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You came. My darling.
Thank you, thank you.
Rest now.
This is for everything you did to me.
I hope you rot in hell.
Two days ago, each and every one of you was a witness to a murder.
Now, on my whistle,
I want you to go and occupy your places during the Boxing Day curling match
at the precise moment when the house was cleared.
Is this really fucking necessary?
-How's this gonna help us? -There's more to it than that.
Don't help her. Boss will think she's worth keeping.
You worried she's coming for your job?
-I mean, middle-aged, white, male. -Yeah, yeah.
Your days are numbered.
You shouldn't be here.
I told her that, but Crie insisted.
-I have to know who killed my mom. -Okay.
You weren't there. You were further down.
He's right. You weren't there at all.
You weren't there either. What are you doing?
Positions.
-Ladies, that's exactly where you were? -Yes.
-And you saw nothing at all? -We were watching Bea.
And you didn't hear anyone approaching just before the murder?
Have Bea clear the house, you'll see.
-Go, Bea. -Hey. Come on.
Go, Bea.
Somebody connected the cable from the generator to CC's chair.
-Without being seen or heard? -Did you see me do it?
Once the alarm was raised,
they could've removed them and buried them in the snow.
I thought it was impossible without being seen.
That we could rule out a single killer but we can't.
It's quite possible one person was acting alone.
The killer or killers chose their moment precisely,
when everyone's attention was on the curling.
They knew Bea would clear the house.
And they knew that would be just the distraction they needed.
They watched. They waited.
And when CC removed her gloves, they connected the booster cables.
But how did they know she'd take her gloves off?
Don't let him out of your sight.
CC's husband, Richard Lyon, he was born into money
so no need to work but he holds a batch of patents all for electrical inventions.
So, he knows how electric circuits work?
So, maybe the electric chair was Lyon's idea.
Agent Nichol, run a background check on Richard's finances.
He was born into money but see how much he has left.
Right on it, sir.
Any more background on CC de Poitiers?
I've been trying to figure out who her parents were. Drawing a blank.
Somebody must know.
She called her book Be Calm.
Maybe there's a connection with the centre.
Or with Bea Mayer.
-Morning, Bea. -Hello, Chief.
-Would you like some tea? -Oh, perfect.
CC fashioned an entire belief system
based on a Christmas decoration made by her mother?
You've read her book then? What a load of crap.
You live by her philosophy and lock your emotions locked inside,
you do yourself some serious psychological damage.
Her mother was obviously important to her.
Or not.
Do you know who she is?
CC didn't strike me as the type to care much for anyone but herself.
-You didn't like her then? -I barely knew her.
A lot of people come to Three Pines for all kinds of reasons.
Three pine trees planted close together as a sign of sanctuary.
Maybe that's what CC was looking for.
Only, she found something else.
She stole that from you?
It's from the Bible, isn't it?
-Are you a Christian? -No.
Residential school kinda scarred me on that.
And it's just a gift from a friend.
So you don't believe at all?
Oh, yeah. I do. I believe in spirit. I believe in nature.
And I believe we're all connected, but...
organized religion has just killed and maimed too many of my people.
-How about you? -When I was at Cambridge,
I used to go to the cathedral every Sunday.
The singing gave me a deep sense of peace.
But since then, I don't need a church or a priest to feel close to God.
Did... Did you drop this feather?
Yes, thank you.
You know, blue jays are a symbol of clarity.
Hmm.
I carry this with me.
To remind me of someone.
We all carry something, don't we?
"Be calm and know that I am here."
No, no, no. It's wrong. It's "Be still and know that I am God."
Psalm 46, verse 10.
I understand why God was changed, but why misquote "still" for "calm"?
It sounds deliberate rather than misquoted.
I wish you were here.
-It's Pierre, I have to take this. -Armand?
-Come home tonight? -I wish I could.
-I wish you could too. -I love you, my dear.
Okay.
Bye.
-Pierre? -I thought you'd want to know.
Blue Two-Rivers' mom is back here in Montreal, outside SQ.
Just sent you a picture.
Something doesn't add up.
