All language subtitles for Picpus.1943.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.MX]

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Knit one, purl one.

Go 15 rows and reverse.

Knitting in the garden in the morning

that's making the best of the holidays.

My husband enjoys fishing.
He left at 5 a.m.

Aren't you afraid he'll catch cold?

- Hello, ladies.
- Hello, Sir.

- Mr.?
- Moisy.

- "Moisy"...
- Old goats...

You don't mind my looking at the paper?

- Not at all.
- What do you think of it, Mr. Albert?

- Of what?
- That killing rue Picpus.

I don't care
about detective stories.

It is not a story.

The best life is one in which
nothing ever happens.

Yet you seem to be pretty busy,
Mr. Albert.

You got a letter yesterday
and two telegrams.

And you got three phone calls.

- Are you spying on me.
- No, just interested.

Did I answer the phone?
Or read those letters?

- No.
- What's your conclusion?

You're not curious.

- Indeed, I am not.
- Come, Mr. Albert.

- What is it?
- A registered letter.

Excuse me.

He must have sentimental problems.

- What's going on?
- A registered letter.

- What did I tell you?
- Not to disturb you, Mr. Maigret.

- Don't use my name.
- Sorry, Inspector.

Once more?

You're Mr. Maigret,
the famous policeman?

- I am?
- Yes.

The one they write about
in the papers?

It's an official letter.

No, no, pal, you're badly mistaken.

I've got a job.
I sell suspenders.

It's a useful job.
I keep trousers from falling down.

- Very well.
- Yes.

It's an order for suspenders
for the cycling brigade.

I don't work with those people.
See what I do with their letter.

Take those 5 francs
and buy a drink.

- Thank you. Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

- What a mess-up!
- Yes lnspector.

- Yet again!?
- It just slipped out.

You know what I said: I stay
at your place but under one condition:

No one must know who I am
or what my name is. All right?

May I see your license Monsieur?

What license?
Your fishing license.

For fishing or for catching fish?

Because I'm fishing,
but I'm not catching anything.

Do you have your license,
yes or no?

I must have left it at home.

Like all those who never had one.

And your ID?
No, for the same reason.

- No ID either? Perfect!
- Perfect?...so now we're both happy!

- Your name?
- I won't tell you.

You're making things worse for yourself.

If you knew who you were talking to,
you wouldn't be so happy.

It's all the same to me
if you're the Pope!

You'd be excommunicated.

- In the meantime... come over here!
- You, come here!

God, you're making things worse
for yourself! Come here!

- Hey you! Watch out!
- Seems I got here just in time.

Hands up! Police!

He doesn't have a fishing license.

- Help me arrest him.
- Don't you worry, pal.

I'll arrest him.
I've been after him for a long time.

Guilty of assuming the identity
of Inspector Maigret.

Come aboard.

I submit to your violence.
I come on board under protest.

Take it easy!
'bye, pal... See you!

Thanks Lucas. Now get off!

You can't send me back, boss!

- I want some peace and quiet.
- It's a sensational case!

I don't care about sensational cases.

Don't you ever feel tired and
feel nobody's indispensable.

You're wasting
the best days of your life.

This is no ordinary case, boss!

The murder on Rue Picpus.

They need you...
the big Boss said it.

If you can't find Maigret,
Amadieu will take the case.

You can't let him, Boss
He'll make a mess of it.

- Let him make a mess.
- Lf you say so...

I won't talk about the wardrobe
then and what was inside.

It was most impressive.

- What "wardrobe"?
- I won't bother you with it.

- Are you going to come out with it?
- Not here... bad sea-legs!

- You want an armchair?
- I've got the car.

- Where is it?
- In front of the guesthouse.

Let's go then.

- Tell me the story.
- Well, boss...

Yesterday 11:30, Rue Durantin,
number 53.

The 4th-floor tenant, Jeanne Dumont
is moving out.

The movers leave her to have lunch.

She also leaves her old home.
For good...

She has lunch
in a small local restaurant.

And at 2 she goes
Rue Picpus to her new apartment,

- where she waits for the movers.
- What is she... this woman?

40 years old, not stupid.
She seems to knows more than she lets on.

- Profession?
- Dressmaker.

- Go on.
- Ln the afternoon, the movers work.

At 6:15, the job's finished.

Jeanne Dumont wants to open the
wardrobe that has been put in her bedroom.

Wardrobe locked.
Key can't be found.

One of the movers
helps her with his pocket knife.

The door opens.
It was most impressive.

- The investigation?
- As usual.

- The victim?
- Nobody knows who she is.

Description?

5 feet 4, blonde, blue-gray suit,

light colored stockings, worn shoes,

no ID and no handbag, boss.

"No handbag"? Strange.
What about the autopsy?

Dr Pierre came, dressed-up
and in a bad mood.

He was on his way to the opera.
Stabbed in the nape of the neck.

- What did Amadieu say?
- The usual.

For him, everyone's a suspect:

Jeanne Dumont because it happened
in her home,

the removers
because they brought the body.

So we need to find who the woman is,
where and when she was killed.

Where and when was
the body put in the wardrobe?

At the new home, rue Picpus or
at the old one, rue Durantin?

I don't know, boss.

- Where are we going?
- Let's start rue Durantin.

Did you notice murders are always
committed on the top floors

without elevator.

What are you saying?

Mum told me
this job would be hard on shoes.

- This is it?
- Yes, boss. Straight ahead.

- Hello, Mr. Maigret.
- Hello Janvier.

You're losing your hair.

Soon you'll be a
very polished policeman!

- Someone inside?
- Yes, Mr. Amadieu.

Thank you.

Oh, you're here.
I thought you were on holidays.

I was called back.

I'm sorry you came for nothing.

- What do you mean?
- The case is a simple one.

And we, with our old methods,

we'll manage
without your flashes of intuition.

Thank you. You're going
to beat someone up once more.

Yet, if I may, I'll look into it.

- You'll try and be clever, right?
- One does what he can.

I'll take up from where you left.

- Say... is there anything new?
- No, not much.

Out of 16 possible missing persons
not one match with our woman.

- Her photo's in the papers?
- Yes, of course.

- The autopsy?
- Dr Pierre is there.

I'm going ahead with a reconstruction.

- Mayl...?
- Yeah.

- You want something?
- No.

- What are you doing there?
- I was about to knock.

- You were listening at the door?
- No, but I could hear.

Your attitude is strange,
to say the least.

Come on in.
You have something to say to us?

Yes.

- What's your name?
- Louis Dubief.

- Profession?
- Writer.

Sorry but I don't know the name.

My pen name is Arnaud de Bédarieu.

Ah... yes. Good!

So...?

So, yesterday, at lunchtime

I met a woman on the stairs
on the 2nd floor

who answered the description
of the victim.

- What were you doing there?
- I live here, on the 2nd floor.

- What time was it?
- 12:30.

You looked at the time?

That lady asked me for the time.

- Had the victim got a watch?
- No.

- Well, Mr. Arnaud de...
- De Bédarieu.

Make yourself available
for questioning.

- Where about... the morgue?
- Where could it be... at the Opera?

I'd prefer the morgue.
More fascinating.

You can go.

He writes novels of imagination..
My wife reads his books.

She should lend them to you.

So according to the testimony
of the haggard novelist,

at 12:30 the victim was still alive.

