All language subtitles for Monsieur.Spade.S01E02.WEB.x264-TG

I don't suppose you've
heard the good news.

We're getting a bowling alley?

Philippe Saint-Andre

has apparently returned home.

I have a business
proposition for you, Spade.

- Don't be ridiculous.
- You're feeling all right?

I'm fine. Never better.

I don't know who shot Papa.

Maybe the monk?

He came right after Papa left.

He started banging on
the gate with a stick.

Terribly sad. Outside of the
antique, I barely got you

for St. Valentine's
or whatever.

Do you still possess
a working pistol?

Anyone who wants to shoot me

will have to bring
their own gun.

I have no idea what that means,

but it has the ring of your
usual moral foolishness.

Still, there's a
madman running around.

You might want to
protect yourself

with something more reliable
than just your wits.

Where's Teresa?

Teresa?

Have you seen Teresa?

No.

She could have. If
she left last night.

Or if someone came and took her.

Cheeky little
automobile, Mr. Spade.

Out to enjoy some of that
fresh country air, are we?

Something like that.

Ah, both you and the girl.

You saw her?

Yes. At dawn, I
was on my way here.

The colors at sunrise
are a painter's dream.

She was on the road?

She came past me.

Her shoes were muddy. As
if she'd been running.

And her eyes, they were
downcast. Seemingly upset.

What color were they?

I think they were...

Ah, yes. Sorry, a bit
obsessed with details.

Occupational hazard, I'm afraid.

Yeah, you said she was upset?

Yes, well, I
imagine the massacre

at the manor was the cause.

Oh, you heard about that, huh?

Everyone's heard about that.

From the girl?

No, I waved.

Tried to chat with her,
but she just ignored me.

Can't say I blame her.

Pardon?

Teresa?

You're asking the wrong guy.

In my experience, the better
souls never stand a chance.

These things will kill you.

These are the same
ones doctors smoke.

I saw on TV.

Yeah, you really seem
to be enjoying them.

Yeah, all right,
climb down before you

make yourself dizzy
and break your neck.

I'm not leaving.

Philippe's not coming.

He promised.

I'm sure he did.

Did you do this?

No. You know who did?

How could I? We're
not allowed up here.

And yet, here you are.

They're all dead.

What difference did
their useless rules make?

I'll tell you what.

You stay and wait for
your father to show up,

smoke to your lungs' content.
I'll be back at sundown.

If you're still hanging
around, you come home with me.

If not, then swell
knowing you and I hope

you and Philippe have
a nice life on the run.

Shit!

Any idea how she ended up
inside the chapel last night?

I don't play with dolls anymore.

So, no idea how
she lost her head?

I gave her away years ago.

You know this car still
smells like roses.

She'd bring treats to the
orphanage at Christmas.

Gabrielle.

Oranges from California.

Imagine that.

Sometimes she'd bring
me books or a blouse,

or some other piece of
clothing she was done with.

The books were all in French.

She said that once I
started to dream in French,

I'd be fluent.

She said the same to me.

Sadly for everyone, I
still dream in English.

Though usually French wins.

She didn't want me to hate you,

for what you did to my father.

Get down.

Stay down.

You all right?

Mr. Spade?

Nasty business.
This car's cursed.

Not the person who
shot that window,

that's for sure.

Are you saying they
missed on purpose?

The car was moving too slowly

for the gunman not
to have hit me.

And what about the second shot?

Self-defense. I was
about to run him over.

Yes, of course you were.

I'm not even sure
it was meant for me.

George: Ah! Lovely.
That's great.

That's my new neighbor.

An odd fellow.

Philippe could have
taken the shot.

With Teresa in the car?

Hard to imagine even
Philippe doing that.

And he's wounded, which
shouldn't make him too hard

to find for a pair of top
detectives like you and...

your idiot brother.

Samuel, we talked
about you using words

like "moron" and "idiot"
when speaking to my brother.

Terms of endearment.

We've checked the two
hospitals in the area.

No one with a bullet
wound has been admitted.

Same goes for
veterinarians and dentists.

Sounds like you two are
right on top of things.

Mr. Spade, can I
borrow your lawyer?

You were four years old.

Henri: I took her
to Le Canard Noir,

that old place in Rodez.

Set me back 20 francs.

I'll take care of that.

Best 20 francs I ever spent.

With that stupid
grin, I'll assume that

you and Mademoiselle Ruse
are once again exchanging...

the heat of passion.

In the General's
office. On his desk.

I hope one of you didn't
wrinkle Philippe's file.

Sergeant Saint-Andre's
file is rather short.

