Original subtitles

CAPTAIN MARLEAU

THE HOUSE OF THE MEYER SISTERS

You changed your mind?

I didn't change my mind.

I just think you're rushing things a little.

We're not rushing.

Now is simply the best time to sell.

Why?

Business has never been better.

Which means we have negotiating power.

The buyer paid more than we're asking.

We're making a profit.

I'm just not like you,

thinking like a cash register.

This is my whole life.

We know that, dad.

That's not what he meant.

I see you started without me.

You're an hour late.

Guess I'm not in a hurry to squander dad's inheritance.

You've got to be kidding:

it's only 1 p.m. and she's drunk.

No rest for the weary.

I'll do it, mother.

I do the work around here, me.

I always have.

I didn't do it on purpose.

You think she heard?

Bénédicte Hartmann? She's been gone over 40 years.

Really? Why didn't anyone tell me?

That's why he's buying the brewery.

I don't like that guy.

-Welcome to Meyer's. -Thank you.

-Did you have a good trip? -Yes, it's the big day!

Please, come in.

This is my father, Mr Franz Meyer.

Dimitri Nobécourt.

-We've met before. -I don't think so.

But... your face is familiar.

Your eyes.

Yes...

Where are you from?

Lower Normandy.

Mr Leblanc is late,

but you can try our new line while we wait.

With pleasure.

The grain is brought to an enormous oven, a roaster.

Roasting determines the color of the malt.

Here are a few batches.

The grain is heated,

and the longer it roasts, the darker the beer will be.

I'll show you the malt house.

On the sale agreement,

it says you were born in Strasbourg.

I never lived there.

My parents moved when I was young.

I'm returning to my roots.

We're headed to the malt floor.

That's where we keep the grain.

The humidity level needs to be high,

and the temperature between 12 and 15 Celsius.

I think the sale is compromised, young man.

-What's wrong? -Norbert Marmande is dead!

The police are coming.

And the sale?

Hello, I'm Captain Marleau.

-Did you know him? -Of course, Marmande.

He was the brewery's accountant.

And you are?

Dimitri Nobécourt, the future buyer.

I was to meet with Mr Marmande to sign some papers.

Damn, that's a shame. This is going to delay the sale.

Goodbye.

You'll stay around for the police, right?

Here.

Did someone have it in for your accountant?

-You don't believe it was suicide? -I don't believe anything.

I'm an atheist. Did he have any enemies?

Besides himself, I don't think so.

His son lives in London.

And his wife left him for the town plumber.

How long ago?

Four years, I think.

That's long enough to get over being cheated on.

Anything else that might have pushed him to suicide?

You know why people say I'm ugly as sin?

Excuse me?

Because it's true!

I latch on, just like this.

Like this!

You bet!

Good luck getting rid of me.

I suggest you tell me everything you know.

I won't let you go until you do. I'm listening.

I think he might have been a little in love with my daughter.

Clara never paid attention.

It might seem backward to you,

but Clara's crazy about her husband.

It's the truth.

Alright, then.

I'd like to look at the books, your accounts.

They might be more... talkative.

You'll be wasting your time.

They've never been better!

I left my daughter a small family business,

and she made it an international success.

Our beer is even sold in Japan and China now.

The crisis clearly hasn't affected you.

-That being said. -Yes?

Your accountant's corpse looked less enthusiastic than you.

Sorry.

Just a little less.

Hello.

You should have a reservation for Dimitri Nobécourt.

-Number 220, second floor, sir. -Thank you.

Please send up a bottle of your best wine.

Come in.

There's a message for you, sir.

Thank you.

Come on, this isn't the Cannes film festival.

Don't push it.

How's it going?

Oscar Langevin. Head of Forensics, fingerprint expert.

Marleau, Captain. Period.

Just been transferred. I'm the new guy.

We're going to get along. I like little redheads.

If you say so.

Who's the customer?

Franz Meyer, 75. His daughter reported his death this morning.

OK, then, go ahead. Show the captain.

Here he is.

Hematoma on the left parietal.

You said it. What time do you think it happened?

We'll know more after the larvae analysis,

but I'd say around midnight.

Are those bite marks from his attacker?

No, rodents.

Judging from the shape, I'd say, microti agrestes.

I quit Latin in the seventh grade.

You're going to have to use normal words, okay?

