Original subtitles

[ 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 ]

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Vehicle approaches ]

[ Insect buzzing ]

-[ Smack ] -[ Buzzing continues ]

-Ehl -[ Knock on door ]

Come in.

Chief Inspector?

A wasp.

I see.

I am returning to earth.

The wasp survives, temporally.

There's a lady to see you.

Ernestine Jussiaume.

-She says you're old friends. -I've never heard of her.

She wants to report a murder.

She does?

To you, personally, because you're old friends.

I'll see her.

It will make a change from real work.

Madame?

Mme. Jussiaume.

-Good morning, madame. -Good morning, monsieur.

Ernestine Micou?

Correct.

It must be --

A long time ago.

Shall we call it 15 years,

for the sake of my vanity and yours?

15 years. A very generous offer.

[ Chuckles ]

-Morning. -Good morning.

Chief Inspector Maigret has somebody with him.

I see.

Anyone we know?

Ernestine Jussiaume.

Who?

Formerly Ernestine Micou.

I don't believe it.

It's all right. Still got her clothes on.

So how long have you been Mme. Jussiaume?

12 years.

And it's all aboveboard. We had a priest and everything.

Alfred's very strict about going to church.

Alfred?

You married Alfred Jussiaume?

I just told you so.

The man we all know and love under the name of "Sad Freddie"?

Yes.

And you've found happiness together?

As much as anyone is entitled to.

Good.

So tell me -- What's happened to spoil it?

He found a dead body.

He should have reported it to the police.

He reported it to me. I'm reporting it to you.

Where is Freddie now?

-He ran away. -Why?

He's frightened of dead bodies.

He's also frightened of the police.

Details.

-Two nights ago -- -Tuesday night.

Yes.

He goes out to work about 11:00.

I assume his work is still housebreaking?

It's what he does best.

Midnight, he breaks into this house at Neuilly.

He flashes his torch around, and there's a dead woman.

Alfred said she had blood on her chest, as if she'd been shot.

-So he ran away? -Obviously.

-And came home and told you? -No.

He telephoned me from a café near the Gare du Nord

about half past 5:00 in the morning,

told me what had happened,

and said he was catching a train in 15 minutes.

I have a timetable somewhere.

I checked.

There's a train leaves for Brussels at 5:45.

She there with him now?

Indeed she is.

Anything to report?

No. Nothing.

Is anybody gonna explain to me?

Question is...

...are you old enough?

So he's in the house. He sees a body.

A car draws up. He runs away.

Yes. I said.

He didn't want to be caught with a dead body

by the man of the house.

Ah.

So the man in the car was also the man of the house?

He must have been.

He drives in through the gates, up the drive,

gets out of the car,

lets himself in through the front door

same time as Alfred's leaving by the window.

A house with a garden and a gate.

Obviously.

Otherwise he wouldn't have mentioned them.

And Alfred left by the same window he used on arrival?

He always works that way.

He takes out the windowpane, opens the window.

Even if the front door's unlocked.

He's faddy like that.

I hope he's all right.

Once upon a time,

years before you were born,

when Chief Inspector Maigret was a young policeman,

he was sent to arrest Ernestine Micou

for petty thieving.

15 years ago.

JANVIER: 15 years?

LAPOINTE: That's what he said.

[ Chuckles ]

Ernestine was living --

and working, if you get my meaning --

in a third-floor room near the Porte Saint-Denis.

Young Maigret went into the room

and asked her to accompany him to the police station.

She took off all her clothes -- such as they were --

lay down on the bed and said, "All right. Arrest me."

[ Chuckles ]

Well, then what happened?

Next hour or so, he stood there saying, "Get your clothes on."

She lay on the bed saying, "No, I won't."

[ Chuckles ]

So he called for the cops.

He called the cops?

Two of us went over with a supply of blankets.

I see.

[ Laughs ]

Yes, but he doesn't like to be reminded of it.

Absolutely not.

It could seriously hamper your career.

The mighty wheels of investigation

will be set in motion.

Is there anything else you need to tell me?

-Yes. -What?

-That time you nicked me. -15 years ago.

I didn't do it.

That, as you must realize, is what they all say.

Well, there's nothing at all from Neuilly.

No shooting, no dead bodies.

Murderers are generally reticent about their work.

Alfred Jussiaume -- also known as Sad Freddie --

three convictions for housebreaking.

Under suspicion for many more.

Skillful operator.

Due to bad health, he lost his job --

As a locksmith with the Planchart company.

Who manufacture and install safes.

I think you'll find that our friend Freddie

invariably breaks into houses

where, in his previous career, he'd helped to install safes.

Yes.

Now, if I were an eager young policeman

keen to impress my superior officer,

I'd have checked with Planchart

to see what safes they installed in Neuilly

during Sad Freddie's previous employment.

You've done it.

I'm keen to impress my superior officer.

Well, we can eliminate the bank and the petrol company.

We're looking for a house with a garden and a gate.

There's only one domestic property on the list.

Guillaume Serre, dentist. 43 Rue de la Ferme.

I hate dentists.

I can recommend the cassoulet. For two?

Forgive me, patron, but today we shall be lunching at Neuilly.

Number 43.

A house with a garden and a gate.

Drop us at the restaurant.

Mademoiselle, there's a dentist along this street.

That's right -- M. Serre.

-Is he any good? -I've no idea.

Very expensive, from all accounts,

but, then, he would be in this area.

Does he use this café?

Sometimes.

Sneaks inside a bit sheepish, has two glasses of wine,

then slips a peppermint or a clove in his mouth,

and goes home.

-Henpecked? -Yeah, I daresay.

Wife hen? Mother hen?

-One of each, I think. -Poor devil.

How old is he?

Oh, 50. Something like that.

Big man.

What do you want to know for?

Are you police? What's he done?

Never set foot into a dentist's surgery

without checking on the psychological well-being

of the man with the drill in his hand.

[ Rings ]

I'd like to speak to M. Serre.

He only sees people by appointment.

Would you tell him Chief Inspector Maigret

would like to talk to him?

Please come in.

Forgive my being protective, Chief Inspector,

but my son always has a nap after lunch.

[ Chuckles ]

Do sit down.

I have observed the same tradition myself, madame,

for many years, when work permits.

Tell me -- Is your son's wife at home?

No. She's gone away for a few days.

Staying with friends in Holland. She's of Dutch origin.

I see. When did she leave?

On Tuesday evening. The 9:40 from the Gare du Nord.

-The night train. -The night train.

Forgive me, madame.

I have this habit

of making small talk sound like an inquisition.

-[ Chuckles ] -[ Footsteps ]

Oh, allow me.

My wife often complains about it.

Won't you come in, M. Serre?

I heard voices.

These gentlemen are police officers.

Yes. I recognize M. Maigret.

This is Inspector Lapointe.

Good afternoon, monsieur.

What are you doing here?

We have reason to believe that you've been the victim

of an attempted burglary.

Reason to believe? What reason to believe?

Information. Confidential.

Not merely confidential -- totally secret.

There's been no burglary.

Everything is in its proper place.

