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[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Siren wailing ]

MAIGRET: It was a morning like this

when we first moved in here.

Do you remember?

MME. MAIGRET: Of course I remember.

Is it really 11 years ago?

No. It's 12.

Mm.

Far too nice for work.

-[ Grunts lightly ] -Don't go.

You're a senior police officer.

Give yourself the day off.

We could take a trip to the country.

Where?

Meung-sur-Loire?

I'm not taking a day off

in order to go house-hunting in the countryside.

Why?

Because I am not ready to contemplate retirement.

Not for another...12 years.

11.

I shall be late for work.

However, you're quite right.

I am a senior police officer.

I'm entitled to a cup of coffee.

I'm entitled to be late for work.

Thank you, madame.

MAN: Go on! Move it!

[ Indistinct shouting ]

-Ahl Got it! -[ Alarm ringing ]

Come on! Come on! Let's gol!

MAN #2: I can't leave it herel

Get inl Quickly!

[ Tires screech ]

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Whistle blows ]

-Good morning, Chief. -Ah.

Lovely morning it is, too, Lucas.

You look a bit agitated.

I am, a bit.

There's been another jewel robbery.

Whereabouts?

Just off the Boulevard Montparnasse.

About half an hour ago.

-Who's dealing with it? -Lapointe.

Excellent. Good experience for him.

No need to be agitated.

Oh? Comeliau wants to see you. He's phoned three times.

-Is that all? -In the past half-hour?

Ah. That is a reason for agitation -- for me, not you.

I better go and talk to him.

He probably just wants to discuss

the delightful state of the weather.

M. Maigret.

M. Comeliau.

Another jewel robbery, I'm told.

Inspector Lapointe is at the scene.

How many is it now?

Too many.

73, I believe. [ Sniffs ]

Over a period of seven years.

Correct.

That's a very long investigation, Chief Inspector.

I am famous for my patience, monsieur.

Well, the jewelers of Paris are not patient, Maigret.

Many of them are wealthy men with friends in high places.

Friends, perhaps,

in the department of the examining magistrate?

[ Clears throat ]

That is possible.

The investigation is proceeding.

Isn't it time we had a culprit?

I know the culprit. It's Manuel Palmari.

Mm.

Manuel Palmari,

who, from his apartment in the Place de I'Auvergne,

organizes gangs of young hoodlums from the south

and then disposes of the stolen property

so that it disappears without trace,

as do the hoodlums from the south.

Precisely.

You've been telling my department the same story

for the last seven years.

[ Typewriter dings ]

Because it's true.

And you've tapped his telephone

and maintained constant surveillance on his apartment,

and still you have no evidence.

It could be someone else.

M. Comeliau, I know it's Palmari.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I'd like to talk to my friend Palmari.

Today might be the day he confesses.

As ever, Chief Inspector,

I leave it to your absolute discretion.

What have we discovered?

Same pattern -- two young men, dark complexions, faces covered,

plus a driver and a lookout man.

They know what they were looking for?

Yeah, one platinum pendant and emeralds.

My wife likes emeralds.

But this is the interesting thing --

For weeks, there's been nothing of real value

on display in the window.

The dealer only got hold of the emeralds last week,

and he put them on show last Thursday.

-And they were stolen on Monday. -Exactly.

So their information is very good.

Mm.

It's my belief the thieves have a very special method.

What method?

Somebody walks around the streets of Paris,

looking in shop windows.

Mm.

I shall go and talk to the master criminal.

Place de I'Auvergne.

[ Indistinct shouting ]

[ Hooves clopping ]

Any activity?

Aline left the apartment at 9:00.

Lacoste and Bourellier are following her.

You gonna talk to him?

Fourth floor, right-hand side.

Thank you, Janvier.

After all these years, I know the way intimately.

Oh, is the lift working?

-Yes. -Thank God for that.

Keep the change.

-[ Coin clinks ] -You're too generous, monsieur.

[ Up-tempo jazz music playing I

[ Rings ]

[ Music continues I]

Your boys were busy again this morning, Manuel.

Wait. Be patient.

Listen.

[ Music continues I]

[ Music stops ]

Boys? I have no boys.

Jeweler's shop off the Boulevard du Montparnasse.

I repeat -- I have no boys.

You have a woman.

Aline?

Who is well capable of taking messages to your boys.

Who cares for me and -- I like to think -- loves me.

And has a habit of disappearing on mysterious errands

that always coincide with the jewel robberies.

How many times must I tell you, my friend?

I have retired.

I live here in this comfortable room

with my books and my records.

Peaceful retirement.

You listen to all my telephone calls.

You must have heard me recommending peaceful retirement

to all my friends.

Indeed, I recommend it to you.

Policemen don't retire, whatever their wives say.

Neither do gangsters.

Here.

[ Sniffs ] Thank you very much.

Mm.

I was never a gangster.

I've been a businessman for years.

Am I not the owner of the Clou Dore,

one of the finest restaurants in town?

I was there last week with my wife.

The moules were passable.

Oh. Thank you.

I shall ask Aline to pass on your compliments to the chef.

But I still don't believe you.

About what?

About retirement.

To be precise, I retired two years ago.

No, thank you.

The night somebody shot me

as I came out of the Clou Dore...

...leaving me like this.

It seemed to me that nature

was dropping a small hint about retirement.

It seemed to me that one of your business associates

was settling an old score.

Oh, probably a customer who didn't enjoy the moules.

Probably a man called Mariani,

who was found a month later floating facedown

in the harbor in Marseilles.

Oh. Marseilles is a violent city.