I think they're the work of agrestic voles.

Aggressive moles that bite?

Never mind. Did you find any organic material?

No, his attacker approached from behind.

There's a print. Might be his.

What about footprints? Tire tracks?

No tire tracks. The only thing we have to go on is the soil.

Which is extremely difficult.

You know how geologically varied the terrain is.

Of course I do.

We'll study samples,

we'll find sandy loam,

Pliocene and quaternary sands,

sediment from the Rhine,

and peat formations, since we're at the bottom of a hill.

Maybe even a few clay pockets. But!

I also found this.

There's always a "but."

What is it?

I think this little sample is going to tell us a lot.

I'll tell you more in the lab.

Mrs Meyer? Captain Marleau.

We found your husband. I'm sorry, ma'am.

My husband? Have you seen him?

I've been waiting for him for two hours.

He's probably still at the brewery. I have to go,

or the boss will complain.

She's not very easy-going, you know.

Mrs Meyer, your husband is dead.

I have to go.

Mother isn't all there anymore.

What happened?

He received a blow to the head.

Franz?

Are you there?

Smells like money.

Looks like the set of a Hitchcock film.

Tell me about your father.

My parents were...

They met 50 years ago. They worked here.

Dad was a brewer, mom was a waitress.

Bitch!

She means her old boss, Bénédicte Hartmann.

She owes her though,

it was her farm.

She was the boss, and she passed the business on to them?

No, one day she moved away.

My dad bought it from her aunt.

Seems like your dad's a lucky man.

When they retired, we divided the business in thirds.

Pétra harvests the barley,

I manage the malt house and Clara, the brewery.

Have you met my daughter?

I haven't had the honor, ma'am.

That girl can turn lead into gold.

It's true. My sister completely overhauled the brand.

She made it younger, "Pop" as she says.

People who succeed at everything in life are aggravating.

Pisses me off, too.

Augustine doesn't care about success.

She's not interested.

She already has a foot in heaven, you know.

Mother...

It's true, dear.

You're half angel already.

And your third daughter, is she an angel, too?

Pétra, now that one,

She couldn't care less about success.

She'd dance on our graves.

It's "spit on your graves," according to Boris Vian,

it's more effective.

So, besides your daughter,

would anyone else like to dance or spit on your husband's grave

and/or that of his accountant?

Yes, this boy here,

from who knows where, for who knows what.

He's a real heartbreaker I bet,

with those beautiful eyes.

Go ahead.

Mr Nobécourt. He signed a sale agreement.

He arrived yesterday to check the accounts.

-With Marmande? -Yes.

Isn't Marmande a tomato variety?

The accounts are good?

He wasn't trying to hide a little something?

No, quite the opposite. You don't think that...?

Me, I don't believe anything. I show up and I wait.

And people are so twisted,

they answer questions I haven't even asked.

Totally out of it.

Hello?

Captain Marleau, police department.

Got a lot of business lately?

Don't get me started, it's dead.

Dead as a doornail.

So you could easily say who's been in and out of the hotel?

You can always ask.

A guy checked in yesterday, Dimitri Nobécourt.

-Did he go out last night? -Around 11 p.m.

Yeah, around 11 p.m. OK.

That's good.

Anything else that would be... ?

He received a message at 6 p.m.

-Do you know from whom? -Franz.

-Franz who? -Franz Meyer.

We all know each other around here.

Why do you ask?

No reason. I like juicy tidbits.

No meat, though, I'm vegetarian.

Is Mr Nobécourt in his room?

No, he just went out.

I'll be on my way then.

-Thanks. -Sure.

Have a good one.

-Hello, Captain. -Hi.

-Walk with me a bit? -Careful.

With me, taking a walk is already first base.

-We'll just start with walking. -OK.

Beautiful day.

This is a busy place.

What do you mean?

Meyer's brewery: the accountant killed himself.

Well, assuming he did.

Then Meyer himself gets killed just after.

Weird, isn't it? You think they're related?

You're the cop. And I just got here.

Why do you want to settle down in the area anyway?

-Who said I'm settling down? -I don't know.

-Are you from around here? -No.

I've done well in life, mainly to please my mother.

I wanted a change after she died.

I saw the ad and I figured, why not?

Do you have a connection to the Meyer family?

Why would I?

I only met Clara just two months ago.