I did say an attempted burglary.

Had we been aware of such a thing,

we would have reported it immediately.

You're the owner of a safe

installed by the Planchart company about 18 years ago?

I truly can't remember when I bought it.

I have no doubt your information is accurate.

-May I see the safe? -It's in the study.

I'll show you.

[ Door opens I]

Again, as you can see, everything is in its place.

They're mostly law books. My husband was a solicitor.

[ Clock ticking ]

Thank you, madame. Thank you, monsieur.

Are you happy now, Inspector?

My job is the pursuit of truth.

Happiness I leave for the weekends.

-May I go to my surgery now? -Please.

Do forgive my son if he seemed a bit grumpy.

We disturbed his nap -- unforgivable.

-Good afternoon, madame. -Good afternoon.

[ Door closes ]

-Well done, Lapointe. -I didn't say a thing.

A silent policeman --

easily the best way to intimidate the citizens,

whether innocent or guilty.

Did you notice what I noticed?

The windowpane had been replaced.

Good man.

Find out everything you can about the wife.

Right.

And tell Janvier I'd like him to keep a watch on the house.

Discreetly?

No. Tell him to make it as obvious as possible.

Oh, and not a word to our friend the examining magistrate.

Maigret, I cannot possibly authorize a search of the house

on such flimsy evidence.

M. Comeliau, I believe there's a strong possibility

that M. Serre murdered his wife on Tuesday evening.

Mm.

Well, your beliefs are a matter between God and yourself.

Your evidence is a piece of gossip

from a convicted housebreaker

who has subsequently fled the country,

passed on to you by his wife, who is a prostitute

with convictions for theft and shoplifting.

I expect better than that -- even from you, my friend.

[ Sighs ]

[ Wasp buzzing ]

[ Paper rustling ]

-[ Knock on door ] -Come in.

-How did it go? -Dead.

-The examining magistrate? -No. The wasp.

-l see. -You found out anything?

Uh, yes, the dentist's wife --

born Maria van Aerts in Sneek, in Friesland, Holland.

They were married two years ago.

She's 51 years old.

And before the marriage, she lived in a boardinghouse

in the Rue de Longchamp.

-Where you're now going. -Where I'm now going.

-[ Knock on door ] -Come inl!

It's like the Gare du Nord in this office.

There's an old lady to see you.

Do I need to see any old ladies?

-Mme. Serre. -Really?

Yes, I probably do need to see her.

Oh, and Lucas?

Yeah?

Don't go away.

I'll try not to.

-This way, madame. -Thank you.

-Does the smoke worry you? -My son smokes cigars.

Thank you, madame.

My son also has a tendency to be a little abrupt at times,

almost rude.

Well, he's an only child.

Perhaps it's my fault.

At any rate, I wish to apologize for his attitude towards you.

Accepted.

Now Madame Serre, what is it you wish to tell me

that you'd rather not mention in your son's presence?

Is that what you think --

that I've come to you behind his back?

Well, for the best motives, I'm sure.

Perhaps to save him embarrassment?

Yes. Quite correct.

We told you Maria had gone away for a few days.

Maria -- That's her name.

Formerly Maria van Aerts, from Friesland in Holland.

Yes, we know about that.

Well, it's true she has gone away,

but I fear the marriage is at an end.

I don't expect her to return.

Well, marriage can be a very fragile edifice.

-She left on Tuesday evening? -Yes.

-At what time? -About 9:00.

Did your son drive her to the station?

No. She went by taxi.

Did she have much luggage?

A cabin trunk and two suitcases.

Forgive me for being legalistic, Mme. Serre,

but were there any witnesses to all this --

apart from your son, yourself, and Maria, of course?

Do you have servants?

Only one -- Eugenie, our daily woman -- but she leaves at 5:00.

I'm afraid you have to take our word, Inspector.

Well, of course I do. Without question.

Now, moving on...

[ Telephone rings I]

Maigret!

Well, can't it wait?

All right. Two minutes.

Would you excuse me, Mme. Serre?

[ Door opens I]

How was my timing?

Perfect. But keep your voice down.

Her hearing's better than mine.

Your turn for the dental appointment.

-ls it? -Invent an excuse.

Then ask him if he used his car on Tuesday evening.

I'l try the old accident routine.

Excellent.

My apologies, Mme. Serre. Ugh.

[ Sighs ]

When was the window broken?

The window?

The pane of glass in the study window --

When was it broken?

Oh. A few days ago.

During the storm, whenever that was.

It was two weeks ago, madame.

Who replaced the glass?

My son.

He bought the putty and glass and repaired it himself?

I expect so. I left it entirely to him.

And all this happened a few days ago?

Yes.

You've been honest with me, Mme. Serre.

I'll be honest with you.

We've been told that a burglar

broke into your house on Tuesday night.

His preferred method of entry is by removing a pane of glass.

His plan was to break into your safe.

But before he did so, his torch shone upon something

he had not expected to find --

the body of a woman, which may have been your daughter-in-law.

Where is this man?

Why doesn't he make these allegations to my face?

How often does your son use his car?

[ Gate opens I]

He's in his surgery.

Has he got a patient with him?

No. He's fiddling about with somebody's false teeth.

But he won't thank you for disturbing him.

What time do you finish work?

-5:00. -I'll buy you a drink.

I'm a married woman.

LUCAS: You are the owner of a motor vehicle,

registration number 3417 HM 757

Yes.

When did you last use it?

I have a right to know the reason for this investigation.

At midnight on Tuesday, approximately,

a car resembling yours was reported

as being involved in an accident.

Which do you mean -- my car or a car resembling mine?

I said a car resembling yours, monsieur.

And where did this alleged accident take place?

By the river.

My car hasn't left its garage since the weekend.

Are you prepared to swear to that?

Who are the witnesses to this accident?

Or is this some more of Inspector Maigret's

confidential information?

It was late. It was dark.

The witness may have misread the number plate.

I don't believe there was an accident

on Tuesday night, officer.

In which case, monsieur, we have eliminated another possibility.

When we have eliminated all the possibilities,

we will be left with the truth.

Whatever that is.

[ Birds chirping ]

We were terribly sad when Maria left us.

Oh, I know she was in her mid-40s, but --

LAPOINTE: 51.

[ Chuckling ] Oh, really?

She was so young in heart.

[ Chuckles ]

How did she spend her time when she lived here?

-Oh, culture. -Culture?

Practically lived in art galleries.

Is that how she met her husband?

[ Chuckling ] Yes.

In the Louvre, beside the "Mona Lisa."

Hal Romantic, don't you think?

Did they meet by accident?

Oh, no -- by arrangement.

I'm sorry. How did they arrange it?

Maria put a matrimonial advertisement in the newspaper.

Oh, I see. Had she done that often?

[ Chuckling ] Oh, dozens of times!

Oh, she said she didn't believe it.

It was only for fun.

[ Chuckles ] She was so young in heart.

[ Chuckles ]

Did she have any special friends in Holland?

Oh, yes. Gertrude Oosting.

-You know her? -Oh, no, of course not.

