All language subtitles for Cannes.Confidential.S01E03.A.Clear.Conscience.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP2.0.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

♪ With only moonlight and you

Call the police.
Call the police!

Oh, my God.

Morning, sunshine.

Please, not so loud.

Okay.

Another day,
another much needed coffee.

Use this, please.

Because the bottle's
all contaminated

and you have to bag it.

Take it down to the station
for decontamination?

You're just lazy.

Can you at least use
the right bin?

Right.

When are you gonna clean out
that bunker of yours?

Dad's in prison.
Case closed.

When are you gonna move on?

Don't you understand?
He was set up.

He's innocent.

What if he did do it?

- You can't change the world--
- I will find proof, okay?

Look, I want you to be careful.

If you see anyone suspicious,
keep your guard up, okay?

Why?

Is this how you get
when you're a cop?

All suspicious, all paranoid?

You know, everyone
isn't out to hurt us.

But you wouldn't know,
because you never see anyone.

I'll see you after work.

- How about Lea?
- What about Lea?

I think she has the hots
for you.

Oh...

Margaux, everything is not
a reality show, okay?

Mm.

I gotta go.

Speak of the devil.

I'm not sure what you mean.

Are you on your way in?

- Yeah, what's up?
- Meet us on the docks.

We're heading out
to Ile Sainte-Marguerite.

Okay.

We've got a dead body.

Okay.
Be right there.

Genevieve,
I need to see my father

and I want you to arrange it.

It's not possible.
Philippe made it clear.

I know what he said,

but I want you
to change his mind.

Alright, Camille.
I'll talk to him.

Thank you.

Okay, everyone, listen up.

The police are on the way.

- There's nothing else to see.
- What happened?

Did some poor nudist overdose
on sun and rosé?

Yeah, something like that.

Come on, man, let's go.

Hey, everyone, let's go.

Let's go, please.

You okay, Ramz?

I'm good.
It's just...

It's just early, that's all.

You need coffee.

What I need...

- Hold it! Hold it, Ramz.
- Not here.

What I need is
to get off this boat.

But the monks live
on the neighboring island?

What was he doing here
after hours?

Missed the ferry?

Yep, also.

Better stop the tourist boats

and get our boats
circling the island.

I don't want anyone leaving.

Alright.
We'll go this way, and you...

Just like
"The Name of the Rose."

Didn't see it.

It's actually a book,
then turned into a film.

The old James Bond played a monk
who solves murders.

Sort of a medieval Sherlock
in a monk's robe.

Didn't see or read it, Ramz.

Time to earn that salary.
Talk to me.

Okay, um...

Eh...

So, head smashing on impact.

Amount of blood, severe.

Died sometime last night,

but I'll have to temp the liver
for the exact ETD.

So, initial cause of death--

blunt trauma to the head
due to a high fall?

Yes, ma'am.

A couple of tourist boats arriving,

but the area is sealed off.

Good.

Ramz just called me "ma'am."
Do I look old?

Several wounds.

He might have hit the rocks
on the way down.

Accident?
Or did he jump?

What is doing a monk
here after hours?

Everything's closed.

And don't say
he missed the ferry.

No belongings, no ID, nothing.

A John Doe.

The robe-- real or fake?

Maybe he worked at the museum?

We need to ID him.

And talk to the other monks
at the monastery.

He walked here
and slipped?

It's strange.

Over here.

Blood.

Look.

That's gotta be at least
two sets of footprints.

Two people.

He was dragged,

bleeding...

...and pushed over the cliff.

Killed.

You are gonna love this.

I found a lethal wound
made by something blunt.

He was dead before
he hit the ground.

But we'll have to wait
for the full autopsy.

Almost forget, we found blood
traces near the shoreline.

Ramzy confirms it. Murdered.

But why?

Who would like to kill a monk?

And here of all places?

There's been a lot
of hate crimes

against the church lately.

Men of the cloth not keeping
their pious hands to themselves.

So, two people kill him

and make it look
like an accident.

It seems sloppy,
like the spur of the moment.

Not something planned.

I need to see the security
guards, go over their routines.

And take the statement
from the couple who found him.

And the staff.

Have they seen the monk before?

Okay?

Yes, ma'am.

How did the girls take it?

As you might expect, they've
reacted slightly differently.

Margaux, well...

Margaux.

Camille?

Disbelieving.
Disillusioned.

Defiant. Determined.
And that's just the D's.

She wants to see you.

I already said no.

Is there nothing or no one
that can change your mind?

