Original subtitles

Hey. 'Hi. Where are you?'

I'm on my way. Wish me luck.

You'll be fine.

'Lucien...' Oh, shit.

You still there?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Erm... I'll let you know how it goes.

Hello?

Is someone there?

Jean-Claude? Is that you?

What the hell are you doing here?

I'll have the plat du jour.

Maman, you don't even know what it is.

People pay too much attention to food these days.

So, you've gone over to the enemy, I see.

Sorry? The police.

I'm surprised you didn't call them the pigs.

And I haven't joined them, I've been seconded.

Stop splitting hairs. As a criminal psychologist.

And by the way, you didn't moan about the police

when they came at 3am after you'd been burgled.

You were rather keen on them then. What about your university pension?

I'm still there one day a week. Can we move on?

When you sell your soul to the devil. Zip it, Florence.

Honestly, if you could bottle family tension,

you could sell it as a weapon of mass destruction.

Sorry, everyone. Train massively delayed.

How was your mother?

When she said she'd had a bad reaction to a general anaesthetic,

I assumed she'd had a heart transplant at the very least.

What she'd actually had was her fourth face-lift.

She's 87, it should be illegal. How does she look?

Like a mummified Jackie Onassis.

You think that's what she was aiming for?

She's sitting up in bed in giant sunglasses

with a cashmere shawl round her, eating foie gras on Melba toast,

because, "It's all I can manage."

I can't tell you what a relief it is

to escape from my mother's hideous Parisian mausoleum.

Oh, sorry.

Will you excuse me a moment?

Hello?

Do you get on with your mother, Sylvie?

Well, she's dead, but I suppose so, yeah.

Did you tell her you loved her all the time?

Oh, God! No.

We're in a sentimental age now, though, aren't we?

You have to say it every five minutes.

It reduces human complexity to the level of a greetings card.

That was Helene.

You knew Etienne de Bremont, didn't you?

That past tense is worrying me.

He's been found dead at the chateau. Jesus!

We used to play together as kids. What happened to him?

They don't know yet. Possible suicide. What?!

The aristocracy are famously unstable.

It's the inbreeding.

Bereavement counselling. There's a career opportunity you missed.

Anyway...

Sorry to break up the party, but, er,

I've been summoned to the chateau,

and they'd like you there too, Marine.

OK.

Will this be your first job together?

Yes, I, er, suppose it will.

I met Etienne and his brother Lucien at the kids' drama group.

Seriously posh.

God, in my mind, their chateau was huge.

It's much smaller than I remember.

And in much worse nick.

We're all in much worse nick than we were 40 years ago.

Etienne was still pretty dapper, though, don't you think?

I only met him the once, when he interviewed me for his film.

He seemed... charming. Mm.

He was famous for it. Although it has to be said,

man makes major documentary about organised crime on the Cote d'Azur,

18 months later, found dead, alarm bells do ring.

He was always the golden boy of that family,

he kind of ran at life and scooped it up.

People adored him.

Not an obvious candidate for suicide, then.

Who knows what life's thrown at him? What about Lucien?

He was always in trouble when we were kids.

That much I remember.

Ah, wayward younger brother syndrome.

He now hangs out in Cannes

and plays polo, apparently. What does he live on?

Oh, you know these people.

They say they're broke but they never are.

There's always a house here, an inheritance there,

an unexpected Tintoretto in the attic.

So we are treating it as a crime scene, then?

Yeah.

There's no obvious explanation as to what happened.

What you got there?

Found not far from the body.

Oh, that's Etienne!

And his brother Lucien, and that is Jean-Claude Faraud.

The boys grew up here together.

Jean-Claude's mother was the housekeeper,

and his father looked after the grounds,

but I think he's dead now and Jean-Claude is the caretaker.

He was the one who found him. Spoken to him yet?

He says he wasn't here last night, he was at his sister's in Cotignac.

What about the wife? At their apartment in Aix.

She says he came out here yesterday to work on his new film.

No note? Nothing so far.

We found his briefcase in the hallway.

Wallet's intact, laptop still there.

Phone? No sign of it yet.

One theory is he fell out whilst he was securing the shutters.

How likely is that?

Well, it's a theory.

What do you really think?

Well, if it was some regular guy,

they'd possibly say suicide and move on.

But you know, posh, bit famous, knows all the right people,

let's look like we're doing something.

He did make that film recently. Yeah.

That's the one thing that gives me pause.

Look.

What's that there by the tree?

Hey.

Hello?

Certainly wasn't Etienne's.

This is the cheapest whisky you can buy. Gut rot.

And who buys a bottle that size? Children and alcoholics.

And that.

The pathologist says the major trauma was to the front of the body.

But he was found on his back.

Someone turned him over.

Probably not looking at suicide, then.

More like murder, wouldn't you say?

So, this caretaker's cottage used to be the orangery.

Jean-Claude.

Are you OK? Yeah. Yeah.

It's really shaken me up.

Just can't think how it...

What do they think happened?

Well, that's what we're here to find out.

Sorry.

Fire away, Judge. Tell me what you wanna know.

You weren't here last night, is that correct?

I was at my sister Cosette's place in Cotignac.

You remember Cosette, Marine? Yes, of course I do.

How is she? She's good.

She cooked me a daube of beef, she does it a special way,

white wine. Mmm!

You stayed the night? Yeah.

It's too far to drive back if you've had a couple of glasses of wine.

Do you drink much? Sorry?

No, I, er... Just the normal amount.

What about Monsieur de Bremont?

Are you asking me if the Count fell out of the window pissed?

No. I've never seen him drunk in my life.

Did he smoke? Years ago. Everyone did back then.

So it's mostly just you here, Jean-Claude?

Does anyone else come and go?

It's just me now. There was a gardener or two,

but no-one can afford the upkeep on places like this any more.

Did Monsieur de Bremont ever talk to you about that sort of thing?

What, money?

Nah. That's not the sort of thing he'd share with me.

OK.

So, yesterday evening, you ate a daube of beef with your sister...

then what?

Watched a bit of TV, that was it, really.

What did you watch?

Think it was one of those Jason Bourne things.

Oh, I love those films! Was it the one...

where he's chilling in Goa, and then suddenly all hell breaks loose?

I can't remember.

I fell asleep, to be honest,

and then I woke up on the sofa at 3am with a stiff neck.