Why this brewery in particular?

What's it got?

I'm a business man, and it's a good business.

A good business.

That's strange. If it's a good business...

Why are they selling?

You should ask them that.

Anyway, what were you doing last night?

My alibi?

I got to my hotel, unpacked my things and went for a walk.

-Alone? -Yes.

Walking?

That's weird. Your shoes are squeaky clean.

My mother said a man should have clean hands and polished shoes.

I try to stick to that.

My grandmother said don't be deceived by appearances.

I have a little collection.

I need your DNA to add to it.

Open wide. There.

-Thank you. -See you.

I'm not done.

Your prints.

Comrade.

Stay put, it's fine.

Oscar?

News?

Norbert Marmande, 44, suicide.

Suicide. You're definitely sure?

Without a doubt. Point blank range.

Traces of gunpowder on hand.

Alrighty. And our other customer, Franz Meyer?

Homicide, confirmed. Time of death, between 10:30 and 11:30 p.m.

The soil accelerated decomposition.

Is that yours?

You're not as stuck-up as you look.

What about the prints?

The prints.

They're not the victim's.

But they aren't registered.

We need to get prints from the whole family and compare.

Add this one to your list while you're at it.

It's Nobécourt's DNA. The guy who bought the brewery.

The day the accountant committed suicide.

You said it, pal.

What about the soil?

We tested the samples.

We found plant litter,

which is normal in a pine grove where the soil is acidic,

poor in nitrogen and other minerals.

But that's not all.

We also found

sandy sediments, like this one,

even,

coarse, like this one,

a result of water falling from the sandstone Vosges mountains.

Did you take cinema as an elective at the police academy?

Cause the suspense is killing me.

Well, actually, we also found:

pollen!

That's the big reveal?

You don't get it.

It's Calluna Vulgaris pollen.

Also known as heather.

Ergo, the murderer was covered in pollen.

Ergo, he was in a place

where pink heather is grown.

-Bring anything to mind? -Of course!

I'm not as stupid as I look.

Could've fooled me.

Beautiful flowers. No thorns.

Daddy loved heather.

Apparently you were completely against selling the brewery,

is that true?

This is my childhood.

Places have souls, and mine is not for sale.

-Hi, Pétra. -How are you?

-Fine, you? -Good.

We've just learned of Franz Meyer's murder in the Haguenau woods.

The Alsatian was well-known in the region for his Benedict beers.

Up next, the weather.

Plus that makes... how much?

Times three...

This stupid thing doesn't work.

How much? With Guy.

It's not that. Two mixed aperitifs.

Times three.

Holy mother, I can't remember anything. Come on!

Where's his number?

Oscar?

Yeah, it's Marleau.

Do you know anything about accounting?

Can you give me a hand?

It's... wait.

It's 3:10 a.m. why?

No, I'm not drunk.

What's that supposed to mean?

I have a life, too!

Can you help us?

So you can criticize?

"Not like that."

"Remove the seeds." Nothing's ever right.

Because you go too fast.

You think people care if there are seeds?

Forget it, then!

Cut it out.

You should be ashamed.

You're right.

I'm sorry.

It's just...

To think dad died alone...

I hope they find who did this.

He won't be long now.

Rudolphe? I know, he's late.

No, Franz.

What's wrong?

Why do you all look so sad?

What happened?

My little girls.

-Where's dad? -He'll be here soon.

...allows all his children

to leave this earth in peace.

You, Christ our God,

king for eternity and beyond,

and who, in his mercy, gives us

more than we ask.

-Where were you? -Parking the car.

-We've been waiting. -Where are the kids?

Here, of course. You could've made an effort.

A minimum.

My condolences. Nice ceremony. There were a lot of people.

I was talking to your sister, Augustine,

and she said your father acted strange

the first time he saw Mr Nobécourt. Is that true?

Yes, it is.

He seemed to recognize him, but he'd never met him.

I was the one who'd been in contact with Dimitri.

How did Dimitri react?

He seemed unsettled, too.

Ah, okay...

And you, sir,

in your opinion, why did the accountant kill himself?

That's no secret.

He was madly in love with Clara.

The sale must have freaked him out.

He'd never see her again.

Is that true?

Maybe, I don't know.

OK.

I'll let you be now.

Wait, I wanted to ask you something.

