All language subtitles for The Madame Blanc Mysteries S03E03 Jackal

Oh! Ah!

Sorry, sorry. Sorry, everyone.
Huge apologies.

Bit late, isn't it?
Yes, I know, I know, I know.

Hang on. Ah!

All right, in you go.
Thank you!

I should never have had that last
champagne cocktail last night.

You look wonderful, darling.

Maybe, but I don't feel wonderful.

Oh. What's wrong darling?

Did I actually just berate myself
for having an extra cocktail?

Yes, my love.

Something has to change, Jeremy.

I was not born to work.
Do you hear me?

# Do you remember the first time

# That my eyes set on you?

# Your smile came from nowhere

# For sometime never

# Or sometime soon

# The road is a long one

# I was only passing through

# I was only passing through. #

Let me know when I can switch it on.

Do not let go of that ladder till my
feet are firmly back on the ground.

C'est magnifique, no?
Yeah, lovely.

It's Austrian hand-cut crystal.

Great.
I paid only 1,000 euro for it.

How much?
It should sell for at least 2,000.

Do you want this stuck up or not?

Hiya.
Hey.

Are you all right up there?
What do you think?

He hates ladders.

I asked him to fix a roof tile
at my house once.

I thought he was gonna have
a nosebleed.

Your roof was a lot higher
than this ladder.

Oh, so I can let go of the ladder?
Don't you dare!

I'm sorry I'm late.

I was, erm, waiting in for this...

..Himalayan calendar
to be delivered.

You found one?
Oui, oui.

I cannot believe you sourced that.
Well done, love.

Ha! Merci beaucoup.

What's a Himalayan calendar, then?
A perpetual display calendar.

It means you can use it
year after year.

It's hand-carved,
and these little beads here,

well, they're made of real bone.

Ugh! Real bone. Who on earth
would want something like that?

Oh, it's a game her and Jeremy
have going on.

What?

He has fun discovering
an unusual object,

and then he challenges me to go
and source it for him.

More money than sense, really,
but it pays the rent.

Oh, something's ringing.
You be careful, love.

Coming down. Hold my hand.
Have you got my hand?

Here we go.

Can I switch it on now?
Yeah, go on.

Ah!

'Hello. The bubble
in the space time continuum

'has connected you
to the voicemail of Dominic Hayes.

'Please leave a message.'

Hello, Dom, it's me.

Give us a call when you get
this message, could you?

What's happened?
A poor woman has been shot.

Oh, my goodness, that's horrific.

I think I know a way we can help.
Of course. Anything.

This crowd isn't going
anywhere soon,

and they need to be fed.

Why don't we give away
one of my world famous crepes?

I think "world" is pushing it a bit,
darling.

I think that's a lovely idea,
Jeremy.

So when people spend
five euros or more in the pub,

they get a free crepe!

But then you would be making
a profit from a horrible crime,

wouldn't you?
No, not at all, Gloria.

People would be spending money
in the pub anyway,

and business needs a boost.

It's a win-win situation.

Oh, and I'm sure
all those hard working police

and forensic officers
will need feeding too.

Maybe leave the crepes

and concentrate on finding
a new manager

and running the actual bar.

Well, I think it's a wonderful idea.

Well done, darling.
Thank you, darling.

Come on, let's go and see
who that is in the car.

Here you go.

Oh, thanks for that.
Yeah.

Pleasure. Reminds me of my nan.

What? Well, Crystal Chandeliers
by Charlie Pride.

That was a favourite song.

That is one
of my favourite songs too.

I love country and western.
Yeah?

Oh, my nan was
a massive country fan.

She bought a camper van

and she travelled all the way across
the UK as a line dance teacher.

Fancy Nancy, they used to call her.
Hm!

So, do you know how
to line dance, then?

Yeah, of course.
Do you?

Yeah.
I never mentioned it before?

No. No, no, you haven't.
Oh.

That reminds me, I inherited all
her country and western records.

We should have a C and W evening.

Might even teach you
both a little chasse or two.

I would love that.
Yeah!

We'll make a night of it, yeah.

Play nothing but country
and western music.

I have some absolute magnifique
records upstairs. One moment.

Ooh, yeah! Great idea.

Hiya.

Oh. That's awful.

Yeah, of course.

A woman has been shot
in broad daylight

at the bus stop in the square.
What?!

Caron said she was holding one
of our bags

with an antique book inside,

and was she in the shop
this morning?

He's on his way round
to see if we remember her.