When did you get back here? Around eight this morning.

I had some watering to do.

When I saw the shutters open on the first floor...

No-one really goes up there any more, it's just used for storage.

And I walked over and...

..and I found the Count.

He was, er...

He was very...

He was clearly dead.

How was he lying?

On his back.

Did you touch him at all?

No. No.

Do you know if he had any enemies? Not that I'm aware of.

He was, well...

He was very charming, as you know, Marine.

Did you like him?

I've known him all my life. I've known my mother all my life,

but it would be a bit of a stretch to say I liked her.

I grew up with this family.

They're important to me.

But, well... Lucien, the Count's brother,

you could have a drink with him, you know?

Do you... remember this photo, Jean-Claude?

No. Where did you get it? Can you think of any reason

why Etienne may have been looking for it?

Was he? Possibly.

I've no idea why he'd want it. It's just the two brothers and...

me, looking out of things, as usual.

Meaning?

Their parents owned the place, and I was just the son of the hired help.

Did you feel resentful about that? No. No.

I think I'd have been resentful. Judge, if I felt resentful

for every slight I've received over the course of my life,

I'd never get out of bed in the morning.

We got on well, we played together every day.

Well, voila.

I said it.

It was lovely seeing Jean-Claude again, I've always liked him,

but I'd definitely say... He's hiding something.

That photo certainly threw him. He had seen it before, hadn't he?

Recently. That's my thought, yeah.

But I had no idea you were so keen on Jason Bourne films.

I saw it in last night's TV listings.

I guessed the bit about all hell breaking loose,

but I thought at least he'd remember the Goa bit,

but apparently not. Oh, getting a bit "detectory" there.

Is that a word? No.

Anyway, first he mentions he watched the film,

and then he claims he can't remember what happened

because he fell asleep. Almost as soon as it started.

OK, maybe Etienne falls out of the window.

Next morning, Jean-Claude finds him, turns the body over,

realises he's dead and calls the police.

So why didn't he tell us that?

Jean-Claude, how are you doing?

Do you need me to come over? 'No, Cosette.'

You've got work. I'm OK.

Was it you who found him? Yeah. Yeah, it was.

God, what can I do? Nothing.

I've got some stuff to do right now, OK?

I'll call you if I need you.

We'll talk later. 'OK. Bye.'

Still no sign of Etienne's phone.

We know he had it with him because he called his wife Isabelle

en route to the chateau.

That was the last time it was used.

This has been going on all morning.

This is a judge's office, not a storage depot!

You think they'd understand that, wouldn't you?

I think they're converting the space next door into a new IT room.

But why do they have to dump their crap in here?!

Antoine, look at the size of this place.

Are those boxes actually causing you any problems?

Yes! They're upsetting me.

Aesthetically. And people in Syria think they've got problems!

Yes, yes, all right, all right.

Let's start with Etienne's wife. What do we know?

Old school chic.

Probably hasn't eaten a carb since 1985.

Your mother would love her. Anything to gain by his death?

His half of a chateau that's a financial liability.

And Lucien, the brother, owns the other half.

Mm. Have we found him yet?

He's been informed.

He was on a yacht moored off Corsica,

owned by Lever Pogarovsky.

And he is? A Russian national.

Massively rich, money comes from oil and gas, supposedly.

Interesting friend for Lucien.

All right, let's get out of here.

Etienne makes a film about organised crime on the south coast,

ends up dead. Meanwhile...

His brother's on a yacht with a dodgy Russian oligarch.

Exactly. Check out that connection, Helene,

it may have a bearing on our case.

What else do we know about Pogarovsky?

His finances are opaque, put it that way.

Course they are. Any bad blood between the brothers?

Well, they didn't get on as kids, but that was 40 years ago.

Etienne was always the golden boy and Lucien, the screw-up.

Let's talk to Lucien ASAP. Can you sort that, Helene?

Oh, and check out that alibi with Jean-Claude's sister,

there's something off about it

and I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

"Multiple injuries...

"Cause of death: external fracture leading to blunt cardiac trauma."

Poor bastard. You knew both brothers, Marine,

what else was Etienne, apart from charming?

When they were kids, Lucien used to bully him.

Lucien was bigger even though he was younger,

and they kind of fell into roles.

Etienne was the good, clever, charming one,

which was probably a bit of a strain,

and Lucien was the tearaway.

I think Etienne played the charm role for the rest of his life.

But it wasn't the real him?

Well, charm's also a protective thing, isn't it?

I mean, it's there in the word.

God, I never thought of that. Years ago,

I saw Etienne with a black eye. He said Lucien did it.

But the adult Etienne hated to look weak

and he hated weakness in other people.

Interesting. And his crime documentary,

if you think about it,

was about the kind of men who also hated to look weak.

Let's talk to his producer, Helene.

Maybe Etienne crossed someone,

may be asked questions he shouldn't have asked.

Time for me to pay my respects to the grieving widow.

What can I tell you?

My husband went up to the chateau and now he's dead.

Voila. Must accept it as... God's will.

I'm not sure it was actually God's will.

Well, it wasn't suicide, I can assure you that.

He loved his family, he had no worries.

I'm not suggesting... He just secured seed funding

for his new film. Life was good.

It was obviously a terrible accident.

But how?

Madame de Bremont, your husband was murdered.

No.

That...

Are you sure?

Pretty sure.

Are you aware that he had any enemies?

Well, are you?

No. No, of course he didn't.

I do need to ask you a few questions, Madame de Bremont,

I'm sorry. Yes.

Yes, of course.

I'm sorry. Do you mind?

Not at all.

I see you have some Domaine Nagel there.

Excellent wine.

Yes, my husband bought most of our wine from there.

So, on Saturday...

around 4:30pm,

your husband went up to the chateau. Why didn't you go with him?

We have four children.

He needed a few days' peace and quiet

to concentrate on his work.

Saturday night, you stayed here?

Yes.

The children stayed overnight with my parents,

it was their village fete.

How do you do? Madame.

I'm Beatrice, Isabelle's sister.

They're saying he was murdered, Beatrice.

Oh, I feel so...

I think she needs a break, Judge.

Is there anything else we can help you with?

There will be, but not today.

I'm very sorry for your loss, madame. Yes.

Is Madame de Bremont going away anywhere?

No, that's mine.

It has her initials on it.

I know.