You'll certainly find gangsters in Marseilles, but not in Paris.

This is a city of culture, books, music.

Civilized businessmen living in retirement.

-[ Door opens I] -[ Footsteps ]

Aline?

Aline, in here.

Hello, my lovely.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Smooches I]

What are you doing here?

My job, as usual.

I've been giving the chief inspector a little advice.

[ Chuckles ] Will he take it?

I doubt it.

So do I.

When you gonna stop bothering us?

When you're both tried and convicted, mademoiselle.

Can you guess what happened today?

Someone else was telling me to retire.

-M. Comeliau? -Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

He'd love to see the back of me, but he's too polite to say so.

No, it was somebody else. A professional gangster.

-Really? -And it's very odd.

I mean, here we have M. Comeliau,

the examining magistrate, a man of high breeding,

a pillar of integrity, and I can't stand the man.

And then we have Palmari, gangster and pimp --

probably a murderer, too, even though it's secondhand --

and I quite like him.

It's certainly an interesting idea.

What is?

We could have a little cottage on the Loire.

With a garden and an orchard.

I can see you -- in your old clothes,

smoking your pipe, tending your garden,

while I'm in the kitchen preparing lunch.

Something miraculous with aubergines, I think.

-What are you talking about? -Our retirement.

It sounds lovely. Don't you think so?

I think it sounds extraordinarily tedious.

Oh, Jules.

Oh, this is delicious, you know?

-Ah. -[ Chuckles ]

Why don't you open a restaurant?

I have been through seven years of files.

There isn't a shred of real evidence against Palmari.

So?

You're working for Chief Inspector Maigret now.

But this isn't an investigation. It's an obsession.

-MAIGRET: Obsession? -[ Door closes I]

Well, perhaps I used the wrong word, sir.

Or perhaps you used the right word.

Ah. Palmari.

Yes. An obsession.

May I ask the reason?

The reason is easy -- fingerprints.

No, you won't find it in the files.

I don't mean actual fingerprints.

You look at a drawing by Picasso,

you don't need a signature.

You simply know, "This is the work of Pablo Picasso."

You listen to an aria by Mozart,

your ears tell you, "This is the work of..."

-[ Telephone rings ] -"...Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."

I look at these jewel robberies,

and I know this is the work of Manuel Palmari.

Just a moment.

Chief?

-What is it? -Palmari.

He wants to speak to me?

Doesn't want to speak to anyone. He's been murdered.

Aline left the building at 9:00.

I followed her.

She went to the greengrocer's, then the patisserie,

then the laundry, and then --

We'll check the shopping list later.

Was she out of your sight at any time?

No.

And then, uh, she returned to her apartment when?

-5 to 10:00. -Mm-mm. And then what?

Nothing -- until quarter past 10:00,

when she opened the window and shouted for help.

Are the local police up there now?

Yes. But they know you're coming.

They usually do. See you later.

Well...

You satisfied now?

On the contrary, mademoiselle.

-Is this the gun? -So they say.

-Have you seen it before? -It belonged to Manuel.

LUCAS: Smith & Wesson .38.

Where's it usually kept?

In the daytime, behind the radio,

where Manuel could reach it.

At night, by the bed.

A professional's weapon.

[ Door opens I]

Good morning, Chief Inspector.

Ah, yes. May we start?

All done, Moers. It's all yours.

What are you going to do with him?

Fingerprints, photographs. The usual sort of thing.

Did you pick up the gun?

I haven't touched it.

Lucas, you know what to do.

You come with me.

Where are you taking me? The Quai des Orfévres?

Not unless you want to plead guilty to the murder of Manuel.

Don't be stupid.

In that case, in here would do very nicely.

-How long will this take? -I don't know.

A day, a week, a month, a year.

I'm a very patient man, as you know.

Why did they have to pick on Manuel?

They?

-Whoever it was. -You don't know?

It's not fair.

Life has many properties, Aline.

Fairness isn't one of them.

All he had was in that room --

his books, his music, his radiogram.

And you.

Well, obviously.

Do you have a lover?

Of course not.

-Forgive me for asking. -No, I don't forgive you.

My reason for asking is simple.

We've had you under surveillance for several years now.

Yes. I had noticed.

And on regular intervals, you give my men the slip.

They lose you.

So, what conclusions am I to draw?

You have lousy policemen.

Either you've been indulging in criminal activities --

probably related to the jewel robberies --

or you have a lover.

Maybe both.

But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt.

Listen -- This morning Manuel was killed.

I want to know who did it. It's your job to find out.

Now, why don't you get on with it?

Very well.

You left the apartment at 9:00, returned at 5 to 10:00,

reported the killing to the police at 10:15.

Is that correct?

Ask your men. They watch everything I do.

Now, when you came home, you went straight into the kitchen.

That's what I normally do when I return with my shopping.

Another thing you usually do is go into Manuel's room, say,

"Hello, my lovely," and give him a kiss.

Yes.

What did you find?

You know what I saw.

You saw it yourself, for God's sake.

Did you pick up the gun?

I told you before -- I haven't touched it.

So, what did you do?

Whatever it was, you did it for 20 minutes.

I don't know what I did.

What would you have done?

I'd have called a doctor.

I know death when I see it.

And then I'd have called the police.

I did.

After 20 minutes.

20 minutes, 20 minutes.

What's so special about 20 minutes?

Well, it's long enough to remove

any compromising documents or objects from the apartment.

Large sums of cash. Pieces of jewelry.

Listen, I'll tell you what I did.

I cried.

And then I prayed.

I know it sounds stupid

because I don't believe in their lousy God,

but it gets you in spite of yourself.