Boss... We forgot to ask him
if his watch kept good time.

Very good! Isn't he the one!

Hello, Dr Pierre. Nice opera, yesterday?
What are your conclusions?

They're short. Amadieu has them.

The woman was killed at about 12:30

stabbed in the neck,
between the 5th and the 6th vertebra.

Spinal cord touched. Instant death.
Stabbed with full strength.

- By a man?
- Not necessarily.

An enraged woman
can be as strong as a man.

If you'd seen my wife last night...
Well, I'll be on my way.

It's lunch time and I'm hungry.

I'm not like you.
I don't feed on scandals.

Bye Doctor... Enjoy your meal.

You see... we've both come
to the same conclusions.

The murder took place here,
at about 12:30.

According to the witness's statements.

At 12:30,
Mrs. Dumont had been gone for an hour.

There was no one here at that time.

- Yes Chief, there was the killer.
- Whom nobody saw.

That doesn't clear the removers.

I have not given up hope
on getting a confession out of them.

Robbery with murder.

They're moving stuff...
someone turns up... they strike.

Motive: Theft...
we haven't found the handbag.

Who could have taken it
more easily than the movers?

What about the caretaker?

I questioned here. She doesn't know.
She saw nothing.

- Her husband?
- Not there either.

But he's a sergeant
in the Bicycle Brigade.

With a handlebar moustache.
I know the type.

During this time he was out
fining cyclists.

- Fingerprints?
- Nothing interesting.

Mrs. Dumont's and the movers'.

The killer seems to have benefited

from an extraordinary
combination of circumstances.

- Nobody's seen him..
- They might have.

You've got an idea?
What do you think?

I'm looking.

Who's that guy?
Is he spying on us?

As every tenant with a window,
he watches out of it, as is his right.

I'll go and ask him
if he's seen anything.

You're sometimes full
of great ideas!

- I've got a most impressive idea.
- Another one...?

- I think the killer's a woman.
- Why?

Oh... slow down.
I didn't understand a word.

A man carrying a woman's handbag
would have been noticed.

Maybe.

We haven't found the weapon

or the wardrobe key, or the bag.

They've all disappeared
at the same time.

There's another possibility

that for some reason,
the woman came here without a handbag.

- Which do you believe?
- I don't believe... l think.

Amadieu is over there, Chief.

Hey! He's dead!

- Dead?
- Gunshot!

A long time ago.

I feel Dr Pierre won't be
able to have dessert.

Stay there, Amadieu!
I've got an idea.

- Most impressive.
- Follow me, Lucas.

What are you doing?
I'm reconstructing the crime.

Amadieu! Can you see me?

Yes!

There was a witness
but he wasn't able to talk.

- A dead shot.
- Most impressive.

- Someone's at the door, Boss.
- See who it is.

- Good morning.
- What do you want?

We heard there was an
apartment for rent.

As we're getting married,
we came right up.

Right up indeed.
Aren't you afraid of ghosts?

No.

A crime was committed here.

We'll be the talk of the office.
Won't we, Philippe?

If we change the wallpaper,
do some painting...

- Well then... look around, kids.
- Thank you, Sir.

She's charming...
not very emotive, but charming.

Maigret, you're wrong.
The guy over there saw nothing.

- He couldn't see anything.
- Why?

He was blind.

A poor old blind man who spent his days
at the window listening

- to the sounds of the street.
- The killer didn't know that.

Because my name's Maigret
and that won't bring him luck.

- How big is Uncle Gustave's desk?
- I don't know.

People here.
Yes... and alive and kicking.

We've scarcely left this world
when we're replaced.

- The wallpaper's changed and that's it.
- This way, kiddies.

- You like the sun?
- Yes, of course.

An apartment across the way
will be available. Same floor.

As great as this one
but with a better lay out.

And with an elevator.

"The Picpus Case"
"The Picpus Case."

"Strange Murder"
"The Woman in the Wardrobe'

I've been a journalist too once.
I know the ropes.

We managed to avoid "Paris-Midi"
but I can imagine this evening's headlines.

The whole country will follow suit.

They'll drag up the cases of
Weidmann, Bonnot and Landru.

The cabaret singers will be on it,
we'll be the laughing-stock of the town.

Hello... what?

Who's handling the case... Why?

Have him wait.

No... send him up to Maigret's office.

Maigret's handling the case.

Since when? Since right now!

- I had a good lead, Boss.
- The removers!

You should have asked them
if one of them was a champion marksman.

Come on, children, there's
nothing to be gained by squabbling.

To each one his methods. Maigret's methods
may be fanciful but they work.

Amadieu's have been tried and tested.

Let's not waste time.
Someone's waiting for you in your office.

- A bag-snatcher?
- I don't know. Why?

- What's your opinion?
- I don't have any, Boss.

A crime of passion, Boss.

What?

The killer must have promised
the victim to accommodate her.

As clever as ever, aren't you?

Fat and stupid!

You have a strange way
of choosing your assistants.

Come on, Lucas.

I've got a narcotics case for you...
a stunning one.

- Hello!
- You wanted to see me?

Are you in charge of the Picpus case?

- Yes. Inspector Maigret.
- Inspector Maigret?

The newspapers don't mention your name.

You're suspicious.
I got back into town this morning.

Pleased to make your acquaintance
Mr. Maigret. Really.

Pleased that you're in charge
of the case.

I've got some sensational information.

A question of life and death.
I'm a scoundrel.

- Sit down.
- Thank you.

- What time is it?
- A quarter to four.

Quarter to four.
There's not a minute to lose.

What was I saying?
Where were we?

- You said you were a scoundrel.
- Yes... l am...

I'm a thief.
I've come to give myself up.

- You stole a handbag?
- No, I didn't.

I stole 1000 francs from my boss.

- 1000 francs? That's not much.
- It's the intention that matters.

- In for a penny in for a pound.
- And then you murder your mother.

You must understand...
a gambling debt is a debt of honor.

- Your honor made you become a thief?
- Yes. So arrest me.

I can. But I can't see what it has
to do with the murder in the rue Picpus.

So it might seem... no here...

- What is it?
- A blotting-paper.

- I can see that.
- Read it.

"Today, Friday at 6 p.m.

I will kill the clairvoyant"
Signed: "Picpus".

I found it
at the Café de la Nef, Place Clichy.

As you can see
there's not a minute to lose.

We'll do this by the book.

- Sit down.
- Thank you Sir.

- What's your name?
- Mascouvin.

- First name?
- Honoré.

Profession?

I have business agency
rue Grenata.

Every day I have a brandy
at the Café de la Nef.

And I always go home for lunch,
rue Biot.

Today I asked for something
to write on, because.

- I was racked with quilt.
- "With guilt"?

Yes, the 1000 francs, the theft.
I wanted to write to my boss

then give myself up afterwards.

So the waiter brought me
blotting-paper.

I must say that I'm short-sighted...
very short-sighted.

So I'd taken off my pince-nez, like this,
to wipe it clean.

I'd placed it like that
on the blotting-paper.

And I see reflected

and enlarged by the lens of my pince-nez

"I will kill... Picpus."

I then set about reading
the rest of the sentence.

"Today, Friday at 6 p.m.

I will kill the clairvoyant"
Signed: Picpus.