She gave it to me ages ago, I keep meaning to have them removed.

I see.

Thank you, madame.

She says she didn't leave the house on Saturday night.

But there was a packed overnight bag in the hallway

as if she was going somewhere or just got back.

The sister claims it's hers but I'm not convinced.

What, what is it?

The de Bremont car was picked up by a speed camera

on the A7 northbound, just south of Avignon,

at eight o'clock on Saturday night.

When, according to the pathologist, he was already dead,

and his wife claims she was at home.

So, who was driving their car?

Oh, you're back.

How was Scotland? Bracing.

I'm just on my way back from a meeting with the prosecutor.

Apparently Lucien de Bremont's in the building. Did you know?

Oh, good. I wasn't expecting him until later.

And, er...

Well, I'm not sure how to say this, Judge...

Take the plunge, Francois.

I've had the de Bremont family on the phone,

asking us to deal with all this as discreetly as possible.

Meaning?

Look, they're in shock.

They would be. A family member's been murdered.

They're worried about the media.

I mean, this sort of thing, well...

I've met them at functions and they're extremely civilised people.

God Almighty, Francois, what is it with you and aristos?

They don't avoid misfortune

because their great, great, great grandfather

held Louis XVI's chamber pot for him.

Did he?

Madame de Bremont,

it's Deputy Commissioner Paulik again.

Please call me as soon as you can.

So, on Saturday evening, Monsieur de Bremont,

you had supper with friends in a restaurant in Juan-les-Pins.

What time was that?

Early. Erm, around seven?

They'll be able to confirm that, will they? Yeah.

Do you live alone?

No, I share a flat with a guy who's a chef.

Can he confirm your whereabouts on Saturday night?

He was at work.

I'm not sure I told him where I was going.

So, after dinner we went for drinks

and then later I went out on Monsieur Pogarovsky's yacht.

He's also a friend?

Well, I kind of work for him.

Kind of? His wife, Maria,

runs the Tribeca Model Agency in Cannes.

I own a couple of rental apartments there.

A lot of their girls come from Russia, Ukraine,

so that's where they stay.

I settle them in, make sure they're OK,

show them around, that sort of thing.

And that's how you make your living.

Yeah, I guess.

How does Monsieur Pogarovsky make his living?

He's a businessman.

And what is his business?

I'm not really sure, most of it's in Russia.

You play polo, I've heard. Expensive hobby.

Yeah.

No, well, that's why I gave it up. When?

About six months ago.

Even so, how did you afford it in the first place?

Or maybe Monsieur Pogarovsky helped you out?

No, of course he didn't.

What does any of this have to do with Etienne's death?

Were you close to your brother?

Yeah, we got on fine.

He inherited our father's charm. I was the problematical one.

Oh, that must have been tricky for you.

Hm! What, being second best?

Your words, not mine. When did you last see him?

I don't know, a month ago.

I was leaving the chateau as he arrived.

We had a brief chat about... nothing much.

Was he the sort of person who might have enemies?

There was more to Etienne than met the eye.

Care to elaborate?

He could be ruthless, put it that way.

About what?

He just...

..he always got his own way.

Until now.

Yeah, until now.

It's that Paulik woman.

It'll be that wretched speeding ticket.

I'll deal with it.

Hello, Isabelle's phone.

Here. Thank you, Didier.

Ah, so...

Etienne de Bremont, WT actual F?

I know. It's pretty shocking.

He was one of my best customers.

Spent a fortune on art and photography books so...

I kind of assumed they had loads of money.

Did they?

Land rich, cash poor. I think that's what they were.

Although, when I say poor... Ha! Yeah. It's all relative.

So, anyway, this is what I wanted to tell you.

He was in with his wife about... ten days ago

and they had this huge row behind the travel section.

What about? Money.

She kept saying,

"But if they make an offer,

"we're not in a position to turn it down. We're broke, Etienne.

"We'll have to let the housekeeper go."

Hm! Can you imagine! And he kept going,

icy calm, you know, "I don't wish to discuss it."

And she kept going, "Why, why?"

And then he said, "The matter is closed."

And he walked up to the counter and paid for his books

while she stood behind him, seething silently.

I thought, well, the gloss has certainly gone off this marriage.

So, anyway, yes, it was me.

I borrowed Isabelle's car to go to a private viewing in Avignon.

'I was in a bit of a rush and, erm... well, you know the rest.'

What was the private view?

Er, it was a friend of mine,

a gallery just off Rue Joseph Fernex.

I can't remember the name of it.

'I can get back to you with it.' I'd be grateful if you could.

'You have my number.' Yes, I do.

I explained.

Thank you.

How did it go with Lucien?

I don't think there was much love lost between him and Etienne.

No change there, then.

He said Etienne was ruthless. Hm...

Was he?

I wouldn't be astonished, put it that way.

Oh, incidentally, they were broke.

I spoke to Didier earlier.

He heard them having a massive argument in his shop about money.

I think I need to talk to Jean-Claude Faraud again.

Because that photo clearly rattled him.

Let's take another look in that room at the chateau.

I think Etienne was looking for something up there.

Jean-Claude knows what it was.

Oh, at last.

I got here as quickly as I could.

I suppose you've spoken to the police?

And the judge, yes.

How are you coping?

This helps.

I don't think we should do anything for at least three months.

It'll look bad.

Now is not the time.

People will talk.

Does that matter?

Patience is a virtue.

So he was making the de Bremonts an offer they couldn't refuse?

And what was it for? This place, maybe?

We just thought we'd take another look at that junk room.

We think Etienne may have been looking for something there.

Have you any idea what that might have been?

No.

Let's go up, then, shall we? You might notice something missing.

Yeah, OK.

I have to replace a light bulb anyway.

Madame Faraud? Yeah. Yeah, I'm Cosette.

Please. Thank you.

Thanks for meeting me here rather than the salon.

I don't want my clients thinking I'm being arrested!

Do I?

Ha.

Who did that?

Sorry, yeah, that was me.

I came up to check the shutter cos I could hear it banging.

Notice anything out of place? Anything missing?

Nothing obvious.

I'll just change that light.

They used to keep family papers in that, didn't they?

Did they? Yeah.

When we were kids, Etienne and I found a...

a death certificate in here for a stillborn baby

that his grandparents had never ever mentioned.

Oh.

How disappointing.

What was in it usually?

Don't know. Not sure.