Why does Mr Nobécourt want to offer so much for the brewery?

Money!

What else?

Oh, right, money. This brewery's worth a lot of money.

So why do you want to get rid of it, if it's worth so much?

We've done all we can here.

I wanted to take on a new challenge.

Maybe corporate coaching.

-Right, coaching. -Yeah.

I think beer is better, personally, but coaching...

We wanted to do something different.

Don't try to justify yourself, only liars do that.

I don't mean you.

See you. Get home safe.

Here.

This'll do you good.

Did you know Bénédicte Hartmann?

Of course I know her, she's my boss.

-What about her? -Tell me about her.

A bitch.

One day, she saw Franz and I by the lake.

How that man got under my skin.

She went into one of her rages when she saw us.

-Why do you ask? -No reason.

What happened to her?

She left with a man.

A customer. Just like that.

Left the land and brewery behind.

An unbearable woman.

Children?

A little girl, I think.

She took her.

The father?

You don't get it, young man.

With her, it's always when she wants, where she wants.

She says men are good-for-nothing vultures,

good at drinking beer, but never at making it.

Get it?

Do you know where she and her daughter went?

No idea.

She wasn't the type to leave a note.

Franz loved this brewery so much.

I can't imagine the tanks empty.

The oven unlit, the bar silent.

That's all that's left.

My parents came up with the Benedict line.

Light, bitter, amber ales. In honor of the former owner.

The one your mother called a "bitch"?

That's funny.

You do know fudging the books can get you into big trouble?

It can cost you big.

We don't just go for the poor, we get the rich, too.

Naughty bosses, for example, if you get my drift.

We can steal the shirt off your back, too.

It's my little hobby. I love it.

Here.

We're going to stop talking a load of tripe, okay?

Why did your accountant commit suicide?

Because he'd been faking your books for you, for two years.

You were near bankruptcy, that's why.

His career was over.

Sure is good.

I love the first sip, it's always the best.

The second is never quite the same.

Like signs of wealth. Smells good, but isn't really my thing.

What do you think?

-Do you have siblings? -No.

My parents plopped me out, then got a dog three years later.

You know what it's like being the favorite.

No, they preferred the dog.

I was my father's favorite daughter.

The nicest, the most well-behaved.

Pétra calls me "Miss Perfect."

Coming from her, it's not a compliment.

I was top of the class,

so when Augustine turned to religion, and Pétra to men,

I focused on my studies.

Business school, an MBA.

My father believed in me.

And you messed up royally.

Contrary to daddy's hopes.

Inventory, suppliers, clients... I didn't know how to manage it.

Things don't look great in your marriage, either.

Looks like heartbreak hotel.

Rudolphe has started looking around.

I love my husband.

He likes big cars,

and I try to please him, to keep him happy.

By faking the books?

Smart move! Does your husband know?

Not at all.

Dimitri's buying a lemon.

His golden goose is a pile of shit.

Not at all. When Dimitri called,

I didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

I told the truth.

I asked him not to say anything.

What do you mean? He knew about everything?

Yes.

Why did he buy this,

this business for that price? It's odd.

Mother.

Mother?

Mother?

Clara?

Mother's missing.

Shit, did you tell Pétra?

She's checking the hop field.

I'll check the woods.

-You go into town. -Alright.

Franz?

Franz?

Franz?

It's me, Mrs Meyer.

Franz. You're late.

Mrs Meyer?

What are you doing here?

I'm meeting my Franz.

Are you crazy?

Don't touch me! You'll regret it.

You'll regret it!

Your girls are worried sick.

I'm taking you home.

-My girls. -Yes.

My girls?

-Oh yes, my girls. Are they okay? -Yes, they're fine.

I couldn't bear anything to happen to them.

Nothing's going to happen, okay?

I'm going to take you home, okay?

There you are.

I already told you.

I don't know. I'll call you back.

Watch the step.

Mother, mother.

You're hurting me!

-Where was she? -Down there.

Near the lake.

Thanks for bringing her home.

Home? This is my home.

It's not hers, not yours. It's mine!

My Clara!

Why don't we go inside where it's warm?

Yes.

Please excuse her.

Wait a minute. We need to talk.

Were you aware the brewery is worthless?

You've heard wrong. Business is great.

Business is great? It's awful.

Before Dimitri showed up, it was headed for receivership.

