All language subtitles for Nicolas.Le.Floch.S02E01.The.Ghost.of.Rue.Royale.Part.1.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-playWEB

Come, Mademoiselle Elodie.

So much fuss
for such a little thing.

Definitely the devil's creature.

My child! Where is my child?

THE PHANTOM OF THE RUE ROYALE

That's just what I asked him for.

Here's Mr de la Briche.

You're rather sombre
for a holiday.

I assume you're worried
about something.

That a pox-ridden beauty
who gave you a dose of the clap?

Alas, no. I leave that
to more boisterous friends.

You're right: I am worried.

Mr de Sartine wished,
as is his prerogative,

for supreme control over
the Dauphin's coming-of-age feast.

But Bignon, the merchants' provost,
had been scheming.

The city police
against the king's police.

Bignon sees his chance
to sport brand new uniforms.

The king didn't want to offend
magistrates of a city that hates him.

That's why you see me worried
tonight, my friend.

- Garins!
- Major?

Get rid of this rabble, soldier.

Spare me the sight
of the hoi polloi.

Stand aside! Make way!

I am Major Langlum�.
City official. Stand aside!

I recognised you,
even in your new finery,

immoderate though it may be.

The devil with moderates!

I oversee the celebrations' order

and de Sartine's men
don't belong here.

The king's orders.

Death to the king!

To the balcony. Hurry!

Balcony.

- Ah, Mr de Ranreuil!
- Le Floch will do.

Mr Le Floch, I am relentlessly
assailed by harpies.

Each pushing to gain a better place.

I add benches: that's not enough.

Is it possible to have
an overall view of the square...

The terraces, sir!

You'd get me out of a spot.
I wouldn't know where to put you.

Accompany my friends
to the terraces by the rear stairs.

Look at them!

I hear they'll be everywhere.

Head of security
for the celebrations

is the plumed cock
who sought a quarrel,

that boor Langlum�.

Unlike you,
they are not professionals.

It's a guard made up of poor men
whose services are bought.

Ah! I think it's time.

We must cut it short.

Naganda!

Genevieve, what are you doing here?

The devil's creature!

The devil's creature!

A rocket fell on the store.

Flee! Every man for himself!

We've been locked out.

- Quickly!
- Don't panic!

There are dead.

There are dead!

Garins, what news?
Take a glass and drink with us.

His Majesty owes us that.

Garins, what of the fellow
I entrusted to your vigilance?

The little Commissioner?

Double-locked out on the terraces

of the Exterior Ministry.

There, he can enjoy the show

without getting involved.

To the king,'s death!
And that bastard de Sartine!

Bastard de Sartine!

Gentlemen...

I will not have such abuse here.

This key, madam...

is a pledge against your favours.

Has your uniform gone to your head
like a bad wine?

Did you forget, major,

that I never mix business
with pleasure?

Move back!

Have them move back!

Back!

These deaths are her fault!

- Witch!
- Possessed!

- She's the devil's creature!
- The devil's creature!

- The demon's red-head!
- Witch!

Possessed!

You say she's possessed?

This child has lost her reason

and I will not have her abused.

Carry her inside.

A fine celebration.

I came as soon as you sent for me.

I ordered that, in my absence,
my daughter remain in her room.

It's not easy to confine her,
short of bolting the door.

Did she take her potion tonight?

Did you disobey me?

The only orders I take, madam,
are those of my brother,

your husband.

My husband!

And where is my husband at present?

At the traders' banquet.

Thrown by Mr Bignon, the provost,
at the city hall,

to mark the occasion.

Like the terrible spectacle
of a battlefield

when the two sides withdraw.

Most of the dead belong

to the most modest classes.

Yes, Bourdeau!

And of course, the street
belongs to the richest.

And of course,
the rascals will be blamed.

Hear that sandy noise?

Her vertebrae have been broken.

An odd wound, if she had indeed
been crushed in the crowd.

She hasn't been crushed,
she's been strangled.

Bourdeau, set the body aside

and take it to the lower gaol
to be opened.

Bourdeau!
You must alert Sanson.

I trust only him and you
for this operation.

Semacgus, my friend,
I'll ask you to help me.

Nicolas.

Where were you fleeing to?

I wasn't fleeing.
I live in this house.

You live here?
That's a tall tale!

A lively gait, wide shoulders,

powerful torso.

Your terrible face alone
would scare off the enemy.

You'll be a famous conscript,
friend.

- Your opinion on the night?
- Unprepared and improvised.

No security measures taken
for the movement of vehicles.

And the number of victims?

Over a hundred,
but many predict twice that.