I'm not just your lawyer.
Am I?

I was hoping life might begin
again for the two of us.

Don't you think
I deserve an explanation?

I was tired of the deceit
and all the lies.

Oh. Okay.

So, a clear conscience is worth
a seven-year sentence...

for us all?

I need you to stop Camille
from doing anything stupid.

There's no point.

And how do you propose
I do that?

Your daughter is as stubborn,

infuriating, and impossible
as another person I know.

I need your help on this.

So, he was one of yours?

I'm sorry.

What was he doing here?

I mean, on this island.

He was a bird watcher.
Took pictures.

Nature, all of its beauty.

He said he had found a haven
here among us.

He had a troubled past.

Like you, my friend.

I need to contact his relatives.

Well, I'll see if I can
find out what happened.

Don't expose yourself, Harry.

Did you see Emilie?

Yeah, yeah, I saw her.

But, um...

I mean, what if I put her
in harm's way?

I would never be able
to forgive myself.

The longer you wait,
the harder it will be.

Tell me, Harry, are you
some kind of dead-body magnet?

Whenever there's a dead body,
I turn and there you are.

Coincidence, or are you just
the worst serial killer ever?

Or, um...
maybe it's fate?

Relative of yours?

Secrecy runs in the family?

Do you know what,
Lieutenant Delmasse?

I would love to stay here
and talk with you all day long.

- But I really have to...
- What have you found out?

My dad won't see me,

and this Julien Boire
has started making threats.

Threats?
Out in the open?

No, subtle.
Just making his presence known.

So I need something.
Make yourself useful.

Okay, um...

So, the monk--

he was one of Placid's
lost sheep.

- Placid?
- Oh, yeah.

No, sorry.
Placid's an old friend of mine.

He's a retired priest over
at the Benedictine monastery

- on the other island--
- That's no help!

Monastery is on our list.

Okay, then Placid said
that he had a troubled past.

Yes, Ramz?

I want you to look at this.

A troubled past, no doubt.

You saw no one suspicious?
No incidents yesterday?

No, nothing.
I made my rounds as usual,

and was about to leave
the nightshift

when I had a call
from the restaurant.

- I work a double shift now.
- Poor you.

- Excuse me?
- Oh, nothing.

Are you sure all of
this stuff's authentic?

I mean, this tapestry
in particular.

Don't take this the wrong way,
but it looks to me

like it's been knocked off
in some Bangkok sweatshop.

- Will there be anything else?
- These monks...

- Do they come here often?
- How the hell do I know?

Well, you have eyes, don't you?

I saw nothing.
Ask the manager.

And did you, by any chance,

take a look at outside
of the city walls last night?

Excuse me, but...

Who the hell is you?
Is he with you?

- Yes.
- No.

Okay.

Um, think of me
as a concerned citizen.

- Who should stay quiet.
- Right.

Did you make your rounds
outside?

There's nothing to steal
outside the fort.

Okay.
That's a no, then.

We're gonna need
all your CCTV footage.

I'm afraid most of the cameras
here are just for the show.

And the rest of it
doesn't even work.

Hey, don't blame me
for budget cuts, huh?

- Of course not.
- Have a good day.

Thank you.
You've been most helpful.

Well, I don't know about you,
but no CCTV,

nervous security guards--
certainly makes you wonder.

A man with five passports
makes you wonder even more.

You should be focusing
on finding a connection

between my father
and Julien Boire.

Hey, Rome wasn't built
in a day, alright?

Not even a week.

I feel like you're stalling.

What are you scared of?

Sc-Scared?

You think I'm scared?

You don't know me very well.

- Oh, sorry.
- What?

Really?

Imagine if these walls
could talk.

The stories they would tell us.

A man with a secret identity,
a shady past.

A riddle wrapped
in a mystery.

Sounds familiar.

What is the key
to unlocking him, do you think?

Maybe there isn't one.

There is always a key.
You just need to find it.

But like all great mysteries,
it's one that can't be solved.

Must have been hard,
living in such veiled mystery.

Oh, I'm sure
he was fine with it.

Living in a prison.

Unknown.

Locked away.

No one to confess.

Do you know, your obsession
with me, whilst flattering,

is probably
really rather unhealthy.

His jailer knew the truth.

The one who controlled him.

The one on the right side
of the law.

The one who no one remembers.

I am the museum manager,
Pierre Costignan.

You must be the police.

I am. He's not.

Definitely not.

Have you seen this man before?

Oh, my God. No.

Nobody is allowed here
after nightfall.