Clara didn't tell us.

Poor kitten, I understand.

It's true. Maybe she didn't want to spoil her image,

as the perfect daughter.

That's why I was wondering:

Why does Dimitri want to buy a failing business?

And at that price! Any ideas?

I don't know and I don't care.

That's nice. Thanks for your help.

Dammit.

NO MATCH FOUND

Hello, Father.

My son.

Bénédicte Hartmann?

Did you know her?

I can't help you much.

She didn't come to church often.

Did she have children?

Yes, I remember.

A little boy.

A little boy?

What happened to him?

Poor child.

His mother left him at the church one night.

The Hartmanns didn't want to raise the child,

so social services took him.

That's it?

She left nothing else?

Nothing.

In your opinion,

did Katel and Augustine Meyer know?

I went to see Katel.

Augustine was the boy's nanny.

She looked after him, along with Clara.

What was his name?

Mathis Hartmann.

Come in!

-I've been waiting. -I'm here.

You were right about the print on the body.

It's Dimitri Nobécourt's.

I'm not sure I'm happy about being right, it's a little strange.

The guy drops everything, heads to a little town

he's never been to.

Meets a family he doesn't know.

The same night, there's a murder.

It doesn't make sense.

Then again, his print is on the body.

Makes sense to me.

That's your little nerd brain talking.

You're not thinking creatively.

What can I get you?

-You know how to talk to women. -Depends.

-So? -Vodka.

Bartender, two vodkas, please.

I needed to take my mind off things.

I'll keep the bottle.

To dad.

What do you do?

Business. And you?

Not much. A farmer does most of the work.

I watch and wait for better.

-Better how? -I'd have liked to open a bar.

I'd put in a patio. A place for people to gather.

Why don't you?

My sisters and I can't stand each other.

I don't really have a say.

Doesn't matter now, you've bought it.

I'll need an associate for the brewery.

Think about it.

You don't get it, do you?

Everyone plays a role in my family.

I'm the ugly duckling.

What if I prefer ugly ducklings?

Business, not pleasure.

That imbecile, Franz, gave in to that... bitch's charms.

She put on airs, but she was as common as they come.

They met in the malt house... at night.

Sometimes in the afternoon.

That's why I killed her there.

Look who it is again. What are you doing here?

Visiting your mother.

To ask for my hand?

Not exactly.

Leave me alone.

Hello?

What?

I'll be there right away!

What happened?

I heard mother screaming.

She was crying.

I heard a scream, then something falling. Then nothing.

Did you see her attacker?

No, but I recognized his voice. Dimitri Nobécourt.

I figured.

I knew it. Let's cordon off the area and call forensics.

Don't walk all over the place.

It might just be a perfect crime scene,

then again maybe not, who knows.

Hey.

What's up, Q-tips?

-Captain. -I didn't recognize you.

What are you doing? Go on.

There's work down there.

We're not paid to stand around.

That's too much.

Hey, it's the police!

I'm coming.

I didn't wake you, did I?

I'll see the sunrise for once.

-All-nighter. -No more than usual.

-Magical night. -No more than usual.

-Busy night then? -Sorry.

You're a big liar. Nobécourt doesn't count?

-You're spying on me? -No.

Police don't spy, we investigate.

You're lucky, I'm not twisted.

Because... go on, please.

You know what someone twisted would think?

He'd say, those two are lovers, they knocked off the old man.

What do you think?

But why would I want to kill my dad? My mother, maybe.

Speaking of your mother.

Come with me, there's a little problem.

This way.

Thank you.

Oscar Langevin.

-Pétra Meyer. -Miss.

So, what do you think happened?

Well, there's broken glass over here. Signs of a struggle.

Blood's been wiped up, but there are spatters here.

There.

I want to know exactly how it happened.

Go on, take me.

-I'm sorry? -Take me! That's an order.

It's a reconstruction, not...

I'll be her, you be him, okay? I run away, okay? I'm running!

She couldn't have fallen like that.

If she had fallen forward, we'd have handprints.

True.

-So, how did she fall? -I don't know.

If she fell backwards, there'd be hair in the blood.

Like this?

May I?

It's a reflex. When you fall forward, you put out your hands.

-Danke schoen. -At your service.

What are you up to?

What? Nothing.

Stop him before he kills the whole family.

