All language subtitles for Cannes Confidential - 01x05 - Southern Gothic.NTb.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Mrs. Fontaine?

Babette...

can you hear us?

This is stupid.

No, listen.

Are you Mrs. Fontaine?

Get out of my house.

I said get out of my house!

What's the meaning of this?

Pascal, and you, Denise...?

We heard her.

Heard who?

Mother.

She was here.

I want you all to leave now!

No.

No. No. No. No.

No. No. No. No.

No. No.

Don't come near me.

No.

Don't come near me.

No. No!

Don't come near me. No! No!

No! No!

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Whoa!

This is sick.

You know what?

I heard stories about this place.

They said some broad went nuts
and burned the whole place down.

Scary movie shit, bro.

Whoa. Shit.

What the...?

Do you think he's dead?

I don't know, man, but call the cops.

This shit's for real.

Cut the camera. What are you thinking?

Cut the fucking...

- Thank you.
- Love you, Emilie.

My treasures.

Darling, just... just keep Emilie aside.

- No!
- Daddy!

No! Daddy!

- No. No, no!
- Daddy!

I love you!

No!

Mommy!

_

Margaux?

You're not going to shoot me, are you?

Maybe some breakfast first?

Admittedly, my pancakes are to die for.

But if you haven't tried
my eggs Benedict,

you haven't lived.

Hey, what the hell do you...

One word from you and one word only.

Whisking!

Rapid, light hand movement.

It's the key to a perfect eggs Benedict.

Well, I feel a little underdressed.

Come on, you and me, let's go.

In your dreams.

Don't worry, I'll show you how.

There's a certain rhythm to it.

It's like a dance.

Come on!

That's it, follow me.

It's all in the wrist, you see.

Pancakes, on the other hand,

pancakes are all about flipping.

It's you that's flipped.

Keep going. You're doing great!

- Can you at least tell me...
- Trust me, I am a master.

Keep whisking!

Two men testified against your father.

I think I have found a witness
who's willing to talk,

but no phones.

Keep it down. Who is it?

I've arranged a meeting by
the bandstand at the Old Port

at 3:00 PM.

Yeah.

- Keep going.
- Yeah, yeah.

Keep going. Don't stop now.

- There you go.
- That's it.

- Yeah.
- Come on, you little...

- Oh, come on.
- There, you got it.

Keep going. Yes.

Oh, that's better.

Sorry to interrupt.

Margaux.

My bad.

All right, now the least you can do

is let me cook you breakfast.

Yes, Lea. What's up?

Get your gear on.

Body. Dead.

Chateau Fontaine.

The old ruins?

You can't kick me out, I haven't
even finished breakfast.

Come on.

There's more I have to tell you anyway.

You can tell me in the car.

So, where are we going?

This means Boire's heard
everything I've said,

every conversation,
every phone call about the case.

And for how long?

Well, I'm afraid I've had my suspicions

ever since your
brief encounter with Boire.

I mean, how on earth would
he know that you would be there?

And that's why he's always been
one step ahead of us.

Damn no good son of a bitch.

Hey, hey, hey, don't kill the car.

It's not the car's fault.

But listen, there is one thing.

Do you remember the name of the
company that paid these guys?

Suis-Yola?

Yeah, but it's actually one word.

Spell it backwards
and it reads "Aloysius."

Does that mean anything to you?

No.

Not at all.

Okay, so meeting the witness
at the bandstand?

Oh. I... I made that up.

- The witness bit.
- You did what?

There's no witness?

Can we leave it for now?

I have work to do, and you stay here.

What, wait, doing what?

I don't know. Use your imagination.

- I'll be back.
- My imagination? Great.

I see you brought your chaperone.

Not now, please.

What we got?

Victim's name was Pascal Fontaine.

Wallet's still here.

Cause of death, hanging?

Asphyxiation due to strangulation,

but it was not suicide.

Here... ligature marks beneath the rope.

- I'd say sometime last night.
- And the kids?

Urban explorers running
a website on abandoned places.

They found him.
Here's their video footage.

And this, fresh from last night.