On several pages, names,
dates, places are blacked out.

He's army intelligence.

I'm sorry, I couldn't get more.

That's plenty.

Philippe, a spy.

I guess the war really did
deplete the supply of able men.

There was something I
heard, just a rumor.

Well, there's this
bow near the base,

where a lot of ex-Deuxième
Bureau guys hang out.

Every so often, I go
there for a drink,

and the other night, there
was some joking about

Saint-Andre hiding a young
woman in his quarters

his last time on base.

He's probably not the first.

The woman was Algerian.
No one heard her name.

Thank you, Henri.
Much appreciated.

Any time.

I must confess,
since I was a child,

you've been my hero.

Your hero?

Oui.

My advice, trade up.

Woman: You know what they say,

"Marry for money,
divorce for love."

I thought it was, "marry for
money, earn every nickel."

Which do you believe?

I'll get back to you.

You forget something,
sweetheart?

We're having a swim, aren't we?

What will the gardener think?

I'm not worried
about the gardener

leaving me for someone younger.

If I were you, I'd be more
worried about mosquito bites.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm just reminding you, there's
more to me than my money.

How could I ever forget?

Doctor: Why must the innocent
always pay for the rest of us,

for our sins?

When the Nazis paid
their little visit,

mother superior ran guns
for the underground.

- Your point?
- No one's innocent.

Still, one tries to be on
the right side of things.

If only one knew what that was.

Six dead nuns, five files.

Which one is missing?

I know these women. I examined
them every six months.

Three were from Spain,
one was from Portugal,

and the mother
superior was born here.

The last was an African.
We had not yet met.

There's no file for her.

I met that one briefly.

Can I see the bodies?

Patrice had them all bagged
for transport to Paris.

Does Patrice really want Paris

crawling up and down his town?

He does not,

but he understands that
six massacred nuns,

or dead nuns in any number,

bring much unwanted pressure.

And Paris is better equipped.

The extent of the
autopsies I can do

run from death from
fall off ladder

to death from heart attack.

Don't forget boredom.

You joke, but the
ministry was quite serious

and quite clear in
their instruction.

I was not to touch the bodies.

Of course, they said
that after I found this

around the neck of the African.

I didn't know nuns were
allowed to wear jewelry.

Real nuns, that is.

We must wait for the
replacement windows

to come from England.

How long?

Who shot you?

Technically, I was shot at.

Just a second.

I care about this car,

so whatever your feelings for
the late Jacques Laveront,

promise me you'll
take good care of her.

I'll treat the car

as I would any beautiful
woman I despise,

with respect in her presence
and lust in her absence.

Good, then we
understand each other.

I think.

Ciao, Anatole.Sam.

Just happened to be passing by?

No one has been shot or shot
at here for a long time.

Not since the war.

And that was collaborators
killing partisans

and partisans killing
collaborators,

not some crazy person
executing nuns.

There's been another war since,
in case you've forgotten.

And we both know that
one's made plenty of people

crazy and desperate.

This is not really
about people though.

This is about you.

There are six dead women
who might say otherwise.

That was yesterday.

Today someone shot at you.

But you're not worried about me.

Could Jean-Pierre
have done this?

Sure, he could
have, but he didn't.

How do you know?

He's all talk. But murder, no.

Jean-Pierre would disagree.

So would every man
who went to war.

That's why they
give them medals,

with snappy uniforms
to pin them on.

That way, whenever
they look in a mirror,

they see a soldier.

And what about the man
who burns his uniform

and sells his medals?

What does he see?

You may think you
understand him,

but you make him feel small.

You make most men feel small.

That's because
they don't know me.

Then, I've never much cared
what other men thought of me.

Not caring doesn't
make one bulletproof.

You should needle point
that one on a pillow.

Sometimes, Sam...

Spade, I'd like you
to meet my mother.

Lady Cynthia, Sam Spade.

How do you do, Mr. Spade?

I've been better.

I'm so sorry for invading
your devastatingly attractive

home without being asked,
but George said he...

he didn't think you'd mind.

I don't. Nice to meet you.

Oh, Mr. Spade.

Um, please feel free to say no,

but may I ask you
an enormous favor?

Sure, you can ask.

I've never seen the landscape

my husband painted
for your late wife.

Um, would you mind, terribly,

if I came inside with
you and took a peek?

May I come, too?

I... I haven't laid
eyes on that painting

since the day of the unveiling.

More the merrier.

Ah. Ah.

George and I have rented
the villa next door.

Uh, we're neighbors.

Though, of course, it's hardly
as scrumptious as all this.

Gabrielle's family got
the house on the cheap.