I'm doing my best, who are you, my mother?

I'm a long distance runner,

not a sprinter. I arrest people when I have a full hand.

Look, I don't even have a body.

Do you think he killed mom?

I don't know.

-Where were you last night? -None of your business.

With him?

I don't know why, but I trust the guy.

You trust all men.

Don't drag that up. Jealous?

Jealous of what, Pétra?

I see how lonely you are.

And I don't believe in your perfect marriage.

I know Ruldophe's leaving you.

When were you going to tell us the brewery's bankrupt?

Little miss perfect,

isn't so perfect now.

I'm sorry, Clara.

Remember me, Mathis.

Don't worry,

everything will be fine, Mathis.

Need back up, Meyer brewery.

Oh look, you're up.

I expect eternal gratitude.

If it weren't for me, you'd be at the pearly gates.

What happened?

I was on my way to meet you, like you asked.

I surprised your attacker and found you drowning in blood.

Did you get him, Nobécourt?

We can't find him.

What were you doing?

What was I doing.

Chasing after him, to the brewery.

Then he started digging something up.

I wanted to see what it was: a woman's shoe.

After that, nothing.

-Lie down. -Why?

The doctor wants to keep you overnight.

Take your observation and shove it.

Get my things, Oscar.

Come on, let's go.

Bloody hell.

Oh shit... ow.

We're not together, I don't know her at all.

Captain? Where is that idiot?

Captain?

Nobécourt?

He split.

Anyone there?

You're still here?

Hello?

Wie ghet's herr doctor.

Good timing.

Hemoglobin.

Nonsense. Those can't be blood spatters.

That would mean Katel was killed here and in her living room.

People only die twice in the movies.

I suggest you rethink your line of reasoning,

because reality isn't going to change.

And that, like it or not, is blood.

Watch out,

I eat fat-heads like you for breakfast.

I don't care how young you are, either.

He saw her in the movies...

Flowering wheat...

Did you see this?

What is that?

A bit of cloth we found in the ground.

Sorry.

Yeah, Marleau.

What?

No kidding, you found him. That's great. I'm on my way.

-See you later, sweetheart. -Later.

Officer.

Leaving without saying goodbye?

You didn't have to bash my head in, you know.

What are you're talking about?

Let's spend a little time in custody.

That always jogs the memory.

Let's go.

Why did you decide to come here last winter?

What happened?

My adopted mother died of a serious illness,

and just before she died...

She told you about your biological mother.

What she knew, which was not much.

But it was enough to lead me to Meyer's brewery.

Thank you.

I have three months left,

we both know it,

let's not beat about the bush.

To me,

genetics,

all that stuff,

it's nonsense.

You're my son.

More than hers.

I know, mother.

What I'm about to tell you might upset you.

I lied to you.

I did it for you.

So you wouldn't go looking for your mother for nothing.

But trying to do good by someone,

is the best way to ruin their life.

I don't know anything about your birth,

not much in any case.

A priest

found you on the steps of a church.

It was in Haguenau.

In Alsace.

-But you told me... -I know.

Anonymous birth.

Parents unknown.

End of story.

Well, it's not true.

I lied so you could live your life.

I didn't want you to miss out on things

searching for people you would never find.

There's nothing else I can tell you. Not much anyway.

Tell me anyway.

Please, tell me.

According to the priest, you had an earring

clutched in one hand.

And you were holding a napkin,

with a coat of arms.

It's there,

in the drawer.

My boy.

My son.

She died a month later.

Little by little, what she told me

started to consume me. Literally.

It's all I thought about.

When I saw the brewery for sale, I decided to come.

Excuse me.

Yeah?

I'm on my way!

-Carpentier? -Yes, Captain?

Guard the door. And don't let him leave.

-What's going on? -I was waiting for you.

Yeah...

And now this one.

OK.

The blood we found in the malt house isn't Katel's.

Someone was killed there, but over 40 years ago.

Forty years ago?

It gets better.

DNA analysis shows

that Dimitri and the victim are related.

His mother?

It's true, they sure do look alike.

Analysis indicates she died of a brain injury

caused by a blow to the head.

That means, in fact,

that Dimitri's mother didn't abandon him, she just died.

It gets better.

We found another DNA match for Nobécourt.

There's no doubt about it.

We know who we're going to dig up in the barn.

