Original subtitles

CAPTAIN MARLEAU

NOT QUITE WIDOWED

Dying to die

I don't want to wait

And leaving to leave

I choose the tender age

...sang Barbara, whom I was lucky enough to get to know quite well.

Is there any greater proof of love

than to accompany in death

those who have accompanied us throughout their lives?

What are you doing here?

I'm practicing being dead.

What the hell are you doing here?

Who do you think you are? Have you no respect?

I respect what is respectable.

Captain Marleau, National Police.

-So, you're the great magician? -What does that mean?

You're the funeral home Houdini,

the one who makes corpses disappear, poof!

Well, it works. It's gone!

Four days ago, did you bring

a Mr. Lemaître to your beauty salon for cold meat?

It's incomprehensible.

The body was there, waiting to be prepared,

and suddenly, he disappeared.

I live upstairs. No one broke in. It makes no sense.

Really...

Well, I don't understand it either.

Whoever did this has some prejudice against me.

So, did you know the deceased?

Yes, he was a very close friend of mine. I embalmed him.

He looked magnificent. It's terrible, terrible, terrible...

And do you, by chance,

know of anyone who wanted to hurt him?

People are so mean...

TURNER AND SONS FUNERAL HOME

-Is the cop still here? -She's with Dad.

-Damn it. We don't need this. -They have to investigate.

Lemaître was already causing trouble before he died...

I'm going to go see.

What did Mr. Lemaître die of?

An infarction.

Where? In the myocardium?

That's brutal.

He had a terrible lifestyle.

I believe you.

You know there's a little bird saying

that your friend didn't die of natural causes.

He's even saying that it was you who killed him.

That's grotesque.

We were friends for 20 years. Our children played together...

I'm not a cop, but...

if you want to know about the disappearance,

I'd check out Eternity.

Who are they? Competitors of yours, no doubt.

The Eternity group. They wanted to buy me out, but I refused to sell.

Oh, I understand.

I tried to sell myself, and I didn't make a dime.

So you think someone might have stolen your friend's body

just to piss you off?

Do you know any predators with any qualms?

Well, I don't know, a hunter who campaigns for the ASPCA?

Well! One wonders who's going to get the insurance money...

Oh my God...

A sunroof!

How practical, especially in town.

Made for the city! And it doesn't emit anything.

How much is a car like this worth?

It's not for sale. I'm sorry.

I don't care. I have a crappy ol' car.

You don't use public transportation?

It's free in Dunkirk. Captain Marleau.

-Are you Martine Lemaître? -Yes.

Your husband must have loved polishing his big toy.

You don't?

I love driving it.

Oh yeah, and that way, it's kind of like he's next to you.

In place of the body.

I picked out his best suit for the ceremony.

I wanted so badly to see him like this one last time.

I don't think I'll ever forgive Turner

for his body disappearing.

Wasn't Turner a friend of yours?

Of my husband.

His passion for death, his taste for funeral rituals...

I don't like him very much. He always made me feel uncomfortable.

Really?

Why did you ask him to bury your husband then?

Why didn't you file a complaint against him?

Michel's death was so brutal,

and I have so many things to take care of...

My husband was everything to me. I'm completely lost.

I understand. And your husband

had such a big practice.

Insurance pays, huh?

In general,

they never pay, the bastards.

Ah, you have two ovens.

Speaking of hotheads,

had Turner already done business with your husband?

Not that I know of.

So, you must not be aware

that some people are saying your husband

was murdered by Turner.

That's impossible. Michel died in my arms.

He had his attack here. He fell like a sledgehammer.

He'd had a heart attack before. He had several scares.

Who told you such a thing? That's monstrous!

Oh, what do I hear?

My daughter, Virginie.

Hello.

You look alike.

It's hard for her too.

A daddy's girl.

Ugly.

Anybody home?

Is there anyone here?

Anybody home?

Warrant Officer Pichon. I was expecting you earlier!

I'm Marleau.

-Come in. -Thank you, that's nice.

Say, your station is as empty as a post-coital brain.

We closed over a year ago. It's just me now.

And I only come two days a week.

To please the mayor.

I appealed the decision.

Why? Were you afraid to be here alone?

There was a whole brigade here until two years ago.

We had a boarding school for boys and beautiful barracks.

You think they're beautiful?

You need to brush up on your classics.

Oh yeah, it's like summer camp.

The showers are over there?

When I was a kid, we did our pregnancy tests in the sink.

Ah! How nice. Looks comfortable.

Yeah. Do you know the mortician?

Like all the locals.

He's a funny one. Nice, though.

He's been in Dunkirk for about twenty years.

I watched his kids grow up. Good kids.

So what really happened to his son?

A paragliding accident four or five years ago.

Terrible, isn't it? To be in a wheelchair at his age.

You think it's more fun when you're 75?

And his whole death business is doing well?

He has a good reputation.

He knows about embalming the dead and presenting corpses.

-People don't complain. -I'm surprised.

Except when there's a dead body flying off toward eternity.

Do you know Eternity, his competitor?

They're big.

They practically rule Dunkirk.

And Turner and Lemaître, were they really buddies?

Not so much anymore.

That's not what Turner says.

What I know is that they were avoiding each other.

OK, well, I have to see the coroner. Who is he?

Morel, a country doctor who works for the Dunkirk hospital.

He handles the entire region.

The last crime here was committed 11 years ago!

And what was it? A migrant beaten by fascists?

OK, well, cancel tomorrow morning's appointment,

and tell everyone this time.

OK.

Ah! Dr. Morel?

Yes, that's me.

Captain Marleau.

I just read the forensic report on Mr. Lemaître...

It's almost as empty as a fascist's brain.

Well, it wasn't a very difficult diagnosis.

Blocked artery, high cholesterol,

heart with valves at each aorta,

and the respiratory capacity of a four-year-old child.

Not to mention the diabetes.

Oh, well.

Lemaître was a dead man walking.

He knew it, and he didn't care.

In that case... Well, thank you, Doctor.

You're welcome.

The cop who issued the burial permit, do you know him?

No. Well, it was a guy from the police station in Dunkirk.

What do you want to know?

No, nothing.

Well, yes, actually.

What do you think of Mr. Turner?

Well, nothing... We cross paths from time to time.

Oh, right.

He's a bit of a weirdo, isn't he?

Almost as suspicious as Mr. Lemaître's death.

I have been a physician for over 30 years.

I'm no longer surprised by anything.

I understand. A doctor like you...

A forensic doctor, moreover.

Well, I can confirm that he died of a heart attack.

Is this what you want?

If you're OK with it, I'm OK with it.

You're the expert though, right?

As an expert,

did you ever hear anything

about strange or suspicious things happening around here?

Why are you asking me that?

I don't know, maybe there are more murders.

In Dunkirk?

Oh, yes!

I remember a woman who fell down the stairs of her cellar,

but the investigation was never able to determine whether or not

she had been pushed by her husband.

They were both very drunk.

Ah, women!