[ Chuckles ] I've never been to Amsterdam.

But Maria used to write to her every day.

I think she used to write to her about her adventures.

Adventures in the galleries of the Louvre?

[ Chuckling ] Oh, to say the very least.

Is she all right?

Has something happened?

JANVIER: What sort of chap is he?

Big, strong.

Knows his rights.

So does the chief.

[ Footsteps I]

Excuse me.

Got a date.

I promised to buy you a drink.

I don't like policemen.

How about your employers? Do you like them?

They stink.

-What, the old lady as well? -She's a bitch.

What about the daughter-in-law?

-She a bitch too? -No. She's a stupid, fat cow.

So, what's all the fuss about?

Maria Serre seems to have disappeared.

-She's gone to Holland. -Perhaps.

-Did you help her pack? -No. She did her own.

How much luggage she take?

Two suitcases and a trunk.

You see her go?

No. I always leave at 5:00.

Look, there's a possibility she may have been murdered.

What?

What, you think they did it?

Got no proof.

Do you want me to get you some?

I want you to tell me the truth.

What about?

Start with the study window.

Study window?

We think it may have been broken late Tuesday night,

and M. Serre mended it Wednesday morning.

Oh, I always do the windows on Fridays.

So you didn't notice if it'd been broken?

Pity.

Does he do all his own repairs?

Oh, yes.

They're too mean to pay proper workmen.

He even unblocks the drains himself.

Don't happen to know where he gets his materials, do you?

Glass, putty?

Yes.

A builders yard off the Rue de Refuge.

Excuse me.

Is M. Serre a customer here?

The dentist?

Yes, sir. He has an account.

Has he bought anything recently?

Yes. He came in for some glass.

After the storm a couple of weeks ago.

I see.

-Nothing since then? -Not that I know of.

Look, this could be important.

Would you mind checking your ledger for me, please?

[ Horn honks I]

Oh, yes.

Sorry.

Yes. He was in again this week.

-When? -Wednesday.

He bought another pane the same size.

-But you didn't serve him? -No.

Look. See?

He was the first customer of the day.

Well, he must have got here before we were open.

Before you were open?

Well, the boss is here. He's always early.

I don't get here till 8:00.

Well, tell your boss I'll need a photograph of this page.

I'll send someone over.

In the meantime, guard this ledger with your life.

All right.

[ Slowly ] What time do you expect Mme. Oosting

to return home?

Darling, can you read the bedtime story tonight?

LUCAS: Forensic?

You got someone available to inspect a motor vehicle?

-JANVIER: No, uh... -LUCAS: Around midnight.

LAPOINTE: When Mme. Oosting returns home...

Ideally, we'd like to find bloodstains in the interior

and something on the tires.

JANVIER: I'm sorry, my love, but it's a very important case.

No, I don't know what we expect to find till you've checked it.

LAPOINTE: Can you ask her to call us here in Paris?

That's why we have a forensic department.

JANVIER: I can't tell you any details.

-LAPOINTE: Yes, Paris. -Yeah, it's in a lockup garage.

JANVIER: I'll try and be home by...

What?

We unlock it.

Uh, yeah, uh, but what time

do you expect Mme. Oosting to return?

MAIGRET: We have a situation.

A husband and a wife.

A mother and a son.

Any one of them could be telling lies.

Indeed, we know for a fact that one of them is telling lies.

Was there or was there not a body?

If there was a body, where is it now?

And what is the master detective doing?

Encouraging them all to tell more lies.

"My car hasn't been out of the garage since the weekend."

"The window was broken during a storm."

He might be telling the truth.

The storm was two weeks ago.

Since then he has bought two pieces of glass.

Why replace the window twice unless it's been broken twice?

Perhaps he's a perfectionist.

Perhaps -- Perhaps he wasn't satisfied

with his work first time.

[ Chuckles ] Even M. Comeliau wouldn't believe that.

Or...

May I suggest, as a mere woman --

There is nothing mere about you.

Have you considered the possibility

that your burglar might have killed the woman

and then made up the story as a cover?

Yes.

But I don't believe it.

He ran away as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Freddie isn't the murdering kind.

Is your dentist the murdering kind?

Let's have some coffee.

I'm only teasing.

Yes. I recognize the symptoms.

And I know what you're up to.

What?

You're following the tramlines

in the sure and certain knowledge

that they'll lead you to the depot.

I'm simply pointing out that tramlines go in two directions.

[ Match strikes I]

[ Crickets chirping ]

Somebody's coming.

-Evening, sir. -Good evening.

Police.

-l see. -Purely routine.

Is that M. Serre's garage?

Ah, it could well be.

Do you walk your dog every night about this time?

Usually, yes.

On Tuesday night, for example?

Yes.

Did you notice anything? Anything unusual?

Oh, no. It was very quiet.

I said as much to M. Serre.

Oh. What was he doing, walking his dog?

[ Chuckles ] He doesn't have a dog.

He was taking his car out of the garage.

What time would this be, about?

Oh, midnight. Near enough.

Just another Tuesday.

I now have a formal request

from Mme. Gertrude Oosting of Amsterdam

to inquire into the whereabouts of her friend Mme. Maria Serre.

She expected Mme. Serre to travel on the overnight train

from the Gare du Nord, but she failed to arrive.

I wish to question M. Serre about his movements,

the use of his car,

the apparent contradictions between his statements

and those of other witnesses.

I wish to --

You wish to dismantle his house.

With tact and discretion.

Additional documentation is on its way from Amsterdam.

What kind of documentation?

Letters written by Mme. Serre to Mme. Oosting

in which she expressed concern for her personal safety,

perhaps even fear for her life.

In addition --

Enough.

[ Pen scratching ]

[ Birds chirping ]

What is it, Guillaume?

Nothing, Mother.

These gentlemen, I believe, would like to search the house.

I suggest you go to your room.

[ Clock ticking ]

May I have the keys to your desk, M. Serre?

Everything is open and available for your inspection.

Can you explain this?

It's a revolver.

Your property?

It belonged to my father.

Technically, I suppose it was part of my inheritance.

We shall have it examined by our forensic people.

I clean it regularly. At least once a week.

-Your father? -Yes.

He died when?

20 years ago.

So he'd have been about your age.

He was 52 when he died.

ERNESTINE: Have you arrested him yet?

I'm not allowed to say anything.

Alfred wants to come home.

-Have you heard from him? -He sent me a postcard.

From Belgium?

I'm not saying.

Ah. It's the fashion.

What is?

Not saying. Everybody's not saying.

LUCAS: Well, at least we found the revolver.

He left it there to defy us.

We can't prove it's the murder weapon, and he knows it.

Without a body, we can't even prove there's been a murder.

Why isn't he frightened?

He should be frightened.

What would you have done?

It's midnight.

You got a car with a corpse in the boot.

Head for the river, pick a convenient spot.

Must be dozens of convenient spots.

Yeah.

Doesn't exactly make it easy, does it?

Try it.

It's considerably easier than what I'm gonna do.

Put on a jacket, monsieur.

It gets chilly at headquarters later on.

Am I under arrest?