- "Veritas."
- Truth.

Goddess of truth, actually.

And daughter of Saturn,
according to the Romans.

Sorry, may I? Um...

Uh, yeah.

Thank you.

Although, in my experience,

more often to be found
at the bottom of glass.

"In vino veritas" being one of
the finest aphorisms

I've ever come across.

Very impressive.

- Thank you.
- What is he doing here?

Using my imagination. Don't worry.

Think of me as a fly on the wall.

You won't even notice I'm here.

Great. Now we just need a fly trap.

So the message?

Well, yes, I mean, if this is Pascal,

then of course,
his mother was Babette Fontaine,

the famous concerto pianist.

She burned this whole place
to the ground a long time ago.

I believe the family have moved
to a villa in the hills.

They still live there.

You can take him down, please.

- Yeah, we all know the story.
- Hello.

The Fontaine family
lived here for generations.

Until a series of unexplained deaths

convinced them that they were cursed.

A governess fell down a well,

a housekeeper found dead in the laundry.

Gentle, guys.

Why did he come back here?

It looks like a punishment.

Maybe it has something to do
with the curse?

We are police
examiners, not ghostbusters.

See? Two marks.

But he wasn't killed here.

Look at the shoes.

Dragged or running?

What's this?

That's human hair.

Maybe from the attacker?

I'll have it analyzed, that's for sure.

Nice Monday, once again.

I'd appreciate it if you'd stay back.

No problem, I'll take a stroll
around the garden,

see if I can find the croquet lawn.

Oh, sorry.

So, what do we know
about the other family members?

The dad, François, was a
conductor at the concert house,

but gave it up soon
after his wife's death.

Son Georges is a history teacher
at the local college.

Pascal was into IT,
worked at a software company.

And their aunt Denise
runs a local restaurant.

Not very "aristocrat."

Guess the old family money ran out.

Let's go.

François, the police is here.

Monsieur Fontaine, Lieutenant Delmasse,

Cannes PD, I'm afraid
we have some bad news.

My family is cursed.

I lost my wife, Babette,
three years ago.

And now... my dear son.

Nothing's ever the same again, is it?

No.

It's not.

Babette was the heart and soul
of this family,

and her spirit is everywhere
in this house.

Her illness tore us apart.

And now my beloved son is gone too.

After that damn séance...

What séance?

Upstairs!

Police. What happened?

It's that curse. It's that damn curse.

_

More hair.

Same color.

Okay, Ramz, I need you to swab

every séance participant
for a hair match.

Okay, boss.

There was a séance, but I don't
believe in such nonsense.

But I could feel something
change within the house.

A presence.

How did Pascal seem
the last couple of days, weeks?

He seemed fine, always working
on his ridiculous animations.

Some kind of computer game or something.

You don't live here at the villa?

No. Pascal moved back
a month ago, but he has...

had a flat downtown.

Why did he move back?

He said he wanted to study
the family curse...

up close.

Up close?

Did he say that?

I loved Mama dearly,
but didn't share her passion

or have any of her talent.

Those who can't...

they teach.

I guess that's me.

History, I heard.

I'm fine, Aunt Denise.

I just need to get some fresh air.

May I have a word with you,
Madame Fontaine?

It's mademoiselle.

Do you live here?

No.

But I've always stayed
very close to the family.

I overheard what Georges said.

Babette could see no wrong
in Pascal... a mother's love.

She doted on the boy, before she...

Well.

Georges, he was younger,
and he needed her,

but she had her own problems.

Her death still hangs over this house.

It hasn't been easy
for François nor the boys.

Were you here at the séance?

It was Pascal's idea.

He came across a medium.

First time, we tried it at her place,

but it didn't work.

Then Yanice suggested
we could do it here.

It was a matter of energies.

Yanice? The medium?

Yes. But François wouldn't hear of it.

He forbade it.

But Pascal did it anyway.

Why?

Pascal was obsessed with the curse

and his mother's death.

Nobody talks about it. They all hide it.

Hide what?

Babette was committed
in a mental institution

for 15 years...

where she took her own life.

I'm...

