for me, sir, really.

A word of advice,
Captain --

If you want to reach
the height of your profession,

you must never use the phrase
"a little early for me."

Not if you want to
further your career.

Look, uh,
if you wouldn't mind, sir,

there's something
I'd like to show you.

Don't tell me -- You've found
a secret supply of oysters!

They've all been used
quite recently, you see?

But that's all we can tell.

Now,
the extraordinary thing is,

if she'd been hit anywhere else
but in the eye,

she'd only have been
slightly wounded.

So whoever it was
must have either been

a crack shot
or amazingly lucky.

Or unlucky.

Yes.

Does Theo Coumart
have one of these?

No. Uh, just a double-barreled
sporting gun.

Would you like me
to bring him over?

We've questioned him already,
of course, but...

[ Pops loudly ]

Tell me more
about the Selliers.

-If you don't mind, sir.
-I do beg your pardon.

You say they're nice people.

Is that because
M. Sellier's a policeman?

Not at all.

I just found them to be
a warm, happy family.

-Do they have children?
-Yes.

I told you about their son,
Marcel.

He's the boy who saw Gastin
coming out of the toolshed.

Ah, yes --
the one who waited 48 hours

before he remembered
to tell you.

[ Bell ringing ]

Marcel is more than happy
to help, sir.

MAIGRET: Good.
Hello, Marcel.

Well, I'll just tell his mother
he's gonna be a little late,

and then if you don't mind,
I must go.

The examining magistrate's been
questioning Gastin this morning.

I'm meeting him in La Rochelle
at 1:00.

How wonderful not to have
examining magistrates

to deal with just for once.

The relief is indescribable.

I'm sure you never tell lies,
do you, Marcel?

Yes, monsieur,
I do sometimes.

But I always go
to confession afterwards.

Straight afterwards?

Well, as soon as I can,

so I don't die
in a state of mortal sin.

But they're not, uh --
not bad lies, are they?

Not really bad?

I don't know.

A couple of months ago, I tore
my trousers climbing a tree.

When I got home,

I said I'd caught them on a nail
in Philippe's yard.

And did you go to confession
for that?

Oh, yes, monsieur.
The next day.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector.
-Good morning, Chief Inspector.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector.
-Good morning, Chief Inspector.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector.
-Good morning, Chief Inspector.

You know, I'd like to have a
look at your classroom, Marcel.

-Would you mind showing me?
-Not at all.

Who's Philippe?
Is he a friend of yours?

My best friend, yes.

His father is M. Marcellin,
the butcher.

Is he at school today?

No.
He had an accident last month.

We were playing, and he was
knocked down by a motorbike.

Ah.
He'll be all right, I hope?

When the plaster's off,
yes, monsieur.

[ Door closes ]

Oh.

Don't let me disturb you,
monsieur.

No, no.
I was about to go anyway.

I hear they have
a few oysters in today.

Don't want to miss them.

Very bright boy, Inspector.
Best in his class.

So, tell me, Marcel --
Where do you sit?

-Here.
-Here?

[ Exhales slowly ]

And where were you when
M. Gastin came out of his shed?

Over here.

Why did you come
over here?

Was it the sound
of the shot?

No. The others
were making too much noise.

All I could hear was
the blacksmith shoeing a horse.

Some of the boys
get a bit rough, you see,

when the teacher's
not in the room.

I don't really like it.

Is the teacher's son
one of them?

Jean-Paul? No.

Who does he play with, then?
You and your friends?

No. He doesn't play
with anyone much.

Why? Because none of you
like his father?

Well, it's true, isn't it?

Do you like him, Marcel?

No.
He's not fair.

He always gives me top marks

even when
Jean-Paul's done better.

I like being top of the class,
but only when I've deserved it,

not when I haven't.

Mm.

Did you like Leonie Birard?

No.

She used to shout things at me
whenever I went past.

And you're completely sure...

...that you saw M. Gastin
coming out of the shed

when you said he did?

Yes.

Five minutes after
the shot was fired?

Yes.

But you didn't see him
with the rifle?

No.

-Neap tide's over, then?
-I'm afraid not.

We just managed
to get a few dozen

from further down the coast.

Oh, they look very nice.
I'll have those.

Oh, I'm afraid not.
They've all gone.

We'll have some more
next week, though.

You'll still be here,
won't you, Inspector?

Unless you reckon you'll have
found the murderer by then.

[ Laughs ]

Jacques, salt!

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Have you fathomed
the mystery yet?

I've no doubt that you will,
Inspector.

I'm sure the living legend will
not be defeated by our little --

[ Horn honks, tires screech I]

...country crime.

[ Car door opens ]

[ Car door closes I]

It's only a motorcar, Doctor.

If I was you,
I'd be less bothered about that

and a bit more worried
about my patients.

You enjoying yourself, I hope,
Inspector?

Uh-huh.

[ Snorts ]

What have you done
to deserve that, Doctor?

It comes with the job.

When they're well,
it's nothing to do with you,

and when they're ill,
it's proof that you're slacking.

Thank you.

And the Marcellin family

have had more than
their fair share of illness.