Never looked, not really.

Well, did you or didn't you?

I knew there were papers in it, yeah.

When did you last see them?

Can't remember.

Couple months ago, maybe. Were you looking for something?

No, I moved the case, the lid opened and everything spilled out.

I put it all back. So where is it now?

I don't know.

That's my Mimi.

Ah! Ha!

Right.

She's dead now. Bless.

OK.

Oh, erm, yes.

Right, so Jean-Claude comes over most Saturdays,

for lunch and supper and stays over.

I cook him old-fashioned stuff like my mum used to make,

daube and blanquette de veau.

Did you know that Etienne was going up to the chateau?

No. Why would I?

Would Jean-Claude have mentioned it to anyone else?

Like who? Who would be interested?

Did you get on with him? Etienne?

Oh...

Well, erm...

we go back a long way, obviously.

We all used to play together - me, Jean-Claude, Marine Bonnet

and the boys and, erm...

Well, er...

Etienne was a bit older than me.

And we...

move in different circles now, let's put it that way.

I still run into Marine Bonnet occasionally when I'm in Aix.

She's always very friendly.

What about Lucien de Bremont?

Lucien and I,

we were sweethearts for a while back in the day.

Really? Yeah! Ha-ha!

HE wasn't racist.

So, Etienne was?

The whole bloody family, actually.

You know, the kind who say, "I never notice colour,"

like they're blind or something.

You must have met them, right?

Who else knew about the papers in the suitcase?

No-one, just me and the family.

The family being...?

Lucien, Etienne. Probably Isabelle, his wife.

Can't think who else would have known.

Were they thinking of selling this place, do you know?

Who? The family.

I don't know anything about that.

But Lucien would never sell, I know that much.

Never.

I think we need to get out of here.

Jesus, stop panicking. It's all gonna be OK.

I don't like it. I don't like what's happening.

It'll all blow over.

Look, I've got to go, I've got the funeral to deal with.

We'll talk later.

Everything OK?

Mm, sure.

Jean-Claude clearly already knew the case was empty.

So, who emptied it?

Verlaque.

Right, well, he's early.

Tell him I'm on my way.

Yves Madani, the guy who produced Etienne's last film.

The one about organised crime.

Is Antoine with you?

He's interviewing Yves Madani. Oh, yes.

How was Cosette?

Why do hairdressers always have weird hair?

Ha-ha! What colour is it now? Vivid aubergine.

I need a beer. Hm!

She said Etienne was racist.

You have any view on that?

Urgh, that sort of family, that sort of background,

he probably was.

Etienne's father once said to me

about Jean-Claude and Cosette's mother,

who was from Reunion,

"I never really think of her as Black."

So...

You know.

Unpack that.

About 18 months ago,

when Etienne was... editing his last film,

about crime along the Cote d'Azur,

I get a call from somebody called Fabrizio Orsani.

Major player in the world of organised crime. Exactly.

But I got the strong impression...

he was doing somebody else's bidding.

Someone who preferred to stay under the radar? Very possibly.

What did he want? He wanted me to warn Etienne

to be very careful about what he put in his film.

Then he said,

"We're hoping he's not as stupid as his brother."

What do you think he meant by that?

The brother's a bit of a liability, by all accounts.

Massive gambling debts gets you a lot of enemies along the coast.

He also, so I'm told,

hangs out with extremely young women.

He claims he looks after models.

Whatever it is, the police turn a blind eye.

Anyway, when I told Etienne about the warning,

he said, "I've no intention of dying for my art."

And now he's dead.

Maybe he should have been worried.

Etienne told Madani the new film was a sequel

and he'd already shot bits and pieces,

but he was quite cagey about it. So, where's the footage?

On his laptop, apparently.

We're looking at that, aren't we? They're working on it now.

But if the killer was worried about the footage,

they'd have just taken the laptop, surely?

Let's check it out anyway. Also, Lever Pogarovsky,

I want to know more about him

and I want to know exactly what Lucien's up to with him.

How was Cosette?

Ha! Barking. But interesting.

She says she had a thing with Lucien when they were young.

First I've heard of it.

Lucien claims Etienne was ruthless.

Lucien's not looking great himself.

I got a call earlier from one of our offices in Cannes.

He says Lucien was sacked by his polo team

for bribing someone to throw a match,

presumably because of the gambling debts.

Jeez! He must have been desperate.

Certainly explains why he doesn't play any more.

Let's get him in again tomorrow.

You know it's the funeral tomorrow, don't you?

OK, as soon as it's over.

Also, we got photos from the Tribeca Model Agency in Cannes,

the one whose girls Lucien looked after.

One way of putting it.

It's run by...

Lever Pogarovsky's wife, Maria.

Doesn't she do a lot of charity work?

Don't they all?

And in every one of these photos,

look who's here with all the young models.

Lucien.

Mm...

Oh, it seems Lucien's alibi holds up

for the night of Etienne's death.

Why would he want to kill his brother, anyway?

Maybe Etienne wanted to sell the chateau and he didn't.

Although he needed the money.

They both did, by the sound of it.

So with the brothers on my brain, I started thinking about something.

When we were kids we used to play hide and seek

up at the chateau with a bunch of other kids.

One of them was a much older boy called Mathieu.

Whenever... he found me he would jump on me and put...

one hand over my mouth and the other down my pants.

I was ten.

So I stopped playing with them if Mathieu was there

and I didn't tell Mum because I thought she'd be shocked.

Cut to years later,

I'm having a drink with Etienne and we're reminiscing

and I tell him about the Mathieu thing and he just laughs

and says, "You must be imagining it."

I'm a bit thrown, to be honest.

And I go, "No, I'm serious, he used to...

"jam his hand right down my pants."

And he looks at me, really coldly, and says...

.. "You must be misremembering."

And then asks for the bill.

What an absolute bastard.

I felt erased.

But I just sucked it up.

But I get it now.

His loyalty was to Mathieu, not me.

Because I'm a woman

but also because they're the same class,

they knew all the same people.

His word counted more than mine.

Jean-Claude!

It's me.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Are you awake?

I am now.

We're living our lives as if we're never going to die.

What?

You, me,

Etienne de Bremont.

We think dying is the thing that happens to other people.

You woke me up to tell me this?

Sorry.

Did you have a nightmare?

I was falling.

Oh, I hate those.