I need to talk to Charlie.

The eggs were freshly laid
this morning.

You've just told a lie.

How do you know?
What?

Exactly. Neither of us
knows for sure,

so we might as well pretend.
Right.

It's important to keep hope alive
in times like these.

What, by lying to everyone?
It's an egg, Gloria. Get a grip.

Yes, love.
Six crepes, please.

Right.

Come on, darling,
I promised everyone a crepe now!

Get on with it!

Six more crepes, please.

Uncle Patrick...

Hiya.

Yeah, that's definitely one of ours.

The woman's ID
says her name is Belinda Scott,

and she was holding it
when she got shot.

Can you recall your customers
this morning?

Charlie was here. I was in late.
What did she look like?

Reddish brown hair, young.
Ah, oui. I remember her.

I sold a first edition of, er,

Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
to her. This book?

Oui. Ha!
It was a very special pre-order.

I was nervous that
she wasn't going to turn up.

How much did she pay for it?

6,700 euros.
How much?!

How long do you have to know me

before you get your head round
this antique malarkey, eh?

Oh, come on.
Nearly seven grand for a book?

It's not just a book!

It's a Charles Dickens
first edition.

Oh.
Did she pay by card?

Er, no. She paid in cash.

Unusual?
A little.

But, er,
all of the notes were checked.

Has she been in here before?
Not that I know of, no.

Ah. They have tracked down
Belinda's address.

Jean, could I ask for your help?

First edition Dickens are not
my area of expertise.

Yes, yes, of course.
Erm, I've got to get off.

Uncle Patrick's turned up early.
Got to sort him out.

I'll see you later.
Yeah, great.

Let me know if I can
do anything else, huh?

I thank you for your help.
No problem.

Giving bereavement news is one
of the worst parts of my job.

I'm sure.

How did you know Miss Scott?

She is...

..was nanny to my little girl.

I lost my wife
to cancer three years ago.

It nearly killed me too,

but I had to stay on top
of things for my little girl.

She's nearly 11 now,
but it's been a struggle.

What time is it?

She gets dropped off from
soccer practice at any time.

What am I going to say to her?

Look, I know this is a very
difficult question,

but do you know of anyone
who would want to murder Belinda?

As far as I know,
she didn't know anyone here.

She was doing this nanny job
so she could save up

to start her MA course next year.

Save up?
Yes.

Pardon, but if she was saving up,

how did she afford an expensive
Charles Dickens first edition?

A what?

The book was in her possession
when she was...

At the, erm...
At the time of the incident.

But that is impossible.

There is no way that she would
have that kind of money spare.

This is so horrible.

That'll be her. You must leave
through the back door.

Oh, of course.

Thank you for your time.
Quickly, please.

Hello, you.

Hey, I've just been round yours,
but you weren't in.

Oh, sorry, I was putting up
a chandelier for Jean.

What you, up a ladder?
All right, don't start.

I remember you nearly passing out
at the top of a slide once.

Wouldn't have minded,
but you were 14 and six foot two.

I'll never forget the face
of that St John's Ambulance man

as he guided me down.

I'm sorry to land myself on you.
That's all right.

I thought you weren't coming
till next week.

I've not got your room ready.

I was supposed to be taking
our Sandra to the seaside,

but she had to work, so I thought
I'd cut my losses and come early.

You don't mind, do you?
Are you joking?

I'm thrilled to see you. Come here!
Ah!

Right? Hey, fancy a pint?
Thought you'd never ask.

Found one.

Oh, I thought
I'd got you this time.

You'll have to get up earlier
than that, my friend.

Oh, we only put up the dartboard
last week.

Found it in the cellar.
Regulars love it.

Hey!
Hello, Patrick!

You sit down,
I'll get the drinks in.

Red and a white,
if I'm not mistaken?

What a memory.
Thank you!

Look, we've made
so much money, darling.

Erm, unfortunately,
the cost of the ingredients

for the crepes
was a lot more than this, Judith.

Jeremy got more on the floor
than in the pan.

I don't think we broke even.
That's impossible.

I think you need to count it again,
Gloria.

Doesn't matter
how many times I count it, Judith.

Well, I don't think
it's all our fault.

Pardon?

I'm just saying, Gloria,

the way you overfill the drinks
could be costing us a fortune.

And I think you'll find

a load of wasted ingredients costs
a lot more.

If you say so.
I do say so.

Just put our names down
for the next game.

So, how did it go? Really?

