All language subtitles for Marianne S02E06

There were dealers
in Léna Novak's building.

That's not surprising.
He was on a narcotics case,

you were on vice.

Cases don't always intersect.

The same address? At the same time?

Marianne! I'm here!

She screams...

-It's Mom!
-Your mom is here?

Oh yes, with all her fanfare.

So, how are you and Selma getting on?

Officially, she's still
with her boyfriend,

but I think things are progressing.

He told me about his mother.
Boy, did he have a rough time.

Oh, by the way, Ronnie,

you asked me if I had any news

on the Novak case, and I do.

You see,

they're renovating the building,

and they found drugs
in the partitions.

What did you do?

A trap.

Oh, that's his car!

He'll have to explain this.

-You're up already?
-Yes.

Is he the one
who killed the boy's mother?

Well, no. I'm not there yet, no.

He's been hiding things from me
for ten years.

I wouldn't be surprised.
He's got the face of a gangster.

He's a commissioner.

Hey, I was right. A state gangster.

-Mom.
-I don't like cops.

Let me remind you that you
were married to an army man.

Oh, but it's not the same.

And I'm divorced.

Well, I'm off.

-Take care of yourself.
-Yeah.

CASH IS COOL

Mrs. Vauban?

They're waiting for you by the pool.

Before removing the body.

I've got one of them.

So many birdies!

Man, I'm hot!

Ah yes, that's a practical car
for a young driver.

Come with me.

-Is Pastor here?
-Right here.

Oh, boy! Oh.

Oh, I should have brought
my swimsuit. I knew it.

Not bad.

Sebastien Egermann, safety manager.

And former divisional commissioner

for the private security.

This lady doesn't look like

she need security.

Brigitta Wagner, age 47,

housekeeper for the Marrand family.

-How long?
-Seventeen years.

Mrs. Marrand and her children
spend vacations here every summer.

Last night, Paul, the eldest son,

organized a garden party
for his 19th birthday.

Ah! I saw him passing by.

The young driver, right?

The party ended
around four in the morning.

I guess she wasn't on the guest list.

Or maybe it was a theme night.

"Household staff" theme.

She oversaw the event.

After the guests left,

she took care
of the restoration of the premises.

At four a.m.?

Everything had to be in order

for Ms. Marrand's return
this morning.

And where was the little lady?

She stayed on the yacht,
leaving the house to the children.

Well, that's nice.

I'll have to think about that

when Zacharie has sleepovers.

A little yacht,

a seaside pied-à-terre,
it's practical.

-So, Brigitte...
-Brigitta.

-Bri...
-Brigitta.

Brigitta. Brigitta.

Did she tidy up herself?

With the help of chambermaids

who she sent home just before five.

One of my men found her in the pool

while on his rounds,
about an hour later.

OK. And the big boo-boo here is...

So, there are traces of blood here,
at the height of a man.

There was probably a struggle

and the victim,
her head hit the sculpture

and the assailant
pushed her into the pool

while she was unconscious.

He must have run into her

as he left the house
with his pockets full.

Possible.

Watches, bracelets, necklaces,
earrings, all gone.

Fortunately,
the best pieces were in the safe.

Video surveillance cameras,
three-meter-high walls,

private security agents,

and he just walks right in.

Don't tell me you're going to have

to go back to civil service?

I assume your men checked
the identity of the guests?

At the entrance to the property,
of course.

And at the exit?

One or more guests
stayed after the party,

went upstairs, stole the jewelry,

and stumbled upon the victim
on the way out.

In theory, OK,
but they were Paul's friends,

most of them close friends.

And?

Not exactly young people
with the financial problems

that might lead to this behavior.

Oh, yeah.

The 2008 crash didn't hit them hard.

Blondie had been with us
for so many years,

I don't know how we'll make it.

-Blondie?
-Yes.

When we recruited Brigitta,

Berenice was two years old.

That's what she called her,
so we kept the nickname.

Oh, have I introduced you
to my daughter?

You already did, Mom.

Excuse me. It's my husband.
This won't take long.

Something to drink?

No, thank you, no. It's...

I'd like a cup of coffee, please.

If you've got
a little piece of croissant left,

-I'd love it.
-Yes.

Angelique?
Coffee and pastries, please.

Yes, ma'am.

I won't be long.

Yes. I'm with them right now.

Were you at your brother's party?

No way.

You don't like to dance?

The purpose of that kind of evening
isn't dancing.

It's to prepare
mergers and acquisitions.

Mergers and acquisitions,
like business deals?

Marriages between heirs
to France's top 100 fortunes.

Since my parents
are at the top of the list,

I could be ugly and dumb,
I'd still be the belle of the ball.

So I prefer to stay in my room.

And why didn't you join
your mother on the boat?

It's not a boat, it's a yacht.

No, I don't think Mom
would have liked that.

It's the only place

where she can spend the night
with her lover, so...

No, don't worry.

Dad is doing the same on his jet.

Ah yes, balance is important

for a couple.

Your piano teacher's here,
honey. You're going to be late.

You told us that

you didn't know what you were going
to do without the victim.

What exactly were her duties?

Ah well, Blondie
was in charge of management,

including work
on our various properties,

plane tickets, receptions,

household staff, of course.

I asked for a croissant,
not the bakery.

And there were no issues?

No. I trusted her completely,

and she did a remarkable job.

She was totally autonomous

and... nice, you know,

always a smile.

No, because it's not easy

to find good household staff.

Ah, well, wait. Excuse me.

My phone's ringing too.

Yes, Mr. Prosecutor? I'm sorry, sir.