[ Match strikes I]

I'm ready.

Ready for what?

To hear what you have to tell me.

I have nothing to tell you.

When a man's wife dies, I expect him to have something to say.

My wife is not dead.

Where is she?

I have no idea.

And you still insist

your car hasn't left the garage since the weekend?

Yes.

Even though we have a witness who saw you in the car

late on Tuesday night?

Am I to understand that I am being charged?

No. Officially, you're summoned here as a witness.

If you wish, I'm quite prepared to charge you --

or, to be more exact,

ask the director of prosecutions to indict you,

which would entitle you to legal advice.

I don't want a lawyer.

So, for the moment, let's regard you as a witness.

Witness to what?

To your wife's disappearance.

You were the last person to see her before she left the house.

At least we can agree on that.

Yes.

Let us also consider the purchase of a sheet of glass

on Wednesday morning,

as recorded, with old-fashioned efficiency,

in the ledger at the builders yard.

At the very least,

we're concerned with an alarming number of broken windows.

What's this?

They're yours. Translations of Maria's letters.

Ah!

The most boring letters I've ever read in my life.

Listen -- "Gertrude, darling,

Paris has never been so resplendent,

and I very nearly swallowed my pride

and went with G. and his mother to the forest of Fontainebleau,

which must at this time of year

be adorned with all the glories of a Corot or a Courbet."

Does she write a lot about glories?

"I hope the pastel shades of Holland

will restore me to full health and the best of spirits."

I've got some "pastel shades" here, too.

And more about not feeling very well -- "always tired."

Well, I'm always tired,

but I don't write letters to Gertrude about it.

MAIGRET: Have you always been frightened of your mother?

I'm not frightened of my mother.

You're a secret drinker.

Two glasses of wine in the café down the street

and a clove to take the smell away.

It prevents her from worrying.

Why should she worry?

About the possibility of my drinking.

Your father drink?

A little.

A great deal.

And who in your house is or was a hypochondriac?

You'll have to explain that, Inspector.

There are enough tablets in your bathroom

to stock a small hospital.

I have a heart condition.

My wife suffers from dyspepsia.

Your mother?

Is as strong as a horse.

Your doctor is...?

Dr. Dutilleux.

Family doctor?

Since I was a child.

And you and your mother are very close.

Yes.

Unnaturally close?

Certainly not.

Unusually close?

It's a meaningless question.

But you're not frightened of her?

No.

"I'll tell him I need to breathe the air of my own country.

He'll understand.

What I'm wondering is,

how he'll pluck up the courage to tell his mother."

"The old lady still behaves the same towards me --

meek and smiling -- as long as I do everything she wants.

She's the most selfish person I've ever known."

That bit's underlined.

[ Door opens I]

How's it going?

Still going.

Is that forensics report in yet?

Which one, the car or the gun?

-Car. -On its way.

I knew you'd say that.

Lucas, take over for an hour, will you?

What shall I ask him about?

Oh, repairing windows, cleaning cars, whatever you like.

What if he happens to confess?

Make sure he signs it.

-Try to remember. -Good.

Anything useful?

Could be.

Ah. This is Chief Inspector Maigret.

May I speak with Dr. Dutilleux?

[ Exhales sharply ]

I find it impossible to work until the smoke has cleared.

[ Sighs ]

Chief Inspector Maigret's more familiar

with the finer details than I am.

So let's start at the beginning, monsieur.

Tell me about Tuesday.

Again?

Well, let's start with Tuesday morning.

What time did you get up?

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Birds chirping ]

Dr. Dutilleux.

Chief Inspector!

What can I tell you about the Serre family?

How long have you been their family doctor?

Almost 40 years, God help me.

My father had the practice before me.

M. Serre takes tablets for a heart condition.

-You prescribe them? -Yes.

His father died in his 50s.

Did he have a heart condition?

Death is always the result of a heart condition.

The heart stops. We die.

That wasn't the question.

[ Chuckling 1 I realize.

Tell me about the father -- his drinking, for example.

He drank too much.

Women?

He was a drinker and a womanizer.

Did his way of life contribute to his early death?

My late father signed the death certificate.

Cause of death -- heart failure.

Exacerbated by...

Alcohol, dissipation, what you will.

There's no space on the certificate

for things of that kind.

There was talk of a drug overdose.

But as I say, he wasn't my patient.

But your father certified heart failure.

Solidarity of the bourgeoisie, Inspector,

is every bit as enduring as that of the proletariat.

Tell me about the relationship between Mme. Serre and her son.

Very close.

Loving.

Affectionate.

Poisonous.

Could you send over beer and sandwiches, please?

-Enough for four people. -Five.

Sorry -- five people. Thank you.

That forensic report's on your desk.

LAPOINTE: Reading these letters drives you mad.

I'm not surprised she got bumped off.

It was probably Gertrude who did it, to stop her writing.

LUCAS: Eureka.

You've found something?

They have. Brick dust.

Was your mother in favor of your marriage to Maria?

Oh, yes. She encouraged me.

Why?

Because one day, presumably, I shall be left on my own

and need someone to look after me.

And someone to stop you drinking and womanizing

and spending all the family's money.

That's totally absurd.

Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me. I was forgetting.

You're not at all like your father, are you?

No. I'm not.

And was Maria capable of looking after you?

Was she ever given the chance?

[ Telephone rings I]

Excuse me.

Yes?

Right.

Was she?

Thanks, George.

LUCAS: Can you tell them it's urgent, please?

-Janvier, take over. -Right, Chief.

-Where is she? -Waiting outside.

-She say anything? -She wants to see her son.

Ah. And you said?

-Impossible. -Good boy.

Thanks.

And I know where the body is.

-You do? -In the river.

We knew that already.

Quai de Billancourt.

There's a wharf where they've been unloading bricks.

They found brick dust on the tires of the car.

When were the bricks unloaded?

-Monday. -River patrol?

Just been on to them.

They're gonna send a diver down at first light.

Excellent.

Another 24 hours, and life will be back to normal.

Normal?

You gonna talk to her?

In awhile.

[ Exhales slowly ]

Is my mother here?

Mme. Serre.

Good evening, Inspector.

How is my son?

Well, forgive me for using a medical expression,

but as well as can be expected.

What did he say to you?

That, I'm afraid to say, has to remain confidential.

Please sit down, madame.

Thank you.

I must apologize for the state of the room,

only it's generally used for common criminals.

I understand.

Mme. Serre, you must understand one thing --

If your son is tried and convicted,

he will go to the guillotine.

But he didn't kill her.

I did say if he is tried and convicted.

I know he didn't kill her.

You have no evidence that she's dead.

The body is in a cabin trunk in the river,

near the Quai de Billancourt.

We shall recover it in the morning.

Then we shall charge him with the murder.

You could spare him the guillotine by confessing.

Me?

Confess?

Why should I confess?

Why should I kill her?

Reasons for killing your daughter-in-law.

Let's start with simple jealousy.

You glimpsed the possibility

that your son might be happy with Maria,

might laugh and smile a little,

have what people call a good time.

A good time.