Someone pushed me.

Well...

call me Doctor Freud...

There must have been a millisecond when he thought,

"Oh, I see.

"This is how it ends."

Is that how you felt in your dream?

I felt all the despair you could ever feel

concentrated into one nanosecond.

And then I fell.

Aww.

Come in.

I bring news.

Good or bad?

We just got access to Etienne de Bremont's bank accounts.

And?

The joint account with his wife is scraping along the bottom.

He puts in enough each week to cover bills.

The business account has... Wait for it.

..2.5 million euros in it.

His wife mentioned he'd just got some seed funding for his new film.

That couldn't amount to 2.5 million, could it?

And here's the best bit.

Someone accessed that account online from an IP address in Avignon.

On Saturday night.

Three hours after he died.

Isabelle's sister was in Avignon. She was.

Whoever it was accessed the latest statement, then logged off.

Do you have a link to the IP address?

It's a restaurant called La Reine Claude.

Let's have a quick confab with Marine before the funeral.

Right, we get the sister in as soon the funeral's over.

Did she access the bank account?

If so, why, and how did she know how to get into it?

Do we know where the 2.5 million came from?

It was paid over a period of two months or so,

from four offshore accounts.

But it could have come from one person.

Theoretically. One company's registered in Lichtenstein,

another one they traced to the British Virgin Islands.

OK, suspects. Where are we?

Jean-Claude, terrible liar and clearly lying.

Agreed. Next, Isabelle de Bremont.

Did she know about the money in her husband's account?

If so, there's our motive.

Didier heard them arguing over money in his shop.

Basically, they were broke.

So maybe she didn't know. Hmm.

And now we have a sister in the mix.

If the sister didn't know about the money,

she clearly did after she accessed the account.

Was she close to her brother-in-law?

How did she get his bank details? We need to find out.

OK, next: Lucien.

Apart from all his other baggage, did HE know about the money?

It's not like he stood to inherit. It would all go to the wife.

Or maybe he somehow thought he'd get his hands on it.

Very possibly. Also, Jean-Claude's still bugging me.

He either knows something or did something,

and he's not telling us about it.

Jesus wept.

You going over to the funeral?

Not me. Too busy.

What in God's name are you wearing?

My great-great-grandfather was Scottish.

This is the family tartan. Hunting Stewart.

Jesus. Talk about drawing focus!

I'm entitled to wear it.

My grandmother was English.

I'm probably entitled to wear a bowler hat, Francois.

However, I'm wise enough not to.

See you at the funeral.

God! I wasn't expecting to see you here.

I like to keep in the swim.

There's a lot of people here. Why?

Same reason as you, I presume.

Here's Antoine.

Hi, excuse me.

Florence. OK?

Mm-hm.

Sorry.

Oh, sorry, I'm gonna have to take this.

Hello.

Excuse me. Sorry.

OK.

Er, not right now, but give me 30 seconds.

What's going on?

I'm loving the kilt.

In the name of the Father, the Son and Holy Ghost...

I didn't notice Lucien at the funeral. Did you?

Cosette.

Oh, Marine!

Is Jean-Claude with you?

He'll be here somewhere. Will you join us for a drink?

Oh, no. No, no thanks.

Maybe I'll catch up with you later.

Maybe we can have a coffee some time.

Of course. Yes, why not? OK.

Bye.

Where did Antoine go?

Oh, something to do with work, I imagine.

Is... is no-one going to the cemetery?

There's no burial, apparently.

Private cremation with no mourners.

That's what he wanted.

Talk about controlling things from beyond the grave.

Do you want a drink, Florence? No, no, no.

I'm off to a gilets jaunes reunion.

Au revoir. Au revoir.

She's been trying to overthrow capitalism since 1968,

God love her.

And failing hopelessly!

You have to admire her persistence, though.

Oh. Excuse me a moment.

Hi.

Lucien de Bremont's been found dead in the pool of the chateau.

Who found him?

Jean-Claude Faraud. Jesus!

That's two bodies he's found in the space of a week.

Bad luck, or something more sinister?

There are marks on his neck.

They think he may have been dead before he went into the water.

I presume Jean-Claude's been taken in for questioning.

He has. How did he seem?

Pretty upset.

We were going to the funeral together. Well...

..that was the plan.

So, what happened?

I went out to get bread.

I was back at the cottage by 7:30.

I'd just set the table, and then I heard a car outside.

So I went out and saw a black Mercedes

pulling out of the gates. It had Cote d'Azur plates.

That's all I can tell you.

Had you seen it before?

No.

So, I walked over to the chateau.

The front door was ajar. I went in and called Lucien's name.

When I came back out...

I could see the pool, and he was floating in it.

Face down.

He was all dressed ready for the funeral.

What did you do at this point?

I dragged him out.

He was heavy. I almost fell in with him.

So, I started to pump his chest...

..and it was hopeless.

I called an ambulance,

and then I thought maybe I should call the police, so I did.

You think I killed him, don't you?

Somebody seems to have killed him, wouldn't you agree?

Yeah, but why would it be me?

Why on earth would I kill Lucien? Why?

I didn't do it. I swear.

Helene? 'Yeah.'

Isabelle de Bremont's sister says

that she was driving Isabelle's car on Saturday night,

'but was she?' What, do you think she wasn't?

Something's been bugging me from the off.

'There was that overnight bag in the hallway,

'plus, I know people'

like Isabelle de Bremont and her sister.

They think the police are a lower form of life

'from whom they can withhold whatever suits them.'

'Isabelle and Etienne have a space'

in the underground car park opposite their apartment.

We're checking the CCTV now.

Good. We need that information pronto.

'And we're checking for CCTV

'on the black Mercedes Jean-Claude claims he saw.'

We do know that Lever Pogarovsky owns a fleet of cars.

What's the betting some of them are black Mercedes?

Any news on him?

Still away on business. 'Where?'

They were pretty vague about that.

That's convenient.

'But he is due back the day after tomorrow.'

I spoke to Isabelle de Bremont about the money.

She says she knows nothing about it.

Of course she doesn't.

Now ask her what she meant when she said,

"If they make us an offer we're not in a position to refuse."

What is that?

It a kind of gratin thing.

A kind of gratin THING?

I bought it in the freezer place.

It's sweet potato and...

Jerusalem artichoke.

Maybe an old pair of tennis shoes.

