Original subtitles

-Where were you? -We struggled getting the merchandise.

Come on, hustle up.

-Careful, it's fragile. -600. 600 euros, thank you.

It's a splendid Gallé vase.

1,200. 1,500. 1,500 euros. 1,500 euros going once.

Should I sell for 1,500 euros?

1,500 euros going once. 1,500 euros going twice.

Sold for 1,500 euros.

Good. Let's move on to the centerpiece of our sale.

Lot 47.

-It weighs a ton. -Shut up and push.

An art nouveau wardrobe signed by Master Eugène Vallin.

Custom-made in 1902 for the Prince of Denmark.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the starting price for this exceptional piece is 50,000 euros. You may bid.

60,000. 70,000.

Bunch of slobs. Unbelievable.

70,000 euros going twice. 80,000 on my left. Thank you.

80,000. 90,000 for the gentleman in the front. Thank you.

90,000 euros. 90,000.

100,000 euros over the phone.

Anyone in the room? 100,000 euros. 100,000 euros going once.

No one? 100,000 euros going twice. Sold for 100,000 euros.

Paul. Paul, what are you doing?

Shit, the press is here already. Mehdi, don't let them in.

Fanny, come with me. I was just looking for you.

Can you get me the coroner's report? The prosecutor asked for it right away.

Yes, sir.

-Captain? -Yes?

I just spent 5,000 euros on a Daum crystal vase.

-And? -I'm not leaving without it.

Your vase isn't going anywhere. Now move along.

You won't believe the mess. Here, I got you coffee.

-No sugar? -Of course.

-The way you like. -Thanks.

Let's go see the victim.

Wait. Tell me about her first.

-It's not a pretty sight. -That bad?

It's a corpse.

No, stupid. I was talking about our new recruit, Chloé.

How is she? Pretty? Friendly?

Shit, I knew I was forgetting something. I left in a rush because of the murder.

Way to go. Is that how you welcome my son's girlfriend?

I'll go get her.

Wait, wait, wait. Don't bother. She's already here.

Excuse me, I'm looking for Captain Weber.

Captain Weber.

-Lieutenant Chloé Guérin. -Nice to meet you.

Call me Laurence. No need for formalities.

You sure? I don't want any special treatment.

It's not. It's the same for everyone.

This is Captain Bernier. My oldest deputy.

I'm not sure how to take this.

-Hi. Sorry. -Sorry.

-Captain. -Nice to meet you.

-Well? Shall we? -Yes.

-Here you go. -Thanks.

Carole Marconi, 38 years old, antique restorer.

Apparently, she regularly worked for the auction house.

-Hey, Doc. -Hi, Laurence. Hi, everyone.

Write it down. Size of the wound is 3.4 centimeters.

And the time of death?

Based on rigor mortis, I'd say between midnight and two a.m.

-What kind of weapon was used? -Some sort of knife.

I'll be able to tell the length of the blade during the autopsy.

The killer aimed for her heart. She died instantly. Snap.

There's more. She was tied up before being stabbed.

Look at these ligature marks on her ankles and wrists.

He used some sort of zip ties.

You okay, Chloé?

-What does guenoche mean? -No idea.

Guenoche means "witch."

It was used during the Renaissance.

In fact, many women were persecuted in the area and accused of witchcraft.

They wore similar tunics before being executed.

-And can we talk to someone in charge? -Yes. Right there.

Don't worry, your Highness.

The wardrobe will be delivered to your yacht as expected,

as soon as the police returns it to us. Yes. Thank you.

The police is here.

Sorry. I don't know which way to turn.

No problem. Olivia Salem, the sale's auctioneer. Captain Weber.

Lieutenant Guérin.

-Can we ask you a few questions? -Yes, of course.

Carole Marconi was your restorer, correct?

Do you know if she had any problems or enemies?

Carole was nothing more than a collaborator. We weren't close.

I entrusted her with works of art for her to restore.

-She did remarkable work, by the way. -Yes. I'm sure.

Did she restore the wardrobe in which she was found?

Yes. It was a rush job.

Yesterday, I noticed some mold on one of the panels.

Carole agreed to work all night to have it ready for the sale.

I see.

-Who delivered it? -Movers.

-Paul, who delivered the wardrobe? -Monnard Transport.

Monnard Transport. Can we talk to them?

They left, but I can give you their contact info.

Yes, please.

Was there a lot of publicity around the sale of this wardrobe?

Yes, it's a rare piece.

Do you have any financial problems or competitors who resent you?

No. Not that I know of. Where are you going with this?

Most killers don't get rid of the body by stuffing it inside a wardrobe

intended to be sold at an auction. Don't you think?

You think the auction house was somehow targeted?

Or some of your employees.

I don't see any reason why.

There was a sign on the body with the word guenoche written on it.

-Does that sound familiar? -Yes.

It refers to a very dark time of our ancient history.

Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't think we have witches working here.

-Mehdi. -Yes?

Find the movers. We're off to the victim's house.

You got it.

-Hi. Chloé. -Mehdi. Lieutenant.

Send me your report.

-Nice bike. -I know. It's mine.

He spends all his time dolling it up.

I'm just taking care of it, nothing more.

Wait up. Marconi's address. It could be useful.

Thanks.

-It's all the way across town. -Perfect. It'll give us time to chat.