When will they just let men beat the crap out of them?

Is this yours?

How much is a thing like that worth?

Around 50,000, right?

Look, I've been a doctor

for over 34 years.

I do a lot of driving, and this is my treat.

Do you mind?

Me? No, not at all. It's just...

I wondered, I don't know,

if Mr. Turner gave you money

to send him bodies...

But you are a public figure.

I wouldn't dare ask. Have a good trip.

Melchior!

Melchior, come and help me!

Hey, do you ever answer the phone?

Ah, Mr. Vouillot.

Yeah, and this is a copy of your unpaid invoices.

We'll speak to our accountant.

You're the accountant, right?

I'll make a note to call you back.

Mr. Vouillot, my son is handicapped.

Listen, I need a check for 9,508. And that includes VAT!

-Good morning, first of all. -Good morning.

If not, I promise you, I'll take this beautiful coffin

and the three others in the window!

If you want to put your dead in a cardboard box,

that's your business.

-The family will love that! -Mr. Vouillot, I agree with you.

Honestly, I would have done the exact same thing.

We craftsmen speak the same language.

Mr. Turner, I've been waiting six months to get paid.

Between craftsmen, as you say.

You know the story!

My cash flow is below sea level, and the bank is stalking me!

Ah, the banks, the banks. The worst.

Barbarians!

Mr. Vouillot, I'm working on Father Béranger.

The Béranger family asked me for the Médici model.

The Medici model is your masterpiece.

With the Medici model,

you succeeded in bringing the art of woodworking to...

to its apex. You're really an amazing guy.

It's 7,800 dollars. I asked for a little bit of cash.

I asked for cash.

So, little birdie...

"That bastard Lemaître didn't die of natural causes.

"He was killed by Stanislas Turner."

Really? "And he's not the first, I'll tell you that,

"and he won't be the last if you don't stop him."

OK. Who's next?

Saint Clouzot, pray for us poor sinners.

He's not the first, and he's not the last.

So who's next? I have no idea.

I'm a bird Crow, crow, crow

I'm a bird Crow, crow, crow

INSURANCE AGENCY

LEMAITRE

How are you, little fish? You've got big fins.

Why do you have big fins?

Ah, is it because you're afraid the little cat will eat you?

Is there anyone here?

Anybody home?

Is there anyone here?

-Yes? -Ah...

Captain Marleau, police. Turner, does that ring a bell?

Vaguely.

Do you know him or not?

Well, I took several calls from him for Mr. Lemaître.

Why?

How long ago?

Five or six months.

No, but I mean recently.

Well, no, but you know, Mr. Lemaître took most of his calls

on his cell phone, on his private line. I...

Oh, right.

What about emails?

Can I look at his computer?

It's locked, and I don't have the code.

Well, what are you good for then?

Me, I... I answer the phone, I mean, I work at reception, I...

OK, can I see his calendar?

He managed that.

A boss who doesn't give his calendar to his secretary?

Don't you think that's strange?

-Are you his secretary or what? -No, assistant. I was his assistant.

Assistant in what? In wellness?

-How long have you worked with him? -Seven years.

Seven years? Well, that didn't bring him luck, did it?

Happy birthday. Well, the keys to the safe.

You must have those.

Of course not. We won't get any help.

What?

I slipped, and it opened.

Lots of interesting stuff.

Registered mail, registered mail, a letter from the courts.

Bank statement, interesting.

He was in trouble, your boss. Did you know that, at least?

-A little bit... -A little bit?

What's this? What's it called

when you steal your customers' money

by promising to invest in things that will pay off?

And for a few months,

you pay them interest, etc.,

and the rest of the money goes into your pocket?

What's that called?

Bad investments?

OK. Madoff. Does that ring any bells?

No, of course not. Ponzi scheme?

The Ponzi pyramid scheme, not Ramsey's pyramid in Egypt!

My God...

Well, how do you spell scam?

With a "c" or a "k?"

All this stuff, here, the customers sending registered letters

to say they're taking him to court, did you know about that?

No, I didn't know anything! Well...

Yes, I knew he was in trouble, but he was so nice to me, so I...

Nice isn't a career, is it? How nice was he?

How nice?

"Nice how?"

Olympe de Gouges, if you can hear us!

You really are something.

What will happen to me?

Well, first of all, stop eating that crap,

and then I don't know, go join Femen.

It wouldn't hurt.

Death is dancing...

Da Silva?

He went to get his little cardboard suitcase...

Very funny.

Not as funny as you!

And a lot less than your friend

who had a lot of fun ripping people off.

But you knew that,

since he was your friend.

We didn't talk business.

Really? Wasn't he your friend?

Didn't he tell you the IRS was on his ass?

You liked his buttocks, didn't you?

He didn't tell you the insurance agencies were on his back?

And that a lot of the people he ripped off were pressing charges?

Well no, I had no idea it was that bad.

And he never gave you a bite?

No! Unfortunately, no, I wasn't that lucky.

That's weird.

Because you two look so much alike.

You have delusions of grandeur. It's all Hollywood.

You're also in the red, you have the taxman on your back,

so what could you possibly have talked about on the phone?

Since you called him five times the week before he died.

And on his private line, as I recall.

I have cash flow problems.

I thought he could help me with a loan.

-And did you get it? -Well, unfortunately, no.

That sucks. He died, huh.

It did suck, especially for him.

Sucks a lot for him.

What do you want from me?

Are you going to keep pestering me? Enough already.

Da Silva!

It's not my fault.

I'm just the messenger for anonymous snitches!

What, anonymous snitches? Little birds?

Who's your little bird?

What would the police do without them?

Show me the letter. Show me what he sent you.

-No. -No?

You can have a copy.

What a bastard... What a bastard!

Are you serious?

Absolutely.

Do you see me as a killer?

With other clothes, yeah.

Clothes, yeah...

He would frame me for killing old ladies

to get rid of me.

Dogs, dogs....

You have to stop doing coke. You're so paranoid.

I'm paranoid? Well, go and verify what he said.

ETERNITY FUNERAL HOME

On the extreme right,

the small business crusher, Popovitch Adrienne,

versus, to the extreme left, the undertaker,

the number two contender, Mr. Turner. Serve, Mr. Popovitch.

Him, a competitor? Are you kidding?

15-0.

We're not competitors. We're not in the same business.

We accompany people on their final journeys.

He's a mortician.

15A.

Eternity captures nearly 80% of the market in the region.

We offer a complete funeral service

and extend credit entirely free of charge.

And you, Turner, aside from charging double,

what else do you do?

Let. You wanted to buy him out because he bothered you, right?

Turner is a pretty good embalmer.

His work is interesting, but as for the rest...

Emba... Did he say embalmer?

Don't use words that are beyond you.

It's a word that means something.

You're a box seller.

Advantage, Turner.

His suppliers are demanding payment in cash

because he's in such debt.

The bank has him by the throat,

forcing him to charge extravagant prices

that will scare away his customers.

Our offer was unexpected.