The young woman that was killed
was nanny to a single father,

and he was devastated.

Yeah, he must have been.

The young daughter was at soccer,
and, erm, as we left,

he was about
to break the news to her.

Oh, it's horrific.
Mm.

Claudia used to love soccer.
Oh, Dom.

What's all the excitement?

He only needs double 17 to win.

That's what Eric Bristow used
to finish on.

Hey, even I've heard of him.

Ooh! So close.

You gotta have
a very steady hand in this game.

A few millimetres to the left,

it would have been
a completely different story.

What did you just say?

What, the thing about steady hand?
No.

A few millimetres to the left

and it would have been
a completely different story.

Just a minute.

'Caron.'
Hi, it's me.

'Hello, Jean.'

Caron, could you text me
the name and address

of the lady that was stood
next to Belinda at the bus stop.

'Why?'

Erm, I've got a lead on the book.

'Antiques only, Jean.'
Of course.

Thank you.

'Bye.'

What's going on?

What if that bullet
was not meant for Belinda?

Like that dart was not meant
for that double two.

I don't understand?

What if the shooter
got the wrong woman?

Can I have a lift?

I've just put our names down
and Patrick's getting us a drink.

Please. I've got to leave now.

Yeah, No problem. Come on.

Hey, Uncle Patrick.
We'll be about half an hour.

No worries, Dom.
I'm quite enjoying the show.

I bet you say "scown" instead
of "scon".

It is "scown".
Absolute twaddle.

Who says twaddle?
Ladies, please.

Jeremy, we can't go on like this.
Hello?

Oh. Oh! Hello, Patrick.
How nice to see you.

Have you been waiting long?

Not one to pry, but what happened
to that lovely landlady?

She left. More's the pity.

Oh, shame.
You look like you need a hand.

That, my dear chap,
is an understatement.

Oh, I ran bars and pubs for years.

I could give you a hand if you like.
Ooh!

Well, we can offer you
a very attractive package

with the flat above included,
of course.

I said help. I'm only planning to be
here for a week or so. Yes, come on.

Well, that's a turn up
for the books.

So what's your theory again?

Well, what if the shooter
got the wrong woman?

But if you're planning
on shooting someone,

wouldn't you make sure
you got the right person?

Yeah, but if the other woman
at the bus stop

looks remotely like Belinda,
then we might be onto something.

I bet you were a nightmare
to play games with as a kid.

What do you mean?

Just always figuring it out
before everyone else.

It's just the way my head works.

Yeah, well, I'd have had you
on my team any time.

Would you? Yeah, well,
maybe not the darts team.

Shut it. Right. Ready?

Yeah.
OK.

Hello?

Fayette Moreau?

Erm, we've come about the incident
this morning.

Are you police?
No, no.

But we did know the lady
who was killed.

You'd better come in.
Thank you.

How are you doing?
I'm absolutely fine.

It must have been
such a harrowing ordeal.

I didn't know her.

No, but having someone shot
right next to you

must have been a shock.

Yes, it was.

Look, I don't know anything.
There's not much more I can say.

Gosh. That's, erm...
That's quite the collection.

You love your classical literature.

Do you mind if I...?
No, don't.

It's OK.
I won't damage your first editions.

I think you should go now.

Do you want to tell us
what's really going on?

I don't know what to do.

Someone's after me
and I have no idea who it is.

What do you mean? After you.

Did you find the book?
The Dickens? Yes.

It's to go with the rest
of you first editions?

I'm a book dealer.

Do you want to tell us
what's happened?

I was at the bus stop.

I dropped the bag.

The woman picked it up for me...

..and then she was shot.

So why don't you take the bag back?
I was in shock.

And it would have looked like
I was stealing from a dead woman.

Also...

I knew that the bullet
was meant for me.

What do you mean?

Nothing physical
has actually happened before this.

But I've been receiving these.

"To the dead we owe only the truth.

"You could leave life right now.

"Let that determine what you do
and say and think."

"One should die proudly

"when it is no longer possible
to live proudly."

Voltaire, Aurelius, Nietzsche.

Very philosophical.

Have you any idea who they're from?
Not a clue.

A disgruntled ex?
I don't think so.

My ex is back home in Germany
and he recently got married.

Anyone from work.

The world of book dealing
is a competitive one,

but I'm shocked that anyone
would go this far.

The police are going to have to hear
what you've just told us.

Of course.
Do you mind if I take these to them?

I'd be glad to get them
out of the house.