Your biological mother.

Thank you.

-I'm sorry. -It's okay.

We also found out who your real father was.

It's my big day.

I'm listening.

It's Franz Meyer, but you knew that already.

I might have suspected it.

When he asked to meet that night,

I thought that's why.

I was the ideal suspect.

My only option was to hide my ties to the family.

That way, I had no motive.

Why didn't you just leave,

when you still had the chance?

And look guilty?

I wanted to know what happened to my mother.

So you asked Mrs Meyer in the middle of the night?

You voice your suspicions, only she's not having any of it,

and fights back, right?

I should have defended myself.

That's why I killed her there.

He was mine.

Mine!

So...

You figure out that Mrs Meyer

caught them one day in the brewery,

the two of them getting down to business,

and she killed your biological mother.

You lose it then,

you grab her,

throw her around the room...

...and you kill her.

I was a coward.

I left.

I ran into Pétra on the way out.

I told her to go see her mother.

She can confirm Mrs Meyer was still alive.

Sorry, this is a private party.

Private?

Take a walk.

Private? I'm in the public sector.

My mistake.

Changes everything, doesn't it?

Ladies and gents!

Want to dance, Captain?

I can't stand stewed chicks.

Coming through!

It stinks.

What shitty music.

A coffee, please.

Drink this, you need it.

The night your mother disappeared, Dimitri went to see her.

Was she still alive when he left?

-Who said I ran into Dimitri? -Him. Who else?

-He's lying. -Lying?

Let me explain something.

If you don't speak up, he's going down. OK?

So?

OK, I ran into him.

But I don't know if she was still alive.

He said you were on your way to the house when he ran into you.

-What happened? You change your mind? -Yes.

I'm going to tell you something, kid.

This is serious, okay.

No one cares about your little rich kid problems.

You want to waste your life, go ahead.

But if you don't talk, he'll get 15 years in the pen. Understand?

Ter stand? 15 years!

So, you're protecting someone.

Who?

I'm listening.

After I talked to Dimitri, I had a smoke.

I had to ask mom about something.

I needed to borrow money.

So I stalled a bit.

And?

Everything was quiet,

but the light was on.

I don't know why, but I had a bad feeling.

Instead of going inside, I looked in at the window.

There must be an explanation.

Ja, Ja, Ja, genau.

I'm going home.

-Together? -What?

-You and I? -Ha.

You're drunk. Watch out for yourself.

See you later, ciao.

Look out, police.

No minors allowed.

No smoking inside, either.

Miss?

Augustine Meyer,

you're under arrest for the murder of your parents.

You have a right to an attorney.

I won't need one.

You have the right to representation.

I'm guilty.

The night Dimitri arrived,

Dad said he was going to see him, he'd figured it all out.

Dimitri Nobécourt,

it's Mathis!

Yes, Bénédicte's son.

He has her eyes.

Maybe he has her eyes,

but he has your smile. You think I'm blind, Franz?

I knew who the father was.

-How long have you known? -About her?

Since last week.

When I walked in on you in the malt house

rolling around in the barley!

What did you do, Katel?

What did you do?

What did you do to her?

He got angrier and angrier.

He was going to hurt her. So I stopped him.

I came at him from behind with a bronze statue.

You figured a set-up would frame Dimitri.

You are evil, Augustine.

I knew

father had arranged to meet Dimitri at the entrance. He'd just told us.

So I moved his body there.

I knew Dimitri would be accused sooner or later.

He had the perfect motive.

All that was missing was evidence.

Yeah...

Assuming that's true.

Why then,

did you kill your mother?

She was sick. She'd have let it slip.

Especially once you found Bénédicte's body.

That was you?

Thanks.

You really are evil, Augustine.

I was afraid she'd talk.

OK, so you killed her.

Now you're going to tell me how you killed your mother.

Does it matter?

I like to know what's being shoved down my throat.

I'm listening.

We fought, and I pushed her against the table.

How did she fall?

Forward? Backward? Her forehead, the back of her head?

-I don't remember. -You don't remember.

What did you do with her body?

Threw it in the lake.

How convenient, "I threw it in the lake."

Maybe you used a little concrete, too?

Stop this nonsense. Let's take it from the top again.

You watch too much television. I'm listening.

Augustine confessed,

she says she did it.