And then there's fear --

fear that your son might turn out to be like his father,

especially if, after your death,

Maria was not capable of protecting him

from those same weaknesses --

drinking, womanizing, spending money,

damaging his health,

and, in the end, killing himself.

Like father, like son.

Isn't that what you were frightened of?

Did your husband kill himself, or did I imagine that?

Doesn't matter.

Perhaps he didn't kill himself.

Perhaps you helped him.

And perhaps Maria discovered the fact.

She was certainly terrified of you.

Was she?

It's in all her letters.

She found your son attractive at the beginning,

then boring, then pathetic.

But you -- She was certainly frightened of you.

And with good cause --

For when you found out she was about to leave her husband,

your pride wouldn't let her just walk away.

Oh, no.

She had to do things the way you wanted, or else.

Same applies, I suppose, to your son.

There can be few men

who'd stand by at the murder of their wife

and then help dispose of the body.

So I can suggest lots of reasons why you should kill her.

Jealousy. Fear.

Pride. And envy.

Envy?

Because she'd be alive and living with your son

when you were dead.

Lots of reasons.

Does there have to be a reason?

Does the law demand it?

No.

Chief Inspector.

I would like you to hear my confession.

We got company.

Tell Freddie he can come home now.

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]

[ Telephone rings I]

-Good morning, Philippe. -Good morning, sir.

How can we help, monsieur?

I'd like to see Chief Inspector Maigret.

So would many people.

I'm afraid you'll have to make do with me.

What's your problem?

I'm Joseph Gastin.

I live in a village on the Sevre estuary near La Rochelle.

I've been traveling all night.

I need M. Maigret's help.

Well, first of all, we have no authority in La Rochelle.

And secondly, Chief Inspector Maigret

is very busy.

I need his protection.

I'm about to be arrested for murder.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

I'm a schoolmaster in a place called Saint-André-sur-Mer.

It's tiny. We're famous for our oysters and mussels.

That's all.

Who are you supposed to have killed?

One of your pupils?

Leonie Birard. She used to be our postmistress.

When did she die?

Two days ago. Tuesday morning.

She was shot through the eye.

Did you do it?

No, of course not. But they think I did.

Well, I'm afraid Inspector Janvier is right.

It has nothing to do with us.

Get me the gendarmerie at La Rochelle.

Certainly, sir.

And Chief Inspector Maigret certainly has no time --

Morning, boys.

Chief Inspector Maigret?

You are Chief Inspector Maigret, aren't you?

Captain Danielou told me not to go away

even though he doesn't have enough evidence to arrest me.

Well, not yet, anyway.

If the captain doesn't have enough evidence to arrest you,

why did you go?

Because he'll get hold of it.

They'll find it for him somehow.

-They? -The villagers.

They hate me and my wife.

We weren't born there, you see?

They've never forgiven us.

Tell me about this Leonie Birard.

She was a terrible woman.

She hated everyone, and everyone hated her.

Why? Wasn't she born there, either?

No, because when she ran the post office,

she'd read people's mail, listen in on phone calls,

and then she'd use all the secrets to cause trouble.

It was her hobby, turning people against each other.

Was she married?

Leonie?

So why is Captain Danielou so sure you killed Leonie Birard?

Well, for one thing, my son, Jean-Paul,

has an air rifle like the one that killed her.

But quite a few of the boys do.

It was a craze they had last year.

Any other reason?

When they questioned me, I said it was in his room.

It wasn't. They found it in my toolshed.

Well, Jean-Paul must have left it there.

Schoolmaster in the village I grew up in

wasn't much liked, either.

Perhaps it goes with the job.

Pardon?

I was very fond of him, though.

I shall always remember him, M. Gastin.

[ Telephone rings I]

Maigret.

May I have a word, sir?

Yes. I'll be straight through.

I shan't run away. I promise.

And you know you're my only hope.

[ Receiver hangs up]

Just been on to Captain Danielou at La Rochelle.

He wants Gastin back.

Says he's got more than enough evidence to arrest him.

Some kid's just come in with new evidence.

One of Gastin's pupils.

I think I'll go down and take a look.

You're not gonna get involved with this, are you?

I believe the oysters are very good

in that part of the world, my son.

Is there anything else?

When they asked me where I was when the shooting happened,

I said I was in the classroom, but I wasn't.

I completely forgot.

Must have been nerves, I suppose.

Where were you?

After the break, I went out for a couple of minutes.

I'm secretary at the town hall, as well as being schoolmaster.

I had to get a paper for one of the farmers, for his pension.

-Would he corroborate that? -Oh, yes.

And then I popped in on my wife for a couple of minutes.

She hasn't been very well lately.

She was asleep.

And that's when the shooting happened?

Apparently so, I'm afraid to say.

-It's an honor to meet you, sir. -Thank you.

No need for them.

Monsieur.

[ Birds chirping ]

-[ Car door closes I -Ah...

You realize, Captain, I'm not here in any official capacity.

Oh, no, anything you can do to help, sir.

No. No, please.

Although I do think we now have, um, conclusive evidence.

-From one of the pupils? -Yes.

Yes, he saw Gastin coming out of the toolshed

where the rifle was found.

It was five minutes after the shot was heard.

Odd, though. And the shooting was on Tuesday.

The boy waited 48 hours before he reported it.

Well, he was frightened.

Imagine, your own teacher. Now, what must it be like?

Tell me, Captain, is there an inn in Saint-André

where I can get some good country food?

Only if you're going that way yourself, of course.

Well...

Thank you.

No mussels or oysters.

It was neap tide on Tuesday.

Nobody gets mussels or oysters at neap tide.

-Just the wine, then. -Right.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

How many nights?

Two, three. Who knows?

Till you've proved the schoolmaster innocent, huh?

MAIGRET: Do you think he's innocent?

[ Laughs ]

Well, why else would you be here?

Let me buy you a drink, M. Paumelle.

Oh. Uh...

A brandy. Thank you.

The, uh -- The one with the broken nose --

He heard the shot.

He was in his garden.

-Theo? -Huh?

You heard the shot, didn't you?

Why shouldn't I have heard it?

What time was it? Do you remember?

[ Chuckles ] 10 past 10:00.

He told me.

Good health, monsieur.

He's the deputy mayor, you know?

When he remembers to be.

To hell with the lot of youl

[ Laughter ]

And especially people who come here making trouble for us.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Marcellin, the butcher.

Is he always like that?

Only when the first half bottle of Pernod's got to him.

-[ Door slams ] -By lunchtime, usually.

[ Bird squawking ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

They were swimming in the sea only this morning, monsieur.

Look how fresh they are.

-Ah. -Morning.

£2 Frére Jacques £

£2 Frére Jacques £

# Dormez-vous? #

-Good morning, monsieur. -Good morning, monsieur.

-Good morning, monsieur. -Good morning, monsieur.

-Good morning, monsieur. -Good morning, monsieur.

Chief Inspector Maigret.

Ah.

The captain told me you were coming.

I'm Dr. Bresselles.

As a matter of fact, I've just been to see Mme. Gastin.

The murderer's wife.