The family don't believe that she wouldn't call to check on her child.
Could you double-check the intel?
Find something concrete so I can put her mother's mind at rest?
-Sure. I'll do whatever you want. -Thanks, Pierre.
Missy's out there again in this weather.
She just can't accept Blue ran away.
Can you blame her?
I keep thinking about the jacket.
There's an APB out for Blue and Tommy.
If we can find them, we can give the family some closure.
-What if Kara's right? -You saw the photo.
There's no way of telling.
I know, but...
It's a denim jacket.
I wear mine spring through summer,
maybe fall, but you know when I never wear it?
New York in December.
Mmm.
CC's coroner's report.
Jean-Guy not back yet?
No, I think he's still staking out Saul Petrov's place.
What's this?
According to the coroner's report,
CC de Poitiers had 20 times the normal dose of niacin in her blood.
-Niacin? Like vitamin B3? -People use it to detox, apparently.
A high enough dose can bring on a hot flush.
Hot enough to take your gloves off?
Someone put the niacin in her drink around 30 minutes before her death.
It is the perfect murder.
Once that chair was live, it was only a matter of time.
Getting CC to take off her gloves was the final part of the plan.
Now, any joy with CC's parents?
There's no birth certificate in the name Cecilia de Poitiers.
It's like she doesn't exist.
In her book, she says her parents are French, Eleanor and Henri de Poitiers.
So I reached out to the Police Nationale in Paris.
And their response was, "Please don't bother us with lame hoaxes."
Eleanor de Poitiers was the real name of Eleanor of Aquitaine.
She was one of the richest and most powerful women in Europe.
Married to Henri.
They were a medieval king and queen of France during the Crusades.
-So she lied about her parents? -Unless she was more than 800 years old.
Well, she looked like she'd had work done.
No wonder Paris thought I was a prize idiot.
Why would she lie about her parents? Why would she invent fantasy parents
-stolen from history? -Maybe her real ones weren't good enough.
Hey.
Why did you try to destroy these photographs?
I'm assuming these weren't taken for a book.
Were you planning to blackmail CC with them?
No. I would never do that to CC.
They were private. Just for the two of us. And they're all I have left now.
I knew if you searched my files, you'd find them.
I didn't want my wife to find out.
I still respect her even if I don't love her.
Men who sleep around don't respect their wives.
They steal their time.
These are photographs from the curling match.
Dozens of them.
Why weren't these on the key you gave us?
Because they're duds.
We weren't looking at them for a gallery opening.
-What's this one? -That's Richard getting CC her coffee.
-Richard gave CC that coffee? -Yeah.
That was the last shot?
-I said you were wasting your time. -You didn't photograph CC
-during the curling match? -No.
-He was busy doing something else. -Yeah.
Trying to put my broken heart back together. She told me it was over.
Do you know who CC's parents are?
Yeah, CC was obsessed with her mother. I would even say she hated her.
-Do you know why? -She told me the woman was a monster.
Said she tortured CC.
Made every moment of her childhood pure hell.
But I saw that frightened little girl trapped inside
and it just made me love her more.
I don't think Saul Petrov is our killer. I think he loves CC too much.
Well, Richard gave CC the coffee.
If he knew about the affair, that's a clear motive.
That looks like a regular sugar packet.
It does, but nothing to say that it is sugar.
Niacin comes in powdered form.
Besides, CC took sugar in her coffee,
that niacin could've been added before or after.
Do you think CC's mother could be here in Three Pines?
I mean, how many of them are old enough?
Ruth Zardo, Bea Mayer, Kaye Thompson, Émilie Longpré.
If the crazy duck lady is her mother, I don't blame her for keeping it a secret.
Let's find out CC's real name.
It's either on her marriage certificate or she changed it legally beforehand.
If we find her birth certificate, we find out who her mother is.
Oh.
Pierre?
I just talked to my buddy in NYPD about Blue and Tommy.
Yes.
A witness statement from a drug dealer,
said he sold meth to Tommy two days ago.
Blue was right there with him.
-You're kidding? -Sending you the statement right now.
I'm sure Missy Two-Rivers doesn't want to hear her kid's doing meth.