Luckily I had read the papers.

I saw the connection
and came straight here.

Tell me, old boy,
have you read the papers?

You never read the papers?

There's a strange article
in "Paris-Soir".

It might not be related.

A journalist's invention?

Read it just the same.
I had it sent over to you.

Thanks.

What's this now?

Come in!

Hello, Mr. Maigret.
It's Paris-Soir.

Let's see now...

- You're making fun of me, aren't you?
- Me?

You've talked to the papers.
Look!

- I get it. It must be the journalist.
- Which journalist?

When I made that discovery,
there was a customer beside me.

I was so upset by what I'd just read

that I couldn't help showing it to him.

He seemed interested
and told me he was a journalist.

He wanted to take the blotting-paper
to do a story.

But I wouldn't let him.

Just a second...

Get me Larsier on the crime-desk
at Paris-Soir.

- Go on.
- Where was I?

What time is it?

- 4 o'clock.
- There's not a minute to lose.

Hello? Hello? Paris-Soir?

Is that you Larsier? Hello, old boy...
Maigret here.

No, I got back this morning.
Yes, I'm in charge of the case.

I'll bury all of you???

Did you dig up this sensational
bit of information

after lunch
in a bistro Place Clichy called...

- What is it called?
- La Nef.

La Nef... N, e, f.

You had lunch at Palestrino's?

Is the Veal Milanese good?
With cheese?

Lucky bastard. But just how
did you come by this?

Mail-tube?

Send a courier with what you got

for identification.
I'll owe you for it.

Thanks. Believe that,

- and pigs might fly.
- What?

My dear Mr. Mascouvin

I wonder if your journalist
ever existed.

- It wasn't Larsier.
- I don't know if...

It came through the pneumatic mail-tube
just as they were going to press.

He had just enough time
to change the headline.

What did your journalist look like?

Let me think back... he was

I remember quite well.
Now I see him. Yes.

He had a sports jacket,
a small gray hat,

an American-style moustache
and a gold tooth in front.

- A gold tooth?
- Pretty good for someone short-sighted.

Yes, people often say that.

Boss, I have an idea...
a most impressive idea.

Mr. Mascouvin met Picpus himself.

- Picpus?
- Yes. "Signed: Picpus" ...the killer.

- What do you reckon?
- Nothing.

When I think of it, it might be.

His insistence on wanting to take
the compromising blotting-paper.

Maybe.

Hello... Show him in.

It's the courier. He was quick.

Tell old Goujon from the research
section to come over.

- What time is it?
- Ten past four.

Ten past four. Already! My God!

Come in!

You're the cyclist from "Paris-Soir"?
You must have stopped for nothing.

The most difficult part
was inside, here.

- It's from Mr. Larsier.
- I know what it is.

- You're Inspector Maigret?
- No, he's sleeping.

Sleeping? So it's not Maigret...

- What bike do you ride?
- An Alcyon.

Racing-bars, gears
and all the caboodle?

- You're an expert.
- I know bikes. One day,

I'll challenge you.
Did you leave it in the yard?

Be careful, people in this place
would pinch anything.

- No reply?
- No.

- How do you do, Mr. Goujon?
- Mr. Maigret.

Meet Mr. Mascouvin,
a brother in shortsightedness.

- Come with me.
- Where?

In front of the mirror.

- You want me to look at myself?
- No, look at this message.

"Today Friday at 6 pm

I will kill the clairvoyant."
Signed Picpus.

- Is this a joke?
- No.

And that one?

"Today Friday at 6 p.m."

- Is this what you got me here for?
- Yes.

It's the same. The original and
its imprint. The cast and the pattern.

Try and find some interesting
things about them. Have fun!

- What will you do?
- What shall I do? I don't know.

I can't put a watch
on every clairvoyant in Paris.

I don't have enough officers.

If the murder takes place
what will the press say?

- Really, you don't know who it is?
- No.

- It's horrible.!
- What is?

To know that a murderer
is going to kill and...

Yes. And wait. I know.

Listen...

- If I may dare...
- Dare away!

I'd ask you to come with me
to the bistro. You know, place Clichy.

When you're there, you might
have an idea.

An idea which might save
a woman's life.

- Let's go there then.
- Shall I come?

No. Go to "Lost and Found"...

See if there are any
handbag of interest.

Have all the pickpockets brought in.

- One of them may have the handbag.
- Right, boss.

How do you do, Mr. Honoré.

There... that's where I sat.

- Sit down.
- Yes.

- What will you have?
- Draught beer.

- Waiter!
- Sir?

- A half pint.
- The same.

Wait a moment.

Do you remember
serving this gentleman earlier?

Did I serve Mr. Honoré?

Listen...
Your statement is most important.

This gentleman is a policeman.

My dream! Ln Toulon once
after my holidays,

I wanted to join the police force,
but I met Marquita.

She was a barmaid.
Then I did the same.

But the vocation's still with me.
And the eye, too.

Let's see. What did you serve
the gentleman earlier?

A coffee.

And after? Another coffee.

No..
You gave me something to write on.

That's right.

- He was alone?
- Yes.

No... he wasn't alone.

I remember now.

Try and recall, Fernand.
It's very important.

There was a man sitting near me,
he was wearing a sports jacket.

Yes, I remember now.

I remember now...
you were talking together.

What about? I never listen!

He had a thin moustache,
a gray hat and a gold tooth?

- That's it.
- And me, do you remember me?

Yes, Sir.

- Where was I sitting? Over there?
- That's right.

Thank you, Fernand. That's all.

- I answered well, didn't I?
- Very well.

Bring me that desk blotter
you gave Mr. Honoré.

It's easy. There's only one.

That way, you can't do wrong.

Please don't draw on the tables.
It can't be rubbed out.

- We still want those beers.
- Yes, Sir.

Apart from the pleasure of
sharing a drink with you,

that little outing
was not of much use.

Why did you ask for the blotter?

Only a formality
to check the fingerprints.

But I don't believe in Santa Claus.

What time is it?

A quarter past five.

- May I suggest something?
- Suggest away.

Turn around.

And then read:
"Sheila, clairvoyant".

It might be her.

You can't read it?

The rest? No, I can't.
It's too small.

At 53 Rue Durantin, there's a clairvoyant.
Hear that?

- Yes.
- Here you are, gentlemen. Two beers.

No time to drink them.
Keep the change.

- And your blotter?
- Pack it and give it to Mr. Mascouvin.

- Come see me tomorrow at HQ.
- You're not arresting me?

Would you feel safer out of sight?

- Maybe, yes.
- Go and wait for me at my office.

- What time is it?
- Twenty past 5.

- Go, there's no time to lose.
- See you later.

"Bye Fernand.
Regards to Marquita."

Oh... she went off with a tenor
ages ago.

- Are you the caretaker?
- No, Sir.

You may be able to tell me about
Sheila, the clairvoyant.

I'm sorry, Sir. I don't know.

A bit of advice though...
why are you wasting your time?

Why look for the truth
from clairvoyants?

Truth is within you...
and it's through Zarathustra

- that you'll find it.
- Thank you very much!

- I'm looking for the caretaker.
- You want me, Sir?

- Good afternoon.
- The apartment's been rented.

I'm not interested.
I wanted to see Sheila, the clairvoyant.