All civilians have to return
to the mainland.

And the ferry doesn't get back
until morning.

Oh, except, of course,
if you have a boat.

What can you tell me
about these brothers?

Oh, so, the Benedictine brothers
sell rosaries

and their home brew,
their liqueur.

They give the Fort Royal
a certain medieval panache.

And the liqueur
is extremely popular.

And rather delicious,
I might add.

Well, thank you,
Mr. Costignan.

- You're welcome.
- I think we're done for now.

Thank you.

Nothing so far
suggests otherwise.

What the hell was he doing here?

I don't suppose
you've found, uh...

I dunno, binoculars
o-or a camera with the body?

It's just, uh,
Placid said something.

He said he was a twitcher--
a bird watcher.

That was useful, for a change.

Happy to obli...

Nice camera.
Is it yours?

I had one when I was young.

Used to take pictures of horses.

I found it.
Over there.

It doesn't work.

Can I see?

Yeah?
Where are you?

I'm by the jetty.

You're done?

I'm coming.

Found something.

Memory card is gone.

What was the monk
photographing at night?

Owls?

I took all the beach staff's
statements.

Nobody saw a damn thing.

Only some fishermen here
after hours.

Let's go.

Blood on the camera lens
and rosary belonged to the monk,

as well as the blood found near
the shoreline and the cliffs.

But the little CCTV we got
was useless.

Empty corridors and hallways...

and nothing outside the fort
or near the pier.

What did the monastery say?

The monk's name
was Darius Vignier, 27.

Former convict.

Petty theft, drug possession,
grand theft auto.

No bank account,
no credit cards, nothing.

Latest known address, at his
grandmother's here in Cannes.

So, Darius joined the brothers
to repent,

leaving the criminal world.

Was it why he was killed?

Did he recognize someone?

It could have been
an act of vengeance

for something he did
in his earlier life.

Or maybe he was on the run?
I mean...

He did hide under a robe.

Okay, what we know is that he
was killed or beat unconscious

near the water's edge...

where his rosary broke.

He was dragged
and thrown off the cliff.

They took the memory card,
but not the camera.

This was no robbery,
no ordinary assault.

We need to know more about him.

Visit the monastery
and talk to that priest, Placid.

No way.

I swear that's what she said.

Lea, quick word?

Sure.

I'll wait by the car.

I don't know what to say.

Say yes.
It's a great promotion.

Better salary.

I appreciate that.
It's an amazing offer.

But it's in Paris.

I know, and your family
still lives there.

It's a good move for you.

Think about it?

I will.

Looking for someone, ladies?

Um, yes.
Madame Vignier?

Should be back soon.

Okay. Thanks.

You've barely said a word
since the station.

What did Nina want?

Um...
Nothing.

Just, uh, flexing her muscles.
Went over my time reports.

Officers, there she comes.

Madame Vignier?

I'm afraid we have
some bad news.

Father Placid already called me.
He told me.

I know this must be difficult.

But do you know if Darius
had any enemies?

No!

Darius told me he had left
that world behind.

He had found God.

He was at peace.

Let us help you.

- Take my arm.
- Thank you.

A little piece of heaven
on Earth.

Maybe that's what
Darius thought?

Hello, and welcome
to the monastery.

Camille Delmasse, Cannes P.D.

We'd like to visit
Darius' cell room.

- Of course, Lieutenant.
- Thank you, Father.

Tea's ready.
I'm sorry.

Had I known you were coming,
officers, I...

I would have made more.

He's like an itch
you can't scratch.

Follow me, please.
- Thank you, Father.

Darius was a kind soul
behind all that hard armor.

He was raised on the streets
of Marseille.

But his grandmother helped out
from time to time.

- Bless her heart.
- Hm.

Did he ever mention anything
from his criminal past,

anyone who might be after him?

We never spoke of his past,

but we would listen
if he ever wanted to open up.

I guess he didn't.

No, he was a very quiet
young man.

St. Benedict spoke of tolerance,
acceptance, and hospitality.

Strange words in these times
where "greed is good."

He teaches us to see Christ
in every person,

however tarnished,
fallible, broken.

We all want to be forgiven.

Old Placid has
a way with words.

Do you know him long?

Why don't you go
entertain the priest?

Have him do an exorcism.

- On you?
- Be gone, foul spirit.

I'm afraid he's not
that kind of priest.

Darius really was
a bird watcher, though.

The Norwegian blue.

And a philosopher.

"If he has a conscience, he will
suffer for his mistake.

That will be punishment...
not prison."