At least she's alive. Thanks, Pierre.
Here's the report.
Hey, honey.
The dealer in New York has Blue and Tommy in Queens just two days ago.
Buying drugs?
Well, at least it shows she's alive.
If she was alive, she would have called.
The thing about addiction is it brings a lot of shame.
-If she feels she's let you down... -Blue doesn't do drugs.
If she's wherever you say she is,
why don't you have your buddies go pick her up and bring her home?
18 is the age of majority in New York State.
We can't force Blue to do anything.
Blue would never put us through this. It's not her.
It's bullshit. Same old lies every family gets told.
We know far too many Indigenous women have gone missing
and we know we haven't done a great job in finding them.
But all the evidence points to Blue running away.
I'm sorry, Missy.
But this isn't even our case.
And without any contradictory evidence, there's nothing we can do.
No.
No.
No. No. No!
This protest of yours...
I'm worried some overzealous SQ officer
will throw you in a cell if you don't stop.
-I know you feel this... -Don't tell me what I feel.
How could you know?
How could you understand what it's like to sit there,
day after day, unseen.
People like you just walk past and say nothing.
-Do nothing. -We would never just pass by...
You're doing it right now. You say Blue's alive...
and your investigation stops.
But I know...
I know in here that you're wrong.
Blue's gone.
My baby's gone.
Why aren't you looking for me anymore?
You're looking in the wrong place.
-For you? -For your killer.
The truth lies in the things we can't see.
You have to listen to the silence.
That's where you'll find the monster.
Sir? Sir.
Hmm?
No luck with the chemists, but I checked out Richard Lyon's finances.
School fees bounced a couple of times, unpaid bills
and they were living way beyond their means.
He made some bad investments and lost his fortune.
Though the way CC was using credit cards, I'm not sure she knew about it.
But now Richard's just peachy. CC was insured for close to a mill.
I call that one million motives.
Great work, Agent Nichol. Let's pay him a visit.
Okay.
We know about the insurance policy.
-I didn't kill her. -Your name is on the insurance documents.
Your signature. Why would you buy this huge house?
I signed over my pension for this place to make CC happy.
What's CC's real name?
-Cecilia de Poitiers. -It isn't.
-That's the only name I know. -What's her mother's name?
Eleanor de Poitiers.
-What does this have to do with her? -Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
You stood to gain a million dollars. You were angry.
You knew about her affair with Saul Petrov, didn't you?
You felt humiliated.
And you had the perfect opportunity to spike her coffee.
-That's just sugar. -You have the skill and knowledge
to improvise an electric chair. You know how to electrocute someone.
I didn't.
-I didn't kill her. -Honestly...
You don't seem too cut up about her death.
You're right, Detective. I'm not cut up. I'm relieved.
For the first time in years...
I can wake up knowing that no one is gonna look at me like I disgust them.
And no one is gonna hurt Crie.
Couldn't have been easy to live with somebody that you hated.
I didn't... hate her. I loved her, but I hated what she became.
A bully who liked nothing more than causing pain.
So you killed her?
Do you believe that we can manifest our own reality, Chief Inspector?
I should have put my hands around her cheating throat and choked her to death.
But instead, I was fantasizing about it when she died.
So unless I manifested it, I didn't kill her.
The insurance is circumstantial at best.
We have no evidence that it was Richard, and evidence is what we need.
Nichol, go back to St. Anthony's and look again.
-Isabelle, you're with me. -Sure.
-It's so quiet. -I like it.
In Montreal, I can't hear myself think. But here, every thought is amplified.
Oh.
I need you to check on Missy.
Arnot told me she's back outside the Sûreté again.
-She's gonna freeze. -Would you pick her up?
Drive her home? Tell her I'll see her soon.
-Yeah, sure. -Thanks.
-Are you okay? -Oh, it's the cold weather.
Gets right inside the lungs.
Those are beautiful flowers.
-A gift from someone special? -No. A gift for someone special.
My daughter. It would have been her birthday today.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was it recent?
Have you ever had a locked room you don't want to go inside
because every time you did, it tore your heart out?