Got down on my hands and knees,

and I prayed for Manuel's immortal soul.

Then I called the police.

Do I take it that you loved Manuel?

Of course I loved him.

It is a reasonable question, though, yes?

An older man.

Successful in business -- of a kind.

He finds a younger woman working behind a bar.

She's very pretty. He's very rich.

It has been known to happen.

Believe me, Chief Inspector,

I'm brighter than the average barmaid.

I cannot be bought.

I believe you.

Moers?

-Yes, sir? -We're gonna need the paraffin.

Paraffin?

It proves whether or not you've handled a firearm this morning.

You don't believe I killed Manuel.

No, as a matter of fact, I don't.

But our M. Comeliau requires proof,

which is odd, really,

‘cause I know for a fact he believes in God.

Thank you, mademoiselle.

-When will we know? -10 minutes?

-And the rest? -Middle of the afternoon.

Wonderful.

Don't leave the apartment, Aline.

Why not?

It could be your turn next.

I'll see you after lunch.

Thank you for recommending the rillettes.

They were wonderful.

It's a good place for a surveillance operation.

Now, what's been happening -- tell me --

the comings and goings since 9:00.

Aline left to go shopping at 9:00.

10 past, the concierge shook her mat on the doorstep.

Tell me about the concierge.

-She hates us. -Why?

She regards our watching the building as a personal insult.

That could be useful.

Next?

Quarter past 9:00,

Mlle. Lavancher left with her portfolio.

Lavancher?

First floor, right-hand side, as we look at the building.

She goes to art school.

Her father is a Metro inspector.

Do you know any of the tenants?

A few. Only by sight.

We tried to be discreet,

except where Aline and Manuel were concerned.

She's very bright.

Aline?

Much more intelligent than Manuel.

The question is, which side is she on?

Sorry?

If she didn't pull the trigger,

somebody else must have done,

representing, let's say, a rival business interest.

Do you think think it's possible she might have changed sides?

Well, she always seemed totally loyal to Manuel.

Waited on him hand and foot.

And prayed for him.

-Really? -She told me so.

Of course, she might well have been praying for herself.

Ah, forensics! Bringers of truth and wisdom.

-Sit yourself down. -Thank you.

She didn't fire the gun.

Now, let's be precise.

There are no marks on her hands to indicate she fired the gun.

Correct.

Could she have worn gloves?

Well, yes.

Fingerprints?

Nothing on the gun. Nothing on the door handle.

She always wore gloves to go shopping.

-She needs protection. -Does she?

I can recommend the rillettes.

Sir?

Thank you.

Is he always like that?

-Like what? -Well, vague.

Whatever that is, my friend, it isn't vague.

Protection? I don't need protection.

[ Mid-tempo jazz music plays I]

Sergeant Lucas will stay with you for the moment.

Someone will relieve him in an hour,

and somebody else this evening.

Every eight hours, a fresh face.

Why do I need protection? I can take care of myself.

Now, let's not be sentimental about this, Aline.

Manuel was a professional gangster.

He knew the ropes.

He carried a gun with him everywhere he went,

yet he ended up dead.

Now, if they can do that to him, what chance do you stand?

-I'll take my chance. -No, you won't.

You don't have the choice.

All my men are thoroughly house-trained.

-Whatever you say. -Excellent.

Where's the nighttime policeman going to sleep?

He doesn't. He stays awake.

All my men stay awake all the time.

[ Yawns ] We're specially trained.

The only other thing is the rubber gloves.

Rubber gloves?

The ones you use in the kitchen. May I take them away with me?

Thank you.

Another one.

-Another what? -Policeman.

Chief Inspector Maigret.

I know. I've seen you in the papers.

You might be famous, but I don't want to be seen talking to you.

All I want is a list of the tenants.

Oh, I don't know if I can do that.

Why not?

I'll have to ask the landlady's permission.

Well, give me her name and address, and I'll write to her.

Or is she on the telephone?

She lives in the building.

But she won't want to be bothered after what's happened.

The building belongs to Aline?

To Mlle. Bauche?

Of course it does.

Didn't you know?

And you call yourselves detectives.

We call ourselves detectives?

Imagine -- Aline Bauche, a woman of property.

It isn't a crime to own property.

According to some philosophies, all property is theft.

But with respect, Chief, it hasn't caught on --

as a philosophy, I mean.

Well, how about the purchase of property, paid for by theft?

That's why we're here, sir.

[ Sighs ]

What you playing?

Patience.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

MAIGRET: Right. That's that out of the way.

Now, Lucas, the medical report.

Palmari was shot three times.

The bullet that killed him was fired from the right-hand side,

almost point-blank through the temple.

And according to the forensic report,

all three bullets were fired from his own Smith & Wesson.

Was anything found on the kitchen gloves?

Nothing. Clean as a whistle.

Mm-hmm. Lapointe, anything on the money?

Yeah, Aline has a bank account in her own name

at the branch of the Crédit Lyonnais

in the Avenue de la Grande-Armée.

And once a week she deposits returns

from the Clou Dore restaurant.

No other bank accounts,

and nothing was found at the apartment.

Money must be somewhere.

-Invested in property. -Or in a good hiding place.

Now, Inspector Janvier, you've been doing the real hard work.

These are the people who live in the apartment block.

May we be introduced?

I don't know them all that well, but I'll tell you what I can.

Ground floor -- the concierge.

That old dragon.

Jean Chabaud, who does sports commentaries for the radio.

I've heard him. He knows nothing about cycling.

A prerequisite for the job.

And next door to him, Mlle. Jeanine Herel,

who calls herself a chiropodist.