Out! So, you could have stolen the corpse

from him just to piss him off, right?

Ah, is that why you're here?

You're a real bastard, Turner.

You'll say anything to save your ass.

Fault! You didn't answer my question.

He won't answer.

He would have to tell the truth.

Turner would do a lot to stop bleeding customers.

He's in debt. It's not the best way to make friends.

God sends clients to Eternity. It's easier that way.

Gentlemen, match point.

Mr. Popovitch, did you know Mr. Lemaître?

He had some enemies too.

The first time I've heard some truth

come out of that infamous mouth.

So?

Turner's name is actually Tournier.

He was born in Belgium, in Ostend.

Then, he pops up in Toronto, Canada,

according to immigration records.

Employee of a film studio. He was a make-up artist.

Damn... You see?

But between Canada and here, nothing.

Do you think Lemaître might have ripped him off too?

Could be.

And Turner killed him

and made the body disappear to avoid the investigation?

Could be. He was greasing a lot of palms.

The man who sent us the tip.

All that to get customers. He was even paying cops off.

I heard from colleagues.

Your colleagues?

Maybe.

No... There are dirty cops in the gendarmerie?

No, leave us to die in peace!

Give the zombies their bodies!

The zombie dance!

Zombie dance! "Oh, I have a blue coat!"

"No, they're teeth!"

A cop came to see me.

Me too. What's the problem?

She thinks I'm stupid.

She thinks Lemaître was killed.

She's doing her job.

Lemaître's body's gone. What's the problem?

It wasn't supposed to happen. You have to let some cash go.

Calm down, man.

This is about money. OK?

-I want 10,000 more. -I don't have it.

-Well, find it. -Or else?

I might have to revisit my autopsy report.

Did you know someone sent in a tip about Lemaître's death?

He might be interested in you.

I'm just an ordinary doctor.

You're a piece of shit.

Bravo, Stanislas Tournier. Turner. Excuse me.

What's this?

It's to keep the eyeballs inflated.

Show me?

Sleeping beauty with bicycle eyes...

I'm sorry...

Why'd you leave Canada? The movie business was doing well.

You had enough of sloppy actresses, right?

I had a little problem on a shoot.

Ah, what?

I was Johnny Depp's makeup artist.

Who?

Johnny loved me. One day, he disappeared for 24 hours.

The producer blamed me.

He said I was a bad influence and blacklisted me.

Producers do that?

-Yes. -My God...

So, how do you keep the mouth shut? It must be hard to keep it shut, huh?

We suture it.

Not glue?

No, it looks just like glue, but it's not.

I thought it was glue, like we did back in school.

-No. -No? OK.

Did you meet him at school, Mr. What's-his-name?

No, I met him when I got here. I started doing makeup

for crappy commercials.

He handled the insurance. We got along.

You became buddies?

He was an irresistible guy. Irresistible...

When he arrived, it was a delight.

Why did you argue with him then?

Someone told me.

Because he was also a little crook,

a magnificent thug, so he convinced people to invest everything.

It's funny. It's hard to believe you.

You're not used to dealing with honest people.

You're not wrong. I only talk to liars. Where's your wife?

She had the strange idea to stay in Los Angeles.

Maybe it had something to do with the number of producers.

She made a cuckold of you?

You could say that.

So, if it's not your wife, since she's not here,

who else knows you as well as she does

and would want to hurt you?

Find them.

You didn't tell me your husband was in trouble with the IRS,

his associates, and even with his clients!

I knew he was in trouble, but that was it.

He didn't talk to me about business.

And what's your job? Administrative director?

So, if your husband was involved in a scam,

you would know, right?

Do you know what it's like when the sky falls?

Well, I read Asterix, like everyone else.

Anyway, your husband conned a lot of people.

He didn't just have friends.

So, I'm wondering if you caught wind of something

between him and someone else? I don't know, something weird?

There were calls, sometimes at night.

Michel always answered them.

He talked to me about toxic financial products

and said he had been framed by a bank.

It was Turner calling?

No, it wasn't him. I know his voice.

Who was it then?

You know what? Your husband's body didn't just fly away.

It's nonsense. It doesn't make sense.

I think he was killed, and he's not the last on the list.

What do you think?

I don't know anything more!

Well! In his will, did your husband write anything specific?

I don't know.

I haven't had time to go to the notary yet.

And where is this notary? In Dunkirk?

Yes.

I've never seen this before. A man and a woman who share nothing.

You should go see a post-mortem marriage counselor.

Or, if you want, I'll give you the number of my shrink.

Her name is Olga. She's 50 bucks an hour.

You seem to enjoy this.

What's wrong with you?

In that case, I'll have to cancel the deed of sale.

Sincerely,

Ms. Massoni.

Send that out today, please.

OK?

It's funny that some men think

that women can't resist their intimidation.

Yeah, it's so funny.

All the women that get murdered

at their bastard husbands

every year must be dying of laughter too, right?

And you are?

Captain Marleau, isn't it obvious?

I want to know if Mr. Michel Lemaître left a will or, I don't know,

stuff to manage, an inheritance...

My husband took care of that, but he died five years ago.

I went back to school.

Your husband is dead too? Marital bliss isn't in the air, is it?

We live longer than men, according to statistics.

At least we have that.

Yeah.

Oh, here we go again... Unbelievable!

Good evening.

These machines cost a fortune,

but you have to take evening classes to learn to fix them.

You're doing great.

You know that I'm bound by professional secrecy.

As am I.

And all the paperwork, the search warrants,

the arrest warrants. I'm fed up!

I hate it too.

And for a notary, that's a handicap.

You have lice.

There was no will, at least not to my knowledge.

I only have their title

and their life insurance.

Their life insurance policies? There are two of them?

Yes, two.

In his wife's name?

In the event of death, yes.

How much?

I'm not in a position to give you that information.

Come on, between us girls... Solidarity, eh?

-Well... I'll be right back. -OK.

No snooping!

No, of course not.

Two million.

Two million? Does his wife know?

I can't tell you that.

The insurance company asked us to wait to contact her.

Why? Because of the corpse that got away?

Probably, yes. There's a clause that excludes the payment

in case of suicide or murder in which the recipient might be involved.

They'll do anything not to pay.

They have all these...

these clauses and paragraphs. It's crazy.

And the kid there, isn't that Lemaître's daughter?

Virginie? Yes.

Well, maybe she told her mother

about the insurance policy?

She's only been here three months.

She doesn't have access to that type of information.

She couldn't really help you,

and she's still in shock.

And her mother, do you know her?

It's a small town, you know.

We've all known each other since kindergarten.

Can I have photocopies?

Only because it's you. I'll photocopy them for you.

While you're doing that,

I wanted to talk to you about that funeral home guy, Turner.

Do you handle his business?

No, but my husband drew up the deed of purchase

for old Mr. Bruno, his predecessor.

So, your husband knew him.

How well do you know him?

We cross paths.

Unfortunately, our professions sometimes bring us into contact.