Yes.
And sometimes I...
I check the door and look inside to see if it still hurts.
When my daughter, Colette, was 17, she got to sing at the Opéra de Montréal.
I was sick, so my husband took her. They were driving home.
They were just outside the village, on that road up there,
when the white-out hit.
They never saw the truck.
A mother's one job is to protect her child.
But the moment my baby needed me the most, I wasn't there.
My daughter died more than 30 years ago.
But for me, it could be yesterday.
I light a candle for her every day.
I'm so sorry.
You have no idea what it's like to bury the two people
you love most in all the world.
Sir? Sir.
It struck me that her book was most important to Madame de Poitiers,
so I asked myself which copy was the most important.
I found this in the very first one.
Between Chapter 10, "White-out for the soul"
and Chapter 11, "It'll be all white in the end."
Her real name was Cecilia Longpré.
It's just a copy and badly faded, but her mother is "E" -something Longpre.
Émilie Longpré. I knew it.
Here's the lesson,
never let your emotions sway you away from what you feel in your gut.
Okay.
Great work.
Hey.
Émilie?
Hmm?
Émilie,
you told us that you barely knew CC, that you only had one daughter.
That's right.
You're CC's mother, aren't you?
I wasn't lying to you.
I barely knew CC and I'm not her mother.
I'm her aunt.
CC's mother was my sister, Eleanor...
"El." Had our girls the same month.
-Was supposed to be perfect. -But it wasn't?
No.
El was always troubled.
I hoped that becoming a mother would bring her stability,
but it seemed to deepen her depression.
Then, when CC was 10,
El had a breakdown.
Smashed the house up.
When there was nothing left to rage against, she...
-She attacked her own child. -She attacked CC?
Yeah. El was institutionalized.
CC was taken by her father. He was not a kind man.
A few years later, when she got out, El tried to get CC back,
and when she failed, she started drinking.
Where is El now?
El died in a shelter in Montreal about a year ago.
One minute, she was well, the next, she stopped breathing.
They couldn't find a cause of death, so...
the coroner delivered an open verdict.
Did you tell CC?
Oh, yes. And she turned up here soon after.
For a moment, when I saw her,
I thought maybe she was my second chance.
CC wasn't looking for family.
She wanted to make sure I didn't reveal who her mom was.
She really believed her book and her philosophy would make her famous
and that the whole world would believe her fairy story.
Maybe she made up the story because she was just...
a frightened child, hurt, alone in the world.
You... You look for good even in the worst of humanity, don't you?
And sometimes I find it, too.
Hmm.
Why didn't you say you were related?
-Richard and Crie never mentioned it. -They don't know.
I begged CC to let me be a part of Crie's life.
She said I could watch Crie grow up from afar.
But if I told her or Richard who I really was,
she'd move away and I'd never see Crie again.
We might share blood,
but there's nothing of me or my family in that cruel woman.
I watched her murder that poor child with words.
Émilie.
Chief Inspector, I'm not feeling so good. Would you mind if we finish tomorrow?
-Madame, we have a lot to talk about. -I know.
-Just give me tonight, please. -We'll pick it up first thing.
Wrap up warm.
They say a blizzard's coming.
Agent Nichol, there's a suspect I need you to watch.
Missy.
You mind if I sit with you?
What for?
So you can claim my daughter's out smoking meth
while her baby cries for her mommy?
Look, we promised we'd find Blue and...
And we did.
How can you find her when you're looking in the wrong world?
I know this must be difficult to accept.
That she left her family,
-her child. -My mom ran away
from residential school when she was 15 years old.
And vowed that when she had kids,
she would do whatever it took to protect them.
And she did.
Never knew love or care herself.
But somehow, kept me safe and loved me my whole life.
But I couldn't keep Blue safe, could I?
No matter how much I loved her, because I couldn't change the fact
that every time she left the community, she was in danger.
So whatever your photographs and witnesses say, they're wrong.
Blue didn't run away. Somebody took her.
Somebody hurt her.
She's dead. I know it.
And now, nobody is even looking for her.
We trusted that you'd help us.