His brother's
in a sanatorium,

and two of his children
died at birth.

And his son was knocked down
by a motorbike a month ago.

Some people are born unlucky,
and Marcellin is one of them.

You know, he opened a butcher's
shop in La Rochelle once.

Lost every penny.

-Let me get you a drink.
-No, no, no.

I am aware that some people
work better after a drink.

I'm afraid
I'm not one of them.

[ Laughs ]

What is it?

I was just thinking

that patients are often
rather hostile, you see,

as if they resent the little
secrets that you know,

the little things that nobody
else knows about them sometimes,

not even
their nearest and dearest.

But it doesn't mean
they really dislike you.

Of course not.

Does that include Marcellin?

Yes.

Marcellin has very good reason
not to dislike me.

Did Leonie Birard
particularly dislike you?

Leonie?
All the time.

She was convinced
I was trying to poison her.

Were you?

Inspector, if you are going to
interrogate me properly,

I insist we do it over lunch
at my house.

How about tomorrow,
after the funeral?

I'd be delighted.

But tell me --

Who on earth is going to go
to Leonie Birard's funeral?

Oh, all the scoundrels
and the hypocrites,

the drunkards
and the moneygrubbers.

I'd say there'll be
an enormous turnout.

[ Bird squawking ]

JOSEPH: Captain Danielou
came this afternoon.

He was quite polite.

Well, why shouldn't he be?

He's an extremely
conscientious officer.

Tell me
about Dr. Bresselles.

How well did you and your wife
know him?

Oh, one can have a conversation
with him, at least.

He's a civilized man --
a rarity in these parts.

We spent a few evenings with him
early on.

Why do you ask?

Did your wife get on
particularly well with him?

Dr. Bresselles told me
about her affair, M. Gastin --

what happened,
why you came out here.

Who told him?

My wife.

She had to tell him.
She was so unhappy.

She needed pills.

And who told Leonie Birard?

-Did you?
-No.

Well,
somebody must have done.

Who else knew about it, apart
from the priest and the doctor,

two people we've been told
we can put our trust in?

Do either of you
go to church?

No, I'm afraid not.

Oh.

Very clever.

But even if you are right,
I don't see what it's got to do

with the murder
of Leonie Birard.

All it means is

Bresselles is just as malicious
as the rest of them.

Doesn't it?

[ Bell tolling ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

PAUMELLE: Theresa, fill them up
as fast as you can.

[ Man chanting in Latin ]

[ Hooves clopping ]

Ah. Hello.

Ah. Morning, sir.

I believe you went
to see Gastin yesterday, sir.

The examining magistrate and I
had a little, um, chat.

We obviously
can't find Gastin guilty

on the evidence of a single
witness, particularly a child.

Particularly as
he's innocent, Captain.

Well, he certainly
still swears

he never went near the toolshed
on Tuesday morning.

He said he might have done
on Monday.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Man chanting in Latin ]

M. Sellier -- Marcel's father.

That's Marcel's mother.

The one who stands
to inherit everything.

I don't see Mme. Gastin
or Jean-Paul.

I hardly think they'd feel
very welcome here today, do you?

Today of all days.

-[ Chanting continues ]
-[ Bell tolling continues ]

Well, I have work to do.

Look, I think I might leave you
to it, if you don't mind.

-[ Chanting in Latin ]
-[ Chanting in Latin ]

[ Priest chanting in Latin ]

-[ Chanting in Latin ]
-[ Chanting in Latin ]

-Amen.
-Amen.

[ Priest chanting in Latin ]

Jean-Paul.

Jean-Paul.

I'll be sitting over there.

You shouldn't hate your father

because he makes you unhappy,
Jean-Paul.

He's just as lonely
as you are.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

Do you want to know
what really happened?

I do.

On the Tuesday,
when break finished,

father went off
to the town hall.

I could see him from my desk.

A bit later, Marcel went to
the window, the one on the left.

Everyone else
was fooling about.

Except you and Marcel.

A few minutes later,
when father came back,

I saw him go over to our house
and go in.

Where was Marcel
when this was happening?

He'd gone over
to the other window by then,

the one on the right.

I don't know
what he was looking at,

but it wasn't my father.

He couldn't have seen him
from there.

And when father
came out of our house,

he came straight over to the
schoolyard and back into class.

So he didn't go into the shed
at all.

I saw.
He didn't go anywhere near it.

Marcel's a liar, monsieur!

Very pleasant.

Do you often forge
medical certificates

for your patients, Doctor?

Only for insurance purposes.

After all,
insurance companies

are such vague,
far-off institutions.

Don't you agree?
Rather like the government.

I mean,
if they can't afford to pay

a bit over the odds,
who can?

And this view is shared
quite a lot by the village.

Oh, yes.
To a man, I'm afraid.

Well, almost to a man.

And we both know
what happened to him.

Mm-hmm.

Tell me about
the motorbike accident.

Was Marcellin's son
really hurt at all?

Oh, yes, his leg was broken,
all right,

but it's relatively easy

to stress the possibility
of complications

in medical reports.

And therefore help Marcellin

claim considerably
more compensation

than he was entitled to.