We need a password.

Another gift for Ramzy.

Memory cards.

I know you're not
an amateur sleuth.

So why are you here?

I'm an old friend of Placid's.

What do you know
about Harry King?

I'm not at liberty
to reveal anything

I might have heard
in confession.

Really?

A lot to confess, I imagine.

I hope you find whoever took
poor Darius' life, Lieutenant.

Father, about Harry...

You're retired.

Is the seal
of confession still valid?

That's an oath
between me and God.

Nice chat?

These were off
the old memory card,

and taken last week.

Fishermen? Why?

Let's check out that number.

Laying down nets, or what?

Whatever they're doing, they're
definitely not laying down nets.

Hi.

How's your day, Andre?

Oh, you don't phone,
you don't write.

Still as moanful as ever, Andre.

No wonder they call you
The Ghost.

That's my girl.

We're on your side.

You know that,
don't you ever forget it.

Come here, sweetie.

Come home.

- I need your help.
- Oh?

The number might be fake.

Do you know the boat?
No.

We have a lot of boats here.

Too many, if you ask me.

The straits
southeast of Fort Royal--

do you know any of the boats
fishing out there?

No, too many currents here.

No fish in those waters.

You want a drink?

The guy looked kind of spooked
when I told him Darius was dead.

But his alibi checks out.

Hm.

So, during one of
Darius' excursions,

he happened to stumble upon
some of his old pals.

The fishermen.

But they were not fishing.

There is no fish there,
according to Andre,

due to strong currents.

You wanna check this out.

Thinking of getting
some ink, Ramz?

No.

I ran all the monk's tattoos
against a database

containing criminal
and prison tattoos...

and I found a match.

A tattoo belonging to a gang
out of Marseille, Devil's Spear.

Devil's Spear...

I heard of them.

Military dropouts.
Drug runners.

Yeah, they run a drug operation
out of Marseille and Morocco.

It's a drug ring,

and Darius recognized
the fishermen operating.

But he got discovered,
and silenced.

Good job, Ramz.

Thanks, boss.

We need to check out
those waters.

Yep.

Hello?

Wait.

I've been offered
a promotion.

- What?
- Better pay.

It's-- It's in Paris.

We need to check out
that stretch of sea.

Call the coast guard.

Haven't you got anything to say?

I'm happy for you.

Means that you can see
your family more often.

And better pay.

What's not to like?

Yeah.

I'd hate to see you leave.

I really would.

But it's not my decision.

And I understand.

Let's go.

Hello?
Anybody in here?

Hello?

Is anybody in here?

Oh, my life.

Well, it's been a while.

[Distantly] You're
supposed to lock the door.

No, that's your job.
My job?

How the fuck
the door was open, then?

I don't know.
Nah, man.

This is really not...
It's all good, man.

We got to move this shit, man.
We can't wait now.

- Bro, you need to chill.
- Chill?

- You're stressing me out.
- What you mean, man?

The door was unlocked, man.

We got to move this thing.

- Let's move it, then.
- Yeah, pack it up, man.

- What was that? You hear that?
- Yeah, I heard that.

- Go check the door real quick.
- Yeah, I'mma check it out.

Stop right there! What the fuck
are you doing here?

Oh, there you are.

Thank the Lord.
I have...

I have been screaming
for help for hours.

I've lost my voice.

I was, uh, locked in.

Locked in there, you see.

I know this guy.

Um, the name's Leach.

Archie Leach,
tr-travel writer.

You were at the museum,
weren't you?

You were asking
about tapestries.

- Tapestries, yes.
- What fucking tapestries?

Who the fuck is this guy, man?

- He was with the police.
- You're a cop?

No, no, no. No, I just...
I fell asleep in there and...

Well, now I'll be on my way
and leave you boys

to whatever it is you're up to.

Oh, um...

This was on the floor,
and I almost tripped over it.

You should take better care
of your utensils.

The fuck...?

Oh, God!
That certainly woke me up.

You gonna stay with us
a bit.

- Yeah.
- What do we do with him?

- Man, we kill him.
- No, no, that's a terrible idea.

Start loading the shit
and get the boat ready, bro.

You sure?
- Yeah.

First the monk,
then this dude?

I got this.

Or-- Or you could
just let me go,

and I won't breathe a word
to a living soul, I promise.

Now, you shut the fuck up,
and you get back in there.

Get back in.
Right now.

Couldn't help overhearing
you had a boat.

I-I have a boat.

Shut the fuck up.
Okay. Okay.