- Sheila? She left.
- She left? Where to?

- She moved out yesterday.
- I thought Mars Dumont had moved.

- You're very inquisitive.
- That's my job.

She did Tarot cards, eh?
The Man of Law... that's me.

Police... You don't believe me?

We can't all be racing cyclists
like yours... So?

Mrs. Dumont and Sheila
are one and the same.

Only "Sheila"... sounds richer.

Mrs. Dumont was a clairvoyant?
I thought she was a dressmaker.

She was that too.

She used to work for a famed couturier.

But the future pays more.

She had customers from the High society.

And that blasted Amadieu
wasn't even capable of finding that out.

- Pardon?
- Nothing.

That poor woman! 5:30 and Rue de Picpus
is at the other end of Paris.

- Has something happened to her?
- You'll know tomorrow.

Rue de Picpus and step on it.
Don't stop for anything.

"Today, Friday at 6..."

- Mrs. Dumont please.
- 5th... left.

Again?

You again?
What are you doing here?

Are you coming or going?

I don't know. I was going.
I've been ringing for 5 minutes.

- What time is it?
- Five past six.

- What were you doing here?
- I had an appointment.

- With Sheila?
- You know?

Yes. Too late.

- Are you thinking what I'm thinking?
- Yes.

- Are you going to force the door?
- No, I'm better than that.

- Did you see anyone?
- No.

Come with me.

He... confessed.

Confessed... what did he confess?

Hey... down there!

Wait there!

Get a move on!

Where are you going?

Stay here.

Stabbed in the nape of the neck
like the other one.

Come in!

- Hello!
- What do you want?

First off, speak to me politely.

Don't get smart with me.
What do you want?

- Mr. Maigret.
- He's not here.

- I've got a parcel for him.
- A parcel?

- A handbag.
- Nicked?

- As long as I'm returning it.
- Thanks.

Don't thank me.
I've nothing in common with you.

Tell Maigret it's only because
he is on the case.

Otherwise I'd have tossed it in
the river.

Calm down... where'd you find it?

Lamarck underground station.
In the lift.

- Lamarck? What time was it?
- Noon.

You recognize her.

Yes, that's her.

Don't touch anything.

Have you phoned?
Are they coming?

Dr Pierre should already be here.

Watch him for me.

Dining room 10 by 10...
kitchen...

Nothing.

Washroom.

Nothing.

That's the kitchen.

What's this?

Who's there?

- It's me chief.
- Not you, you idiot... in here.

Take it easy.

Open up! Open up!

I can't open. I'm locked in.

- Shall I fetch a locksmith?
- No.

What are you doing there?

Who are you?

- What are you doing there? Are you deaf?
- No.

- Your lD?
- My ID?

Gently with him...
you can see he's old.

- You can go back.
- All right, chief.

Yves Le Cloaguen... Doctor.

- Is that you?
- Yes.

Yves Le Cloaguen...
Retired navy doctor.

A doctor? Why not?

- What were you doing here?
- I? I'm mad.

You're a good comedian
but I'm not impressed.

No, I'm really insane.

You know what happened?
Mrs. Dumont's been murdered.

- Sheila the clairvoyant.
- Jeanne?

You call her Jeanne.

- Is she dead?
- No, she's been taken away.

But what were you doing meanwhile?

Wait! Wait! Ah yes...

My memory's like venetian blinds

there are holes.

Ah yes... I came to see her.

The bell rang twice...

Then...

Then she pushed me

into the kitchen
and told me to wait.

Then she locked the door.

And I smoked a cigarette.

Where's the butt?

- Where do you live?
- Boulevard des Batignolles.

It's written there. Number 136.

It is... Alone?

No.

- With your wife?
- Yes.

Did she know of your visits
to Mrs. Dumont?

She wasn't.

You look like a kid caught in the act.
Old as you are, you're free.

- Mr. Maigret, the doctor's there.
- Show him in.

- Come, I'll take you home.
- Home?

Well certainly not to the Pope's.

How do you do, Doctor.
I hope you weren't having dinner.

- I hear that she is not dead.
- You talk like a vulture.

I want you to examine the wound.

Stabbed in the back of the neck
like the other one.

Meet a colleague..
Dr Le Cloaguen.

- Pleased to meet you.
- Excuse me... I'm mad.

- The more the merrier.
- Indeed.

Find the murder weapon
and the key to the kitchen.

- Excuse me, Inspector...
- What?

- Will that last long. Can I go home?
- No.

Come on... We'll take you home.

He's a bit nuttier than you
but not much. Watch out!

- Is it here?
- I don't know.

You're home, pal, home.
Don't you recognize it?

- My God...
- Are you scared of something?

- Pay no attention... l'm crazy.
- Not that much. What floor are you on?

- On the 5th.
- No elevator of course?

No.

Let he who is without sin
cast the first stone. Come on!

- There?
- Yes.

Don't pull such a face.

You aren't at the police station.
You're at home. Hear me? Home.

What is it?

- I'm taking the doctor back home.
- An accident?

- No. Police.
- Jesus!

- Is she your wife?
- No it's Marie.

- The maid?
- Yes.

- What are you doing?
- The parquet floor.

What's all this about?
You're the police?

Inspector Maigret.

A murder has been committed
rue de Picpus at a clairvoyant's.

We found your husband locked
in the kitchen.

She's not dead, is she?

What were you doing there?
Answer when you're questioned.

I wasn't questioning.
I am telling the facts.

- Who was that clairvoyant?
- I don't know.

- You don't know!
- Offer the gentleman

- a glass of port.
- You drunkard! You finished it off!

Step forward. Open your mouth.

You've been smoking again!
You can smell tobacco on him.

Go to your room and go to bed!

All right.

Authority is needed. Else...

- I'd like to see his room.
- Please...

He's a poor chap, he is not guilty.
I hope you understand.

I'm sorry, madam.

This is your bedroom?

It's my cabin.

Port! Starboard!

Ready about! Hard rudder!

Full steam! Stop!

Were you a doctor or a captain?

Me? I'm mad.

- Was that yours?
- No.

- No pipe?
- Tobacco...

No... l can't stand tobacco!

- She's not dead, is she?
- No.

- Let him rest Mr...
- Maigret, madam...

Come into the lounge.
We'll be more comfortable.

A poor chap.
You mustn't rush him.

I'll know the truth about that
clairvoyant and I'll tell you.

- Please sit down.
- Thank you.

- You already know something, don't you?
- Me?

I got the feeling
when I was telling what happened

that you were expecting something,
something much worse.

You never know with him.
It's been hard for me...

A young woman,
with all her illusions as I was.

Then the inconsistency of seamen,
and then opium.

One day, he had a stroke
You see what's left of him.

A poor maniac.
But never a bad man.

- What is it now?
- It's Mr. Laignan.

How do you do, beautiful lady?

I heard... The police...

- Mr...
- lnspector Maigret.

Laignan, Attorney...
passing through Paris.

Lawyer to the Le Cloaguen family.
What's going on?

- Nothing serious I guess?
- I hope not. Sit down.

Can you imagine?
Yves was involved in a tragedy.

He was at a clairvoyant's,
locked inside the kitchen.

How and why... I still don't know.

The clairvoyant has been killed
and my poor Yves

is now a suspect.