Thank you. And, erm...

..thank you for your help, Fayette.

How do you do that?
What?

Read a philosophical quote

and know exactly
who it was written by

without Googling anything.

Well, it's just my job
to know stuff, isn't it?

Jean White,
the walking search engine.

Well, I'll tell you something else.

These letters are written
on goatskin parchment paper.

You what?
Goatskin or sheep.

It's hard to differentiate without
a light microscope.

Like, animal skin? How can you tell?
Look.

See, if you look closely,

you can see
the hair follicle pattern.

Oh, no. No, you're all right, mate.

No, no, no, that is disgusting.
I love goats, me.

Claudia us to feed one at the end
of our lane for years. Really?

Yeah.
Vincent van Goat, we called him.

Nah, that's all a bit, erm,
Hannibal Lecter for me, that.

Something else about
these letters rings a bell.

It's probably the one that used
to go around the goat's neck.

Will you drop me off
at the police station?

I need to speak to Caron.
No problem.

Right, I'll see you in a bit.
Yeah.

Thank you.
Pleasure.

Jean?

Actual goatskin?

Actual goat skin?
Yeah.

Fayette Moreau says
she's happy to speak to you.

These are very cryptic, no?

Philosophical quotes with
the common denominator of death.

Well, I'd say that message
is pretty clear.

Er, Caron...

..can I look at that
Dickens book again?

I knew I'd seen
that note paper before.

'Ah! Hi, Jean.'

Charlie.
'Ah, oui?'

The book supplier that
you sourced the Dickens from.

How well do you know him?

Oh, I've used him a few times
over the years

when requests for books come in.

How far is Sanguinet?

About an hour's drive from here.
Not far.

'He knows his stuff, huh?

'He's very creepy,
but very reasonable.'

Mm, thank you.

We need to go to this address.

Erm, Bernard Folle?
I am closed.

Oh, this is about a book
that I bought from you.

Strictly no refunds.
This is not about a refund.

It's about some poison pen letters
that you wrote on goatskin paper.

I like your style.

Ah-ah!

I think you'd better come
to the station.

This way.

Both written
on goatskin parchment paper

and both written
in the same handwriting.

Bit of a coincidence,
don't you think?

And, er,
quotes by famous philosophers?

Seems quite apt
from a well-read man like yourself.

Although I would have said

Machiavelli would
be more appropriate.

Pardon?
Niccolo Machiavelli?

He was a 16th-century philosopher,

and key themes of his were,
erm, deception, distrust.

And manipulation.

You are very well read, madame.

But really, I'm not that bad.

So you are denying
these letters were sent by you?

I have been the only
rare book business

in this region of France
for 30 years.

The exhilaration of the hunt
for a rarity

is my only addiction.

It is my life.

Mm.

My partner Charlie says
you're the first port of call

when she's sourcing a rare book.

I do have some very loyal customers.

But they are dwindling away.
Why?

Technology came along
in the shape of Fayette Moreau.

How do you know Fayette Moreau?

I first heard of her when my...

some of my regular customers
stopped coming to the shop.

I made a few inquiries and found
that she had set up business

a stone's throw away
in Sainte Victoire.

Wow. That must have been
quite a shock for you.

I couldn't compete with a new,
modern way of sourcing books.

Her prices,
she was taking away my business.

I had to do something.

I only wanted to frighten her
away from here.

I wanted her gone.

Where were you at midday today,
Monsieur Folle?

I was in the shop doing my accounts.
Can anyone verify this?

No, I don't open my shop
on a Saturday.

You shot the wrong girl, didn't you?

Shot?!

What are you talking about?

Well, of course I didn't.
I didn't shoot anyone!

At mid-day today,

a woman was shot
in Sainte Victoire Square.

She happened to be holding someone
else's bag with a rare book inside.

With this note in the back.

And she was stood right next
to Fayette Moreau.

I swear, I haven't shot anyone!

The facts we have so far
tell us something different.

You will be held for questioning.

No, no, no, no. Wait.

I swear I only sent her
the letters to frighten her!

Well, you certainly did that.

I have to go and get ready
for a police event this evening.

Take Monsieur Folle
to one of the cells, please.

We will question him again
in the morning.

If nothing changes,

I think we have strong enough
evidence to charge him. Right.

HR will be in charge
if you need anything. OK.

Thank you for your help, Jean.
Pleasure, as always.

Mm!

It's a bit calmer in here.

It's the new manager.
He's magnificent.