Most from the lower classes,
inflammable by nature.

Add to that
the fleeing city guards

meant to maintain public order.

The slightest incident
would turn into a disaster.

The city guards!

The city guards!

I told His Majesty
the city was in no position

to control events of this size.

11 years without a wrong step.

And here comes Bignon,

the puffed-up provost,

without reason or power,
usurping my authority,

cutting the ground
from under my feet

and laying waste to my territory!

However, sir,

your history,
the trust accorded by the king,

your duties...
- Balderdash!

Does that not speak
in your favour?

Favour is a volatile essence,

as apothecaries and chemists know.

Here are my instructions,
to be carried out to the letter.

Take all necessary
means and measures

to compile a report
on the events of last night.

You will determine the origin,
the responsibilities,

mistakes and possible interference.

Calculate the exact extent
of the tragedy.

Moreover, I want this investigation
to remain secret.

You report only to me.

And should I be impeached,
to the king in person.

The public disorder may well

have hidden a crime
that is precisely in our purview:

the body of a young woman
found lifeless

and doubtless murdered.

By Jove!

Nicolas!

You cannot be reproached
for always being 2 squares ahead.

For now, I assign you
an official carriage.

Use it as you will.
You'll find it in the yard.

Good hunting, Commissioner.

Good hunting.

We, Nicolas le Floch,
Commissioner at Ch�telet,

assisted by Inspector Bourdeau,

Charles-Henri Sanson,
Paris executioner,

and Guillaume Semacgus,
marine surgeon,

conscripted by us,

are in the presence
of a body brought in today,

presumed to have died
in the rue Royale disaster.

We can say that
the victim was dressed

in a brown velvet cape,

a light blue silk dress
with a small flowery yoke,

all effects free
of the slightest stain,

the slightest creasing or disorder.

Also, an ecru corset

with green laces.

It was tight enough

as to be impossible
to remove without cutting.

White stockings.

one pannier, two petticoats,

one of fine cotton,
the other of silk, without pockets.

Note these stretch marks.

They show she was very distended.

Note also the eloquent
swelling of her breasts.

She had just given birth

or underwent a late abortion
just before dying.

Gravis odor puerperii.

The smell leaves no doubt.
The birth was but hours ago.

All that remains is to proceed
with the review.

Then let us proceed.

Would you have a description
of the lady?

Yes.

An extremely precise description.

As with the childbirth,
the murder was evident.

She was strangled
with powerful hands

that broke her neck vertebrae.

She couldn't have died
in the crowd.

No, sir.

Look at the soles.

No mud or dirt at all.

Note down we are seizing them
as exhibits.

Sir!

A certain Charles Galaine,
who knows the victim's identity.

His niece,
who disappeared last night.

Charles Galaine.
Master furrier, rue Royale,

at the sign of Two Beavers,
merchants' guild member.

It seems my niece, Elodie Galaine,

was the victim of unrest,

caused by the fault and negligence
of your men

and their command.

Indeed, it is she.

May I take the body?

No, sir.

It is at the sole disposal
of the king's justice.

As for you, sir,

I order you to lead us forthwith
to your home

for a police operation
I do not intend to put off.

Why is your establishment
in such a state?

It bore the brunt of
your police's negligence.

The crowd tried to stone the witch.

What of this so-called witch?

There is, to my knowledge,
no witch on these premises.

Is this your entire household?

Yes, excepting my wife.

I'd like some introductions, sir.

Are we suspected of any crime?

My only son, Jean.

My sister, Charlotte Galaine.

Marie Chaffoteaux, our cook.

Why is your wife not present?

She is out, as is her habit.

- There's Naganda too.
- Naganda?

A Huron Indian
of the Algonquin tribe

sent by my brother Julien
to accompany his daughter

from our territories in New France.

In what role, sir?

As a guard, sir,

to watch over
the young lady's safety,

as if my guard were not enough.

- Where can I find this guard?
- In the attic.

A closet where the rascal
has made his quarters.

The bird has flown.

Mud-splattered and starched
by what looks like blood.

- Are these his things?
- Yes, sir.

He wore them to hide his outfit

and his hideous features.

You think he had any reason
to murder your niece?

Amorous frustration.

It was evident that my niece

wished to marry my son, Jean,
despite their being cousins.

We requested a dispensation

from the Archbishop.

From the king, Mr le Marquis.

Take great care, Inspector,

to carry out a detailed search

and seize all effects,

instruments and substances needed
to establish the truth.

Have a detailed portrait
of Naganda made,

that he may be hunted
in Paris and its suburbs.