She's not the first.

Apparently she really is a chiropodist.

Hal

Now, come on. A friend of mine was murdered this morning.

Sorry, Chief.

Going up in the lift, if it's working,

Francois Vignon, who works for an insurance company.

Married with two small children.

And to the right,

Jacques Lavancher, Metro inspector.

On the next floor, Mabel Tuppler,

journalist from America.

And next door to her, a retired couple -- the Maupois.

Third floor, left-hand side,

Jean Destouches, physical training instructor.

He goes out at 8:00 in the morning.

Also goes out most evenings, returning late, rarely alone.

And to the right,

Fernand Barillard, commercial traveler.

I hate commercial travelers. They sell you things.

Barillard lives with his wife.

She's Belgian, sings all day. No children.

And directly above them, the Palmari apartment,

scene of the crime.

MAIGRET: And under strict surveillance.

JANVIER: And on the same floor, Gino Massoletti,

Paris representative for an Italian car firm.

Newly wed. Very pretty wife.

And moving up, top floor left,

Tony Pasquier, second barman at the Ritz.

Wife and two children.

Top floor right, James Stuart. Englishman and bachelor.

Leaves his apartment at 5:00 in the afternoon, returns at dawn.

No known profession.

Finally, the garrets in the attic --

the first four are occupied by maids who work in the building.

And next to them, Jeff Claes.

Old man, war refugee.

Lives alone. Deaf and dumb.

Ideal witness.

And finally, Mlle. Josette,

the oldest inhabitant.

Collects caged birds, does her own cleaning and shopping,

and refuses to use the lift.

MAIGRET: Do you realize what we're looking at?

An apartment building in the Place de I'Auvergne.

A cross section of Paris --

men, women, and children,

all with their own history, their own morality.

I make it 30 in all.

I've lost count.

Statistically, one or two of them are bound to be criminals.

What about murderers? Statistically.

The examining magistrate won't accept statistics as evidence.

Nor will I.

I have to meet Lapointe in the Clou Dare at 7:00,

which gives me a couple of hours to chat the neighbors

and perform a small official duty.

-Chief Inspector. -Everything all right?

Yes, sir.

Thank you, Jacques. Well done.

Ah. Thank you.

-Excuse me. -Ah.

Who's winning?

Next time send somebody who can play poker.

Aline, it's my official duty to tell you

that the postmortem examination is now complete.

So, now you're going to arrest me?

You have to decide where you want the body.

You can call the undertakers in the morning.

Well, he lived here, didn't he? He can come home.

Is there anything I can do to help?

Inform the family?

He had no family. I was his family.

Or his solicitor? The staff at the Clou Dore?

Newspapers?

I don't know why you're asking me.

You'll do what you like, anyway.

Well, if there is anything I can do,

I shall be in the building for the next hour.

In the building?

Talking to the tenants. Your tenants.

You pursue your official duties, Chief Inspector,

and I'll pursue mine.

-Have you eaten today? -l1 can take care of myself.

Inspector Janvier will be here this evening.

He makes a wonderful omelet.

Go to hell.

[ Woman singing indistinctly ]

[ Vacuum cleaner whirring ]

[ Rings ]

[ Whirring, singing stop I]

Good afternoon. Or is it evening?

-What are you selling? -Police Judiciaire.

Ahh. Is it about what happened this morning?

What do you know about what happened this morning?

Well, I heard all the noise and fuss, so I had a look.

I'm a bit of a nosey parker. Is that terrible?

From my point of view, it's admirable, Mme. Barillard.

-It is Mme. Barillard? -Of course it is.

But it's always wise to check, especially in Paris.

-Come in. -Thank you.

[ Door closes ]

Did you know Manuel Palmari?

No. He never went out.

We sometimes heard him shouting.

-Shouting? -Yeah, they had rows.

Even though they weren't married?

We don't have rows. Do you?

Oh, my wife and I have what you'd call animated discussions.

Your husband home from work yet?

He's a traveler, so he doesn't work regular hours.

-What does he sell? -Little boxes.

His firm's about to change their name.

They're going to call themselves packaging consultants,

but basically it's still boxes.

Mm.

So, what did you hear this morning,

in your role as a nosey parker?

Well, I heard the noise.

What noise?

Your colleagues. Some of them are quite loud.

No, thank you. That's true.

So I opened my door, and I peeped out.

They were carrying the body out of the apartment.

There seemed to be some sort of a debate

as to whether it would be bad taste to use the lift.

Yes, we often face philosophical dilemmas of that kind.

Tell me -- What did you hear earlier this morning?

Earlier?

Oh, I went shopping early, about 8:00.

Had your husband left for work yet?

Well, he was finishing his breakfast as I left.

I returned about half past 9:00.

And then of course he'd gone?

Oh, yes, he'd be deep into the suburbs by then.

After you returned, did you hear any shots fired?

No.

But I had the wireless on and I sing and I talk to myself,

and I'm not sure I'd recognize shots if I heard them.

I mean, you don't expect your neighbors

to be murdered, do you?

Not in an ideal world, no.

But it isn't, is it -- an ideal world?

No. Alas, it isn't.

Am I permitted to give some advice?

Please feel free.

Mlle. Josette, who lives in the attic --

Now, she is the nosiest parker in the building.

And she's not quite as mad as she seems.

-Thank you, madame. -My pleasure.

Ahl Let me guess -- Mr. Stuart?

-Yes, I'm Stuart. -Chief Inspector Maigret.

Jolly good.

Investigating on the murder of Manuel Palmari.

Sorry. Never heard of the chap.