Let me tell you, Inspector,
that my old customer and friend,

Yves Le Cloaguen, is quite incapable
of committing such evil deed.

I'm sure, Mr. Maigret, you'll clear
him quite soon.

Mr. Laignan since chance has
brought us together,

may I have a word
in private with you?

- Am I not wanted?
- No madam,

but if you have something to do,
now seems the right time.

What's their money situation?

Very good.

Every year I come to Paris to give them
an annuity of 200,000 francs.

These visits to them
are a holiday for me

an opportunity to enjoy the capital...
always so heady.

I fear, alas, that this time...

- What is this annuity?
- You don't know?

Of course, silly of me,
You haven't had time to know.

Quite a romantic story.
Do you want a cigarette?

Thank you, I only smoke the pipe.

25 years ago, Le Cloaguen was the doctor
on board a passenger ship

in the China seas.

A yellow fever epidemic
broke out on board.

He was totally devoted to the task

and stopped the outbreak in its tracks.

- May I?
- Thank you.

He saved the life of a rich
Argentine woman,

yes, one Lopez Diaz.

And in appreciation, her father,

who was into guano, or something,

bequeathed Le Cloaguen
an annuity of 200,000 francs.

Nobody smokes here.
That's all they have for an ashtray.

He retired to the country,
where I met him,

but 10 years ago, after that stroke
which weakened him so much,

they settled in Paris.
That's it!

And your opinion

- as to the murder?
- I say again, lnspector,

he's quite incapable
of such a dark deed.

The poor man, you saw it,
is tormented by his wife.

She's at a critical age
which manifested itself

by a surprising complex of authority
and cupidity.

Someone rang at he door.

What about her?
Could she be guilty?

God, no'...poor woman...
she's no Lady Macbeth.

Her excess is limited to
tightening the purse strings.

Someone's here for you.

- Hello, Lucas, something new?
- You guessed right.

The handbag had been stolen.
I got it back.

I know who she is.
She's a freelance apartment-broker.

An apartment broker, very interesting.

Sorry, I took you for Monsieur Vergne.

- From the research section. Sorry.
- No harm done.

- On the contrary. Thanks Lucas.
- What for, boss?

- You've just given me an idea.
- What idea?

I think the clairvoyant has been
murdered twice.

Yes, boss, the clairvoyant
has been murdered twice.

The murderer did not know her,
rue Laurentin, he made a mistake.

Here's what happened.

The unfortunate apartment-broker
gets off the metro at Lamarck station.

In the elevator,
her bag is snatched.

She was probably going to
report it at the police station,

when in front of 53, Rue Durantin
she saw a removal van.

She sees a business opportunity...
The concierge isn't there.

She gets inside, goes up.
In the staircase, she meets...

Arnaud de Bédarieu,
the so-called novelist.

She asks him for the time.

Her watch was in her bag.
That's very important.

The apartment door
is half-open... like this.

The killer is there...
he doesn't know her.

He assumes she is Mrs. Dumont.
He kills her.

Suddenly he notices that, across the
street, the blind man is looking at him.

He panics... he shoots.

But he doesn't want the body
found right away.

He takes it

stuffs it into the wardrobe

shuts the door...
and pockets the key.

The next day, from the papers,

he sees he's made a mistake.
He starts again.

- And this time he succeeds.
- Yes, that's an ingenious theory.

But why did he tell the press?

"Today, Friday at 6 p.m.
I'll kill the clairvoyant."

- "Signed: Picpus"
- To tell the truth, it worries me.

It seems to show a form of madness,
ideas about his importance.

A nutter? Le Cloaguen...

- You should have arrested him.
- No!

I'm too weak with you, Maigret.
You only do as you please.

I wonder what she meant by her
"He confessed"

I was going to ask you that.
Who confessed?

- And what did he confess?
- I'm not the clairvoyant.

Your pacing up and down
gets on my nerves!

- No way of questioning her?
- She's in a coma.

- At Picpus hospital?
- Picpus! Picpus! Picpus!

I'm fed up with that word.

It haunts me.
It's going to be the word of the day.

They say the taxi drivers are
already full of it..."Picpus".

We must arrest someone.

Call Amadieu..
He'll arrest the movers.

And why not?

Boss, if you accept my reasoning

about the killer making a mistake,

the movers can't be guilty.
They knew Mrs. Dumont.

- What about your Be be be...
- Bédarieu, the second-rate writer?

Same reasoning. I released him.

- He knew the clairvoyant?
- Good... he's confessed it all.

That writer of stories of imagination
had none.

He came to her, she told him
her customers' stories

and it gave him material
for his novels.

Very nice but it doesn't give us
a guilty party.

No, boss, that's even going
to give us another murder.

- What?
- Yes.

Hello... It's for you.

I've been all over Rue Biot

and eventually found the house.

Nobody's seen him
back at his place.

Is he with you? No?

That's very impressive.
What shall I do?

Come back.

- Well?
- I'm listening...

I want to hear what's going on.

Someone came to see me
this afternoon.

Honoré Mascouvin. He told me of a murder
which subsequently happened.

Mascouvin seemed
to be afraid of something.

He should have come back
here this evening.

He's not here. He won't come back.

I get It. You were had.

- Me?
- Yes, you Maigret

king of the inspired hunch...
someone's playing games with you.

I understand it all.
He wrote that message.

He sent it to Paris-Soir.

That cock and bull story.

- Those are my thoughts exactly.
- So... 7.

He got you into the café
to point you to Rue Durantin,

and meanwhile, he went rue Picpus
and killed the clairvoyant.

- And now he's vanished.
- No, no.

- Why not?
- No.

You'll tell me no until kingdom come.
Another Maigret hunch?

- Yes.
- Anyway, do what it takes to find and bring him in.

I'll get a confession
out of your Mascouvin.

OK, boss.

- What do YOU think?
- Nothing.

Where are you going?

In front of a map of Paris.

You're making fun of me?

- What will you do there?
- Wait for Mascouvin.

"Rue des Bon-Enfants: A drunkard."

Aren't you tired of walking, boss?

"Ballu: A brawl!"
"Place Blanche: Razor attack."

"A death: Alberto Constantini"
"One wounded: Paolini."

"Killer arrested: Jules Bernasconi, 32."

"St-Philippe-du-Roule:
A suicide... by gas."

"Eugénie Fierat, 27."

"Jules-Joffrin: Accident."

"Adele Flamand: Knocked down
by hit-and-run cyclist."

"Number 27-23-R8.
Adéle Flamand, 68."

Maybe it won't happen
tonight, boss.

I feel as if I had received
a letter up here

telling me:
"Mascouvin will be murdered".

"Saints-Péres: Chimney fire.
17 Rue Bonaparte."

Will this never end?

Do you remember
what he was saying?

About doing nothing about a crime
that you knew was going to happen.

"Place Voltaire: A drunkard."

That one's right:
That's the best thing to do.

When I eat...

I don't know about you,
but nothing impresses me.

"Arsenal: Accident..."

"Honoré Mascouvin,
fallen from the bridge."

"Struck a pillar.
Fractured skull."

Dead. Honoré Mascouvin, 42.

"Signed: Picpus."

- Good morning.
- Good morning. Can I help you?

- Is Mr. Mascouvin in?
- He's not here.

Could I see the person
who fills in for him?