It couldn't go to a more
desperately needy fellow.

Whose fault
was the accident?

Was it the motorbike rider's
or Philippe Marcellin's?

It was evening.
It was dark.

Where did it happen?

On the road
out from the village.

Near Leonie Birard's?

Mm-hmm.

-Was the driver drunk?
-No, certainly not.

So he must have
seen the boy.

In fact, there were two boys --
Philippe and Marcel Sellier.

Marcel told me.

So, what were they doing?
Playing about?

I suppose so.

So Philippe
ran in front of the bike.

The driver
had no chance to stop.

So he took the blame
because he was insured

and had nothing to lose.

Yes.

He was a patient of mine
from one of the farms.

I persuaded him.

But I've no idea what the boys
were up to, believe me.

Anyway, it was weeks
before the shooting.

I really don't see
the connection.

It's a pity Leonie Birard
isn't here to help us, Doctor.

-Thank you, Doctor.
-Pleasure.

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Dog barking ]

Excuse me, monsieur.

My husband's not in.

I'm aware of that, madame.

I'd like a word
with Philippe.

[ Knock on door ]

Come in.

Hello.

Are you the policeman
from Paris?

[ Snap ]

Your friend told you.

[ Chuckles ]

Did you make this?

Yeah.

Stops me getting bored,
stuck in here all day.

It's very good.

Why is that plaster
still on your leg, Philippe?

After all, it's better now,
isn't it?

[ Sighs ]

You've talked to the doctor,
haven't you?

How did it happen?

You were outside
Leonie Birard's house

about a month
before she died.

What were you doing?

We were going to stick
a horseshoe in her bed.

Oh. Of course.

The horseshoe.
I remember.

I was halfway through the window
when she came in.

I ran off,
but she was yelling after me.

Then the motorbike hit me.

And I don't feel guilty.

She used to shout things
about my father.

And you made Marcel promise

not to tell anyone
the accident was your fault

so your father
would get the insurance.

He needs a new van
so he can have a longer round,

so he can make more money.

Except you'll tell them now.

No, no.

It's nothing to do with me.

I suppose you have to be careful
standing at the window,

in case anyone sees
you can walk.

Did Leonie Birard see you?

She was always standing there,

waving the horseshoe at me
whenever I looked out.

I was sure
she was going to tell someone.

What did Marcel
come to say just now?

That if he was questioned again,
he'd have to own up.

The funeral
made him feel funny.

And he will say he didn't see
M. Gastin after all,

but he saw you at the window.

Yes.

And then he went to the other
window and saw Leonie Birard.

Did you shoot her,
Philippe?

I -- I was only aiming
at the window.

Really.

Just to scare her.

Can I help, sir?

Philippe Marcellin
has just confessed

to the murder
of Leonie Birard.

He what?

Does one of these rifles
belong to him?

No.

B-But he was in bed
at the time of the shooting.

-He's got a broken leg.
-Did have a broken leg.

But if the rifle isn't
in his room, where is it?

Do you want me
to search the house

or arrest him straightaway?

Are you going
to La Rochelle, Captain?

I was planning to.

-Would you wait here awhile?
-Yes, of course.

If you want us
to search the house --

Oh, that shouldn't
be necessary.

If all goes well,

I'd like you to take me to
the station in an hour or two.

I'm planning to take
the evening train back to Paris.

Where's the rifle now,
Philippe?

In the shed.
Down there.

And how
did it get down there?

You could have hardly gone
downstairs and across the yard

with that enormous plaster
on your leg.

Did your father
take it down for you?

No.

Well...yes.

Yes, he did.

Straight afterwards?

Yes.
He saw me do it, you see?

He was down in the yard.

Standing by the shed, from which
he could see Leonie Birard

just as well as you could?

Now, what really happened?
Tell me what happened.

Would you mind
waiting downstairs, madame?

I'll be down very soon.

The rifle was already
in the shed, wasn't it?

Your father took it out
and shot Leonie Birard.

What will they do to him?

You must tell me the truth,
Philippe.

He saw her at the window.

She was poking her tongue out
at him.

It seems so silly.

But she used to shout
such awful things at him.

I saw it all.

He rushed into the shed
and came out and fired at her.

Did he aim carefully?

Not at all.
He was furious.

Anyway,
he's a useless shot.

He looked so horrified
when she fell down.

He threw the gun
in the shed

and ran off and got even
more drunk than usual.

Will he go to prison?

Not for long.

Not if they believe he was
only trying to scare her.

Marcel thought I'd shot her.

Is that why he told a lie?

Yes.

Because we're friends.

A Pernod, Louis.

[ Exhales sharply ]

You think you're so clever,
don't you?

They'll all stand up for me,
though.

The whole village!

You'll see.

I've no doubt they will.

What's that
supposed to mean?

It's good to have friends,
Marcellin.

I've just been hearing
how good it is.

[ Whistle blows ]

It's been an honor, sir.

I hope you enjoyed
your stay with us.

Well, just a little.

Of course, I did.

Especially the oysters
and the mussels.

They were never so fresh
in Paris.

[ Train chugging I]

Subtitling made possible by
Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]