You just turned away.
Isabelle.
Missy won't let me take her home. It's minus-20 out.
She feels betrayed.
-We did what we could. -Did we?
Listen, there's a severe storm warning out here.
Don't drive back. Stay in the city.
Okay, good night.
-You knew Émilie's sister El, didn't you? -We went to the same college.
"Be calm." It's a code.
It's all your names, isn't it?
Bea, Kaye, El, Em.
You adapted a psalm, personalized it.
You must have been very close to have a secret name for all of you.
To build a life around it.
I guess we were.
You and Kaye and Em, you're still friends?
Don't leave the village, will you, Bea?
You kidding me?
Oh, man.
-Émilie? Check upstairs. -Sure.
Boss.
I think you already know the truth, Chief Inspector, so...
thank you for letting me go yesterday, letting me do this my way.
I killed CC.
I spilled the washer fluid.
I put the niacin in her coffee.
I attached the jumper cables.
That's the thing about being old.
No one can see you anymore.
You can do anything because you're invisible.
I'm sorry to take a life, but...
I had to save Crie from that monster.
That beautiful girl deserves to be happy.
Get SIJ and put this in evidence.
Where's Émilie?
Where is she?
You know what she did, don't you?
Bea, let me help her. Where is she?
The East road.
Outside the village, where her family died.
Sometimes she goes there when she wants to feel close to them.
Émilie!
Émilie!
Émilie.
Émilie!
Émilie.
Émilie.
Émilie.
It's all right.
It's all right.
You're gonna be all right. It's all right.
That was the hospital.
They think Émilie's gonna make it.
Imagine a love so great you would throw away your own life just for it.
Wouldn't you do it for your granddaughter?
-For Reine-Marie? -Oh, yes.
Sir, I'm really sorry about the stakeout.
I've been staying up late trying to crack the case.
We've all done it, Agent Nichol.
Just don't let it happen again.
Okay.
Anyone mind if I keep these?
You're kidding, right?
What? They're so soft.
The truth is in what we don't see.
You all right, sir?
You can't see the metal claws unless you turn them over.
Émilie couldn't have seen them, so she couldn't have known.
What are you saying?
It wasn't her.
I think the killer confessed to her. Told her almost everything.
Émilie knew about the niacin, about the washer fluid,
and the jumper cables, but not about the boots.
Only the killer knew about the boots.
"If I cannot inspire love, I will cause fear."
Émilie inspired love.
Her friends would have done anything for her.
-Even lie. -But, sir, she confessed.
Lots of innocent people confess.
I told you to listen. I was the one who was deaf.
Émilie said no one noticed her as she was invisible.
She wasn't the only one who was invisible.
Please.
-Please don't do this. -Monsieur Lyon, I have to come inside.
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon Virgin
Mother
And child
Holy infant
So tender and mild
I thought I understood you because we'd been through the same thing, but...
that wasn't it, was it?
We do have something in common.
We both buried our pain.
Somewhere deep where it couldn't find us.
But the body knows.
Pain always finds the surface...
one way...
or another.
They use those chairs to punish children.
Give them shocks.
Not enough to kill.
Just enough to hurt.
That's where you got the idea, wasn't it? You're smart.
I bet your dad taught you what the school didn't
about electrical circuits.
But your mom didn't need the chair to punish you.
Her disappointment was enough.
But you are loved, Crie.
By your dad,
and someone who'd give their life for you.
You mean my aunt?
She told me the day after my mom died that we're related.
But it was too late.
My mom always said, if you have a problem, fix it yourself.
No matter how hard.
So I fixed it.
I only did what she did.
And I wish you'll rot in Hell.
We were never here.
No child should...
ever see what you saw.
Will I go to prison?
I hope not.
Friggin' psycho.
She's a child, Agent Nichol.
Every child deserves to be saved. Compassion costs nothing.
The whole village was silent while CC mistreated her
and celebrated when she was dead.
She was the final repository
of all her mother's and grandmother's fears and fantasies.
Like Frankenstein's monster.
A patchwork of all their horrors.
Missy!
No! Missy!
---oOo---
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