He's a rather charming man.

Charming, a mortician?

Like Eros and Thanatos in one.

Where's the kid?

She went to smoke a cigarette.

Can I use the bathroom?

Uh, yeah. It's down the hall to the left.

Stop smoking.

You get paid by the bastards who make money off cancer patients.

Come, I have to talk to you.

Don't you want to know what happened to your father?

No, I don't care.

It was no Little House on the Prairie at your house, was it?

No, not really, no.

My father didn't give a shit about us. We never saw him.

He spent his life drinking, eating, and fucking.

OK? Is that it?

Well, I'm fine with it. Does your mother know?

Of course she knows.

She's not going to tell you she was humiliated all her life.

Even dead, he's still a pain.

Can I go?

Hey, hey.

if you knew something important, would you tell me?

Why are you telling me this?

Well, I don't know, your boss doesn't seem to be in a hurry

to let us talk.

I have to get back.

Confirm death certificate

for Gisèle Kaminsky who died while in palliative care

this morning at 2:45 a.m.

-I'm sorry I'm late. -It's OK.

Run, fatty, run!

NO BICYCLES

Oh, damn...

I'm quitting smoking.

Medical-psychological center?

MEDICAL-PSYCHOLOGICAL CENTER

I think I need to come in again tomorrow to...

Of course. You know, we all have difficulties...

Right. But I feel like...

Will you begin?

Thanks to all of you and to Florence,

I stopped drinking three years ago.

I continue to attend these sessions with you.

We keep going.

The first question Florence asked me was

what I was afraid of if I stopped drinking.

And I think I was just...

afraid of being myself.

I was ashamed... of what I was. I didn't like myself,

I thought nobody could love me. I was in a prison,

and I didn't see it. I didn't want to see it.

So I drank, a lot.

Freedom has a price,

a price that is always very scary at first.

There's a part of me that hates being fat,

but on the other hand, I also like being round,

so I... I can't do it.

Is it other people staring that bothers you?

No, no. I mean, yes. Well, sometimes yes and sometimes no.

Sugar is good.

I understand.

It feels good on the way down.

I think you do it to protect yourself.

From what?

From her guilt.

Guilt over what?

Knowing things you shouldn't.

Are you still drinking?

Yeah.

But no one sees it at home.

Why don't you tell them?

Well, I don't want to disappoint them.

Why don't we chat for a while? You look miserable.

-No, I have to go home. -Come on. A little oxygen won't hurt!

And it's legal. Right?

Tell me, the shrink seems to like you.

And the notary too.

It was you. You're following me.

I have to. I have no friends.

You think I'm an idiot.

I wouldn't dare.

Was it Juliette who brought you back to Alcoholics Anonymous?

Yeah. I was at the bottom of a hole.

Or a bottle.

She was great.

You drink that much?

Well, I'm starving. How about some dinner?

Does your father know you drink?

That I drank, yes.

Oh, you don't anymore?

Sir, can I have a half pint

and your finest tap water for the lady.

He didn't know what to do.

Neither did my brother. I was unbearable.

I thought I was a cool rebel,

but I had just become an alcoholic.

Juliette saw it right away.

She had been there too, so we talked about it...

-It was kind of our secret. -Why were you so close?

Well, when we were little, she used to come to the house a lot.

Whenever my dad went on a work trip, she looked after us, so...

Yeah, he loves her.

And her husband didn't mind?

I don't know about that. We never saw him, so...

Thank you, sir.

-What did he die of? -Don't know. Heart attack, I think.

You don't seem pathetic to me.

I'm suffocating here in Dunkirk.

The sadness, the smell, the mourning. I can't take it anymore.

You have to tell your father.

I can't. He relies on us too much. It's too hard.

And the whole thing with that idiot Lemaître.

I just can't.

What do you think of the whole Lemaître thing?

I don't know.

I don't understand it. It's ruining everything.

What do you mean?

Well, I love writing,

and I sent a writing sample to the Balzac Foundation,

and they gave me a scholarship.

A one year residency in a castle in Burgundy.

Mazel tov!

I never told my father or my brother.

You have to get out of here, baby.

Get out soon.

This bullshit between your dad and Lemaître

is going to come back to bite him in the ass somehow.

The officer is in the study.

She interviewed Juliette, Virginie, Martine.

She's asking questions about you, about us.

I don't like it, Dad. It smells fishy.

She's doing her job. Why aren't you in your chair?

It's OK. Do you know what time it is?

But there's no time.

People come here at all hours.

Remember the cabinetmaker the other day?

Plus, it was your idea, and it's a great idea.

-Well, I'm sick of it. -You're tired of it? Isn't it fun?

There's something childish about that, no?

I would love to be in a chair from time to time.

Dad! I know your technique

has always been to sweep shit under the rug.

I'll do whatever I can to keep the house afloat,

but this won't work.

I'm going to let it go.

-What? -There's nothing left for me here.

What do you mean by that, Dad?

Do you remember the Canadian song:

"It's not worth it to leave your loved ones

"just to spin balloons on your nose."

You and your sister loved it.

Montreal's not bad. The autumn.

Will you take care of your sister?

Yeah, Pichon, what's up?

I can't get my hands on Morel, the coroner.

He's not in the hospital or at home.

Damn. This stinks to high heaven.

All the dead bodies in the area go through him,

so if there's something fishy, he knows about it.

What do I do?

Can you send out a BOLO?

-Right away? -Yeah, thanks.

I'm out of here. It's starting to pour.

Who is it?

My sister. I'll call her back tomorrow.

Hello, you've reached the voicemail of Melchior Turner.

Leave me a message after the beep.

What are you doing here?

Nothing, I... I was looking for the kitchen.

I was thirsty, and Melchior only has beer up there.

Hello.

Captain Marleau, gendarmerie.

When did you last see Dr. Morel?

Uh, last night. Day before yesterday.

Ah, the day before yesterday. And since then?

Well, he dictated an autopsy to me yesterday over voicemail...

-What's going on? -No, nothing.

If he ever shows up, tell him to report to the police.

I also need Mr. Massoni's death certificate.

-The former notary? -Yeah.

And the forensic report, if possible.

If you like.

-Should I follow you? -Yes.

Very kind...

It's over here.

Pichon, where are you? Still fishing with Balou?

Yeah.

Yeah. Listen to me.

The two forensic reports

and the two death certificates were signed by Morel. Yeah.

And it turns out that they occurred five years apart,

and they're exactly the same!

Both signed by Turner?

I'd like to know where the notary's body ended up.

You mean if he was cremated?

No body, no evidence. Get it?

So we have to find Morel.

If he's involved in this,

that means he's next. Understand?

OK, well, get on it.

Honey? Honey, it's Dad. Wake up.

Dad...

Go run a shower.

Ariane? Ariane? Look at me. Look at me, darling.

Honey, look at me. Everything's OK.

Everything is fine, OK?

It's all right, dear. Come on.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Are you OK, Mrs. Massoni?