I'm sorry, sorry.

Feeling left out?

Oh, you know, just killing time.

"Memento Mori."

It was written on the mirror.

Make any sense to you?

"Remember you must die."

Say what?

It's Latin for "Remember you must die."

We should be mindful
of what little time we have left

on this tiny blue speck we call Earth.

You know, fortune cookie-stuff...

"Carpe diem."

There is death and secrets going
on here for a mystery novel.

And I think it's just
the tip of the iceberg.

How's Ramz doing?

Ramzy's done here
and heading back to the lab.

He'll try to match the hairs.

I'll head to the station,

see how all the paperwork is coming.

- See you there.
- Yup.

So, come one, who did it?

The butler? Gardner? Governess?

And why?

Can you please let me do my work?

You know, I've heard there's
a rather wonderful portrait

of Babette in the drawing room.

I wonder if we might see it.

Huh.

My sister played phenomenally.

Really exquisite.

But her mind was fragile.

Those emeralds are Romanov's,
are they not?

Supposedly designed by
Gustave Fabergé himself

and given to the Grand Duke
Vladimir of Russia,

late 19th century, maybe around 1885.

They were a gift of Grand Duchess Maria,

who smuggled them out of Russia
during the revolution.

- What?
- Our family took her in.

Babette, as the eldest,
inherited them from our mother,

who passed away when we were young.

Amazing.

And they're probably worth a great deal?

Priceless, I'd say.

Where are they now?

Nobody knows.

They are believed to have been
destroyed in the fire.

Or stolen.

Are we done here, Lieutenant Delmasse?

For now, yes.

Oh, um...

Let me guess,
you're into jewelry as well?

Oh, I'm into beauty, in all its forms.

Yeah.

Well, that was a lovely day.

Thank you so much.

One question... where to next?

Me, station. You, I don't care.

But my bike's at your place.

Right. So take a cab.

Um, right, 3:00 PM, don't forget.

Yeah. 3:00 PM.

Camille. It's terrible what's happened.

Yeah.

I heard about the séance.

Why were you there?

Denise asked me to.

Plus, I've been the Fontaines'
lawyer for years,

and I'm a friend of the family.

But most of all, I hate charlatans

and self-proclaimed mediums.

What do you know about her?

She calls herself Yanice De la Rue.

Here, I got her card.
You can keep it if you want.

Thank you.

Who was the guy?

Oh, that's Harry.

He seems nice.

Try annoying.

Speaking of which,
have you seen your father?

Yes. He's like a muzzled clam.

Next time you see him,

tell him I have a lead on Julien Boire.

- Julien Boire?
- Yes.

He's the one forcing him
to take the fall.

Just tell him.
I wanna hear his reaction.

Okay.

We have a lot of alibis.

François was at a concert,
ticket confirmed.

Denise was at home
watching a movie with Georges.

So...

Babette Fontaine, eccentric pianist,

went mad and was committed.

She doted on Pascal, her son.

But Pascal never quite
got his act together.

Some minor drug offenses.

But why kill Pascal?

Because of a priceless necklace,
reported to be missing?

And why threaten Georges?

What is the motive?

Pascal's financials was in order.

Computer games paid well.

No debts, at all.

The message, "veritas."
Reveal what truth?

It meant something, the whole staging,

- pointing at...
- The curse?

We need to check out
that so-called medium.

She was there that night.

And what about brother Georges?

He called Pascal frequently
the last week.

Maybe Pascal was afraid?

And maybe the threat against Georges

was aimed at someone else.

Unfortunately, the hair
didn't have the root attached,

so impossible to detect DNA...

until most recently.

A scientist from Santa Cruz, California,

was able to use a technique
to extract DNA

from fossilized bones
and create his own genotype

using one of his own rootless hairs.

Together with the saliva sample,

he uploaded it into a DNA database,

and discovered...
Wait, wait, wait for it.

And discovered that both
genotypes matched him

with the same relatives.

Ergo, you could extract a
genotype from the rootless hair.

And that's what we call
a scientific breakthrough.

I'm sorry, are you finished jacking off?