Are you going out for the evening?

Grab something to eat, then off to work.

What sort of work do you do?

Mainly roulette. Sometimes bridge, backgammon.

Oh, well, I wish you the best of luck.

It isn't luck. It's percentages.

In that case, I wish you the best of luck

with your percentages.

Ah. Keep up the good work.

Yeah.

Don't!

Bam. Bam. You're dead.

[ Groans ]

This time I'll let you off with a caution.

Ugh. Ooh.

[ Bird chirping ]

[ Bird cooing I]

[ Door creaks ]

M. Claes?

You're deaf and dumb?

But you can lip-read?

May I sit?

Thank you.

Do you -- Did you know a man called Manuel Palmari?

What about the woman he lived with, Aline Bauche?

Lives two floors down.

You've met her on the stairs?

[ Chuckles ] Yes.

An attractive woman.

[ Gasps I]

Time?

Time passing?

Too late?

Ahl Too late for attractive woman?

And this makes you feel sad?

Do you know something, my friend?

I feel that sadness, too.

[ Chuckles ]

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and talk to Mlle. Josette.

A chatterbox?

Thank you for talking to me.

[ Door opens I]

[ Bird cawing ]

Good morning, mademoiselle.

Good morning, monsieur.

[ Birds chirping ]

You know about what happened this morning?

I know there was a death.

Did you know M. Palmari?

Well, we all live in the same building,

but we never know each other.

We talked briefly on the stairs and in the hall.

Not that people are unkind.

They've always been very kind to me.

Who in the block is most kind to you?

Mlle. Herel, the chiropodist.

She looks after my feet. Without charges.

[ Chuckles ]

There's nothing wrong with my feet.

But it's a kind thought.

Then M. Claes, the deaf mute.

He gave me a model.

A model?

Yes.

There.

Ahh.

Of your parrot.

It's supposed to be.

But it's not a very good likeness.

The -- The poor man. He means well.

M. Barillard -- He gives me boxes.

Boxes?

Admittedly, they aren't of any great use to me.

But again, it's a kind thought.

Would you like any of them?

Well, I...

Take this for your wife.

You obviously have a very good wife.

How can you tell?

It shows.

I'd like that very much.

Just a small one, then.

Aline Bauche.

Was she kind to you?

Neither kind nor unkind.

She keeps her distance.

And Manuel, before his accident, when he was mobile --

Did he keep his distance?

No. I kept my distance.

Somebody told me he was a gangster.

I've never consorted with gangsters.

I think you're very wise.

[ Chuckles ]

[ Birds squawks ]

[ Tires screech ]

Thought I told you to wait inside.

I've got some information

from Palmari's solicitor about this place.

It's important you know about it before we go in.

What is it?

[ Door opens I]

[ Mid-tempo piano music playing I

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Good evening, Chief Inspector.

Good evening, sir. What can I get you?

-Beer. Beer? -Beer.

Two beers.

I know that face.

Mean anything to you?

-No. -Keep an eye on him.

And how much for the beers, monsieur?

I think we could stand a couple of beers on the house.

Do you have something to celebrate, M. Pernelle?

On the contrary. It's a very sad day.

Why is it a sad day?

We heard the news about Manuel.

-When? -Lunchtime.

Who told you the news?

Someone in the bar. I-1 don't remember who.

These things get around.

It hasn't been in the newspapers.

Even so.

Very well. Concentrate.

I can suggest a few names.

An Italian called Massoletti.

He deals in cars.

A physical-training instructor called Destouches.

Tony Pasquier.

Oh, I know Tony. Barman from the Ritz.

-Was he here at lunchtime? -JUSTIN: No.

We haven't seen him for weeks.

He sometimes sends us customers --

tourists wanting a taste of genuine Montmartre.

So let me try James Stuart, an English gentleman gambler.

No?

Fernand Barillard, commercial traveler.

Or maybe a woman -- an American journalist.

I really don't remember.

I'm sorry. [ Chuckles ]

So let me ask you something else, M. Pernelle.

What does it feel like to be the new owner of the Clou Dore?

[ Laughs ]

How did you know?

It's all on the public record, if you know where to look.

You bought it last week.

Yes.

From Aline.

There's nothing illegal about buying a restaurant.

Things happen in threes. Have you noticed?

A restaurant is sold. A jeweler's is robbed.

A man is Killed.

Rule of three.

Do you see much of Aline?

She came in once a week to check the accounts and so on.

Alone?

Yes.

Always?

Yes.

Always alone, yes. She's a very independent lady.

Oh, lots of independent ladies take lovers.

They decide.

It's proof of independence.

We haven't seen any lovers, have we, Justin?

Lapointe.

That man who's just left -- What's his name?

Uh -- Uh, we -- we know him as Monsieur...

-Louis. -Louis. Louis.

Louis.

-Louis. -Louis.

Louis?

What's he do?

Oh, he -- he drinks a lot.

Backs horses.

Does he win?

He drinks expensive.

Does he drink alone?

Not always.

Who does he drink with?

Well, if he's not alone, he must be with somebody.

That's a fact of life.

Uh, usually young men.

-Ah. -We assumed...

It's an obvious thing to assume.

Did you pay cash?

I'm sorry?

When you bought the restaurant, did you pay cash?

Yes.

I wish you joy of your restaurant, M. Pernelle.

I need hardly remind you

that to run a successful business in Montmartre

depends in large measure on maintaining

a good relationship with the police department.

A word.

-That man. -M. Louis.

He went to a bar across the street.

He made a telephone call.

I managed to get close enough to see the number he dialed.