Who can tell?

Shall we eat out?

Hm.

Pathologist report.

Lucien was dead before he went into the water.

Manual strangulation.

Two brothers killed within a week of each other

at the same location.

What's Jean-Claude not telling us?

The bit where he killed him.

I suppose he's big enough to have done it.

Strong enough. But why?

Don't wanna ruin your evening,

but can you take a quick look at something?

Sure. Thanks.

All right...

Here it is.

CCTV footage of the de Bremont car park.

This is the evening Etienne died, at 7:45pm.

That is Isabelle de Bremont getting in and driving away.

You were right, Antoine. Beatrice wasn't driving.

I wonder what else she's been lying about.

OK. Isabelle's motive for killing her husband.

Money, if indeed she knew about it?

Does she strike you as a murderer?

Hmm.

People do weird things for 2.5 million euros.

So, who killed Lucien?

Maybe Lucien killed Etienne, and someone killed him in revenge.

I'm trying to imagine Isabelle de Bremont strangling him,

and I'm failing.

I can hear your cogs working.

What's going on?

We can't seem to get hold of Lever Pogarovsky.

So if we can interview him,

why don't we speak to his wife instead?

Lucien seems to have worked for her, rather than him.

Why don't we go down there tomorrow?

I'll get them to set up a meeting with her,

and en route, we can drop in at a little domaine I know.

Isabelle de Bremont said

that Etienne got a lot of his wine from them.

Why did he go all the way down there, I wonder?

Plus, I need a couple of cases myself.

Two birds, one stone.

Perfect. Perfect.

Terrible news about that guy Etienne de Bremont.

Yes.

Weren't you in that film he made?

I featured for all of a minute, but, yeah.

He bought a lot of wine from you, is that right?

No, that was his brother.

Lucien? Yes.

He stayed here quite a few times in our chambre d'hote.

You know that he also was found dead the day before yesterday?

Jesus Christ!

I had no idea. What happened?

We're not sure.

Tell us about him staying here.

Well, he used to come here regularly

with a woman who clearly wasn't his wife.

How do you know?

Well, they always arrived separately on a Friday evening,

in separate cars.

Left again the next morning, again in separate cars.

Always paid in cash.

Was she very young?

No, late thirties. Early forties, maybe.

Did you catch her name?

I think I can find it for you.

Well, there was one occasion about three months ago.

He'd forgotten his wallet, so she paid with a card.

It should be in here somewhere.

OK, yes. So, here's Lucien de Bremont's name,

on the right-hand page,

and here's her credit card receipts.

B de Keppel Valois.

Thank you for this, Marc.

We'll take a carton of red, too.

Sure. I'll sort that out for you.

De Keppel Valois.

That ludicrous, poncy, and in my opinion, made-up name

belongs to one of the most important judges in Marseille.

It's also the surname of Beatrice, Isabelle de Bremont's sister.

'Hang on. Etienne's brother and Isabelle's sister

'were having an affair?'

I'm not surprised they kept that quiet,

him and his dubious connections, and her married to a senior judge.

Bloody hell, Antoine. What's going on in this family?

Antoine Verlaque. OK, I'll let them know you're here.

Judge Verlaque?

Madame. This is Dr Bonnet,

who is helping us with our investigations.

Ravie, madame. Come, please, sit.

What can I do for you?

Your husband is away on business, is that right?

Yes.

Can you tell me where?

He's in Moscow.

And when do you expect him back?

Very soon.

Tell me about Lucien de Bremont.

He looked after many of my young models.

They were arriving from Russia, the Ukraine.

They stayed in his apartments.

He took care of them.

In what way?

Excuse me.

Hello?

It's Marc here, from Domaine Nagel.

Can you speak? It's important.

Sure.

Excuse me.

There's... there's been some suggestion

that some of the girls may have been... trafficked.

What do you know about that?

Girls are trafficked. I'm very sure of it.

But really, not my girls. No.

They are models.

And Lucien was a good man.

All the girls love him very much.

They trusted him.

He was always on their side. Always.

He was also heavily in debt.

It's true, he owed very much money everywhere.

He was a gambler, but very bad at it.

He made many enemies, I think,

but he had the chateau, there was money in his family.

It was like a guarantee, you know?

I googled the name de Bremont out of sheer nosiness.

I'm looking at a photo now of the guy who stays here,

and it isn't Lucien. It was Etienne.

'The film-maker, his brother.'

OK. Thank you.

It seems it wasn't Lucien de Bremont having an affair with the sister.

Well, no. That would be very unlikely.

I'm sorry?

Here.

Who's that?

Lucas Ahmed, Lucien's husband.

They married, five months ago.

Madame...

Why would Lucien's brother

have your husband's details in his address book?

I really could not say.

Madame Pogarovsky,

are you expecting your husband back from Moscow any time soon?

Remember the film producer Mandani

said he felt Fabrizio Orsani was doing someone else's bidding

when he came to warn Etienne?

I think he was sent by Pogarovsky.

His wife is clearly terrified of something. Him, at a guess.

And his people.

If Pogarovsky killed Lucien, he obviously didn't do it himself.

So Lucien didn't have an interest in young girls,

but Maria said he was on their side.

So maybe...

There was something criminal going on with those young women.

And he was trying to protect them.

Expose him, maybe.

No, Lever, there were no problems.

No.

They won't be coming back, but now I have a migraine.

No, I'm not lying to you.

I'm going home to bed. Call me in the morning.

Pogarovsky told Lucien to leave Cannes.

He didn't, and now he's dead.

But Etienne's dead, too. How does that work?

OK, here's my take.

I think our problem has been conflating two separate things.

The murders are linked...

..but not in the way that we think.

You mean in a way we haven't discovered yet.

Sadly, yes.

Jesus. Shoot me now.

The CCTV footage from the car park

on the evening of your husband's murder, madame,

shows that you were driving the car, not Beatrice.

I see.

I went to Avignon to see my lover. Beatrice covered for me.

Why? Does it matter?

We know about your husband and your sister, madame.

Goodness! You have been busy.

I take it you knew.

We had an understanding.

Our children were our priority.

Why on earth didn't you tell us this at the outset?

Because I didn't think it was any of your business.

Your husband has been murdered, madame.

Your business IS our business now.

Jesus!

What is the matter with you?

Lucas Ahmed.

This Judge Antoine Verlaque.