Just a moment.

- Good morning, miss.
- Good morning, sir.

You want to see Mr. Mascouvin?
What is it about?

- Can we talk in private?
- Certainly.

Your firm was recommended to me.
A friend of mine.

Really? Sit down.

I need some advice.

I have some money.
A small sum but yet...

Do you have anything
that might interest me?

Do you find this comedy amusing?

You're police. What do you want?

- How did you guess?
- A hunch.

You too? You're charming!

- Is that why you came?
- No.?

What's your name?

- Berthe.
- Miss Berthe...

We received a complaint.

You're not surprised?

Nothing surprises me.
I'm listening.

1000 francs are missing.

I wouldn't become a thief
for 1000 francs.

Who said you are accused?
There's only Mr. Mascouvin and I are

lt's about Mr. Mascouvin.

What are you telling me?
That he'd steal from himself?

- He is the manager?
- Yes.

- There's no other boss?
- Yes, but we never see him.

Like the Good Lord,
he's far away, high in the sky.

He doesn't care about us.
I don't even know him.

He leaves you here to look after
his little blackmail business.

- Excuse me...
- I have my information.

You were also a private detective.
Who was handling that?

- Mr. Mascouvin will answer.
- No he won't.

- Why.
- Because he is dead.

- Dead? An accident?
- Maybe.

He was found under a bridge.
With a fractured skull.

What do you think of it?

What do you want me to think?
I feel sad.

- A heartache?
- It's none of your business.

I'm here because I'm interested
in Mascouvin. So help me.

Do your job. I'm not a cop.

Sure, but you liked Mascouvin.

So help me.
What do you know about him?

Not much.
He didn't talk much about himself.

- He'd rather talk about his friends.
- You certainly didn't know him!

Help me to know him better.
Have you got a picture of him?

Yes.

Poor Mascouvin...
he was a strange guy.

He looked after his disabled sister
whom provided for.

He was a nice man.
But always anxious, worried.

He managed this business consultancy
and had some scruples.

He was basically honest.

Do you think he was capable
of killing someone?

He wouldn't kill a fly.

Here we are.

- That's him?
- Yes.

- He hasn't got his eyeglass.
- Eyeglass? He didn't wear one.

When I saw him yesterday, he had one.

He liked to disguise so much.

Here, we were also
a private detective agency.

You see all those books there

they're all whodunits.

Now I understand everything.

- What do you understand?
- Picpus.

I'll show you his cupboard.

- How do I look?
- It's an improvement.

Thank you. You're too kind.

I have one more question.

- Do you know Dr Le Cloaguen?
- No.

Do you know if Mr. Mascouvin
was seeing a clairvoyant?

No. But I've only been here a year.

- I'll check your files.
- The store-room's full of them.

Miss Berthe...

- What is it?
- A gentleman

- wants to talk to Mr. Mascouvin.
- Who is he?

He didn't give a name.
A weird little man.

Have him come in.
I'm going to look at the files.

Make yourself at home.

You wanted to see Mr. Mascouvin?

Yes, Mascouvin.
It's personal and confidential.

- Mascouvin.
- I'm sorry that won't be possible.

It's very important.
I really need to see him. Need to.

He's the only one who can say it to me.

Sadly...
he can no longer say anything.

- But I want to see him.
- No, you can't.

- He's dead.
- Dead!

Dead? Good Lord...
then I'll be off.

I'll be off.

You said you didn't know him.

- Who?
- The doctor.

No, it's the first time.

Miss Berthe,
you're coming down with me.

We shall follow him.
He has to be followed.

Has that old man ever been here before?

No, never.

Write down any message while I'm gone.

Yes, miss.

Hi fellas,
here are some cigarettes,

and sugar... and chocolate.

Where did I put my chocolate?

Ah... my head, my head...

Ah... Here it is.
And it's a good one.

- Thanks, Emile.
- "Emile"?

- Hello, Mr. Emile.
- Good morning, boss.

So... what will the gentlemen have?

Good brandy for everyone.
I've got some money.

Where did I put my money?

It doesn't matter.
We'll have nothing to drink.

My head...

Ah! Here it is, in my hat!

Under the headgear. Here you are...

One... Two...

Three... Four...

Five... and six.
After that we'll see...

Poor Jeanne. We got on so well.
We were getting used to it.

The police didn't find anything?

A lot of good-for-nothings.
Full of themselves.

To do their job
they'd need two brains.

Most of them haven't got one.

If I was in my right mind,

I could do something sometimes.
Find.

But I must look inside here.
I am so tired.

There are holes as in Swiss cheese.

- What's he doing with that lot?
- Poor old man.

First time someone sitting near you
is interested in something else.

Don't waste your strength.

With my daughter, I've been like
the king in History.

- Which king?
- The king we put on the scaffold.

The executioner asked him
to let him tie his hands.

"'Il grant this favor
but it will be the last."

One day I found myself
in an old people's home.

At first we still defend ourselves.
We cajole, we protest.

Then you lose courage...
and little by little you fade.

That's the fate of the elderly.

The old-age pensioners
ahead of the young.

There it is... the fate of the elderly.

I don't like that...
it makes me thirsty.

- To your health, Emile.
- To your health, Emile.

Cheers!

- Emile...
- You're working out a problem?

Yes. It's my geometry.

But here, the triangles and circles
are alive.

They have hearts and heads.
Must be understood.

The shortest way from
one point to another,

isn't always a straight line.

What's that circle?

It's Mascouvin.

- And that one?
- Le Cloaguen, the old guy behind.

- And that one?
- The clairvoyant who was killed.

When I've found the intersection
of these three circles...

Well?

I'll have found the guilty party.

Bravo.

- You don't seem pleased.
- I am impressed by your genius..

"Impressed." I know.
Where are you going?

- It's late.
- Stay here.

Are you going to keep me
all night?

- I wouldn't dare suggest it.
- I'd better phone.

- Whom to?
- If you're asked...

I may answer that I know who it is.

I doubt it.
Am I allowed to have a private life?

There's no phone here anyway.
Is there, boss?

- Sorry?
- You haven't got a telephone.

"Telephone"? No, sir.
I don't like to be ruled by a ringing.

- A coalman's home is his castle.
- Yes.

And please don't draw on the table.
It can't be rubbed out.

Let me go.
I'll call you at your office.

- Tonight?
- Maybe.

- And your appointment?
- I won't go.

- Poor boy.
- , It's my mother.

Tell her that you won't go home.

Why?

Because I'm arresting you.

- Me?
- Can't take a joke?

I've been waiting for you
for four hours!

And what do you have for me?
Nothing!!

Intuition is quite great
but it gets you nowhere.

Police work is not for altar boys.

We're the laughing stock of the country
with that Picpus.

But I know who it is.

- I'm listening.
- It's Mascouvin.

- The killer?
- No. The letter writer.

He signed "Picpus" because
of the first murder to attract attention.

He wanted to prevent the second one.
He knew the murderer.

But he didn't have time to speak.

Pity you can't make the dead speak.

Since yesterday,
that's all you've found? "Picpus"!

A killer who doesn't exist
and a dead witness.

- I didn't kill him.
- You should have arrested him.

- I feel bad enough about it already.
- You're never arresting anyone.

As far as you're concerned,
all the suspects are angels.