Match or no match?

No match yet with anyone at the séance,

but both hair samples
came from the same source.

This I like.

No more supernatural mumbo-jumbo,

plain simple facts.

So, same hair,
but we don't know whose yet.

Something bothers me.

Apart from a ghost being a suspect?

Why doesn't a guy working in IT
own a computer?

Stolen?

I'll search his apartment

while you test Yanice's psychic powers.

You do know it's not 3:00 yet?

I spent the last hour walking
in the hot sun, thanks to you.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

What do you know about mediums?

Little smaller than large,
little larger than small.

I'm serious.

Isn't that your field of expertise?

The art of the con?

How dare you?

They study, they learn
everything about their mark,

and then play upon expectations.

They tell you what you want to hear.

Filling in the blanks,

it's a play where both parties
actually want the same outcome.

To speak to the dead.

Jesus.

Yeah, pretty tricky, that one.

Although the carpenter's son
that you just mentioned

has been dead 2,000 years,
and people still talk to him.

Care to meet a medium?

Or a large. Not fussy.

Yeah.

Shouldn't a witch live in a
cabin in the woods or something?

You're such a cynic,
Lieutenant Delmasse.

She's a modern witch...

fortune teller-type person,

and obviously they live in tower blocks.

Wonder what took you so long.

She knew we were coming. Amazing.

So, you do horoscopes as well?

Yes, and tarot readings online.

You want one?

I'm here on police business, thank you.

The séance at the villa.

You want to know what kind of fraud I am

and what I know about
the Fontaine family history

in order to scam them
out of their money.

Something like that?

I like her.

I think you and she could be related.

Oh, yes, please.

I am absolutely gasping for a cuppa.

Thank you.

You look very young for...

Seers don't choose their abilities.

Nor the age they discover them.

Seer?

Is that what you call yourself?

I am merely a vessel.

Open to the frequencies of the universe.

And beyond.

I heard Pascal Fontaine hired you?

Yes.

Pascal was afraid when I first saw him.

Actually, Denise was the one
most curious

about Babette's fate.

Pascal was mostly sad.

And lonely.

But it didn't work.

Why repeat the séance at the villa?

Because Pascal paid me.

Tell me about the séance.

How do you...

get in contact with the...

With the dead?

I sense their energies.

I can see auras,

and I use that energy to let myself,

my body and soul,
be a vessel for communication.

Blimey, and I struggle
with my smartphone.

This one really speaks to me.

I can tell you have a good heart.

Oh. Okay.

But you are closed to the world.

There's been a lot of pain in your life,

and you have trouble letting people in.

Especially those who
really care for you.

Wow, you have me all figured out.

I want a full statement
on your financials...

bank accounts, euros, Monopoly money,

healing crystals, everything.

Get it?

We'll see ourselves out.

Fraud or not, you make
a lovely cup of chai.

Thank you.

People actually believe in ghosts.

Voices from the dead.

Well, you know what Lord Byron said...

"I don't believe in ghosts,
but I'm afraid of them."

And do you know what
Ray Parker Jr. said?

Who?

"I ain't afraid of no ghost."

That's very good.

Yes, Lea.

We need good news.

Someone turned Pascal's place
upside-down

looking for something.

Computer's gone.

Then someone found it.

Force of entry?

Nope. Someone used a key.

Family?

And get this...

I found a related article
on the Fontaines

when I searched the city records.

And guess who was there two months ago

looking for the same article?

- Who?
- Pascal.

What article?

A scandal piece about the family curse

dealing with insanity, adultery,

and a mentally unstable mother
burning their mansion down.

Where supposedly
the Romanov necklace was lost.

And there's more.

François is having an auction
at the villa this weekend.

Paintings, furniture, the lot.

Everything's about to go.

A fire sale.

Is he jumping ship?

Camille, Camille. We should go.

Lea, where are you?

Meet me in 10 minutes in front
of 107 Croisette Boulevard.

Okay.

What's going on?

It has to do with Dad's case.

I've been bugged.
By a guy named Julien Boire.

He's been extorting my dad.