Or isn't he the murderer?

Yes, he told me she wasn't well.

Is that the Gastins' house?

At the risk of betraying my Hippocratic oath,

she is never well.

Ah, good morning, Mme. Marcellin.

Morning, Doctor.

-The butcher's wife. -How did you --

Of course.

That scoundrel Paumelle

has been filling you in on all the gossip.

[ Chuckles ]

So has he told you about Chevassou?

Who?

DR. BRESSELLES: Ah, well...

The Gastins used to live at Courbevoie.

They were both teachers at a very good school,

and Chevassou was a local town councilor.

Strong, handsome fellow, apparently.

Unfortunately, Mme. Gastin developed what one can only call

a devouring passion for him,

to which he responded with great enthusiasm.

He could do what he liked with her --

and did, at every opportunity.

-Good morning. -Morning.

Until one day, Chevassou's wife turned up at the school

and shot Mme. Gastin --

hit her right in the shoulder --

at which point the Gastins developed a sudden craving --

-Morning. -Hello.

They developed a sudden craving for fresh country air

and ended up here.

The poor woman has never recovered from it.

That's all very interesting, Doctor.

What's it got to do with the death of Leonie Birard?

Nothing at all, I'm sure --

except that Leonie used to stand by her window over there

and shout filthy remarks about it to the world at large,

to the great delight of the rest of the village.

MAIGRET: Did you like Leonie Birard?

Like her? [ Laughs ]

She was undoubtedly the most poisonous,

unpleasant woman I have ever known.

In fact, my theory is the entire village conspired to murder her

for the greater benefit of mankind.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must be on my way.

MAIGRET: Mme. Gastin?

There's nothing in there, Chief Inspector.

They took the rifle away.

You see...

It is chief inspector, isn't it?

Hello, Jean-Paul.

-Have I got the right name? -Yes.

Run along upstairs, Jean-Paul, and take your work with you.

How was Joseph when they took him away?

Did he give you any message for me?

He was very calm, very well.

But no message, I'm afraid.

I blame myself entirely.

Because you brought him here?

Yes.

I know why you came.

I know about Chevassou.

These things happen.

People lose control.

It's a kind of madness.

You shouldn't feel ashamed.

Oh.

Joseph had such good prospects.

He's a very clever man. Exceptional.

No one realizes.

I've always loved him, even then.

[ Exhales sharply ] I ruined his career.

I thought we could begin a new life here.

The villagers were suspicious at first, but country people are.

Then they found out about me.

It was worse for Joseph than me.

After that, even the children didn't have any respect for him.

Tell me, is there anyone who's been particularly unpleasant,

anyone who particularly dislikes him?

Yes.

Theo. Theo Coumart.

The deputy mayor.

He burst in here one day last winter

while Joseph and Jean-Paul were at school.

He was drunk, as usual.

He pushed me back on the kitchen table, laughing.

I scratched his nose. It bled. He was furious.

He said he thought I liked that sort of thing.

Oh, no, no. Not if it's too painful.

No, I want to tell you.

They hate Joseph because he's so honest, you see?

That's the main reason.

He knows none of them pay income tax,

and they're terrified of him.

Because he works in the town hall, as well as teaching.

That's right.

They earn a fortune from their farming and their mussel beds,

and none of them declares a penny of it.

They want him to sign certificates,

false certificates, but he won't.

Because he's a good man.

Despite everything I've done to him,

he's still a good man.

And that's what they detest.

I'd like to have a talk with your son.

-I'll get him for you. -No, no.

I'd like to see his room.

[ Knock on door ]

Did I disturb you?

That's all right.

Are you good at grammar?

You work hard. I can tell.

-You top of the class? -No.

Well, no.

Your father would be accused of favoritism, wouldn't he?

Ah.

Do you like not being at school today?

Mother said I had to stay home.

Well, he's only a temporary teacher, anyway.

He came up from La Rochelle this morning.

I'll bet he's not half as good as your father.

Do you remember what happened on Tuesday morning?

Will you talk to me about it?

Look, you -- you do want your father

to get out of prison, don't you?

Do you remember him leaving the classroom after the break?

I suppose so.

And do you remember what happened then?

What did he do?

Some of you got up and started playing around.

You jumped up and started talking to somebody.

Who would I talk to? I'm the schoolmaster's son.

Well, don't you have friends?

I thought you went shooting with your friends.

Who said I went shooting with them?

And I didn't kill Leonie Birard, if that's what you mean.

Who did, then?

Look, Jean-Paul, your father's in prison

on the evidence of a school friend of yours

for a murder he didn't commit.

Now, if there's anything you know, then --

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

I don't know anything, I didn't see anything,

and I've got nothing to tell youl

There, there, Jean-Paul.

[ Birds chirping ]

Maria's waiting for us.

She's Polish. Came here when she was 16.

I'm afraid she doesn't understand a lot.

She's a refugee, and she's been cleaning for Leonie Birard

for several years now.

What did you do when you found her, Maria?

-Were you upset? -Oh, yes.

Well, she screamed.

Then she ran down the road, past the school.

About half a dozen people saw her.

How often did you clean for her?

Every afternoon.

Oh, she did the shopping.

She did virtually everything for her.

-Didn't you, Maria? -Yes, yes.

That's why she was going to leave everything to me, you see?

Her money and the house. For helping her so much.

She said that?

Yes. A long time ago.

It was to annoy her niece.

She told me so.

[ Rooster crows I

DANIELOU: We've talked to her niece -- Mme. Sellier --

and it's a very nice family.

Husband's the village policeman.

Rather in awe of us at La Rochelle.

Honest fellow.

Does Mme. Sellier know she's been disinherited?

Ah, well...

You see, we still haven't found a will,

and, um, if there isn't one --

You mean I won't get the money?

Well --

But she only paid me half what the others do.

The cow.

Of course, we -- we might still find it.

How many children do you have, Maria?

-Five. -Five?

What does your husband do?

I haven't got a husband.

[ Chuckles ]

No, Maria isn't, uh, entirely sure

who all the fathers of her children are, so...

Isn't that right, Maria?

But I know two of them for sure.

Does either of these two know

that Leonie had promised to leave you everything?

I told Theo.

He said if I got the house off her, he might marry me.

He was drunk, though, when he said it.

In my vast experience, Captain,

which I assume you're eager to learn from...

Absolutely, yes.

...a vital ingredient at this stage of an investigation

is a large pitcher of white wine

in a pleasantly smoke-filled bar.

It's a little early for me, sir, really.

A word of advice, Captain --

If you want to reach the height of your profession,

you must never use the phrase "a little early for me."

Not if you want to further your career.

Look, uh, if you wouldn't mind, sir,

there's something I'd like to show you.

Don't tell me -- You've found a secret supply of oysters!

They've all been used quite recently, you see?

But that's all we can tell.

Now, the extraordinary thing is,

if she'd been hit anywhere else but in the eye,

she'd only have been slightly wounded.

So whoever it was must have either been

a crack shot or amazingly lucky.

Or unlucky.

Yes.

Does Theo Coumart have one of these?