I don't know about you, but Antoine doesn't tell me anything.

Same here.

My son has a heart of gold, but he's quiet as a mouse.

How long have you two been dating?

-Six months? -Almost.

-Are you from Nancy? -Yes, I was born and bred here.

I grew up in the Haut-du-Lièvre projects.

Oh, yeah. Do you still live there?

No, I moved when my parents died.

I was 18. They died in a car crash.

Oh, wow.

I was completely lost.

I understand. It must've been hard.

And what made you decide to become a cop?

My uncle was an officer.

-And you? -Oh, me? It was complicated.

I come from a snobbish, tea-sipping family.

"But why, Laurence? You want to join the police? How vulgar!"

-I'm telling you. -That's crazy.

You're not at all how I pictured.

No one's there. It's locked.

-What's that? -Her studio, I guess.

-Is it open? -I don't know, I didn't check.

It's open, apparently.

Police! Don't move!

I said, don't move! We told you not to move.

Shit! Goddammit.

Stop!

Police! Stop! Stop!

-Stop! -Wait! Chloé!

-Shit, I can't get a shot. -Don't shoot!

Stop! Police! Stop!

Bernier, up there.

Stop!

Shit. Damn it.

-He got away? -He had a scooter. No plates.

She almost caught him. Were you raised by ninjas or what?

-I used to do parkour when I was young. -What?

Parkour. It's an athletic discipline used to navigate through obstacles.

The anti-crime brigade had caught kids doing parkour to break into houses.

Does that sound familiar?

There was a surveillance camera where the scooter was parked.

-We might get a visual. -She's good?

Come, I wanna show you something.

This is where Carole Marconi was killed.

The killer must've caught her while she was working.

I'll call Forensics.

This is Captain Bernier, I need a forensic team at 47 Anjou Street.

Immediately.

Only a psycho would do such a thing.

Maybe he knew her.

He saw her as a witch.

I found the house keys.

Check this out.

A kid's breakfast.

Captain! Captain! The victim has a daughter.

She probably got up and went to school without knowing her mother was dead.

That's horrible.

-Find the girl. We have to question her. -Okay.

-Do you see any men's stuff? -Not really, no.

Julie Ferrant. Okay.

-Forensics are here. -I'll tell the Captain.

The girl's at school. Should I send a car?

Yes, and find out about her dad.

Okay. Great. Thanks.

They're sending a link to the surveillance footage.

Perfect. Thanks.

Are you enjoying your new office with a view of the copy machine?

Luxurious?

I couldn't care less about that, but everybody's really nice.

Thanks, bye. Captain?

The movers are innocent. They were at a bar at the time of the murder.

-The owner confirmed. -Okay.

What do we know about the father?

Well, his name's Pascal Ferrant. He's a former professional boxer.

He's been living between France and Canada lately.

Apparently, he and Carole Marconi were divorced last year.

Their daughter, Julie, lives with her mother.

She also has a sister, Eve Marconi.

I know her. She's the curator at Villa Majorelle.

-The art nouveau museum. -Yes. Thank you, Bernier.

I'm not as cultivated as you, but I know a thing or two.

No, I was talking to Chloé.

Okay. Thanks. But don't worry, I know it, too.

-I like her more and more. -Yeah, right. Way to save yourself.

Try and locate the boxer instead.

We'll pay a visit to her sister.

I'm telling you, men are unbelievable.

-She got you there. -What?

Louis Majorelle surrounded himself

with many artists.

-When did it happen? -Last night.

-Can I see her? -We'll make arrangements.

My brother-in-law, Pascal. He's the one who killed her.

-What makes you say that? -He threatened to kill her.

Carole got full custody of their daughter, Julie.

Pascal couldn't accept it.

He tried to take her to Canada.

Carole… Oh, God.

Carole…

How was she killed?

How can I put this? It's somewhat unusual.

Her murder refers to medieval witch hunts.

Is your brother-in-law, well, versed in History?

Arrest Pascal.

I'm sure he did it.

Yes, Bernier. What?

Call airport security in case he tries to flee to Canada.

Ferrant just kidnapped his daughter. He picked her up at school.

That's one hell of a first day for you.

Who is it?

The prosecutor. She wants us to brief her.

Is that a bad thing?

Well, let's just say you won't find the team as nice anymore.

Good.

We sent out a BOLO on Ferrant.

The first roadblocks are in place and the airport is on alert.

Hurry up and find this wife-killer or the public will be outraged.

We still don't know anything for sure, ma'am.

We have a motive. He wants his daughter back.

Now that he's kidnapped her, everything points to premeditation.

What more do you need?

I'm wondering about the nature of the crime.

The white tunic, the guenoche sign, the public display of the body…

For an angry ex-husband, it seems quite elaborate.

You of all people should know that the level of complexity of a crime

has nothing to do with the killer's personality.

To say it plainly, I don't believe in profiling.

He simply covered his tracks.

Maybe, but it still doesn't add up.

And what do you make of the intruder at the studio?

-What's your name again? -Chloé Guérin.

Take notice, Miss Guérin. You should listen when your superiors are talking.

Find Ferrant, Captain.

For now, he's our only serious lead.

Very well. Ma'am.

What a bitch.

-And she was in a good mood. -Really?

She's naturally unpleasant.

Don't worry, this is only the beginning.