Be quick, Bourdeau.
Time is of the essence in this case.

An invitation to appear
before His Majesty.

And in the king's hand.

Behind Mr de Sartine's back
in a way.

My obedience is to
the lieutenant-general,

but more so to the monarch,
who has total authority.

These are consequences
of last night's disaster.

No doubt.

In my old post
as Prosecutor General,

I could inquire after events
involving the government

and enlighten you.

Nothing could be more precious
than your help.

No need to pay:
I'll leave you my company coach

for any nag you may lend me.

Any nag? My word!

I sentimentally keep in my stable

a splendid bay I rarely ride

who is always impatient
to stretch his legs.

Do you never doubt,
Mr de Ranreuil?

My office forbids it, Sire.

And the other one, the Devil:
do you believe in him?

No more than necessary.

I mainly detect his mark
in men's malice.

This case is extremely important,

as it is about him.

- Who?
- The devil, sir. The devil.

The devil?

It has come to my notice

- the ways of the Lord
are unfathomable -

that the evil one haunts
a merchant family in rue Royale

where you are investigating.

The kingdom is peopled
with flies

the most obsessive of which
you do not command.

The Archbishop of Paris,
in whose grace I am not,

is upset and gesticulating.

I do not want the Church's nose,

already long enough,
in the kingdom's affairs.

Affairs of Church and kingdom

are separate and distinct.

No one shall usurp
the power I am given

from the gentleman on high.

Investigate this alleged
possession thoroughly

and report only to me.

Give me an accurate, detailed report

when you have solved the mystery.

Who wants water?

Would you care to water, sir?

Wait for me.

You'll have to show
more conviction

or people will see through our ploy.

In this area,
conviction is unreliable.

The people are angry.
Flocking together, muttering, booing.

Paris curses the police
and Mr de Sartine

for not doing their job.

At first light, the city's men
were everywhere,

saying your boss
was to blame for the tragedy.

City's men? Magistrates?

Nay! Bourgeois guards,

all gilt and gilt-edged.

Many emerged from dives
stinking of wine

bad enough to kill flies.
All drunk and tottering.

Their great lump of a boss
got them worked up and urged them on.

Find out where
they spent the night.

For the lump, I know already:

he thinks it glorious
to be in the gallant company

of your friend La Paulet,
at the sign of the Crowned Dauphin.

Oh! Commissioner!

What brings you here?

You wanted to see me
about a case that concerns me.

Leave us.

Here, sir,
instead of that to hell,

and since you deny yourself
that to heaven...

Well?

The key to the terraces
at the Exterior Ministry,

where a wicked hand banished you,
impotent, one certain night.

Momentarily, madam,
but not permanently impotent.

I don't doubt it, Commissioner.

That's why I long to hold
the proof.

It's your decision.

Unless my status
prevents you following through?

Mine is no higher than yours, madam.

And where the hand leads,
other things may follow.

Take it, sir. Take it.

Goodness! I didn't know
what a swift rascal you were.

Rather than hasten
the d�nouement,

couldn't you have surrendered
for a few moments?

I'd have feared surrendering
too much.

It wouldn't have displeased me.

Just so, but I abhor
unconditional surrender.

Someday, who knows?

I hear you're looking for
a man with a tattooed face.

Langlum� boasts of a certain trade
his men conduct.

One of my girls
heard a report being made

in the exhilaration of triumph.

They had just snared some game

that matched the description
Bourdeau gave me.

Come, sir.

You know your friend La Satin
is no longer here?

She found better elsewhere

and seems to have set up for herself

at this address.

Mesdemoiselles! Come!

Explain.

I had orders, sir.
Orders from above.

What is your trade?

Men,
for service in the king's troops.

As the needs are great,

we are obliged to provide.

A trade in men.

I imagine your commander,
Major Langlum�, gets his share.

Take me where you hold
these wretches.

The galleys of war.

Taken from their family,
softened by blows and deprivation.

These wretches will see
in the butchery of battle

hope that they are not given here.

You are in great danger.

For now, it's you
who are in danger.

To what do I owe this visit?

To a police operation

as part of an investigation

that my office empowers me
to conduct where I see fit.

- You're very foolhardy.
- Far less than you.

I have a letter authorising me
to take you to the Bastille.

The fortress
conceals in its entrails

dungeons worse than this.
Care to try them?

Do you admit
that this necklace is yours?

I do.

And are these
your personal effects?

Indeed.

You will also admit that this tooth

is identical to those
on your necklace.

I do, since it is a fact.

I must tell you
that it was found by myself

in the clenched hand
of Elodie Galaine,

whose suffocated body
was among the victims

in the crowd of revellers
last night.