No. Uh, just a double-barreled sporting gun.

Would you like me to bring him over?

We've questioned him already, of course, but...

[ Pops loudly ]

Tell me more about the Selliers.

-If you don't mind, sir. -I do beg your pardon.

You say they're nice people.

Is that because M. Sellier's a policeman?

Not at all.

I just found them to be a warm, happy family.

-Do they have children? -Yes.

I told you about their son, Marcel.

He's the boy who saw Gastin coming out of the toolshed.

Ah, yes -- the one who waited 48 hours

before he remembered to tell you.

[ Bell ringing ]

Marcel is more than happy to help, sir.

MAIGRET: Good. Hello, Marcel.

Well, I'll just tell his mother he's gonna be a little late,

and then if you don't mind, I must go.

The examining magistrate's been questioning Gastin this morning.

I'm meeting him in La Rochelle at 1:00.

How wonderful not to have examining magistrates

to deal with just for once.

The relief is indescribable.

I'm sure you never tell lies, do you, Marcel?

Yes, monsieur, I do sometimes.

But I always go to confession afterwards.

Straight afterwards?

Well, as soon as I can,

so I don't die in a state of mortal sin.

But they're not, uh -- not bad lies, are they?

Not really bad?

I don't know.

A couple of months ago, I tore my trousers climbing a tree.

When I got home,

I said I'd caught them on a nail in Philippe's yard.

And did you go to confession for that?

Oh, yes, monsieur. The next day.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector. -Good morning, Chief Inspector.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector. -Good morning, Chief Inspector.

-Good morning, Chief Inspector. -Good morning, Chief Inspector.

You know, I'd like to have a look at your classroom, Marcel.

-Would you mind showing me? -Not at all.

Who's Philippe? Is he a friend of yours?

My best friend, yes.

His father is M. Marcellin, the butcher.

Is he at school today?

No. He had an accident last month.

We were playing, and he was knocked down by a motorbike.

Ah. He'll be all right, I hope?

When the plaster's off, yes, monsieur.

[ Door closes ]

Oh.

Don't let me disturb you, monsieur.

No, no. I was about to go anyway.

I hear they have a few oysters in today.

Don't want to miss them.

Very bright boy, Inspector. Best in his class.

So, tell me, Marcel -- Where do you sit?

-Here. -Here?

[ Exhales slowly ]

And where were you when M. Gastin came out of his shed?

Over here.

Why did you come over here?

Was it the sound of the shot?

No. The others were making too much noise.

All I could hear was the blacksmith shoeing a horse.

Some of the boys get a bit rough, you see,

when the teacher's not in the room.

I don't really like it.

Is the teacher's son one of them?

Jean-Paul? No.

Who does he play with, then? You and your friends?

No. He doesn't play with anyone much.

Why? Because none of you like his father?

Well, it's true, isn't it?

Do you like him, Marcel?

No. He's not fair.

He always gives me top marks

even when Jean-Paul's done better.

I like being top of the class, but only when I've deserved it,

not when I haven't.

Mm.

Did you like Leonie Birard?

No.

She used to shout things at me whenever I went past.

And you're completely sure...

...that you saw M. Gastin coming out of the shed

when you said he did?

Yes.

Five minutes after the shot was fired?

Yes.

But you didn't see him with the rifle?

No.

-Neap tide's over, then? -I'm afraid not.

We just managed to get a few dozen

from further down the coast.

Oh, they look very nice. I'll have those.

Oh, I'm afraid not. They've all gone.

We'll have some more next week, though.

You'll still be here, won't you, Inspector?

Unless you reckon you'll have found the murderer by then.

[ Laughs ]

Jacques, salt!

[ Indistinct conversations ]

Have you fathomed the mystery yet?

I've no doubt that you will, Inspector.

I'm sure the living legend will not be defeated by our little --

[ Horn honks, tires screech I]

...country crime.

[ Car door opens ]

[ Car door closes I]

It's only a motorcar, Doctor.

If I was you, I'd be less bothered about that

and a bit more worried about my patients.

You enjoying yourself, I hope, Inspector?

Uh-huh.

[ Snorts ]

What have you done to deserve that, Doctor?

It comes with the job.

When they're well, it's nothing to do with you,

and when they're ill, it's proof that you're slacking.

Thank you.

And the Marcellin family

have had more than their fair share of illness.

His brother's in a sanatorium,

and two of his children died at birth.

And his son was knocked down by a motorbike a month ago.

Some people are born unlucky, and Marcellin is one of them.

You know, he opened a butcher's shop in La Rochelle once.

Lost every penny.

-Let me get you a drink. -No, no, no.

I am aware that some people work better after a drink.

I'm afraid I'm not one of them.

[ Laughs ]

What is it?

I was just thinking

that patients are often rather hostile, you see,

as if they resent the little secrets that you know,

the little things that nobody else knows about them sometimes,

not even their nearest and dearest.

But it doesn't mean they really dislike you.

Of course not.

Does that include Marcellin?

Yes.

Marcellin has very good reason not to dislike me.

Did Leonie Birard particularly dislike you?

Leonie? All the time.

She was convinced I was trying to poison her.

Were you?

Inspector, if you are going to interrogate me properly,

I insist we do it over lunch at my house.

How about tomorrow, after the funeral?

I'd be delighted.

But tell me --

Who on earth is going to go to Leonie Birard's funeral?

Oh, all the scoundrels and the hypocrites,

the drunkards and the moneygrubbers.

I'd say there'll be an enormous turnout.

[ Bird squawking ]

JOSEPH: Captain Danielou came this afternoon.

He was quite polite.

Well, why shouldn't he be?

He's an extremely conscientious officer.

Tell me about Dr. Bresselles.

How well did you and your wife know him?

Oh, one can have a conversation with him, at least.

He's a civilized man -- a rarity in these parts.

We spent a few evenings with him early on.

Why do you ask?

Did your wife get on particularly well with him?

Dr. Bresselles told me about her affair, M. Gastin --

what happened, why you came out here.

Who told him?

My wife.

She had to tell him. She was so unhappy.

She needed pills.

And who told Leonie Birard?

-Did you? -No.

Well, somebody must have done.

Who else knew about it, apart from the priest and the doctor,

two people we've been told we can put our trust in?

Do either of you go to church?

No, I'm afraid not.

Oh.

Very clever.

But even if you are right, I don't see what it's got to do

with the murder of Leonie Birard.

All it means is

Bresselles is just as malicious as the rest of them.

Doesn't it?

[ Bell tolling ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

PAUMELLE: Theresa, fill them up as fast as you can.

[ Man chanting in Latin ]

[ Hooves clopping ]

Ah. Hello.

Ah. Morning, sir.

I believe you went to see Gastin yesterday, sir.

The examining magistrate and I had a little, um, chat.

We obviously can't find Gastin guilty

on the evidence of a single witness, particularly a child.

Particularly as he's innocent, Captain.

Well, he certainly still swears

he never went near the toolshed on Tuesday morning.

He said he might have done on Monday.

[ Indistinct conversations ]

[ Man chanting in Latin ]

M. Sellier -- Marcel's father.

That's Marcel's mother.