This slumlord will pay for what he did to you. We'll appeal, if need be.

Oh, there he is. My son.

-You're our guardian angel. Thank you. -My pleasure.

Bye.

-Thank you. -Bye, sir.

I may be biased, but he's the most handsome there is.

-You're lucky. I'm telling you. -I know.

Seems like you're getting along.

Don't be jealous. You can have her back.

Unless you wanna go out and celebrate.

I know a great place. You're gonna love it.

Yes. Yes, please. I feel like partying.

You're in for trouble.

Wait, we're missing someone.

Or it won't be as fun. I don't wanna be the third wheel.

Tu es pour moi la seule musique Qui fit danser les étoiles sur les dunes

Caramels, bonbons et chocolats

Si tu n'existais pas déjà, je t'inventerais

Merci, pas pour moi, mais tu peux bien les offrir à une autre

Qui aime les étoiles sur les dunes

Moi, les mots tendres enrobés de douceur

Se posent sur ma bouche, mais jamais sur mon cœur

Encore un mot, juste une parole

-Paroles, paroles, paroles -Écoute-moi

-Paroles, paroles, paroles -Je t'en prie

-Paroles, paroles, paroles -Je te jure

Paroles, paroles, paroles, paroles

Paroles et encore des paroles que tu sèmes au vent

Thank you. Thanks to all the Dalida fans.

A Bellatrix Ball, please.

Same for me, but no love potion. What?

So, how about a toast?

-Sure. A toast. To what? -To love, what else?

-You still know what it is? -Come on.

I had a great time.

-You're great. -No, you're great.

The door.

Why are you laughing?

I was thinking about your mom and Bernier.

You're thinking about my mom and Bernier right now?

Yes, I mean… Don't you think they look like an old couple?

Yeah, you're right.

Ever since my father died, Bernier has been there for my mom.

I think he likes her.

-Really? -Yeah.

What about her?

I think she sees him as a good friend.

That's too bad. They'd make such a cute couple.

"They'd make such a cute couple."

Sorry. Shit, it's work. I'm so sorry.

-I'll be right back. -"Work…"

What do we have here?

Mickaël…

WHERE ARE YOU? WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING?

-Oh, Chloé. -Hi.

So? The footage from the chase?

There was nothing that could help identify the intruder.

-Laurence? -Yeah?

The lab just called. The killer didn't leave anything at the crime scene.

No prints or hair. Hi, Chloé.

So no usable DNA.

-No. -Thanks.

I'm not done yet.

I think I know what our guy was looking for at Carole Marconi's place.

Here's what Forensics found on site. Look.

-Okay. And what is it? -Sketches of a mirror.

But not just any mirror. An imitation of Émile Gallé.

-Who? -Émile Gallé.

The art nouveau pioneer.

He founded the Nancy School in 1901.

-Don't look at me like that. -All right, fine.

What are you trying to say? Carole Marconi was a forger?

Exactly. I did some research.

And this is what she fenced three days ago at an auction sale.

There you go.

-You're sure it's a forgery? -Positive.

I sent an expert to the buyer's house. Needless to say he's upset.

-How much did he spend? -22,000 euros.

He didn't kill Marconi, though. He's got a solid alibi.

He may not be the only one she scammed.

-Who sold this mirror for her? -Good question. I don't know.

Olivia Salem.

Mrs. Salem?

Captain.

When will I get the wardrobe back? My client's growing impatient.

Tell him we're making sure he didn't buy a forgery.

-Does this mirror look familiar to you? -Yes, of course. It's a Gallé.

I sold it last week on behalf of Carole Marconi.

Didn't you notice anything unusual while authenticating it?

-Excuse me, but I'm at a loss. -This mirror's a fake, Mrs. Salem.

An imitation made from scratch by your restorer.

Really? That's crazy.

What's crazier is that you didn't know.

A collector, maybe. But an expert such as yourself…

I admit I might've rushed things because I trusted Carole.

Sorry, but now I'm the one at a loss.

You told us you weren't close,

yet you blindly trusted her with a piece worth over 20,000 euros.

What are you insinuating?

Did you often sell things on behalf of your restorer?

No. That was the only time.

I don't know what you think, but I'm not involved in this.

I'd still like to do a background check on everything you've sold

since you've been here.

Paul. Go get our certificates of authenticity, please.

You'll see that this fraud was an isolated incident.

Very well. But don't leave town, in case we need another authentication.

We have to verify the authenticity of all these items.

And question Carole's sister again.

-Can you do it? -Yeah.

IF YOU WANNA SEE ME, YOU KNOW WHERE I LIVE.

Wait, Bernier.

Let me handle it. I did an internship at the Customs Office.

-You interned at the Customs Office? -Yes. I did.

You thought I could only climb walls? Men, I tell you.

No, that's not what I meant. She's making me sound like a chauvinist.

Am I a chauvinist? Am I?

I disagree.

Mika!

Mika!

Mika?

Jesus, you're such a jerk. You scared me.

-Did you miss me? -Stop that.

What? It's been a while.

We're not together anymore and you know it.

-Okay. Then why are you here? -I know you were in that studio.

-What studio? -Don't lie to me, Mika.

Why did you want these drawings? Are you into forgery now?

You're getting on my nerves.

Shit, Mika. Can't you see I'm trying to save your ass?