Were you looking for me?

Why? When I look for you, I find you.

Well, it's the same for me.

I can't stand being bullshitted to, for example.

Why did you tell me:

"Oh, Mr. Turner, no, I don't know him that well.

"I just ran into him once or twice."

Crossed once or twice in the romantic-gynecological sense?

-No. -No?

No.

I just found the situation touching.

He was alone, he knew no one,

Ariane and Melchior were very small.

That's cute. Well, you should have told me.

Why did you lie to me?

Well, I don't know. Maybe to protect them.

To protect them from what? From me?

I'm pro-choice, but I mean, they're a bit old.

Speaking of which, I had a chat with his daughter yesterday.

She likes you.

Yesterday, at the masked ball...

Anonymous anonymous.

Ah, you're really keeping track of me, huh.

Should I share my calendar with you,

keep a log of what I eat and drink?

That's not necessary. Facebook is the best big brother.

The three of them are very connected.

Ariane has always been very sensitive.

She can't stand the slightest attack on her family.

What kind of attack? Like the theft of a corpse?

Yeah. What an ugly situation.

Awful, awful... This coffee is disgusting.

Speaking of ugly, what did your husband die of?

A heart attack.

Like his friend?

Ugly, ugly...

Poor Mr. Lemaître.

I went to the cemetery, but I couldn't find his grave.

He's not buried here?

He was cremated. Why?

Ah, well...

I don't get it.

Neither do I. It's a mess in here.

I have to clean up.

Well, thank you, Mrs. Massoni.

Ladies, gentlemen.

Goodbye, ma'am.

How can you get yourself into such a state?

You have to stop drinking. It's hurting you!

Damn it, Ariane, we trusted you!

It's OK. She broke down. It happens.

Honey, just explain to us what happened.

You think I'm blind?

That I can't see what's going on?

What?

Aren't you tired of your stupid wheelchair act? It's shameful!

The cop knows everything, Dad. I don't care about the Lemaître mess.

Three days before his death, you were together,

and you weren't talking about the weather.

What will happen to us now?

That's an old cop trick, to pretend she knows stuff.

She doesn't know shit!

Shh. What did she tell you?

Nothing specific.

You see?

OK, shut up. Shut up.

Nothing happened.

Lemaître died of a heart attack. No one could have predicted it.

You're going down, Dad.

And because of you, all three of us are in trouble.

She's going to bring us down.

I'm going to have to let you down because I'm leaving.

Where are you, Marleau? Marleau!

Yeah?

Who do you think you are?

My daughter almost killed herself because of you.

Why are you asking her questions?

To prove to her that she's part of a criminal family, right?

We found her bathed in tears and vomit.

You know she has a drinking problem,

so stop questioning her.

Stop pestering her with your stupid questions

like a fascist.

Oh, calm down, zombie makeup artist!

If not, I'll send you directly to Père Lachaise, is that clear?

There are as many fascistic thoughts in my head

as innocent people in your degenerate family.

My what?

Degenerate family!

-You don't talk to me like that. -I do what I want!

And leave Ariane out of it.

Otherwise, you'll have to deal with me.

Wasn't your daughter Juliette's little pet

when she was this big?

So?

-Juliette knows Virginie too. -Yes.

And who is Virginie? Martine's daughter.

That's four girls who are connected to Lemaître.

And what did he die of?

A heart attack. Really? When did it happen?

Three months after he changed the amount of his life insurance policy.

By how much? Two million. Two million?

God damn...

And who wrote this life insurance policy?

Well, Massoni. No!

Massoni, the one who also died of a heart attack? Well, yeah!

And the medical examiner didn't notice anything about the corpses?

Well, the other one handled those cases. Who?

Dr. Morel. No!

The worst doctor I know!

Honestly, if he takes care of the dead as well as the living,

I wouldn't trust him with my hemorrhoids.

He's not laughing?

No.

Well, speaking of taxidermy,

I think you should do a little lift.

I do! Look at that.

You're sad. You look sad!

Who was it who stuffed the two stiffs?

It was Dad! There's only one problem:

the two bodies flew away,

so no body, no proof.

No evidence, no crime, and if there's no crime,

there's no guilt. Perfect!

No culprit, no crime, no body.

You're pathetic.

Want to spend some time in custody?

In this day and age, I don't recommend it.

Stay away from my family, or you'll regret it.

If you don't want me to mess with your kids,

don't get them involved in your two-bit schemes here.

If you don't like the heat,

don't spend time in the kitchen.

Ugly. Anybody home?

Here. This won't hurt you.

What do you want from me?

Well, I don't know. I heard I almost killed you.

I just got reamed out by your dad.

Oh, you know, he always goes too far.

That's an understatement.

I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Well, I don't want Coluche to be dead anymore.

But you know that's not possible.

But I'm not the right person to...

Well, that's all we need.

Didn't you tell your dad you wanted to get out?

-Yeah. -And?

I can imagine how that went.

That's right.

You're lucky, you know.

Me, lucky?

The taste of vomit in my mouth. Yeah, lucky.

You're lucky because your dad. He's odd, yes,

but at least he likes you. That's rare.

Someone's calling. Who's calling?

Yeah, Pichon.

So, the fishing trip with Officer Balou?

-I have news. -Yeah?

So, what happened?

I was just casting to try out a new fly and...

And the fly wasn't called Mireille.

No, its name was Morel.

Did you see what I told you:

he was the next one on the list.

Hello, Doctor, how are you?

You found it like this?

The door was closed.

He might have missed the turn upstream.

Over there? Have you checked it out?

Yeah, but there's nothing special.

Have you seen this car?

How many tons does a thing like this weigh?

It must have left a mark.

That's what I thought too, but...

there were no break marks on the road.

Maybe he was drinking.

Water, I'm sure.

Take a look at this.

It's really weird. Come and have a look.

Don't you think he's a little far from the wheel?

Look at his feet. They're not touching the pedals!

And the seat wasn't even adjusted.

This is nonsense.

He wasn't driving when the car went in,

so that means someone put him there.

Either he was already dead, or he was half stoned.

What do you think?

I think you're right.

Well, I'm always right.

We're in trouble. We need to find another forensic scientist.

-And the guys, did you call them? -They should be coming.

Good fishing trip?

Only small ones.

You got one big one!

Here they are.

About time, huh?

Lies, garbage bags...

"If anything questionable happens to me,

"it won't be a coincidence."

And that's not all.

"That bastard Lemaître isn't dead." Oh, yeah.

Have you written more like this?

Little sneak.

So...

One, two, three,

Marleau wins.

So,

"That bastard

"Lemaître."

One, two and three.

Morel sent his secretary a message yesterday at 10:45 a.m.

His cell phone rang for the last time at 6:22 p.m.,

four miles from where his body was found.

The car... Well, are you listening?

I see the solution in your eyes. The little birdie...

was Morel. And it was deadly!

-Shit. -Shit.

He must have had a lot of shit in his pants.

Why? Because he was afraid.