The one who stands to inherit everything.

I don't see Mme. Gastin or Jean-Paul.

I hardly think they'd feel very welcome here today, do you?

Today of all days.

-[ Chanting continues ] -[ Bell tolling continues ]

Well, I have work to do.

Look, I think I might leave you to it, if you don't mind.

-[ Chanting in Latin ] -[ Chanting in Latin ]

[ Priest chanting in Latin ]

-[ Chanting in Latin ] -[ Chanting in Latin ]

-Amen. -Amen.

[ Priest chanting in Latin ]

Jean-Paul.

Jean-Paul.

I'll be sitting over there.

You shouldn't hate your father

because he makes you unhappy, Jean-Paul.

He's just as lonely as you are.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

Do you want to know what really happened?

I do.

On the Tuesday, when break finished,

father went off to the town hall.

I could see him from my desk.

A bit later, Marcel went to the window, the one on the left.

Everyone else was fooling about.

Except you and Marcel.

A few minutes later, when father came back,

I saw him go over to our house and go in.

Where was Marcel when this was happening?

He'd gone over to the other window by then,

the one on the right.

I don't know what he was looking at,

but it wasn't my father.

He couldn't have seen him from there.

And when father came out of our house,

he came straight over to the schoolyard and back into class.

So he didn't go into the shed at all.

I saw. He didn't go anywhere near it.

Marcel's a liar, monsieur!

Very pleasant.

Do you often forge medical certificates

for your patients, Doctor?

Only for insurance purposes.

After all, insurance companies

are such vague, far-off institutions.

Don't you agree? Rather like the government.

I mean, if they can't afford to pay

a bit over the odds, who can?

And this view is shared quite a lot by the village.

Oh, yes. To a man, I'm afraid.

Well, almost to a man.

And we both know what happened to him.

Mm-hmm.

Tell me about the motorbike accident.

Was Marcellin's son really hurt at all?

Oh, yes, his leg was broken, all right,

but it's relatively easy

to stress the possibility of complications

in medical reports.

And therefore help Marcellin

claim considerably more compensation

than he was entitled to.

It couldn't go to a more desperately needy fellow.

Whose fault was the accident?

Was it the motorbike rider's or Philippe Marcellin's?

It was evening. It was dark.

Where did it happen?

On the road out from the village.

Near Leonie Birard's?

Mm-hmm.

-Was the driver drunk? -No, certainly not.

So he must have seen the boy.

In fact, there were two boys -- Philippe and Marcel Sellier.

Marcel told me.

So, what were they doing? Playing about?

I suppose so.

So Philippe ran in front of the bike.

The driver had no chance to stop.

So he took the blame because he was insured

and had nothing to lose.

Yes.

He was a patient of mine from one of the farms.

I persuaded him.

But I've no idea what the boys were up to, believe me.

Anyway, it was weeks before the shooting.

I really don't see the connection.

It's a pity Leonie Birard isn't here to help us, Doctor.

-Thank you, Doctor. -Pleasure.

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Dog barking ]

Excuse me, monsieur.

My husband's not in.

I'm aware of that, madame.

I'd like a word with Philippe.

[ Knock on door ]

Come in.

Hello.

Are you the policeman from Paris?

[ Snap ]

Your friend told you.

[ Chuckles ]

Did you make this?

Yeah.

Stops me getting bored, stuck in here all day.

It's very good.

Why is that plaster still on your leg, Philippe?

After all, it's better now, isn't it?

[ Sighs ]

You've talked to the doctor, haven't you?

How did it happen?

You were outside Leonie Birard's house

about a month before she died.

What were you doing?

We were going to stick a horseshoe in her bed.

Oh. Of course.

The horseshoe. I remember.

I was halfway through the window when she came in.

I ran off, but she was yelling after me.

Then the motorbike hit me.

And I don't feel guilty.

She used to shout things about my father.

And you made Marcel promise

not to tell anyone the accident was your fault

so your father would get the insurance.

He needs a new van so he can have a longer round,

so he can make more money.

Except you'll tell them now.

No, no.

It's nothing to do with me.

I suppose you have to be careful standing at the window,

in case anyone sees you can walk.

Did Leonie Birard see you?

She was always standing there,

waving the horseshoe at me whenever I looked out.

I was sure she was going to tell someone.

What did Marcel come to say just now?

That if he was questioned again, he'd have to own up.

The funeral made him feel funny.

And he will say he didn't see M. Gastin after all,

but he saw you at the window.

Yes.

And then he went to the other window and saw Leonie Birard.

Did you shoot her, Philippe?

I -- I was only aiming at the window.

Really.

Just to scare her.

Can I help, sir?

Philippe Marcellin has just confessed

to the murder of Leonie Birard.

He what?

Does one of these rifles belong to him?

No.

B-But he was in bed at the time of the shooting.

-He's got a broken leg. -Did have a broken leg.

But if the rifle isn't in his room, where is it?

Do you want me to search the house

or arrest him straightaway?

Are you going to La Rochelle, Captain?

I was planning to.

-Would you wait here awhile? -Yes, of course.

If you want us to search the house --

Oh, that shouldn't be necessary.

If all goes well,

I'd like you to take me to the station in an hour or two.

I'm planning to take the evening train back to Paris.

Where's the rifle now, Philippe?

In the shed. Down there.

And how did it get down there?

You could have hardly gone downstairs and across the yard

with that enormous plaster on your leg.

Did your father take it down for you?

No.

Well...yes.

Yes, he did.

Straight afterwards?

Yes. He saw me do it, you see?

He was down in the yard.

Standing by the shed, from which he could see Leonie Birard

just as well as you could?

Now, what really happened? Tell me what happened.

Would you mind waiting downstairs, madame?

I'll be down very soon.

The rifle was already in the shed, wasn't it?

Your father took it out and shot Leonie Birard.

What will they do to him?

You must tell me the truth, Philippe.

He saw her at the window.

She was poking her tongue out at him.

It seems so silly.

But she used to shout such awful things at him.

I saw it all.

He rushed into the shed and came out and fired at her.

Did he aim carefully?

Not at all. He was furious.

Anyway, he's a useless shot.

He looked so horrified when she fell down.

He threw the gun in the shed

and ran off and got even more drunk than usual.

Will he go to prison?

Not for long.

Not if they believe he was only trying to scare her.

Marcel thought I'd shot her.

Is that why he told a lie?

Yes.

Because we're friends.

A Pernod, Louis.

[ Exhales sharply ]

You think you're so clever, don't you?

They'll all stand up for me, though.

The whole village!

You'll see.

I've no doubt they will.

What's that supposed to mean?

It's good to have friends, Marcellin.

I've just been hearing how good it is.

[ Whistle blows ]

It's been an honor, sir.

I hope you enjoyed your stay with us.

Well, just a little.

Of course, I did.

Especially the oysters and the mussels.

They were never so fresh in Paris.

[ Train chugging I]

Subtitling made possible by Acorn Media

[ Waltz-musette music playing I]

[ Woman vocalizing ]