The killer's most likely motivated by revenge.

So what is it gonna be? You wanna end up like Carole Marconi?

Oh, stop it. I'm so scared.

Look, if the killer doesn't catch you first, my colleagues will.

You're on probation. You know what that means?

Don't do anything stupid. Tell me what's going on.

You wanna save my ass?

Make sure your cop friends forget about me, okay? You owe me this much.

Mrs. Marconi?

-Have you found my niece? -We're still looking.

We need to talk.

We have a new lead regarding your sister's death.

Have you ever seen this mirror?

-No. Never. -Really?

I just told you I've never seen it before.

How is it related to her murder?

We believe your sister was a forger.

Carole wasn't a crook. You're wrong.

Then why would she make this imitation and sell it at an auction?

I have no idea.

Are you sure, Mrs. Marconi?

I don't know anything about this.

Now please excuse me… I have a lot to do.

Yes, Mehdi? What's going on?

Really? Okay, we'll meet you there.

Ferrant was seen at a hotel.

-Where? -Near the airport.

Mehdi's sending us the address.

Please leave a message after the beep.

Hi, it's Eve. Call me back urgently. I need to see you.

Police, open up!

Clear. Where's your dad?

Hey, I asked you a question. Answer me.

Wait. Let me handle it.

Get out. Come on.

You heard the boss. Everybody out.

I said, go. You, too. Move.

Finally some peace and quiet.

What are you listening to?

Angèle? Oh, I love her. I swear.

I went to her show at Zénith. Were you there?

-With my mom. -I'm sorry.

I can imagine how you're feeling.

The person who did this is a monster.

We'll find him. I promise.

I heard what they said about my dad on TV.

He didn't do it. He would never hurt my mother.

-Where is he? -I don't know.

You're trying to protect him, that's natural.

I get it. I'd do the same, if I were you.

But it's too bad, because he could help me understand what happened.

Julie. Julie.

We won't hurt him. I promise. I just wanna talk to him.

I was sick of eating chips. He went to get some pizza.

Thanks.

Why are you cuffing me? I didn't kill my wife!

Will you calm down?

-Seriously. I didn't do anything! -Come on.

Laurence?

I went through everything. Olivia Salem's telling the truth.

The mirror's the only forgery she sold.

Carole Marconi could've moved her goods through other distributors.

Come on.

So, Mr. Ferrant.

Where were you two nights ago between midnight and two a.m.?

At home.

-Can someone confirm it? -No, I was alone.

But I didn't hurt Carole, I swear.

Why did you try to flee with your daughter if you're innocent?

What would you have done in my place? Shit, I'm the perfect scapegoat.

If I go to jail, who will take care of Julie?

This is crazy, no one wants to listen to me.

You did threaten to kill your ex-wife.

That's bullshit. I was angry because she got full custody.

We were at war, but she was my daughter's mother.

I swear I didn't do it.

-Yeah. Did you know Carole was a forger? -What?

She made this imitation and sold it for over 20,000 euros.

Bullshit.

Carole would've never done anything illegal.

Really? Are you sure about that?

I tried to fix a bet one day.

She went on about it for months.

Okay. Then why did she do it if she was so honest?

She was your wife, right? Think about it.

After the divorce, we stopped talking.

Does her sister, Eve, have any problems? Could she get her mixed up in something?

She never talked to me. She hates me.

This is a waste of time.

Very well. That'll be all.

What will happen to me?

-I have to put you in custody. -I didn't do anything!

You have a motive and no alibi.

What about Julie?

Her aunt will take her in.

Shit, don't do this. She'll turn her against me.

Wait, wait. Call Émilie Croze, she's her babysitter.

She's known Julie since she was born. I'm sure she'll take her in.

-What's wrong? Wanna talk about it? -No, I'm fine.

That's what investigating's all about. 99 percent hassle, 1 percent results.

Meanwhile, the psycho who killed Carole Marconi is still on the run.

Yeah, I know.

You need to learn to relax, Chloé. I mean, it.

You know what? Go home, calm down.

-I want you in top shape tomorrow. -But…

No. This isn't a piece of advice. It's an order.

Okay.

Oh, by the way, can you send the video of the fugitive to the lab?

In case you missed something.

I swear, I was really thorough.

Do it anyway. You never know.

I'm sorry, Julie.

I know I promised, but we have to retain your father.

What is that? Metal?

It's the murder weapon. Or a micro-fragment, I should say.

It was stuck in the victim's sternum.

In my opinion,

the tip of the blade broke off when the knife pierced the bones.

I had the metal dated. It's from the 16th century.

-What's that? A stamp? -I'm not sure.

Looks like winged snakes or a dragon with the city's crest.

Let me see.

It's a coat of arms.

This weapon belonged to one of the town's noble families.

That's great.

-We just need to find out which one. -Yeah.

Any idea where I could find?

At the Stanislas library. They have a whole section on heraldry.

It's the study of armory.

-Yeah, I knew that. -I knew you knew.

Don't worry. I'll go with you.

-Good, I'm glad. -Yes.

Yeah.

-Bye, Doc. -Bye.

She's touchy.

-You okay? -More than okay.

Was I going too fast?

No, not at all. We should do this more often.

You can count on me. I'm your man.

Are you getting off or are you stuck to me?

Fine.