Unfortunately, angels have wings
and they fly away!

- Le Cloaguen?
- Well?

- You didn't arrest him yesterday.
- No.

- Yet, he did it.
- Le Cloaguen?

Yes... his wife phoned us four times,
you hear me?

He's vanished. You hear?
Vanished!

- Do you know what his wife said?
- No.

He's mad. I hope
he won't commit another murder.

You hear me? Another murder.

See what situation you got us into!
I'll have to resign.

- No.
- Why not?

I knew
that Le Cloaguen had vanished.

He's not vanished since this afternoon.

- What?
- It's been a long time.

80, 84, 104, 108,

123 for you.

- What about my tierce?
- That's right.

140 for you.

- Who's winning?
- He does, boss.

His luck is impressive.

Your memory is better for cards
than for the rest.

I'm mad... I didn't kill anyone.

Tell me... how did you stop
that yellow fever epidemic?

It was so long ago.

For a doctor,
it was most glorious moment.

Drugs. All the drugs.

And Miss Lopez Diaz,
what was she like?

- How old was she?
- I can't remember... the brain..

You don't want to answer. Why?

I'm mad.

In the mills, they grind wheat
to make flour.

In the cities, they crush brains
to make madmen.

No, you are not mad.
Who are you? Answer me.

Why do you put up with
that bitching woman,

the polished parquet floor,
the ban on smoking and drinking?

And in the apartment,
the room in the back with a bolt.

I'm a poor guy
who's lost his freedom...

And if I gave you your freedom back,
what would you do with it?

You're scared.

You don't like the police.
You don't want to talk.

So listen to me...

Tonight, a moment ago,

At 7 p.m., Jeanne Dumont
died at Picpus hospital.

You hear me? Died!

Yes, I know,
come on... it's hard.

They all believe you've
been keeping her.

They've got nasty minds.

But I don't think like them.

I knew that she was your daughter.

Lucas... later on,
you might replace me.

Remember me.
Remember how I worked.

Keep the blinkers off.

Don't look at the world
through the toilet window.

- Don't let them...
- lmpressed, boss.

Lucas,
I'm going to try something.

And if it doesn't work,
it could cost me my job.

I won't bother you any longer.
You're free to go.

"Free"?

But if I knew what you know...

I'd avenge my daughter.

Even I were a frail old man.

I'd avenge my daughter.

Give me 500 francs.

But what for, boss?

Where is the exit?

I'll take you downstairs.

- You've got cigarettes, Lucas?
- Yes, boss.

- Go get my matches upstairs.
- Matches?

My matches.

All right. See you, boss.

- Nice evening, eh?
- Very nice.

I forgot my papers.
Hey, Lucas...

Buy Paris-Soir!
Sensational case.

The Picpus case! Buy Paris-Soir!

All we have to do is follow him.

I couldn't tell you earlier.

We followed the old man
all afternoon.

He won't talk.

Now, tell me...
what happened to Mascouvin?

- No names.
- I have the right to know.

I don't know what I must do.
I'll see him again tonight.

Stick with him.
And keep me posted.

If he tries to leave,
hang on to him as to a carriage.

There you are, and please
don't draw on the table.

- It's difficult to rub out.
- Oh, sorry.

- Come here.
- My right profile is the right one.

I'm not interested in yours.

- Thanks.
- 32 francs.

What are you doing? You're late.

I've been running.
He's on the train.

I have the details.

3rd class, carriage 7,
compartment 3.

Janvier is watching.

You know who I saw
on the platform?

- The Pope?
- Course not, boss.

Arnaud de Bédarieu,
the novelist with no stories.

I was so impressed that I let him
disappear behind a luggage trolley.

He won't bother us much longer.

- What do you think, boss?
- Nothing.

Things are getting more complicated.

They're getting better.
I know who it is.

- The killer?
- He is finished.

That's good... I'm starving.
There's a dining car.

- You're not leaving.
- What?

You're staying.

A lot of courage will be needed
before I succeed.

- You'll hear things about me.
- But, boss...

I've got some work for you here.

Here's what you must do.

- I've booked two seats.
- But I am two.

It's a woman?
The one you phoned to earlier?

Don't worry. I've got an idea.

- What do you think?
- Nothing. Waiter!

- Take off your glasses. He's sleeping.
- Right, boss.

- Where are we going?
- I don't know.

You don't know where we're going?

I've got tickets for the terminus
but we may get off before.

No time to get bored, with you!

- I take that as a compliment.
- Pity you're a cop.

'Le Provencal',
every modern convenience.

So, you're coming?

Is Mr. Laignan in?

- No, sir.
- I'll wait for him.

Come in.

Mr. Destac,
someone's asking for Mr. Laignan.

You know that he is not here.

He's an old acquaintance, he said.

- He said his name?
- Yes, Dr Le Cloaguen.

- What's all this about?
- Hello gentlemen. Don't be afraid.

Inspector Maigret.

I'm coming from Paris.
I needed to see you before the visitor.

- Could you tell Mr. Laignan I'm here.
- He's in town.

- Can you get him on the phone?
- It's difficult.

Destac, senior clerk.
Can I help you?

The man who just came in
is convicted of murder.

He is a madman on the run.
Don't do anything.

- If the police...
- You'll talk to him.

- Talk to him?
- Until I'm back with Mr. Laignan.

- If he won't stay?
- Say anything to him.

Bamboozle him. You won't be alone.
I'll get reinforcement.

- Berthe!
- Yes, boss.

Our roads are parting here.
I'll go get Laignan.

You can help these gentlemen
keep the old guy here.

- OK, boss!
- This is your reinforcement... a woman?

But quite a girl.
Where will I find Mr. Laignan?

At the 'Last of the Mohicans'.

It's an archery club.
There's a contest at the Grand Hotel.

Ladies and gentlemen
let me remind you

that this is a charitable event.

Withholding, of course, expenses,
wages and organization details.

Here we live for archery.

Elsewhere they live from hand to mouth.

So buy bouquets, buttonholes,
bows, arrows

and those souvenir headgears
from our charming sales girls.

Having fun is a good deed today and

in the name of those needy families

I give a hearty thank you to you all.

Allow me to introduce the contest

for the most beautiful huntress.

The Stone Age: Miss Frédé.

Woman had strength,
she already had grace.

Coming straight from Mount Olympus...
Diana the Huntress:

Miss Monique Fleury.

The beautiful Indian squaw:

Mlle Fabienne Fontaine,
girl of the north and the cold.

The Amazon of times gone by:
Miss Francoise de la Rale.

The saying would be wrong,

For, with her, he who goes hunting
doesn't lose his place.

1943. Miss Douvec.

She is adorable, being from our time,

and that it's her whom we love.

Now, be ready to shoot.

On my command...

One, two, three!

Buy something from me.

- What could I buy?
- Profits go to the orphans.

A souvenir headdress.
That one will suit you very well.

- What do I owe you?
- Whatever you like.

Here... For the trouble
you'll do me a favor.

Tell Mr. Laignan
I need to talk to him.

- I can't disturb him!
- Give him this card.

While waiting for the result,

we shall start
the gentlemen's contest.

Excuse me, Mr. Laignan.

- Where is he?
- Over there.

Will you fill in for me?

What's going on, Mr. Laignan?
Leaving your posting?