Ah, the eyesight of youth.

Etoile 42-38.

Oh. You do it.

Ah, hello. I'm sorry to dist--

Mme. Barillard?

Could you tell me -- Is your husband home from work?

[ Rings ]

[ Clears throat ]

M. Maigret. How nice to see you again.

Hello, madame. This is Inspector Lapointe.

-May we speak to your husband? -Of course. Come in.

-MAIGRET: Thank you. -Nice to see you again.

MAIGRET: Thank you.

Thank you.

Well, we've just eaten,

but perhaps I can offer you some coffee?

Oh, that's not necessary, madame.

We're simply here to fill in a few gaps in our investigation.

I'm not sure I can be any help.

Did you have a long round today?

In the Lilas district.

-By car? -Yes.

Uh, what make?

A Peugeot 203. Is this a cross-examination?

[ Chuckles ]

Do you carry a tray of samples with you?

-Naturally. -May we see them?

FERNAND: May I ask whether you've made similar requests

to other people in the building?

Not yet, M. Barillard.

And you have every right not to agree to my request,

in which case I will call up

a very agreeable examining magistrate,

who will send an orderly around with a search warrant

or, if necessary, a warrant for your detention.

What's going on, Fernand?

Nothing is going on.

I prefer to talk business in my study.

What's happening, Chief Inspector?

The men want to be alone.

You work for Gelot and Sons in the Avenue des Gobelins?

Yes.

Ask them. I'm sure they'll remember.

Did you have a telephone call about an hour ago?

I have telephone calls all the time.

-From a friend? -From clients.

Confectioners? Perfumiers? Jewelers?

Are those your clients?

Obviously.

We also had a call from you this evening.

But the man who telephoned you

about a quarter of an hour before we did --

Was he a client?

Yes.

What did he want?

A price list.

What's his name?

I don't remember.

If you don't remember his name,

it will be very difficult for you to send him a price list.

I made a note somewhere.

Don't bother yourself.

His name is M. Louis.

M. Louis? I've never heard of him.

So you said, "Hello, M. Louis. You have the wrong number.

Let's forget the price lists."

I've no idea what you're talking about.

This M. Louis who telephoned you --

Is he a friend or a client?

Neither.

Your denial is duly noted.

Anyway, we shall be consulting your employers tomorrow

to compare our lists with their lists.

Lists? What lists?

Their lists of jewelers

visited by their top salesman, Fernand Barillard,

over the last seven years.

Our lists of jewelers robbed over the last seven years.

I do my job. I work hard.

I earn a good living.

How long have you been Aline Bauche's lover?

If you'd have said that in front of my wife,

I'd have knocked your face in.

Excellent.

You've saved yourself the additional charge

of assaulting a police officer.

If you're serious about charging me, go ahead and charge me.

Probably tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I'm sure Inspector Lapointe

has noted the following -- You deny knowing M. Louis.

You deny knowing Aline Bauche.

You deny any involvement with the jewel robberies.

And presumably you also deny any involvement

with the murder of Manuel Palmari.

Of course I deny it.

Excellent. We all know where we stand.

Well, that'll be all for today.

Don't attempt to leave the building.

If you do, you'll be followed.

Aline Bauche is under police protection,

so I wouldn't advise you to try and make contact there.

We shall also listen to your telephone calls, as well,

just to be on the safe side.

Well, I think that covers everything, don't you?

Yes, I think that's fairly comprehensive.

Good night, monsieur.

Did you mean to frighten him?

Fear -- It's our only chance.

We know the crime. We know the criminals.

But we have no evidence.

We have circumstantial evidence.

Where is the stolen property? Where is the money?

And we're still one short.

One short?

Aline Bauche, Fernand Barillard, and one more.

-M. Louis? -No.

He's a only a runner. He doesn't count.

What are you doing?

I'm trying to complete the triangle.

With my earrings?

There's something about them.

They're very pretty.

Yes. That too.

-Chief Inspector Maigret. -Good morning, sir.

-What happened? -What's that, sir?

-[ Engines revving ] -Yesterday you assur--

Yesterday you assur--

Oh, let's go inside!

Yesterday you assured me beyond all reasonable doubt

that Manuel Palmari was the head

of a major criminal organization.

Now he's dead.

The two things are not mutually exclusive.

There are questions to be answered.

I think you'll find that Palmari, so to speak,

put the business in his wife's name.

Not that they were married, of course.

No, of course. That would be too simple.

I think you'll also find the real organizer

is a commercial traveler who sells cardboard boxes.

[ Sighs ]

The more you explain, the less I comprehend.

If you'd like to hear the full story --

No, no, no.

I leave it to your total and absolute discretion.

[ Muffled ] Ah! M. Maigret!

I need to see youl

I'm busy!

I have something very important to tell you.

Give me the immigration service, please, will you?

Well, carry on.

I'll tell you if it's very important.

Aline Bauche. She owns a hotel.

Call you back in five minutes.

Which hotel?

The Hotel Bussiere in the Rue d'Etoile.

Why didn't you tell me this last night?

I didn't know.

After you left, it came up in the course of conversation.

And since then you've given thought to what I told you

about maintaining a good relationship with the police.

That too.

Hotel Bussiere?

We used to raid that place when I was a young policeman.

What's it like? Has it changed much?

Has it become elegant, like the Clou Dore?

I don't know.

I'm a family man.

Are you?

Yes.

What's the informed opinion

among the experts leaning on your bar?

You need to speak to the night porter.

But I understand it hasn't changed very much

since your younger days.

Thank God for that.

I hate Paris when it gets respectable.

I preferred it tawdry.