Let me help you.

What are you doing?

I don't know. I guess I thought that…

-Well, no. I mean, no. -No.

Of course. I'd better go.

IMAGE MODIFICATION IN PROGRESS

Hey, love.

-Oh, it's you. -Yes, it's me.

We hadn't planned anything.

No, that's why it's called a surprise.

I brought dinner and I even got candles.

That's sweet, but I'm not feeling well.

Are you sick? Should I call a doctor?

No, don't worry. I just have some work to do and…

I'm intruding?

I am. I should go. Do you want me to leave you some?

No, thanks. I'm not really hungry.

I'd better go.

Antoine, wait.

-I'll call you, okay? -Yeah, sure.

Hey, Mom. Where are you? Can I drop by?

Did you come to help me with my investigation? Not really, no.

Who's he?

Nicolas Remy, the most prolific woman-killer in history.

Strange, I've never heard of him. He's not exactly a local hero.

He started off as a low-ranking magistrate in Nancy.

But he was ennobled in 1583. You know why?

No.

For executing hundreds of women wrongfully accused of witchcraft.

-Hundreds? -Yeah.

That's horrible.

-You see how useful a good lawyer can be? -Yeah.

What's on your mind?

It's Chloé. I stopped by her place, I wanted to surprise her.

I felt like I was bothering her. I don't know what I did wrong.

You did nothing wrong. It's the job.

I was the same on my first investigation.

It was all I could think about from morning to night.

We become irritable, impatient.

But everything will be fine. Just give her time. You'll see.

Everything will go back to normal. Don't worry.

Wanna have dinner with me, then?

What a great idea.

Careful. Careful. It's very fragile.

Tell me, how long has it been since you had a romantic dinner?

That's none of your business.

-Sure, it is. -No.

-Yes. -No, I'm your mother.

-Champagne. -Yeah, that's great.

There's no doubt about it.

The same weapon was used for both crimes.

Shit.

I should've asked the prosecutor to put her under protective detail.

Speaking of the devil…

Mrs. Prosecutor.

Is that the work of the same killer?

Any fingerprints?

Once again, the perpetrator was very careful.

At least, Pascal Ferrant is exonerated.

We'll release him from custody.

It's good to release an innocent man, but it'd be better to find the culprit.

Unless you're not up to the job, Captain.

In which case, I'd be delighted to replace you.

Have you found the weapon?

For the time being, I can't disclose anything.

-She's the witch. -Yeah.

I found the dagger's owner. It belonged to Nicolas Remy.

Apparently, the Duke of Lorraine gave it to him.

I knew I'd seen this crest before. Nicolas Remy.

He was responsible for the biggest witch hunt in Europe. He even wrote a book.

Yes, but he didn't leave much else behind. I checked.

His line died out during the Revolution.

Shit. We won't find anything on his descendants.

I'm wondering if we're not dealing with a fan.

I read a few sections of his book. It could've inspired our killer.

Some freak who imitates his work and collects his relics?

You know what? I'll check out the antique shops.

Yeah. Take Mehdi and Chloé with you.

Let's stop this madman before he kills again.

By the way… I wanted to talk to you about yesterday.

Yeah.

-I… -Yes?

I'm really sorry.

I don't know what got into me. It was foolish of me.

Please forgive me. Friends?

-Yes. -Yes. Okay.

-Ow. -Have a seat.

Mr. Ferrant, you're free to go.

About time. What about my daughter?

I called the family court judge.

Since you're her only living kin, he agreed to grant you custody.

Thank you.

But you should expect a fine and a suspended sentence.

Pull yourself together. Your daughter lost her mother and her aunt.

She needs to be reassured, not stressed.

So you should put an end to your fits of anger and rantings.

Thank you.

-We have a problem. -What is it?

I just talked to the lab.

Chloé tampered with the video before sending it.

What?

Remember the chase footage from Marconi's?

She erased something that would allow identifying the fugitive.

Check it out. The guys were able to retrieve the original.

-You wanted to see me? -Yes. Come in.

Have a seat.

It's about the video.

Don't you have anything to say?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes. Why?

Don't take me for a fool, Chloé.

We know you tampered with it.

Same as your internship. I checked.

You were never at the Customs Office.

Why do you keep lying?

Say something, Chloé. Talk to me.

Do you know this fugitive?

His name's Mickaël. He's my ex.

-Is that why you're protecting him? -No.

He did the same for me.

You know those burglars doing parkour you'd mentioned?

I was one of them.

When my parents died, I lost everything. I had no money, no roof over my head.

I didn't know where to go, so I took refuge in a squat.

That's where I met Mickaël.

He introduced me to parkour.

We started to hit the posh neighborhoods.

But one day, we got caught.

I managed to escape, but he didn't.

He was sentenced to six months in jail. He never mentioned my name.

That's when I realized I had to get my act together.

Well, you really screwed up.

I'm sorry.

Where can we find this Mickaël of yours?

He's squatting in the old Pharmacy Faculty.

Thanks for the tip.

But you leave me no choice. I have to report you to Internal Affairs.

In the meantime, hand me your badge.

Don't look at me like that. What would you do?

Come on. Hand it over.

One thing, though. Please let me assist you with his arrest.

-No, sorry. No, can't do. -He'll resist.

Stop it, Chloé! Don't make it harder than it already is.