Don't look at me, I-I didn't bug her.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, Harry's helping me

finding evidence to free my dad.

That's all.

- Who is Boire?
- Maybe you?

Yeah. He's a fixer who's been
threatening me and Margaux.

Yeah, I know. I'm so sorry
for not telling you.

And now, we're meeting
a witness at 3:00.

Today?

It's in 30 minutes.

Who is the witness?

That's actually what I wanted
to discuss with you.

Does the name "Julien Boire"
mean anything to you?

What happened?

Camille thinks he coerced you
into changing your plea.

Is this true?

Fine.

Boire is the main focus
of her crazy theory.

Maybe she will let it go now.

Do you even know your own daughter?

She's not going to rest
until she gets answers.

Even if it kills her.

She is her father's daughter.
Would you have let it go?

She's running around town
with someone called Harry.

Never heard of him.

But she is okay, isn't she?

And Margaux?

And you are okay?

Don't act like you care.
It's a bit late for that.

Okay, so, that's the plan.

Camille.

So let me get this straight.

You're meeting a pretend witness

involved in the conspiracy
against your Dad,

and you want me to be that witness?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

So you're asking me to be a target.

To put myself in the line of fire.

Possibly literally?

Now, when you put it like that,
it sounds pretty bad.

But yes, it's more or less
what I'm asking you to do.

Lea, do you copy?

Loud and clear.

All set?

Copy. How do you want to play this?

You wait. I watch.

Lea will come forward.

We grab him.

Almost 3:00. I'm coming.

Any sign of him?

No, but he's here.
I can feel it in my bones.

We should have called for backup.

Well, this isn't exactly
official police work.

Here it goes.

Camille, your 9:00.

He's here.

Be careful.

Dark suit approaching.

Oh, sorry!

Lea! Don't you dare die on me!

Amen.

Breathe. It's okay.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry.

But I never go on a date
without my kevlar.

No!

Take care, take care, wait.

So you like to play, don't you, Camille?

Why don't you come down?
Let's play right here.

I love to play.

Oh, no, no, no.

I ain't got time for this. Sorry.

You are a disappointment...

just like your father.

Later, Camybear.

Fuck off.

I'm so sorry.

Find out who that man is.

I froze this image off the CCTV
overlooking the street.

That's Boire, but who's in the car?

It looks like a woman.

Who is the guy?

Is he connected to the Fontaine case?

No. Any new evidence?

I have DNA on the hair.

I don't know if it's good or bad.

What do you mean?

Well, hair shared the same DNA
as Pascal, Georges, and Denise.

- It was Babette's hair.
- Correct.

The DNA of...

Don't you say ghost.

Okay.

We need a search warrant for the villa.

So let me get this straight.

The DNA on the hair matches the mother,

her sons, and the sister.

So who's our suspect?

The ghost of Babette?

Seriously, listen to yourselves.

Curses, séances.

Do you have a prime suspect? Yes or no?

No. Not yet.

Pascal's computer seems
to have been stolen.

We believe it contained
something of importance...

But you don't have the computer.

That's why we need a search warrant.

Find me motive, intent,
something, anything,

pointing us in a direction.

Then I'll issue a search warrant.

And we're waiting for...?

So he's not there.

Is he on sick leave, or...

Is that so?

I understand.

Thank you for your time.

Yanice's financials came back clean.

Not even a parking ticket.

She owned a lot of cryptocurrency.

Oh, a law-abiding citizen.

So, any updates?

I just talked to the headmaster
at the high school.

Georges was fired five months ago.

- Call him, will you?
- Yeah.

Have someone check his apartment.

Yeah, I'm on it.

_

Hi, Gen.

Hello, Camille.
I've only got two minutes.

Georges Fontaine was fired
from his teaching position

on assault charges.

Yet there is no trace
whatsoever on the records.

There wouldn't be, would there?

What happened?

I don't know what it is
about this painting.

Thank you very much for receiving me.

I just simply had to take another look.

It was painted before her disease.

The artist was a local.

Unknown.

Babette wished to support all art.

It's her legacy.