But, then, I'm sentimental like that.

Well, thank you very much, M. Pernelle.

You may now go about your respectable business.

Immigration, please.

Lucas! Lapointe!

Hello, monsieur.

Ah. No, thank you, mademoiselle.

I'm on a very strict diet.

[ Woman laughing ]

[ Elevator bell dings ]

Is it for the night or for the hour?

I don't want a room.

Well, you're wasting your time. Rooms -- That's what we've got.

Do you know this woman?

Depends who's asking.

Maigret?

Does that say Maigret?

That's who's doing the asking.

Well, I'll take another look.

Tell me the truth.

Don't tell me what you think I want to hear.

Well, uh, obviously I know her.

It's Mme. Bauche.

She owns the place.

Does she have a room here?

Two. A bedroom and a sitting room.

She calls it a suite.

Do you have a key to the suite?

There's only one key to the suite.

She's got it.

How often does she come here?

Oh, uh, once a week. Does the money.

Where does she keep the money?

-In a safe. -Where's the safe?

[ Dings ]

Mm.

-In the suite. -Mm-hmm.

Does she come here alone?

-Sometimes. -Sometimes not?

Sometimes not.

With a man?

[ Footsteps I]

Yes.

Always the same man?

[ Sighs ]

-Yes. -Description.

I'm not very good at descriptions.

Try. Start with age. How old is he?

In his 30s?

Fat? Thin? Tall? Short? Smart? Scruffy?

Flash.

Really?

Yes, he's a flash bastard. With a Peugeot.

Thanks very much.

There will be a policeman watching the hotel.

Don't worry. It's nothing to do with you.

And if anyone asks,

you haven't seen me.

That applies to everyone who comes here.

-Does he know what to do? -Yep.

Do it.

[ Tires screech ]

Lucas, this morning I completed the triangle.

What triangle, Chief?

Aline Bauche, Fernand Barillard, and the stonecutter --

the man who resets and recuts all the stolen jewels.

But, Chief, I checked all the cutters in Paris.

Double-checked.

Oh, the official ones, yes.

But our man isn't on the records.

Our man works alone, at home, in a back room.

How did you find him, then?

Last night, I was looking at a pair of my wife's earrings.

They intrigued me.

I knew there was something about them.

Then this morning I remembered --

We bought them from a little old man in the Rue Lafayette.

He was a war refugee, a refugee from Brussels --

one of the main stonecutting centers in Europe.

Sorry, Chief. I still haven't made the link.

Claes.

The old deaf-and-dumb man in the attic.

What about him?

The immigration people have confirmed --

He was a war refugee from Belgium.

Ah, he makes models.

Exactly!

I watched him at work.

Hands quick, precise, steady as a rock.

I watched him.

I didn't see what I was looking for.

Damn!

Madame, have you seen M. Claes today?

I mind my own business, monsieur.

This may be important.

Is there any part of the building we haven't seen yet?

-A basement, for instance? -Yes.

Some of the tenants have got storerooms there.

He's got one -- "Flash" Fernand.

M. Barillard?

-Thank you, madame. -Yes, but he doesn't --

[ Doorbell rings I]

-Yes? -Your husband.

-Well, he's in bed. -We want to see him here now.

-I'll ask him, but -- -Tell him to get his keys.

We need to look in the basement.

MME. BARILLARD: Could you wait until he's properly dressed?

MAIGRET: No.

This is madness.

For once, M. Barillard, you and I are in total accord.

Where's your storeroom?

'Round the corner, second on the right.

Lucas.

Chief.

He was a craftsman.

Perhaps even an artist.

Chief Inspector, I hardly know --

Get that bastard out of my sight!

-Come on! -He asked to borrow my room.

I know nothing about him!

I demand to see my lawyer!

Let me see my bloody lawyer, damn youl

Forgive me, my friend.

Perhaps you can hear me now.

M. Maigret, where's Fernand?

Give me 10 minutes, madame. I'll explain everything.

[ Dog barking ]

-Is she behaving herself? -She's gone a bit quiet.

-How was the omelet? -Magnificent.

Can I take it for granted

she hasn't left the apartment or used the phone?

How long have I worked for you?

Forgive me, Inspector.

It's all over, Aline.

What is?

Everything. The day of judgment is at hand.

I wonder when it turned sour.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Manuel.

He adored you.

He gave you everything you wanted.

He even signed his property over to you,

allowed you to come and go as you pleased...

...while he stayed here...

[ Wheels squeaking ]

...in this chair.

Don't do that.

He lived too long, didn't he?

You realized that he could go on for another 15 years.

Maybe the best thing to do would be to sell everything,

take the money, run off,

and find true love with a man of your own age.

I didn't kill him.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Whether or not you pulled the trigger is irrelevant.

You're certainly guilty.

[ Wheels squeaking ]

A confession would save a lot of time.

Something like, "On the morning in question,

I left the apartment as usual to go shopping,

slipped his revolver into my handbag,

and later, out on the landing,

passed it to my friend, neighbor, and lover,

Fernand Barillard.

I don't know what happened next. You'll have to ask him.”

How's that for a possible confession?

What have you done with Fernand?

He's at police headquarters.

I'll be talking to him later about both murders.

Both?

The old man -- the stone setter.

But he was --

Innocent. Is that what you were going to say?

I don't know what I was gonna say!

Time to go.

...need to shower and get dressed.

We'll wait.

-It wasn't my ideal -I don't care.

-Fernand did everything. -But you helped him.

Between you and Barillard, we have two murders --

one innocent man --

And one gangster. You said so yourself.

Oh, to be sure, a gangster.