He understood that the walls were closing in.

Where's your father?

I don't know.

You don't know?

Minus three.

You know I just saw the coroner?

Looks like a large, beached whale.

I'm wondering if your family has something to do with it.

-This is harassment. -You're right.

The best defense is a good offense.

Did your dad teach you that? He taught you well.

Did he teach you that little handicapped act?

I thought so. Guys who don't walk don't have such disgusting soles.

Dying, the great adventure

...so said Jacques Brel, whom I had the chance to know

at the end of his life.

In choosing the Médici model,

you're not just choosing a funeral

or a way to say goodbye.

You're saying hello.

The Medici model is the top of the line here at Turner.

What does high-end mean?

It's not about money. It's about intention.

Do you mind? Excuse me, I need to borrow him for a minute.

Are you interested in a little camping trip?

I'll be right back. Keep going without me.

Go take care of the customers. It's OK. Everything's fine.

Did you put air in your tires?

So, Jacques Brel, Barbara, a story, a romance?

Yesterday afternoon?

Yesterday afternoon, I was in my lab embalming Mr. Marceau.

And apart from a dead mime, who else saw you?

-Very funny. -Yeah.

My son.

Nonsense.

I beg your pardon? Be careful.

Morel's dead? Where? How?

I don't know.

Didn't you kill him because he ratted you out?

Yes, that's right. You have quite an imagination...

You have to compensate when you're ugly.

So, was the notary the first one?

Why do you both need so much money?

How much did you get for killing Lemaître?

Speculation.

-Speculation? -Yes.

The Borniol house has been sinking for five years.

Real estate speculation.

And he's buying a 50,000 dollar car...

-Car? -Car.

Car speculation.

And Lemaître and the notary

both died of heart attacks.

That's medical speculation, right?

I'm not interested in money, Captain Marleau.

I hardly knew Massoni,

and Lemaître died of his excesses.

A lot of people have heart attacks after meeting you.

Yes. It's a massacre.

We're in trouble.

What exactly did you do?

The less you know, the better. Believe me.

Nonsense.

We have to get Dad out of the clutches of this cop.

We'll sort this shit out, and then I'm gone.

Oh, no! Put that down.

So, what do you want to do?

Live my life.

Did you really kill Lemaître?

I'm leaving next week, Melchior.

I can't stand the smell of dead people either.

Those dead eyes, that gray skins...

Our clothes stink of death.

Before we get out of here, we need to get Dad home.

Yeah, well, I'll take care of that.

I need you.

So do I. But stop messing with me.

I'm not. He's my father.

He's innocent, I swear, but he's going through hell.

We have to help him, otherwise he won't make it.

LONG LIVE COMMUNISM

Courage and hope...

JEANNE, IF YOU COME HERE, COURAGE AND HOPE

You have a beautiful voice. You should do radio.

Or movies. I saw The Mummy,

and in The Temple of Doom, when she goes,

"I'm going to kill you," I was just riveted.

I didn't know mummies spoke French.

Did you see that one?

The Temple of Doom.

The mummy was a doll that we had made

by a special studio.

I took a print of the face,

and we had a silicone mask made for the actor.

That wasn't... the mummy?

No, you think it's the mummy.

We took advantage of the camera pointing

at the flame of a candle

to replace the mummy with the actor. It was a trick.

So the mummy didn't speak French?

Why did you change careers

after working with Hitchcock?

I think I prefer the dead to the living.

To actors. To actresses, especially.

Actresses...

Why?

They say that an actor is a little less than a man,

and an actress is a little more than a woman.

Oh yeah? I don't get it, but I still like it. You're funny.

Thank you.

You'll sleep there.

I'm right above, so if there's a problem,

just tap on the pipes.

OK? Well, good night!

What is it?

Mr. Keller, I'm Mr. Turner's lawyer.

Did you forget to call me last night?

Well, yeah, because...

The phone doesn't work here. Bad vibes. Hello?

Yeah, I'm sure, yeah.

I'm here to ask you to release Mr. Turner.

Bad vibes aren't good for anyone.

Well, I'll call you back, huh? Yes, thank you.

I have a statement made by Mrs. Lemaître

which indicates that

Mr. Turner was at her house at the time you assume

he was miles away killing Dr. Morel.

Why did he say he was home then?

Let's just say he wasn't eager to reveal certain things.

As you can see, he had come to ask her again

not to press charges over the disappearance of her late husband.

Everyone knows of Mrs. Lemaître's hostility toward my client,

which makes her testimony questionable.

I'll assess that.

Well, that's your business.

What I know is that you received an email from the DA

commanding you to release my client.

No need to find it. I have a copy. Here you go.

...extreme conditions.

Yes, of course.

-Have a great day. -Yeah.

-Ladies, gentlemen. -Bye.

Yeah, that's right.

Are they making a joke?

What do you think?

-What are you going to do? -I don't know.

You're always so prudent,

yet you agreed to perjure yourself for the mortician.

Well, who asked me?

Don't you think the accusations against Stanislas are ridiculous?

Don't you think it's odd that Dad's body disappeared?

He was humiliated.

This whole thing has been horrible for him.

No, I didn't know.

I feel like I know less than everyone else right now.

And I didn't know you were so attached to your father.

That's not the point.

Why didn't you tell me about the two million you're about to get?

Did you go through the notary's files?

Mom... tell me what you're in on.

Are you worried about money?

Stop it.

You killed him, didn't you? With Stanislas, as you call him?

Of course not!

Are you sleeping with him?

No! What are you...

Where are you going? What's wrong with you?

I hate you!

Problems?

What problems are you talking about?

We don't care He cries, I cry...

Juliette and Martine were called to the station.

That cop is faking it.

Don't worry, she knows absolutely nothing.

She's got nothing on us.

Dad will call the lawyer.

Do you realize you're not even denying it anymore?

After Lemaître, you guys did Morel too, right?

Everything's fine. We're going to be fine as always.

And I have to trust you, as always?

You really think I'm a fool, don't you?

Don't say that.

I can't stand it when you talk like that.

Nobody thinks you're a fool, OK?

Count me out, both of you.

Lemaître needed a lot of money. It was always more.

He had to disappear, to run away.

But he was toast, right?

Well, yeah. His clients were filing complaints against him.

He was about to be caught for fraud.

What could he do?

By the way, how much did Turner get for this?

You've got it all wrong.

Lemaître was blackmailing him. We were his victims, too.

Victims of what? Of killing your husband?

I was going through hell with my husband.

He was crazy jealous, obsessive, violent.

He hit me.

I didn't know how to escape.

Then your knight, Turner, arrived.

He made you a free woman!

Free to fix her copy machine by herself, right?

Stanislas is a good and generous man. He helped me.

He helped me... and Lemaître tricked him.

Turner, a good man? I don't believe that.

On the other hand, what I do believe

is that you look good on camera. You should be an actress.

What I believe is that

since your husband was cremated,

well, Lemaître,

he could no longer prove anything about the murder,

so he had something else against you, didn't he?