Wow.
Who is this genius of hostelry?

Hello, Jean.
Is that chandelier still up?

Patrick,
are you running the place now?

Just for a few weeks.
That is a good kitchen, by the way.

Plenty of work surfaces.

Isn't he wonderful?

Monkfish.
Oh.

Great choice.
Ooh, that looks lovely. Thank you.

You're studying hard.
Oh, just signed up for a course.

Mobility's going electric.
Got to keep up.

Which version?
Sorry?

Of that song.
Oh, Sunshine Of Your Love?

Er, I love the original, of course,
but my favourite,

even though Ella Fitzgerald
did an ace cover, has to be...

Spanky Wilson.
Oh, amazing!

No-one ever knows that version.
One of my faves.

I mean, there are some songs
that should never be covered.

Ginger Baker's drumming
on the original was genius.

The downbeat is the beat.
Exactly!

But I think even Mr Baker,
who I saw many times, by the way,

would agree that the cymbal bell
being played

as quarter and eight notes
in the intro

gives Miss Wilson's version
a certain je ne sais quoi.

Yeah, it does.

Do you want any sauces?
No, thanks.

Hey, do you remember that pub you
used to manage when I was about 13?

I do, the Snooty Fox.
That's the one.

And you caught me
nicking the martini.

I found you staggering around
in the cellar

when I went down to change a barrel
at our Sandra's engagement party.

I've always been a lightweight.

Put you to sleep for a couple
of hours on a pile of bar towels.

Your mother would have killed you.

I don't know how
we got away with it.

And every time I saw that blooming
martini commercial after that,

I wanted to throw up.

You arrived just in the nick
of time, Patrick.

- You're clearly a natural.
- Absolutely.

Between us, Gloria was making
a real mess of things.

Er, now, now, darling,
I think it was a team effort.

We all chipped in,
didn't we, Judith?

Especially Gloria.
Yes. Yes, of course you all did.

And we are forever grateful.
Absolutely.

So, how many pubs have
you had, then, Patrick?

Well, I found it hard to get work
when I came back after my time away.

But my mate had bought a nightclub
and he hadn't got anyone to run it,

and so we moved into the flat
and I managed it 24-seven.

Great days.

Me and our Sandra used to run
downstairs every morning

before the cleaners turned up,

pick up all the loose change
that had dropped on the dance floor,

and then we'd pour ourselves
a massive glass of lemonade.

Glad it wasn't martini.

And after that,
I became a bar manager,

and I went wherever
the brewery sent me. So...

..I feel really at home here.

I'm sorry, I don't speak French.

Neither do I.
What can I get you, mate?

Could I have a large brandy, please?

Oh.

You look like you need
to sit down. Thank you.

Erm, Patrick, would you...
would you bring it over?

Of course.

Oh, just through here.

Thank you.

Sorry. I didn't mean
to take you away from your friends.

Oh, not at all.

I'm Keith. Keith Scott.
Oh, I'm Jean, and this is Dom.

My daughter was shot this morning.

I'm so sorry.

I saw the police tape.

That must have been
where it happened.

It was.
Did you know her?

Did you know my Belinda?

I'm so sorry, I didn't.

She said she didn't know
very many people,

but with her job and her studies

she seemed to be having
such a great time.

Then a couple of days ago,
she left this message.

Oh.

Thank you.
No problem.

'Daddy,
I'm in danger here. Please come.

'It's getting worse.
I think he's going to...'

I tried to call her back
as soon as I could, but...

But her phone kept going
to voicemail.

Could you play that again?
Of course.

'Daddy, I'm in danger here.
Please come.'

'It's getting worse.
'I think he's going to...'

Look...

You stay right here, Keith.
We will be back.

Oh, right.
We're gonna help.

On the house, mate.
Thank you.

Caron's still not
answering his phone.

Oh, hang on. Wasn't he going
to that police event tonight?

Oh, yeah.
Oh, I'll leave a message.

Hiya. It's me.

Belinda's dad showed up,
and she left him a message

and she sounded terrified
about something.

So I've got a hunch,

and me and Dom are going
to go back to Otis' house

to just see what's going on.

Oh, and have a lovely night.
Who's Otis?

Otis is, er, was Belinda's boss

and the father of that young girl
I told you about.

Yeah.
And why are we going back there?

Something rang a bell.

I'll explain on the way.

Thank you for seeing us again.
No problem.

Erm, do you mind if we sit down?
No. No, of course not.