I'm investigating the death of your husband, monsieur,

and I'm very sorry for your loss.

Are you at home at the moment?

No, I'm in Aix.

I came to organise things.

I need to bring his body home.

Where would be convenient for us to meet, monsieur?

I can't meet you anywhere I might be seen.

I can't meet you anywhere official, or... or public.

Why is that?

Because I'm afraid, monsieur.

Can you think of any way

your husband's death and Lucien's might be connected?

That's your job, surely.

And that's not helpful.

Have you heard of Lever Pogarovsky?

No, why?

Did Etienne and Lucien see much of each other?

Lucien was gay, did you know that? You're not answering my question.

His parents never knew.

They were rather 19th-century. Horrified by that sort of thing.

That's why he moved to the coast, I think, to get away.

I'll ask you again.

Were he and your husband close?

No.

And, actually, I felt rather sorry for Lucien.

He allowed my husband to bully him.

I was given the impression it was the other way round.

That was Etienne's genius.

He could always persuade Lucien to take the blame,

for more or less everything.

My husband was so charming.

He could say black was white and people would believe him.

Who do you think killed your husband, madame?

Someone he crossed, I imagine.

I don't know who.

Did he cross a lot of people?

I think my husband was what you might call a sociopath.

The charm was legendary, but it was a very surface thing.

All he ever wanted was his own way,

with everything.

He hated that chateau, but he was damned if he'd ever give it up.

It was his heritage, his family, his name, his blood.

I mean, ridiculous, really.

So, madame...

..my final question...

..we know you were in Avignon on Saturday evening,

were you in a restaurant named La Reine Claude?

Yes, I was. Why?

Isabelle was the one who checked his bank account.

She did it on a regular basis because she didn't trust him

with their finances.

How did she get into it?

He used the same password for everything.

He never mentioned the money to her.

I mean, it was a staggering amount. Was he ever gonna tell her?

Anyway, one of the things we found on Etienne's laptop

was a Find My Phone app.

Sadly, the phone's not online,

but this is what you need to see.

This is what Etienne was editing.

'Maybe lose the Rolex. What do you think?'

'Look, they know I'm wealthy, I'm not pretending to be poor.'

'It's a bit flash. I think you should lose it.

'Let's talk about the school that you opened in Cameroon.'

'That's my wife, I will need to consult her.

'But give me a script, like a proper movie star,

'because I can't make this shit up from my head, you know?

'Do your job.'

There's lots more, but you get the picture.

He ends up talking about his charities,

the foodbanks he's set up.

He comes across like Mother Teresa on steroids.

I guess, Etienne must have given him that script.

So, there he is at last.

The elusive Lever Pogarovsky.

At the airport, go straight to check-in.

Do not hang about buying coffees.

Your tickets will be waiting.

Go through as quickly as you can.

When you are at the gate, you are safe.

We're thinking the money in Etienne's account

came from Pogarovsky.

On whom he was clearly doing a whitewash job.

One more thing Isabelle said,

Lucien wanted to sell off some land up at the chateau for development

and use the money to turn the place into a hotel.

Isabelle was all for it, she was on Lucien's side,

but Etienne refused, point-blank.

Lucien was trying to persuade him,

and now they're both dead. Right.

And presumably, Isabelle inherits everything.

No-one in the de Bremont family mentioned your marriage to Lucien.

Why might that be?

We never told him.

Because of Etienne, mostly.

He could just about accept Lucien being gay,

but liberal-minded Etienne

was basically just an old-fashioned homophobe.

Do you know anyone who would want to harm Lucien?

He owed money to half the Cote d'Azur.

Tell me about Lever Pogarovsky.

Lucien is dead because of him, Monsieur.

Marine? 'Hello?'

Marine, it's Cosette Faraud. Cosette!

We were gonna get a coffee sometime, weren't we?

I'm up at the chateau. Jean-Claude's in town.

I need to talk to you.

OK. I'm listening.

I wanted to talk to you at the funeral,

but there were too many people around.

OK, well... Can you get up here?

I'm frightened, Marine. I don't know who to trust any more.

Half the girls in that agency were pimped, trafficked.

Look, whatever you want to call it.

They thought they were coming to Europe as models.

They were sold to rich, old plutocrats

with a taste for adolescents.

By Maria Pogarovsky?

No, no. By Lever.

Maria and the agency were a front and she didn't know it at first.

It was all legit when she started out, but with him,

everything was leverage and kompromat.

He saw the girls as goods.

Well, like things in a shop and he owned the shop.

Maria tried to stop him, we did what we could.

We tried to protect the girls, but...

Look, Lucien begged Etienne to make a film about him,

but he wasn't interested.

Even when Lucien brought him evidence,

testimonies from the girls. You could have gone to the police.

Have you any idea what we're up against?

Lever Pogarovsky runs everything down there.

Including the police.

A pimp girl is just a prostitute.

A prostitute doesn't count.

I'm a gay Black man and...

I don't count either.

I found something and you need to see it.

Also, I've had...

I've had a bit to drink and so I can't drive a car.

Please, Marine.

You're the only person I can think of who might understand.

You were great to me when we were kids.

Cosette, you're not in any danger, are you?

Er... I don't know.

I might be. Just stay calm.

Give me an hour, OK? OK.

Lever Pogarovsky invited Lucien onto his yacht

and warned him to stop what he was doing.

How did he know about it? Etienne told him.

Etienne was in their pockets, Monsieur, and we had no idea.

Every time Lucien gave him evidence about the girls,

Etienne would pass it straight on to Lever Pogarovsky.

Eventually, Lever must have lost patience.

He had my husband killed.

He'd probably kill me if he knew I was here.

Do you think he killed Etienne?

Why would he do that?

Etienne had already gone over to the dark side.

He was no threat to them whatsoever.

But I tell you this much, Monsieur, whoever did kill him...

..did the world a favour.

You're saying the DNA on the whiskey bottle

is a partial match to Jean-Claude Faraud?

Lucien wanted to sell some land up at the chateau.

Tell me about that.

He had a dinner with some investors the night that Etienne died.

They made an offer, subject to Lucien putting it to Etienne.

Isabelle was already in favour.

But Etienne, turns out, was already dead.

I assume you know Jean-Claude is Lucien's and Etienne's half-brother.

What?

They did not tell you about the papers he found at the chateau?