Everyone would love to have a buddy like Turner.

Especially two chicks who wanted to kill their husbands.

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

Oh! Morel didn't lend a hand

in causing their heart attacks?

Can I leave?

Look at the merry widow.

So what was the plan with Turner?

Give him a taste of your two million

for services rendered to the motherland?

I told you I have nothing to do with him,

and I don't like him that much.

When you want to kill a husband as ugly as yours,

that doesn't matter much.

I didn't kill my husband, and I didn't ask anyone else to.

Will you let me go?

Of course.

An honest citizen like yourself, of course.

This way. It's straight ahead.

I found another one.

See, I was sure of it. Who was right?

We're not through with the surprises yet.

Oh, no.

Mrs. Vitali? National Police, Captain Marleau.

Ma'am, I don't have good news.

About what?

Your husband, I believe, was murdered.

I don't understand.

My husband died here after going for a swim.

Our friends were here. They can confirm it.

Like the officers who arrived just after.

Your husband died because he was swimming?

A big guy like that, one who runs marathons at 50.

We didn't know he had a coronary problem.

Well, before races,

they do blood tests, and, I don't know,

none of the doctors noticed he had a heart problem?

That's incomprehensible.

Your husband wasn't very nice to you, was he?

Or to your son?

I saw you filed a complaint against him for violence. Right?

Silly fights. I retracted them.

Why? Did he threaten you?

You know what we call a guy who hits his wife,

who humiliates her, who humiliates his son-in-law,

and his employees too?

An asshole, a coward,

and above all, a criminal.

Is that your son I see there?

Antoine. He's autistic, almost blind.

You're aware that your husband had a big life insurance policy, right?

It's weird because he put it in your son's name.

Not very logical.

Who could have changed his mind?

Oh, maybe it was Mrs. Massoni?

Or Mr. Turner? Or both?

Well, yeah, since they had gotten their hands on Mr. Massoni.

They knew how to do it.

To eliminate your husband, for example. Right?

Does your husband have a guardian?

Who inherited the guardianship?

Wouldn't that be you, Catherine de Medici?

We've all known each other since our youth.

Mr. Turner has lived here for 20 years. No one killed anyone.

Bastards die from their rotten hearts.

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

Well, neither do I.

Good day, ma'am.

I put too much chili in it. Is it OK? Is it edible?

It's fine. It's a bit hot, but it's OK.

Maybe it'll loosen our lips.

The muse of the widow clan, Turner,

he stole a lot of money from Marguerite, right?

I already told you. Stanislas never wanted money.

Really? So he kills out of compassion.

That's crazy.

A feminist serial killer avenging abused women.

That's a rare thing.

This isn't Dexter either.

Lemaître stole you, and then he thought,

"Good way to make a little money." Right?

No? Come on, it'll get cold.

CAFETERIA

Did she crack?

It was like giving birth, like two fingers and then nothing.

I wonder how he did it,

getting rid of all these guys,

especially Morel. Saint Francis, pray for us.

The only thing missing is the proof.

Well, you know what?

I know someone who will find you some good evidence.

You sure you know what you're doing?

Well, he's dead. He's not pressing charges.

Didn't you see Mary Poppins?

Ms. Vitali has already referred the matter to the judge

to end the investigation.

She had to cremate her husband, didn't she?

Were you going to start without me?

A Soviet chapka.

Pure Russian rabbit!

Yes. Marleau and Clyde!

So, what good things are you up to?

Well, here we have a marinated husband.

So the idea would be to get him to talk more than his wife.

Usually, it's the opposite.

That's misogynistic.

It's not worthy of you.

Meet Mary Poppins, Public Prosecutor.

Leopold, the medical examiner,

requested by Captain Marleau,

the most beautiful officer I have ever met.

Yeah. He's the man who killed me.

A gift!

Ah, thank you.

Let's see

who we have here.

Beautiful, isn't she?

Some people will never know how to tie a tie!

Hey, Leopold, don't forget, we have a coroner next.

Dear friend, a little patience.

I'm going to take the organs that interest us

and order some special tests.

OK, you're the chef. See you at dessert then?

Champagne! Zero dosage for me.

Enjoy your meal, Mr. Prosecutor!

What're you doing?

My mother was interrogated for hours.

Juliette is still in custody,

and the other cop dug up all the corpses in the cemetery!

What the hell did you do?

Put the gun down. You're scaring me.

Oh, and I forgot. The other doctor who was found dead in his car.

Was that you too?

They're investigating the disappearance of your dad's body.

That's normal...

I don't believe you! Did you kill him?

No! What the hell do you want?

We're a funeral home!

-The dead go through us. That's it! -And why don't I believe you?

My father was in trouble,

and I know he was doing business with yours.

Do you think I'm blind?

Look, I don't understand what you're saying.

Don't lie to me, not to me.

He's not lying to you. He loves you too much to lie to you.

We had a deal with your father.

It was certainly not to kill him.

My father made a deal with yours to help him disappear.

He wanted to escape and get the insurance money.

I can't believe this.

But he had a heart attack...

and his body just disappeared.

But for your father and for Melchior, it's Eternity.

Eternity again?

What? Don't you believe it?

Look, Virginie, I'm not stupid.

You've been snooping around for a week.

You get hired at the notary's office, you pretend to be my brother's lover,

and you're always at the house.

You didn't suspect anything?

Well, yeah. Shenanigans but not murder.

They really took us for fools.

He was a bastard, but... he was still my father.

What's up?

About your forensic scientist.

Well, he was dead

before he was drowned.

A real heart attack.

His heart gave out on him.

Probably as a result of too much emotion.

He was scared to death?

Something like that, yes.

That's ironic.

The ways of the Lord are inscrutable.

But regarding the deceased

that we snatched from his eternal sleep,

we're dealing with a killer

who knew

his chemistry.

Which chemicals?

Protoxamine,

digitoxoside, vioxyrox.

Perfect dosage, taken daily,

in food.

More than five days of that and your naughty husband only felt

a few seconds of pain before his ugly heart let go.

Definitely. No chance of resuscitation.

Well, you know what they say: a good husband is a dead husband.

The first of these products

is used in embalming.

What did I say?

So, the mortician could get that easily?

Like at the local supermarket.

Well, there you go. So, I think

that Mrs. Massoni used Turner

and then recommended him to her abused friends.

A benefactor of humanity.

A benefactor... A profiteer, yeah.

A profiteer playing hit man. All this for what?

To replenish his coffers?

Men are more sentimental

than you think.

Sentimental with three chicks? Excuse me.

One is enough, my dear, just one.

Really?

To marriage.

To divorce!

Juliette's still at the station.

I'm scared, Stan. I'm scared.

She's got nothing on us.

She had the body of that scumbag Vitali exhumed!

She knows, Stan. She knows.

Virginie came back earlier, completely disoriented.

What did you tell her?

Only what I had to...

Everything's fine. Really.