I must also inform you

that you are prime suspect
of the death,

in all probability a criminal act.

I see you show
neither astonishment nor pain.

Yet I heard you were close
to the young victim.

"Seeing this, the Lord
was moved and said:

"'Do not cry. It will be given
back to you in the End Times.'"

St Luke.

Whence comes your knowledge
of the Scriptures?

I was raised by the Jesuits
in New France

at my father's behest.

The king's justice fears nothing
more than blindness.

Though you are a suspect,
you have no fewer rights.

You are placed under our protection.

And if you know or suspect anything,

you must tell us.

You may remain silent,
but think on what I say.

I must take you to a cell

where you will remain
at the disposal of justice.

Come.

One question, sir,
if you would.

What danger did you mean
when you first saw me?

I know not, sir.

Images sometimes come to me

in a kind of trance.

A kind of trance?

What do you think about witchcraft?

Witchcraft?

If by that you mean
the strange phenomena

in the Galaine house,

the natural reason lies
in the mental derangement

of young Genevieve.

Genevieve?

Genevieve Galaine,
Charles Galaine's daughter.

Did he omit to tell you
of her existence?

The hideous face of madness,
Commissioner.

- So this is your daughter?
- Yes, sir.

The poor girl is resting.

With no remedy for
an imprecise illness,

one uses expedients.

An opiate,
which, instead of curing her,

can comfort her
by bringing dreamless sleep.

Tell me what you did yesterday.

I went out and came back.

A rather brief answer.

I am investigating a case of murder.

The king's justice
can loosen the tongues,

sooner or later,
of the most recalcitrant.

No need, Commissioner.
I don't scare easily.

And I have nothing to confess.

I can feel fresh convulsions.
Send for help, father.

It may be best if you withdrew.

That isn't the little Commissioner!

Mr de Noblecourt!

I thank you, sir,
for the help you provided.

I fear I may not be able
to return it.

I know nothing of the case
that brings you here

but that...

it is a family matter
in which I have no place.

No place?

Sir, something has happened
to Mr de Noblecourt.

He got a right good kicking.

I fear he is concussed.

Could you at least tell me
he will live?

No. But under his city attire,
our friend is a rustic beast

with a good, thick hide.

The confusion came
from the carriage I lent him.

Don't go turning it over
in your head, Nicolas.

Regrets don't matter
when what's done is done.

Now it's up to nature alone.

I understand your pain.

Nevertheless, there's no use
moping here.

I know it's not the time,

but I'd like your permission
to re-examine Elodie's body.

Why?

My job has taught me that,
sometimes, flesh shows marks

later on
once maceration has set in.

We can learn a lot about life
by looking at lifeless bodies.

You don't care about
the state of my trade.

Everything concerns me,
when there's a crime.

I must inform you

that I intend to establish
my quarters in your house,

for the time needed
for my enquiries.

By what right, sir?

The right given by the king.

The king?

What the devil would the king
do in my home?

The king is at home here
and any other place in the kingdom.

And it does concern the devil.

The devil?

- How could the king know...
- The king knows everything.

He knows about the scandal
caused by Genevieve's madness.

Such disorder cannot be allowed
in the capital,

nor any source of agitation
in a people quick to flare up.

My means do not allow me
to keep you, sir.

If that's the only objection,
I'll deal with it.

Is 8 livres a day suitable?

Your servant, sir.

Take the Commissioner
to the rooms

occupied by my late brother,
whenever he came here.

Julien Galaine, Monsieur's brother,

went to seek his fortune
in New France.

- And did he find it?
- Oh yes!

Much more than he had sense.

That was the moment

that misfortune entered our house.

Misfortune? How so?

His elder son gone,
the father went into decline,

losing his taste for life.

Thus, at his death,
control of the house

fell handily into the hands
of Charles Galaine,

the younger brother.

You do not have a high opinion
of your master,

but you know everything
that goes on in this house.

Is that not the sad privilege
shared by all servants?

The late Julien Galaine,
the master's brother.

He looks hardy
with good bearing.

I am busy, sir.

Would you have a snack?

An omelette, sir.

A simple omelette,
washed down with beer.

That's all I can offer
your appetite.

"Louiseville, 5 December 1750.

"My dear brother,

"Our father's death shows me the
misfortune of being far from home

"and to be able to rely only
on the coldness of a brother

"and his constant,
unjustified hostility."

I fear your omelette
may have to wait.

One of your men wishes to see you.

To be continued...

Subtitles - Henry Moon
for TELETOTA