The previous owner
died suddenly.

- Oh.
- He was guillotined.

In fact, he got his
head chopped off

right after Marie Antoinette.

Oh, dear.

Mother, he's pulling your leg.

Oh, capital.

Oh, you'll find I'm extremely
gullible, Mr. Spade.

Somehow, I doubt that.

Oh, thank you.

George, look at this
marvelous place.

Oh, they don't make them
like this anymore, do they?

Ooh, oh, oh.

It's just wonderful!

Yes, Mother, notice
the shadowing.

- Ah.
- Ah.

Singeon's sense of
color was always divine.

And look, George,
look how he's captured

the... the delicate flesh tones
of this lovely, naked lady.

Well, I'll leave you two
to show yourselves out.

Yes, thank you so much.

Awfully kind of you.

Oh, one more thing.

I believe we have
a mutual friend,

Philippe Saint-Andre.

I wouldn't say that
Philippe and I are friends,

more like, a long time ago,
we bumped into each other.

Oh, oh, I... I... I... I see.

Well, I... I hear he's
returned to Bazuel.

I would love to say hello.

I'm afraid I can't help you.

I've no idea where he is.

Mm, pity.

How do you know Philippe?

Well, uh, years ago,

he purchased one of my
husband's masterpieces.

- Really?
- Mm.

He paid a generous
sum for it, too.

Are you sure we're talking about

the same Philippe Saint-Andre?

The Philippe I know isn't one
to part with a generous sum,

or any kind of sum,

for anything that he
could just as easily take.

No.

Well, this morning, I had
to get a ride from Basem

to buy two new tires.

You had to slash the spare, too?

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

You sound like your mother.

That was her favorite
answer to every question.

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

It was like a tick.

And that's what you get

for saying such things
about my mother.

Are you all right?

Are you sick?

Couldn't be better.

Just tell me where
you saw this glint.

Yeah, no one's gonna
take a shot from there.

What's that? Is that a clue?

Right now, it's just an
empty pack of cigarettes.

Well, they haven't
been here very long.

Really?

Yeah, it was windy last night,

so if the pack was here before,

it would've been
covered in leaves.

Interesting theory.

Okay, tell me what
you saw in the chapel.

I'm really hungry.

Teresa.

Helena said she's
making me ravioli.

What did you see in the chapel?

I told you.

That monk fellow hit
the mother superior

and then we all ran away.

Yeah, you said that before,
and you were very convincing,

but someone locked the
kids in the closet,

and this morning, someone
took a shot at you.

At me?

To scare you, to keep
you from talking,

which means you either saw
something you shouldn't have

seen or you know something
you shouldn't know.

Why did Philippe
come running to you?

I'm his daughter.

You're his daughter, yet
he didn't feel the need

to fill you in on
who shot him and why?

He was protecting me from
knowing things I shouldn't.

Protecting you how?

By then, just leaving you alone?

My father didn't come to see me.

He was there to
meet someone else,

one of the sisters.

Which one?

The new one, soeur Angelique.

Then his plans changed
when he got shot.

Yeah, that's them.

"Them"? What, the
kid was with her?

No, he came a month
later with Papa.

So, Philippe shows up
wounded, with a kid,

and tells you what?

To hide the boy

while he found a place to
stay and got patched up.

He said he'd come
back for us in a day.

He leaves the kid
with you, takes off,

and the monk comes knocking.

I was hiding Zahid in the tower

when I heard the kids screaming.

They were running
from the chapel.

They said a priest
hit... mother superior.

So, you didn't actually
see him hit her

like you've been saying?

No.

Then what? You locked
the kids in the closet?

To keep them safe.

Shh, shh!

I ran back to my room.

And heard the first gunshot.

The monk was shouting.

He was telling soeur Angelique
that she had to watch

while he asked each of
them where the boy was.

And when they wouldn't say...

he shot them...

one by one.

I tried to close my eyes,
but I couldn't look away.

And then...

Then what?

He saw me.

So, you told him
where the boy was?

No.

You weren't afraid?

I had my knife.

Well, sadly, I lost it.

In the chapel?

In the monk.

I ran to the bell tower,
but the boy was gone.

Who is this kid

that someone would kill
six people to find him?

I don't know.

But right before
he killed her...

Soeur Angelique said something.

The Mahdi?

What the hell has your
father gotten you into?

We got a meeting with the
bishop. Want to come along?

As long as no one
asks me to confess.

Mr. Spade, do you have any specific
information you want to share?

I just did.

I need to find Philippe.

If I want you dead,
I just have to wait.

You want to have a
real conversation,

knock on my door.