I remember Dad told me
about smugglers

using anchored buoys
out to sea.

They attached sealed bags
or packages

with drugs,
weapons, whatnot.

Coast guard here,
on their way.

Copy that.

Coast guard are on their way.

Okay.

There is no movement anywhere.

Head for the shore!

Hey, listen.

I find in situations like this,
it's really good to keep talking

because I'm sure we can come to
some accommodation, you and I.

I've noticed that your business
is probably small to medium.

Now, I'm a very
well-connected man.

Man, shut the fuck up
right now, bro!

You and me could be
very, very wealthy men.

I'm not saying that...
I won't even...

- Shut the fuck up, now.
- Okay.

God damn.

Anything? Over.

Nothing.
We'll do a sweep.

Copy that.

I got somethin' for you.

Wait. Wait.
What are you doing?

Whoa!

- Really?
- Can you take the big guy?

I give you five minutes to play,
then use your gun.

Sure.

You should've used that gun.

Nah, let's do this
the old-fashioned way.

I can use a workout.

Sure about that?

What are you doing?
Please!

Just the wrong time,
wrong place.

Nothing personal, man.

Police!
Drop your weapon!

Sorry, did that hurt?

Thank you.

Gotta go.

Drug dealing,
assaulting a police officer...

It's prison time for you, pal.

Stop!

Wait!

Stop!

I'll find you anyway!

Ah!

Damn it!

- You want to get shot?
- No, I don't want to get shot.

And certainly not by you.

But, you know,
you saved my life and...

so I owe you one.

Right, I think we'd have
a better chance if we split up.

Okay.
You go this way.

Oh, Harry!

Keep your head down.

Yeah, I'll try.

You killed Darius
to silence him?

Me and him got history.

Only good snitches
are dead snitches.

You bet.

How you like it now? Huh?

How you like it now?

Does it hurt yet?
Does it hurt yet?

Hey, Lewis Hamilton!

You know, cricket practice.

I had him.

Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I know you did.

- Drink?
- Cheers.

But now we're even.

Don't worry.
Prison's gonna hurt, alright.

- Enjoy that one win, piggy.
- Move it, punk!

Get off of me!

Coast guard found
the fishing boat.

It was stolen out of Cassis.

Hm, a drug ring out of Marseille
posing as fishermen.

And the paid gorilla deactivated
some of the CCTV cameras.

To let them work undetected.

But somehow, fate intervened,

by letting the monk
crash their party.

Poor Darius paid a heavy price.

Mm.

Some day, huh?

Tell me about it.

Killer.

I go there.
I was supposed to meet Alice.

- Here is your drink, madam.
- Did you order another round?

Compliments of the gentleman
over there.

Margaux.

Uh, I can call you Margaux?

Well, of course.
It's my name.

What do you do when you're not
enchanting out-of-towners?

I'm in between jobs. Um...

I thought about studying, but
then I would be at home studying

and not meeting
interesting people like you.

And, um...

living with your sister,
what's that like?

Must be a pain.

How do you know
I live with my sister?

You just told me
five minutes ago.

How many drinks have you had?

Yeah, maybe I did.

Well, uh, it's like living
with a jailer.

- Oh!
- Mm-hmm.

She's that demanding, huh?

Yeah, she is.

She's a cop.
Did you know that?

I didn't.
But I do now.

And big sister is trying to keep
little sister out of trouble?

Hm, yeah, I guess so.

But she's not very good at it.

What do you do?

I solve problems.

A problem solver?

So, if I have a problem,
I come to you?

Yes.

And I just take care of it.

Well, to my future
solved problems.

Exactly.

No...

- Just go inside, now!
- Daddy! Don't go!

No! Daddy!

I'm so so...
I'm so sorry...

- Hey!
- Hey!

Give me a shot of Jaeger
and a... gin and tonic.

Yeah.
Please.

- As usual.
- Yeah.

Thank you.

Hey.

Hi.

Would you like, uh...
company?

Or maybe we can go
someplace else?

I'm...
I'm alright, thank you.

I'm waiting for someone.

Lucky girl.

Margaux?

Margaux?

Oh, my God!
What's your problem?

Where have you been?

You're not my mom, Camille.

I had a good time.

And I got a ride home.

Really?

By this charming gentleman.

He's cute, right?

I'm going to bed.

You have five minutes.

I only need one.

Delmasse, you have a visit.

Boire says hello.

Tell your daughter
to stop digging.

Do you know who I am?

Turn around, kid, walk away,

and never speak to me again.