But I liked him.

For awhile I thought I might get to like you, Aline.

But I could never like your traveling salesman.

Just look at what he sold you.

Now, go and make yourself pretty for the examining magistrate.

Now, I've told you everything I know about your husband.

Will you tell me everything you know about M. Claes?

[ Sighs ] Do I have to?

Get it all out of your system as quickly as possible.

Makes it easier to start again.

Before you were married, was your name Claes?

Yes.

So the old man was your grandfather or uncle perhaps?

-No relation. -No?

We pretended.

Tell me.

In 1940,

I was at the railway station in Douai on the Belgian border.

-The bombing? -Mm-hmm.

I was 8 years old.

I can't remember very much about it.

I've read about it since. I...

I don't know whether I remember what happened

or I remember what I've read.

Is that strange?

Not at all.

Hundreds of refugees were killed, including my family.

I remember wandering about, looking for my parents, and...

...searching for them and not finding them and...

And then I remember looking for a grown-up, any grown-up,

and -- and there was this man.

His head was bleeding and he looked lost,

and he seemed very old,

though I suppose he wasn't, but to a child...

And so you adopted each other.

I suppose we did.

Even though he couldn't speak.

It was a question of survival.

I was 8 years old. He was Jewish.

I see.

Do you remember his real name?

He wrote it for me on a piece of paper for me -- Victor Krulak.

He was born in Antwerp, but his family was from Latvia.

His father and his grandfather

had worked in the diamond business.

I remember he kept a few gold pieces

sewn into a canvas belt under his shirt.

They were his savings.

They kept us going through the war.

And so he brought you up, sent you to school?

Yes.

Then after the war he did odd jobs

for various jewelers in Paris.

When I left school, I started work as a salesgirl

at a jeweler's in the Boulevard Beaumarchais.

And one day in walked a handsome young salesman --

Fernand Barillard.

We'll leave the rest of the story for another day, shall we?

[ Voice breaking ] Will there be another day?

Undoubtedly.

[ Sighs ]

After today, I'm not sure I want any more days.

There will.

[ Sighs ]

I promise.

I hope this is goodbye and not au revoir.

As soon as my men have finished their work in the basement.

Good.

Although I might allow myself a beer before I leave the square.

It's been a pleasure, madame.

Did we get the medical reports?

The old man was killed by a blow to the head.

Whoever it was tried to make it look as if he'd hung himself.

Barillard. I hate amateurs.

-I mean, why kill him? -He was an accomplice.

-He couldn't speak. -He could express himself.

That's something people are very frightened of.

-Two beers, please, Albert. -Monsieur.

[ Grunts ]

I shall miss this place.

-The apartment block? -No. The bistro.

Of course.

True sophistication.

-The bistro? -No. The apartment building.

True sophistication is absolute simplicity.

Like a Picasso drawing. Half a dozen lines. Genius.

The jewel robberies were a work of genius?

They had the merit of simplicity.

Too simple for me to see.

Everything we wanted was in that block.

We stared at it for years, and we didn't see it.

-Monsieur. -Thank you.

Well...

Well done, Lapointe. And welcome.

Thank you.

You can now have 24 hours sleep.

What about you, sir?

Oh, office, preliminary interviews,

paperwork for M. Comeliau.

Is it any wonder I prefer the company of elderly gangsters?

Aah!

What have you told them, you stupid bitch?!

Why did you kill the old man, you --

-[ Spits ] -[ Spits ]

Get off mel

Hold her back, Janvier!

Janvier, get her back!

Aah!

Cow! You stupid cow!

Separate cells, I think.

I'll kill you for this! Do you hear me?!

You're dead! Do you hear me?!

You're dead!

Bitch!

COMELIAU: Come in, Chief Inspector.

Good evening, sir.

-Please sit down. -[ Door closes I]

Did you enjoy the opera?

Ah. [ Clears throat ]

Well, I was enjoying the opera very much indeed

until I got your message.

However, a very efficient piece of work, Chief Inspector.

Thank you, sir.

Eventually.

One can't always rush these matters.

Hmm.

Item one -- the jewel robberies.

You've identified the items found in the safe

in the Hotel Bussiere?

They were part of an earlier robbery.

There was a large amount of cash, too.

The hotel was their operational headquarters.

Mm-hmm.

And the emeralds in the basement.

Yes, that's fine.

Item two -- the murder of Manuel Palmari.

Now, each of the accused --

Aline Bauche and Fernand Barillard --

accuses the other of the killing?

Well, so would I, under the circumstances.

Could you outline the alternative possibilities?

First alternative -- Aline walks into Palmari's study,

shoots him three times.

Second alternative --

Aline slips the gun into her handbag,

passes it to Barillard, who's waiting,

by prior arrangement, in the hallway.

She also gives him a door key.

Barillard lets himself into the apartment,

takes Palmari by surprise.

Palmari goes for his gun, but it isn't in the usual place.

Barillard shoots him three times.

You found traces of oil in Aline Bauche's handbag.

Cleaning fluid, as used on the Smith & Wesson.

Which supports your second theory,

that she passed the gun on to Barillard.

Yes.

Good.

But it also supports my first theory --

if Aline shot him but wanted to pass the blame on to Barillard.

I see.

So, what is your conclusion?

I think I shall leave it to your total and absolute discretion.

[ Laughter ]

-Is that what you told him? -Yes.

Even though you know what really happened?

No one ever knows what really happens.

Oh.

We walked here on our first evening in Paris.

Do you remember?

I remember.

I also remember it was on the other bank.

Was it?

Mm-hmm.

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]