We have a distinguished guest.

Inspector Maigret.

Excuse me.

I'd never had thought I'd see you here
in such circumstances.

Come in here...
it'll be quieter.

This morning I was astounded...

I'm sorry. I'm very sorry.

The arrow just got away.

This is your quiet corner?

In the name of the committee,
please accept our apology

for this most unfortunate incident.

In the name of the Last of the Mohicans,
I apologize.

Yes. Thank you very much.

He took me for a colleague.
Who is this marksman?

Major Boufartigue,
a great pistol shot.

At 50 yards, he can cut a card in two.

He and Le Cloaguen were the champions
of the "Last of the Mohicans".

- He knew Le Cloaguen?
- He knew him indeed.

I even think that he and
Mrs. Le Cloaguen... Well...

Go on.

The secret is not mine
and I hesitate to tell you about it.

- My duty...
- Your duty is to help the law.

Buy some flowers.
For the orphans.

The gentleman is not here
to buy flowers.

Why not? I may have
someone to give them to.

It suits you.

You just need a bow and arrows
to look like Cupid.

- Here are the Graces.
- They're lovely.

Let me leave you
for just a few minutes.

I'll free myself
from my obligations

and we'll continue this conversation.

I'll show you a document
of the utmost importance.

I'll go now. Got things to do.

All right.
In 10 minutes... at my office.

- Would you like a pin?
- Thank you.

Just what I need.
I've got to buy sewing material.

- Here you are, ladies.
- Thank you.

- What's wrong?
- The old gentleman has left.

- Left?
- My brother?

- The young woman?
- She left too. We couldn't stop him.

- Laignan's there?
- No, sir, he'll be here in 15 minutes.

You know where Le Cloaguen went?

To La Marjolaine. He asked
for the keys. We had to give them.

- "La Marjolaine"?
- It's my brother's old house.

- It's horrible!
- What is?

A knife is missing from the lounge.

- Where's La Marjolaine?
- I'll take you there.

That's it.

Did you see someone come in here?

An old man and a young woman.

- What?
- An old man and a young woman.

Ah yes. The house is abandoned.

But since last night
there's been a light shining.

It's not natural.

The poor guy is stone deaf.
I'd rather you stayed here.

- Do you think I am a weak little woman?
- No.

Isn't it a shame.
It was such a beautiful house.

Look at the furniture.

This armchair...
I don't even have one.

She was avaricious, nasty.
She...

It's my brother.
It's a bad omen.

You're superstitious?
He's changed a lot.

- What's that?
- The cellar.

Not so fast.

I don't want
to break one of my old legs.

The best in the area.
Carved out in the rock.

Wine keeps there very nicely.

But she didn't like wine.
She didn't like anything at all.

Except polish for her parquet floor.

Yves Le Cloaguen, I arrest you.

- Yves?
- That's not possible.

This is not my brother.
This isn't Yves.

No, it's not your brother.

Meet Emile Dumont,

who's being playing the part
of your brother for 10 years.

Well it's over. You've got to talk.
By the way, where's Berthe?

- Berthe?
- The young woman who was with you.

I'm mad but
I haven't killed anyone.

What are you doing here?

- Le Cloaguen.
- You've killed him?

- No. But I found him.
- You found him? Where?

There.

Oh, my God... My poor brother!

Start talking.

Dr Le Cloaguen died
ten years ago and...

- Yves.
- Yes, madam.

It was a blow for the widow

who'd always been avaricious.
You know her.

The 200000 francs annuity
was paid to the doctor personally.

- So?
- So?

There was a tramp in Cannes.

It was me, Emile Dumont.

They said
I looked like the doctor a lot.

I was hired to play his part.

I was to have a peaceful life,

enough to eat, smoke and drink.

So that I wouldn't be recognized,
we moved to Paris.

The old woman feared that
I'd make a mistake

and spill the beans.

She kept me locked up.

You know, the bedroom
at the back, with the bolt.

She hated me.

Dumont, you know who killed
your daughter.

You came to do justice yourself.

Tell me who it is. It's safer.

It's...

Hands up, Mr. Maigret!

Turn around.

Move away, madam.

Not bad, Mr. Maigret.
You've seen

- things quite clearly.
- Even though it's dark in here.

If you showed your face,
I'd be enlightened.

- You're being witty.
- I do reports too

in which I write my findings.

They're in my office in Paris.

I think I've left
a clear picture indeed.

And about Berthe?
You've got a clear picture too?

About Berthe? So I wasn't wrong.

I still hope for her sake she
didn't know everything.

That you killed Mascouvin,
her half-brother.

- Mascouvin?
- That's enough.

- Bitch!
- Let go of me!

Throw down your revolver,
Mr. Maigret.

You bastard.

Hands up!

Against the wall.

What's going to happen?

Maigret... Tell me what you have
in your report.

That's my secret.

As you are about to be acquainted
with those in the hereafter

it's pointless to start
making with mysteries.

What was there in the report?

As I said, I'll carry my secrets
to the grave.

What do you know? Speak.

- Everything.
- I'm listening.

You were the wife's lover.
You killed the husband.

He was retired forever.
Then you replaced him

with poor Emile Dumont.

- After?
- After?

After?

In Paris you started
a blackmail boutique,

disguised as a business consultancy.

An employee of yours,
Honoré Mascouvin,

served as your front man.

You used information
from a clairvoyant, Jeanne Dumont

you were given
her customer's confidences.

Unfortunately for you,
she found her old father.

She threatened to tell everything.

Your 200,000 francs swindle.
And your name.

That's why you killed her.

Mascouvin knew about it.

And you killed him because
he was trying to tell us.

Poor old thing.

As for you, my little Berthe,

I hope you can find a good lawyer.

I forgot... Here.
I had bought this for you.

- You're too kind.
- Like a prison gate.

- Hands up!
- What do you want?

Mr. Maigret...
I wanted to give you a hand.

Kind of you.
You turn up when it's all over.

What are you doing here?

- I...
- I will tell you.

I just got it in punches.

You knew about my novel?

Yes. And it won't cost you
any gray cells.

I didn't spot you looking like
a conspirator, making mocking remarks,

your open newspapers
and the shoe laces you tie...

- You recognized me?
- You're lucky I was in charge.

Had it been Amadieu, you'd have
been cut off as a murderer.

- You arrested him?
- Whom? Amadieu?

- The killer.
- Come and see.

You remember we were there
when Jeanne Dumont

said a few words.

"Il a avoué - he confessed."

What she was trying to say was:
"C'est I'avoué" - it's the lawyer.

So Mr. 'Lawyer'...
do you 'confess'?

You killed the doctor,
the broker, the blind man,

Jeanne Dumont, Mascouvin
and now poor old Emile.

You win, Mr. Maigret.
The race is over.

Signed: "Picpus."

- I was right.
Knit one, purl one.

Go 15 rows and reverse.

In the end it's simple.

Knitting a sleeve?
No. The Picpus case.

It was easy for Maigret.
I'd love to see his face.

He doesn't want his picture
in the papers.

Is that possible?
He must look like a monster.

Wait.

Mr. Albert, could I borrow your paper?

Boss...

What?

It was impressive.

Original Subtitles: FatPlank
remade by shakill/cinephage.

Remade by shakill/cinephage.