You can go now.

This is the left wing of the former Pharmacy Faculty.

Try and be discreet. He knows the place like the back of his hand.

And…

His squat is located here, on the first floor.

We'll spread out as soon as we enter and cover all the exits.

Agreed?

Don't move. Drop your weapon. Don't move! Don't move.

Drop your weapon, goddammit! Come on, drop it!

Don't do anything stupid. You're outnumbered.

Don't move. Don't move.

Come on, that way!

Priority: Armed individual fleeing towards the north wing.

Stop it! Stop right now!

Mehdi, don't do it. Don't shoot.

-Go away. -Mickaël, calm down.

-Don't do anything stupid. Drop it. -We saw you at Carole's.

We just wanna talk to you, okay?

Don't come any closer.

I just wanna know why you were there.

I'm not kidding.

Mickaël! Mika, don't do it! Stop. No!

Let her through.

Stop. You're scaring me.

-It's your fault. You ratted me out. -I did all I could to protect you.

I violated my parole. You know what that means? Two years minimum.

It'll go by fast.

What will I do when I get out? I have no training, no job.

You can start your parkour club. It's your dream, isn't it?

-I need money for that. I have a job. -I'll help you get a loan.

I owe you this much.

Why would you do that? Didn't you say it was over between us?

Even so, I won't let you down.

-Suspect apprehended. We're moving out. -Copy that.

Are you sure you wanna call Internal Affairs? She'll most likely get fired.

I know.

-She did a great job. -She always does.

At her age, I would've done the same for you.

-Me, too. Without hesitation. -Really?

-Let's give her a chance. -Let's give her a chance.

Well, I should go.

Anyway, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

And that I loved working with you.

Good, because so did we.

We've decided that you deserve a second chance.

-Really? -But careful, Chloé.

-If you mess up again… -I promise it won't happen again.

Thank you.

No, I swear. I don't know who killed them.

Someone paid me to steal the mirror sketches at Marconi's.

Who hired you?

A woman. Her name's Olivia Salem.

Olivia Salem again.

She knew about the fake mirror. She's been stringing us along.

OLIVIA SALEM AUCTIONEER

Mrs. Salem?

-I told you, it's lunch time. -No, wait.

There's someone inside.

Move. Shit.

Wait, Bernier.

Sorry. Excuse me. I don't mean to offend you, but…

Mrs. Salem.

Captain Bernier, Nancy Crime Squad.

Life emergency at the auction house. Send help right away.

Shit. Yeah, run, you scumbag.

I was at the hospital. The doctors put Olivia Salem in an induced coma.

She was our only chance to identify the killer.

Any lead on Nicolas Remy's knife?

Nothing. I asked all the local antique dealers. No one's ever seen it.

Same goes for museum curators.

It probably comes from a private collection.

The prosecutor might be right after all.

Are you out of your mind? Over my dead body. So…

Carole Marconi, Eve Marconi, Olivia Salem.

All three victims were financially sound and had no previous criminal record.

Why would they sell a forged mirror and above all,

why keep it a secret even though their lives were in danger?

Something's wrong.

We need to find out how they're connected.

I just got Eve Marconi's phone records. There's something weird.

After her sister's death, she called Olivia and Émilie Croze several times.

Émilie Croze?

What does Julie's babysitter have to do with this?

-Hey! -No!

Mom, he's bugging me!

Give it to me. I just wanna borrow it!

No, Mom gave it to me for my birthday.

-What's wrong? -He ripped it.

No, I… I'm confiscating the dinosaur.

Stop crying. Finish packing. Go on, finish packing.

I don't even know what to bring.

It's all your fault.

Why would you do that? It's your fault.

Police!

Hello, Mrs. Croze. Can we talk to you for a minute?

Yes. What's this about?

We need to ask you a few questions

about the many phone calls you got from Eve Marconi these past few days.

Well, Eve is Julie's aunt.

I'm close to Julie and she was worried about her disappearance.

-I don't know. -But why?

I mean, you didn't know where her father had taken her.

No, but I've been taking care of Julie since she was a baby.

So we're close.

I guess she thought… Julie might've called me, I guess.

Mom, he's bugging me!

Sorry, these are my kids.

Sorry, I wish I could've been more helpful, but…

-Mom. -Mom, we finished packing.

-Go back to your room. -He totally ripped it.

Stop crying. Go to your room.

Now's not the time. Go to your room. Come on.

Stop running around. That's enough. Now's not the time.

Boys will be boys.

I heard them talk about packing. Are you going somewhere?

We're moving down south. I have family there.

It looks like you still have a lot to do.

Yes, I… I'm taking my children first.

I see.

Is your husband home?

Can we talk to him?

We're separated.

Are we done?

Unfortunately, you're gonna have to postpone your trip, Mrs. Croze.

Why?

You're involved in a murder case. You must stay at our disposal.

-Sounds fishy, right? -Yeah.

We should watch her house.

You're right. And we need to talk to her husband. Did you see her reaction?

-Yeah. Something's clearly off. -Yeah.

-What is it? -It's Antoine. He wants to see me.

How will I tell him about Mickaël?

It'll be fine. I'm sure he'll understand.

Yeah, you're right. I'll just tell him the truth.

Life's too short.

It's done. We have two men watching Émilie Croze's house.

Okay.