I don't know if you drink whiskey with ice or without,

with or without whiskey, I don't remember.

How do you stay so calm?

I'm not calm, I'm... I'm just happy. Everything's fine.

I mean Morel died of a heart attack behind the wheel.

It was a natural death.

A second autopsy will reveal nothing.

And once Juliette has seen Keller,

I can guarantee you that, in front of a lawyer,

she'll retract her statement and say that she spoke out of fear.

All is well.

Not a moment too soon. I've been up all night.

I gave my car to a migrant. He was freezing to death.

And you? Did you sleep well with your husband's killer?

You wanted to get rid of your husband's body?

Well then, why didn't you burn it

instead of following Turner's screwed up plan?

I want a lawyer.

If you want, I have a lawyer.

If you think it will help you...

The judge won't though

because a good woman killing her husband

to get the insurance money isn't going to make him very happy.

And then...

Oh my God, you're going to get what? Eighteen years?

Fifteen maybe.

I'm not like that!

Well, how are you then?

It was his idea!

-Whose, Mr. Turner's? -No! My husband's.

What do you mean?

He was meant to get the insurance money.

Not me... and certainly not my daughter.

He's the one who wanted it.

Oh, right...

So, he killed himself.

Yeah, that's smart. I hadn't thought of that.

And then he was resurrected

so he could get out, right?

Come on, give it up!

I can't wait anymore.

And I warn you, I didn't sleep all night.

And when I don't sleep, I'm in a bad mood!

I'm listening.

He organized the whole thing.

His death, the insurance, the disappearance of his body...

He had swindled too many people!

He was going to go abroad

with the insurance money once he was officially dead.

Stanislas and I were only his accomplices. Do you understand?

No.

Michel asked Stanislas

to find a body that resembled him

with the help of Morel, the mortician,

who was paid to make the death certificate.

The police officer, who didn't know him,

would just have to sign the burial permit,

and Michel would be officially dead.

And... he wouldn't be arrested.

Not a bad idea.

He's the one responsible for his death and him alone.

Except that!

He didn't know you were banging his buddy, Mr. Turner...

all while he was blackmailing your friend the notary.

So, this was the perfect opportunity

to get rid of him. Was Massoni in on it?

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

Get up, dead people! How are you?

It's nice to see someone in a good mood...

I just saw a movie. I got chills.

It's called The Mortician and the Widows.

In terms of a revelatory experience, it was sublime.

The casting was good, too.

But in terms of the story...

I didn't get it.

Your mistress and your notary friend had to explain it to me.

I hear you're the savior of widows and orphans.

Is that a crime?

Oh, not one. Three.

Well, if I don't count Dr. Morel.

And this is what it took to make it work.

Know what this is?

Protoxamine.

You mix it with other stuff,

put it in some coffee or I don't know what,

a few drops a day, and what happens? A heart attack.

That's a great story.

I don't understand a word, but I think it's great.

Well, let me explain.

First, there was the notary.

It was free for your friend Juliette

to get rid of her bastard husband.

But then, what I don't understand is why you killed Vitali.

Why did you do that? Because you were short on customers?

That's a great quality, imagination.

I've always envied it.

Well, I don't just have an imagination, you know.

I also have proof.

Look how beautiful it is in the light. You know what this is?

A knee prosthesis. It's titanium. Indestructible.

And it has these tiny numbers. Do you want glasses?

In fact, all medical prostheses are numbered.

So, we know that this is the medical prosthesis

from Mr. Lemaître's knee.

Ah, the little scamp!

Did you forget that he had a knee operation?

Silly, huh? It's a nice prosthesis.

Lemaître also has a nice country house

with a big boiler,

but it doesn't work very well. It's not Dr. Petiot's.

Do you know what we found in this boiler?

Prints and DNA.

His wife's, but that makes sense.

The problem is that we also found yours.

You're done.

So, let's sit down,

and you can tell me why you killed Vitali.

What am I being blamed for?

What am I being blamed for here? What have I done?

Do you know what I did? I helped women who were married to pigs.

Do you know what a pig is?

Do you know what Vitali and Lemaître were like at home?

When there was no one watching?

Do you know what goes on in these houses?

What happens to these women?

I help these women. Is there a problem with that?

I'm on their side. I'm disgusted with these guys!

Is there a problem with that?

I understand.

You're the... Abbé Pierre of domestic violence, right?

But what about Morel? Was he an accomplice?

Morel was a piece of shit. Morel... Who's Morel?

Morel tried to blackmail me after Lemaître's death.

That's why I made the body disappear.

That's when your kids gave you a hand?

They had nothing to do with it.

I understand that you want to protect them,

but you know that's not going to work.

I'm asking you to leave them alone.

That's not going to be possible, sir. You know that.

Well, I'll let you finish.

What are you... That's not a toy. You're crazy!

This isn't America. We have judges here.

He's going to cover it up.

No, he's not.

Here, my dear. A gift.

Well, then? In the end, he isn't so bad, your dad.

No? Still, four murders.

Of course, you knew that.

And you, stop with the handicapped Olympic medalist number.

Have you no shame? Get up and walk.

Come on! Well, there you go.

Of course, you were an accomplice.

Because, of course, your father couldn't do it alone.

So what happened with Morel?

You don't want to tell me? OK...

So, Dr. Morel committed suicide,

then he died, then he took his little car,

and he threw himself into a pond, right?

Hey, you need to stop with the drugs.

What?

Didn't your brother tell you about Dr. Morel?

What's your proof?

We were together. We were at home.

Oh dear... Dogs don't make rabbits, eh.

Well, you know what, my little rabbit?

Guess what we found in the doctor's car.

Your little fingerprints. Yep.

And your phone was geolocated. Do you know where?

At the very place and at the very moment

where Dr. Morel was attacked.

What a coincidence!

So, you still have nothing to say to me, Pinocchio Junior?

You didn't know, did you?

That you could kill someone just by scaring them. Right?

Yeah... And we lost the sister. That's it, she's gone.

What's up?

Are you sure you were with your brother that night?

Ariane didn't know anything about it.

Maybe not her. But you?

How could you let yourself get involved

in a story like this?

Was it to make your father happy? So he wouldn't be alone?

Oh, poor little daddy dearest.

You knew about Lemaître, you knew about the notary, and Morel...

Don't tell me.

That jerk really got to me.

I just wanted to scare him...

Then... did you panic?

Panicking isn't good for your health. When you panic,

you improvise, and criminals don't improvise.

No! My brother isn't a criminal.

You know what? Get out.

Get out of here. Go live your life!

Go write some more saucy little stories than that one...

if possible, with good dialogue.

Oh yeah, yeah, you can cry, but that's how stories go.

Give your brother a hug. You won't see him again.

Come on, give him a kiss.

Come on, OK. OK.

You can visit him.

Ah well, you're popular with the girls. That's for sure.

It won't be the same in prison. I can tell you that.

It's just the two of us.

I'll always be here.

Subtitling: Hiventy by TransPerfect