Only that some were missing.

Amongst them was stuff concerning his birth,

that he was Lucien and Etienne's half-brother.

Lucien's father had a long affair with Jean-Claude's mother.

She was the housekeeper and cook at the chateau.

A very beautiful woman from Reunion.

Jean-Claude told Lucien all this?

Yeah. Lucien was thrilled. He adored Jean-Claude.

I guess it didn't sit too well with Etienne when he told him.

Now he had a Black half-brother,

with a share of his inheritance.

What's this about?

Why didn't you tell us about the documents you found?

Lucas just told me.

I thought no-one would believe me.

They vanished, I had no proof any more.

I've looked everywhere, I've had the place upside down.

There are all sorts of ways of proving who you are,

the documents... don't matter.

The night of Etienne's death, you say you were at Cosette's,

you ate supper, you woke up hours later.

Helene? 'Etienne de Bremont's phone has been turned on.'

We've just traced it.

The signal is coming from Chateau de Bremont.

- Hi! - 'Wait till you hear this.

'Jean-Claude is Lucien and Etienne's half-brother.'

What? 'I know.

'Where are you? We're about to go up to the chateau.'

Well, that's where I am.

I'm meeting Cosette.

She's in a bit of a state about something.

Oh, Cosette! Hi!

'Marine? Marine?'

Cosette?

Did you hit me? You were talking to the police!

It was Antoine.

He's not the police... He's a judge.

It's the same thing.

He's on his way here.

He knows you're here, too.

Why don't we...? Stop talking! Just...

Stop!

I'm on my way there now with Jean-Claude,

you better send some help. OK.

The whiskey bottle we found after Etienne's death

has a partial match to your DNA. What does that mean?

I don't even drink whiskey.

It means whoever left the DNA is related to you.

Cosette.

I was going to tell you at the funeral.

But you were busy with all those people.

I thought I could trust you.

We go back a long way, Marine. I mean...

I thought you would be able to help me,

why do you think I called you?

OK.

So why don't you tell me what I can help you with?

This. These papers, these documents,

I don't know what to do with them.

Etienne was trying to take them and destroy them

and ruin my brother's life.

How dare he!

This, look.

It's a document, it's official, it's signed by the old count,

and it says that Jean-Claude is his son.

If Etienne had taken this, it would be his word against ours.

And who do you think would win?

We don't have to rely on old papers any more, we have DNA testing.

No, no, no.

He was trying to disinherit Jean-Claude because he is Black.

That's all! Because he's Black.

His father never acknowledged my mother.

Even after she gave birth to his child.

That bloody family.

Did Cosette know you were their brother?

Yeah, I told her.

I couldn't help myself. Right.

And she knew Etienne would be at the chateau the night he died.

You fell asleep in front of the TV, right?

I drank a Disaronno, woke up around three in the morning.

So you never really knew where Cosette was.

She drugged you, Jean-Claude.

Yeah, that... that's my Mimi.

The vet's just put her to sleep.

OK.

I didn't let him cremate her. It's a scam.

Right.

They take their skin and they send it to China...

..and they make them into hats.

Right.

The vets, the Chinese, the crematorium people,

they're all in it together.

I'm in a Facebook group.

We keep an eye on this sort of thing.

Cosette...

did you have something to do with Etienne's death?

Oh.

It was an accident.

It was... it was just an accident.

What the hell are you doing here? You first.

This is my home, you're trespassing.

Oh, I see. Is that what you came for?

It's too late.

I'm gonna put it all on a bonfire. Don't you dare!

Trespassing and threatening behaviour.

It was just an accident.

I hardly touched him, it was just like a tap. You know?

Anyway, I went down and looked at him.

I thought he might be OK, so I turned him over.

I guessed he was dead, but I... I wasn't sure.

I picked up his phone, look, look.

Yeah, yeah, here.

Here. Here.

Here's the photo he took of me.

I went back, erm...

I went back upstairs and took the papers into a carrier bag

so that no-one else could get hold of them.

And then I went and sat down under that fig tree.

And I just watched him.

I...

I had a fag.

And I had a drink, and then...

Well, I thought he might get up, but he didn't.

So I went home.

It was an accident.

Cosette...

You're saying you killed Etienne by accident.

You don't want to start killing people deliberately, do you?

That family thought they could just take what was ours

because we don't count!

I am so tired of this shit!

Marine!

How do you make this thing work?

No.

It's OK. It's OK.

It's OK.

It's OK, it's OK.

I've got you. I've got you.

I did it for you, Jean-Claude.

I did it for you. I know, I know.

Cosette, it's OK.

It's OK, Cosette.

Up we get. Come on.

Stand up. I'm coming with her.

I'm here, Cosette.

Are you all right? I'm OK. I'm OK.

Did she hit you? Am I gonna have a black eye?

Afraid so.

What will you do about Pogarovsky? Absolutely nothing.

He'll think it's gone away,

and the minute he sets foot in Europe...

Will he? Oh, yes.

His yacht's still here.

We'll get him for his wife's death and for Lucien's...

..eventually.

Poor Cosette.

Driven mad by it all, wasn't she?

By the total unfairness of everything.

I have a theory that most violence comes from shame,

from being traduced or ignored or humiliated.

Cosette's response was to see conspiracies everywhere,

and then she snapped.

It's Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude!

I was just on my way home.

How's Cosette?

Hey, sit down for a moment. May I?

Me and Lucas and Lucien,

we were gonna run the chateau as a hotel.

I was gonna get Cosette involved, that was the plan.

All of us together. Family, you know?

Even Etienne's wife... she was up for it.

Now it's all...

just gone.

You can still do it.

You and Lucas.

The chateau is your rightful inheritance.

But Cosette.

Let's just see what happens.

Maybe... She did push him.

She told me.

I told her it would probably be manslaughter.

What do you think?

That's...

It's not impossible.

Here's to you. And to Cosette.

To Cosette.

Two women killed the same evening within 10km of each other.

Delphine Jourdan, 27. I think she's been strangled.

The second victim was 75,

married, early stages of Alzheimer's.

You're a criminal! She's been shot in the shoulder.

All we need is a serial killer on our hands.

Isn't it three murders before you're a serial killer?

Is it?

Every woman I meet, you all turn on me.

I deserve respect! Stop it!

Do you think he killed her?

Can you hear me? This is all my fault.

Antoine!