You're free to go.

-Augustine? -Yeah.

I'd like to collect my mother's remains.

I'll take care of it. Follow me.

-Has the captain arrived? -No.

-She'll be here soon. -Guess we'll wait.

-Yeah. -OK.

Since we didn't find anything, we don't need to hang around.

When the captain gets here, we wrap it up, okay?

-Captain. -Well?

What's going on?

We dredged the lake as arranged.

We didn't find much.

A pair of panties, a cigar case,

a pretty statuette of a nymph,

but unfortunately, no body.

That's odd.

What do you think?

It'd be a first, but if Augustine didn't kill her mother,

then she's covering for someone.

Someone, nobody, no body...

A crime scene that makes no sense.

What a rotten case.

You should be in the police station, not my Augustine!

You piece of trash!

Look at me.

No!

What is he...

Leave her alone.

Leave her.

Shit.

God...!

What?

I'm in the middle of a family crisis.

Why didn't you say so? I'm on my way.

Second floor.

Mrs Meyer?

Mrs Meyer?

Oh, little Mathis!

Now who is this lady?

Hello.

Come on, Mrs Meyer.

Is your memory coming back to you?

Will you tell her to leave me alone?

Convenient excuse, that Alzheimer's.

You wanted to protect her from that.

A rotten family secret.

You witnessed a murder when you were a kid, didn't you?

No one knew we were there. It wasn't our home back then.

It was hers, Bénédicte Hartmann's.

I could come and go as I pleased because I took care of her son,

and he liked me.

Except that day, someone came in. So I looked.

It was mother and Bénédicte, arguing.

Do you have something to say?

-He wants to leave me for you. -What?

I see you!

The way he looks at you, the secret meetings.

Why didn't you speak up?

Because I love him. I couldn't bear it if he left.

I know it's you.

Katel, I don't want your husband.

Or anyone elses. I'd have found my own if I wanted one!

I want to be free,

to love whom I want, when I want.

I have many loves, but they will all expire.

Your husband doesn't mean any more than any other.

He's nothing.

Mother started the rumor that...

Bénéndicte took off with a customer.

So the house was sold,

and her little boy adopted.

That's why she wanted to buy it.

To prevent anyone from digging around and discovering your secret.

Not only that.

It was mother's revenge.

Bénédicte Hartmann humiliated her.

I heard them talking.

Not so great now, are you?

Ten years of humiliation, of ordering me around.

Sending me off on errands so you could screw my husband.

Bitch.

And her husband, your father?

He was devastated. In the end, he got over it.

Until little Mathis, now Dimitri all grown up, appeared.

He figured out that mother had lied,

that Bénédicte hadn't left.

What did you do?

What did you do to Bénédicte?

You are a devil in angel's garb.

Make it look like your mother was killed in order to exonerate her.

Bravo.

Mother,

don't worry, mother.

Mother.

Take this.

You're going to sleep somewhere else tonight.

Trust me, mother.

That's it now.

Everything's okay.

You know, mother,

Bénédicte didn't die right away.

She looked at us a while.

Full of reproach. Do you remember?

No, that's not right.

She looked at her son, little Mathis.

She smiled at him.

I see her face in my dreams. Don't you?

I dream about her all the time.

She's rolling around with my Franz,

and she laughs, and laughs,

and I get close to her, and I bend over her,

and I hit her, with my feet and my fists,

she has to shut up, to stop laughing.

You have no remorse, not even for the boy.

I'm late! The boss is going to chew my head off.

Let go of me.

I told you, I'm going to get chewed out.

-Customers are waiting! -Mother.

No! Who are you?

Who are you? I have to go.

Franz is waiting for me. He'll be worried.

You can't go out, mother.

Franz, Franz!

They're trying to keep me from seeing you!

I did all that for her. She doesn't even recognize me.

Don't be sad, I didn't do it on purpose.

Forgive me.

I won't do it ever again... dear mother.

What does "happy hours" mean?

It's less expensive.

Great! Drinks are on me.

Hello.

Something to drink?

A beer, please.

How are you?

Hello.

Captain! I brought you a little souvenir.

That's so nice.

Thanks. What is it?

It's not a surprise if I tell you.

No way.

Thanks. Every time I hear a cow, I'll think of you.

Happy hours!

Happy hours!

Subtitling: Hiventy