-Wait, Bernier. -Yeah?

What?

What? Did I do something wrong?

Wait. What are you doing?

Well, life's too short, right? Don't you agree?

Yes, I agree.

-I love you. -I love you.

You okay?

Yeah. I'll be right back.

Chloé?

-Yeah? -I have something to tell you.

-Me, too. -Let me go first, if you don't mind.

You might think I'm crazy.

I know we've only been together for six months, but…

Antoine, I lied about my past.

-How so? -I've done things I'm not proud of.

-Such as? -Thefts.

-That's it? -No.

You know, that "M" in my tattoo for my best friend Morgane?

Well, she doesn't exist.

That "M" stands for Mickaël, my ex.

What's all this bullshit?

Wait, it's not what you think. It's over between us.

Why did you lie to me?

Because I was ashamed.

I didn't know how to tell you we had planned burglaries together.

-Do you still see him? -No. I mean, yes.

No, yes. Do you still see him or not?

He stole something two days ago and I tried to protect him.

-You still love him? -No.

So why protect him?

-You're fucking with me. -No. Wait. He's like a brother to me.

No. Don't you touch me!

-There's nothing left to say. -Wait. Antoine, wait!

-Hi, Chloé. -Hi.

-Any news from Émilie Croze's husband? -He hasn't picked up.

Here's all I know about him. Adam Croze, 44 years old.

-Yeah. -No criminal record.

He works as a mechanic near Nancy.

I left a message at his workplace. I'm waiting for their call.

Okay. Good.

What did I do with it? I was standing here…

I can't believe it.

-What are you looking for? -Nothing.

-What is it? -Antoine dumped me.

Here's my transfer request.

It doesn't have to come to this.

It does. I messed everything up.

It was to be expected. We don't have a choice, we must appeal.

-Hello. -Hello.

I need to borrow him for a sec. He's my son.

I'll be right back. Sorry.

Look, don't even try. I won't change my mind.

Yes, I get it. You're in charge of your life.

Why are you here?

I just wanted you to know that Chloé put in a transfer request.

I can't blame her.

Why would she work with the mother of a guy who dumps her at the first hurdle?

I gotta go.

These kids are annoying. We used to get drunk and make up in bed.

These kids are annoying. We used to get drunk and make up in bed.

This isn't over yet.

-You have something in mind. -Yeah, but I'm gonna need your help.

That's all I know. I'll call you back if I hear anything else.

Thanks.

Something's not right with Émilie Croze's husband.

I just talked to his boss. He vanished into thin air four months ago.

He could've changed jobs.

Without telling anyone? I doubt it. He'd just been promoted, too.

I checked his bank records, there hasn't been any transaction since.

Mehdi, locate his phone, please.

-What's his name? -Adam Croze.

I can't find it. His battery must be dead.

Where's the last place it pinged?

The auction house. Exactly four months ago.

A phone here? It doesn't make any sense. We haven't used the basement in years.

It's here.

-Do you have a key? -No.

I can break it down.

There you go.

It stinks.

I found the phone!

Chloé? You okay?

It's Adam Croze.

No tunic or sign. It's not the same killer.

Stop lying to us, Mrs. Croze.

Forensics found this shard of glass in your husband's neck.

It couldn't have been self-inflicted.

I don't know what you're showing me.

This shard of glass was analyzed.

It comes from a witch's eye mirror.

-Doesn't ring a bell? -No.

And this other mirror doesn't either?

No.

Of course.

Weren't you surprised not to hear from your husband for four months?

I told you, Adam and I separated.

We went on with our lives. It's much better this way.

Would he forget about his kids?

You knew he was dead and so did Olivia Salem and the Marconi sisters.

It was your little secret between the four of you.

I'm not involved in any of this.

Why did you try to run away last night?

Talk to us, Mrs. Croze. I can see it's weighing on you.

If not for you, do it for your children.

They deserve to know what happened to their father.

My children?

My children must never know what kind of man Adam was. Never.

He put me through hell.

I wasn't allowed to do anything. I could barely go out.

If I disobeyed him, he would hit me.

So I started to babysit at home.

I wanted to start a new life. I tried, but you know how it is.

My job was to take care of the kids. I had nothing else.

The only thing that belonged to me…

-was an old family heirloom. -The mirror.

And since the Marconi sisters knew about art,

I asked them to help me sell it.

It belonged to my great-grandmother. She studied with Émile Gallé.

It's magnificent. I'll sell it in no time.

You should sell it with the museum's lots.

That's a great idea. Many collectors will be there.

Émilie!

You thought I didn't know about your little scheme?

Come on. Let's go home.

-Come here! -No, Adam.

Stop it. You're hurting her!

Mind your own business, bitch.

Adam, stop it.

-Give me that. -No.

Give it to me!

You really thought I'd let you leave?

No, no, no! You can't do that.

Let's put it away. Come on.

Adam, no.

Let me through, goddammit. Move.

No! No!

There, it's over. End of story.

-Come with me. -No. No, I don't want to.

-I don't want to. No! -Come on, I said.

No!

-You don't wanna come? -No!

No! No. Hey. Stop it. That's enough.

Calm down. Stop or I'll call the cops.

Call them. I don't give a fuck. Come here, you.

-No. No. -Come, honey.

No, please. No, I'm begging you. Ouch, you're hurting me.