And you became their mother,
didn't you, to those...

poor lost boys.

Yes.

I couldn't have children of my own.

They needed a mother.

God opened another door.

But you and François never married.

Oh.

My sister didn't know.

And I... I hadn't the heart to tell her

when I visited her at the asylum.

Tell me, um...

I hear that Pascal was also
an artist of NFTs.

Did you ever see any of his work?

No.

He only showed them to Georges.

He seemed upset.

I don't know why.

And after the séance, was anyone upset?

You go first.

So, Georges doesn't live there anymore.

In fact, we don't know
where he is staying.

No change of address.

He was fired for assaulting two students

for ridiculing his crazy mother
and family.

They quieted the whole thing down.

Some kind of settlement,
Genevieve told me.

Their last name still has
some pull around here.

Recognize this?

What is this?

This is an NFT.

Non-fungible token.

Digital art bought and sold
using cryptocurrency.

Virtual art.

You mean art that isn't real?

They're unique is the point.

Could be anything from a cartoon,

a logo, a meme, a tweet,

but you buy, digitally,
the one and only version of it.

Where did you get it?

Great question.

Among Yanice's financials,
I noticed this purchase

in cryptocurrencies two days
before Pascal's death,

and I got curious.

You know me. I looked it up online.

$5,000 worth in crypto.

Worth a fortune after his recent death.

But Yanice has an alibi.

Georges also, provided by Denise.

So there might be more NFTs
in his computer?

The family curse,

probably made by Pascal.

People go crazy for that stuff.

How crazy?

From thousands to $70 million
just for one NFT.

- What?
- What?

That kind of crazy.

I believe you have what you need
for a search warrant.

- Lieutenant.
- Boss.

Good job, kids.

Monsieur Fontaine,
before you say anything,

we know Georges was let go from
the school on assault charges.

And we have a search warrant.
We need to search the house.

No sign of Georges yet.

Units are still looking outside.

He'll show up.

We need to find that computer.

Let me show you around.

What are you doing here? Hmm?

A certain necklace?

Oh, Detective, really...

Just out of the way
while we search the house.

Absolutely, police stuff,
got it, carry on.

No laptop.

Is there any... storage room? Cellar?

Anything like that?

There is a basement.

What a sight for sore eyes.

Must be horrifying having to let
go of all this family history.

It's an insurance claim, isn't it?

You've still got that necklace
hidden away somewhere.

This fire sale,

it's just for show.

Hmm?

Very good.

Nobody's been down here for years.

Yes, pull.

For years, huh?

I swear, I had no idea.

What the f...

Wow.

Watch out.

So romantic.

Not creepy at all.

Wow, Cam.

Check this out.

Oh.

Mother isn't quite herself today.

Are you positive you watched a movie

with Georges on the night
of Pascal's disappearance?

Well, I didn't.

But I didn't know.

Cam.

This is it,

the NFTs.

Pascal's buried treasure.

Lea, call it in, and send out a warrant

for Georges Fontaine's arrest.

Please, don't hurt him.

He is a good boy, but a troubled soul.

Miss Fontaine, follow me, please.

Lea?

What did they say?

Do you know what it takes
to strangle someone?

It takes time,
requires effort, commitment.

Don't come near me. No!

I envied my brother, all that
he got... love, support, talent.

He had everything!

And now he was making a fortune
defiling our family history,

staining us forever!

Camille, breathe, breathe, breathe,

just... just breathe, breathe, breathe.

You're okay. I've got you.

You're okay. You're okay. I've got you.

Look, you've got your man.

Again.

I'll be outside.

Allergic to handcuffs.

He'll live.

Life isn't fair,

we don't always get what we want,

and unfortunately, we can't
deal out our own vengeance.

See you at the station.

Yeah.

I really need to change this number.

Camille...

there's somebody here who
would like to speak to Harry.

What?

Just be a good girl
and pass him the phone.

Harry, Julien Boire.

I'm with somebody here
who would love to say hi.

This is Emilie.

What's going on?

Who is this?

Whoever you are, please help me.

Please help me.

Talk to me.