So, did she win?
Sorry?

Your daughter. At soccer.
Oh, that was just practice.

She's showing a lot of promise,
though.

You must be very proud.
I am.

of course.

Erm, can I ask,
how well did you know Miss Scott?

Not very well.

She came on recommendation
from a work colleague.

Would you like some coffee?

Oh, yes, please.
Please.

You leave your daughter with someone
you don't know very well?

I don't think so.
But you think he did it?

His doorbell.

It makes exactly the same
tubular bell sound

that was on the voicemail
that Belinda left for her father.

Tubular Bells,
the classic album by Mike Oldfield.

He's clearly a musician,
because he's got a keyboard case.

I don't think that's
a keyboard case, love.

Eh?

Ah. Thank you.

Thank you.

So, do you and your daughter
do a lot of sports?

Mostly soccer.

But she's just like her old dad.
She loves her sport.

What about shooting?

Shooting?

Sorry. It's just I couldn't help but
notice that sticker on your fridge.

ADAF, Association de Arms a Feu.

Or as I would say,
Firearms Association.

You want to talk about this?

'Hiya, it's me.

'Belinda's dad showed up,
and she left him a message,

'and she sounded terrified
about something.

'So I've got a hunch,

'and me and Dom are gonna go
back to Otis's house

'just to see what's going on.
Oh, have a lovely night!'

Have either of you
ever been in love?

I don't mean the weak, watery love.

I mean love so intense...

that every breath feels
like you're drowning

in a sea of perpetual heartache.

I had never met anyone like Belinda.

I wanted us to be a family.

Did you, erm...

Did you tell her
how you were feeling?

Of course I did!

But she rejected me.

I knew she felt something for me.
I could tell that she did.

She said she was very flattered...

..but that I was old enough
to be her father.

I felt so stupid.

But I know she was lying.

I know she felt the same.

She said she loved my little girl

and that that's why she would stay,
but...

I knew different.

She was staying because of me.

Erm... so if you were
love's young dream...

..why did you shoot her?

That night...

..I was printing something out
for work...

and accidentally pressed reprint.

I couldn't believe
what I was looking at.

Printing in front of me was a letter
she had written to my work...

saying I had made advances on her

and they should consider
who they employed.

She said she would go to
the police and social services

as soon as possible to question
my fitness as a parent.

Erm... It must have been
quite shocking

to see those words
written down on paper.

How could she have thought that?

I loved her like
I have never loved anyone before.

I panicked.

I would have lost my job
and potentially my daughter.

How could she lead me on
and do that to me?

How dare she do that to me!

So I had to do something.

She always caught the bus...
in the square.

'I climbed up
on the roof of La Couronne...'

'..and waited.'

'She would have been dead...'

'..before she hit the ground.'

'There is easy access
to the fields at the back.'

It was easy to get away.

I think there's more to this
than you care to admit.

You convinced yourself
that she was in love with you...

and then you saw her rejection
in black and white.

I think your advances...

had gone on
a lot longer than you say...

What did you say?

..and that girl was petrified!

You made her choose
between you and your little girl,

and THAT'S why she was going
to tell them everything!

You are talking rubbish!
I heard her on a voicemail.

She was terrified!

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Papa.

Darling, don't worry.

What kind of a father are you?!
Dom! Don't...

Sorry, I don't know what
came over me then, just saw red...

in front of his daughter an' all.

What was I thinking?
You weren't thinking.

Made your blood boil. You're human.
Now, stop punishing yourself.

Look, we need to go in there,
tell Keith what's going on

and find him somewhere to stay.

Poor man.

OK, well, I'll call the Hotel Bian,
see if they've got a room.

If not, I'll, erm...

Hey, what's wrong?

I just...

I just can't get over what Keith
must be going through, you know?

Losing his daughter like that.

It could have been me, Jean.
Oh, love.

Some random police officer
on the other side of the world

telling me
that Claudie's been killed.

I don't think...
Come here.

Oh.

OK.

Do you want me to go in there
and look after him?

No. No, he's...

he's on his own in a strange place.

I'll help. Just give me a minute?

Course.

Hello, darling.

Oh, sorry, I-I forgot all about
the time difference.

Yeah. I...

No, no. No, not drunk, no.

Eh... Just ringing to tell you...

you know, I miss you and, erm...
good night, r-really.

Yeah, oh, and to lock
all your windows a-and your doors.

Yeah.

All right, then.

I love you, Claudie. Na-night.