Adam?

We hid the body in the basement of the auction house.

And Carole Marconi made a copy of the mirror,

so you could make a fresh start.

Now, at least, we know who killed all these women.

Who? Émilie Croze?

She eliminated her accomplices to protect her secret.

It seems obvious.

I don't mean to contradict you, but she's not a cold-blooded killer.

These women are on trial. How else would you explain this witch ritual?

No. Our killer's avenging Adam Croze.

So you claim.

In the meantime, I'm indicting her for accessory to murder.

Put her on house arrest with an ankle tag.

Yes, Chloé?

The hospital called. Olivia Salem's out of her coma.

Finally some good news.

You should've told us earlier about Adam Croze, Mrs. Salem.

He was a scumbag. I won't cry over him.

-What about Émilie? -She's safe.

-But she's the prosecutor's main suspect. -What?

That's right, the prosecutor thinks she tried to silence you.

That's ridiculous.

Émilie was the first one who wanted to come forward.

The first?

What do you mean, the first? Someone else thought about it, too?

Carole.

Killing a man was eating at her.

The only thing that kept her from talking was her fear of going to jail,

away from her daughter, Julie.

What if Carole Marconi talked?

-To the police? We'd know. -Not necessarily.

If she wanted to ease her conscience, she could've talked to Adam's kin.

Does he have family around here?

Yes, adoptive parents.

But it can't be them. They're in a nursing home.

What do we know about his biological parents?

Unknown father. And his mother…

MOTHER STABBED TO DEATH

Shit, she was killed when Adam was 12.

Guess how?

-Stabbed through the heart. -Just like our victims.

No. Could it be the same killer?

-What did the investigation uncover? -It was never solved.

Witnesses testified that Adam's mother was abusing him.

Hold on. His mother beats him, then dies.

The Marconi sisters and their accomplices get rid of him and they die.

These crimes are clearly a vengeance. No matter what the prosecutor says.

The perp is trying to finish the job. Émilie Croze has been abducted.

The kids are okay, but her house was ransacked.

-I can't believe it. -Shit.

Her electronic tag.

Good thinking. Mehdi, send me her location.

-I'm coming with you. -No. Stay here.

Look for a childhood friend or a relative who'd want to avenge him.

-Chloé, come with me. -Okay.

Are you sure, Mehdi?

There's no one here.

Okay.

-According to her GPS, she's here. -We should at least find her tag.

Could she be in the tower?

-No. -Most likely in the tunnels.

-Bernier? -Yeah?

I know who the killer is.

What's that?

Adam Croze's neighbors when he was a kid. Look who's there.

-Gather the teams. -Okay.

Yes, Bernier? Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?

Shit, there's no signal.

Hello? No reception either. What do we do?

We should go back upstairs. Seems important.

-Shit, what is that? -Chloé!

Chloé, what are you doing? Chloé!

Chloé!

He went that way.

Wait. It looks superficial. Will you be okay? Hang tight, okay?

Wait. Don't go. I have a bad feeling about this. Laurence!

Who are you?

If you only knew.

Adam and I grew up together. We were inseparable.

Did he tell you about his mother, the witch?

Did he?

She did things to him. Terrible things.

But since she was a renown historian, people turned a blind eye.

Not me, though.

One day, I went into her house…

I found that knife… I took it…

and I killed her.

After that, Adam was handed over to Social Services.

He was placed in foster care.

And I lost track of him for 30 years.

I had just found him again when you took him from me.

You and your witch friends.

Sometimes we spend a lot of time searching in vain and sometimes destiny just…

Stupid Carole Marconi came to confess everything in my office three days ago.

-It's your turn to pay now. -Get back!

They killed Adam.

He was a violent man. They only defended themselves.

Move away from her.

It's over.

We already called the morgue. The firefighters will take the body.

-Hey. Thank you. You saved my life. -No.

-How did you find me? -Quite beautiful.

-Moron. How did you find me, really? -Very brave.

Stop it. How did you know I'd be in the tunnels?

Nicolas Remy locked the witches in the Craffe dungeon pending their trial.

-Wow. History. -Yes, History.

Laurence Weber.

Where are you? Bernier will soon be here and I'm all alone.

And that's not a party. There's one champagne bottle for 15 guests.

Just hurry up. Shit.

I think we got played.

Oh, that's just great.

No, wait. Chloé.

I was worried about you. How's your arm?

-That's nice of you. -I miss you.

I'm sorry about last time. I overreacted.

-No, it's me. I shouldn't… -No, it's my fault. I wasn't myself.

I was nervous. I was afraid that you'd say no.

I was about to propose.

And about Mickaël… I'm gonna be his attorney.

-You would do that? -He might as well have a good lawyer.

Thank you.

I love you.

-Does that mean yes? -Yes.

-All good, Captain. It's in the bag. -Thanks, Mehdi.

Here you go, ma'am. And for you, sir.

To love?

To love. Do you even know what it means?

Us chauvinists are experts, actually.

You consider yourself a chauvinist?

I never said I was, I just said I can teach you a lot about love.

Encore des mots toujours des mots, les mêmes mots…

Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Not here.

Des mots faciles, des mots fragiles qui sonnent faux

-Not here. -Oui tellement faux

Come on, please. Stop it.

Caramels, bonbons et chocolats