I think I'll have another croissant.

Please do.

Miss?

How long have you worked
for the Marrand family?

It's been just over a month.

I was recommended by my cousin,

who works for a friend of the madam.

Funny,
you didn't seem to agree earlier

when Mrs. Marrand

said that Brigitta
was always smiling.

It's just between us.

It's just that Brigitta,

she was only nice with the boss.

The first few days, I went home

crying because of her.

And was she like that
with all the staff

or just with newbies?

With everyone.

And nobody protested?

The chef tried three days ago

because Brigitta dug in to him
over his menu.

As a result, he was fired.

Doesn't make you want to speak up.

Yeah. Right.

So, what's for lunch, Chef?

Duck breast, caramelized sauce,
with a mango jus.

Oh my. Oh, that sounds good.

Oh, if we had been invited...

-Ah yes.
-Unfortunately,

we have to investigate the murder
of Brigitta Wagner.

Brigitta is dead?

Yes. It's often the case
with murder victims, yes.

When did you last see her?

Last night, in the kitchen,
just before I left, around midnight.

And what did you do after midnight?

Well, I went straight home,
to the apartment

that the Marrands rent for me
when they come down South.

Alone?

With my wife and our son.

Oh, you have rutabagas?

It doesn't fascinate you,

the return of the old vegetables,

that our great-grandparents ate

in cellars during the war?

Rutabaga, parsnip,
Jerusalem artichoke.

Besides, the richer we are,

the more we eat
poor people's vegetables.

I'd been working with her
for over five years.

She had her faults, but...

basically, we got along fine.

But she wanted you fired.

You didn't mind?

Is this about Wednesday's dinner?

Every day,
Blondie left me instructions

for the following day's meals.

And when she was off work,
like last Tuesday,

she left them

in an envelope with my name on it.

The note she left me said,

"Three dinner guests,
eight p.m. service, big eaters"

and "preferably game."

So, I spent the afternoon

preparing and cooking
a hare à la royale...

"À la royale". That's truffle?

No, no. It's foie gras.

Ah, yes. Yes, foie gras.
Oh, wow. That's good.

Well, except that the guests
were vegetarians.

Blondie came by just before lunch

and she went mad,

said I hadn't read the instructions.

And she said she'd have you fired?

Yes, but...

I managed to prepare
a vegetarian dinner in a hurry,

and then I showed her the note
that was in the envelope.

She apologized, of course.

She wrote this.

"Sorry about yesterday.
I know you're not responsible.

"Thanks for keeping
this to yourself."

Oh, so when she wasn't working,

she had no life.

-Can I?
-We unlocked it.

So...

GARDEN INTERVIEW

Well, she photographed everything.

Before and after staff visits.

PHOTOS

"Take advantage of Ms. Marrand's
absence, 3-4:30 p.m.,

"to mow the lawn and run the blower,

"prune the rosebushes in bed
number eight, clean the cycads."

It's precise.

Here, have a look at "meals".

There must be a memo
about the famous dinner.

MEALS

LUNCH, DINNER

"Three guests, Ms. Marrand,
nine p.m. service. Vegetarians.

"No meat or by-products,
fish possible."

Printed on Tuesday at eight p.m.

These are the instructions
she put in the envelope.

It means that someone else replaced
the memo with another one

asking the chef to cook meat.

So, the goal,
it wasn't to get the cook fired,

it was to get Brigitta fired.

Hello, Yves.

Good morning, Your Honor.

Ronnie, what brings you here?

Can you ask your clerk to leave?

Gladly.

Yves, if you have a break to take,
now's the time.

Five minutes will suffice.

Very good.

The other night,
I hope you caught me on my left side.

It's the best.

The important thing is that it's you.

It's not art, Ronnie.

What do you know?

I know that Léna Novak's pimp
was also a dealer

and that the team of cops
on his back was yours.

He was our snitch.

We turned a blind eye
to his pimping activities

and he informed us
about a dealer he was working for.

A man named Cattoni,
who was on the rise at the time.

He was so scared,

he refused to talk to us,

so he went through
one of his prostitutes.

Léna Novak.

What he had to say to us,
he said to her.

I would pretend to be a customer

and she would talk to me.

Sometimes I'd stay five minutes,

sometimes 45,

depending on what she had to tell me.

But?

But Cattoni
must have suspected something.

Was it his henchman
who eliminated her in retaliation?

And the informer?

Same punishment ten days later.

And why didn't you tell me
about this?

We had no evidence against him.

Accusing Cattoni of murdering a pimp

and one of his girls
would've been useless

and would have
discouraged cooperation,

and we really needed it.

But you know that

I've been working
on this case for ten years,

and Zacharie, he needs to know
how his mother died.

You know the kid, you've seen him.

You could have told me.
That would've helped.

And what truth
would you like to teach him?

That his mother,
in addition to being a prostitute,

was linked to drug trafficking?

And on top of that, she was a snitch?

Believe me, the truth is far worse
than what he already knows.

The kid was there

every time I went
to talk to his mother.

He was always on her lap.

He kind of got used to me.

I didn't know how to protect her.

The failure was mine.

Are you OK?

Great.

The truth is sometimes disappointing.
Often, in fact.

Yeah, but no.

A nameless, faceless henchman,

probably dead
for I don't know how long

to settle some score or other.

That may be true,

but I don't have an answer
for Zacharie yet.

If it's that simple, why did Franco

rush to see the building
the other night?

He's known Zacharie
since he was a baby.

And he's always asking questions,

as if looking for something.

You're going to reopen
the investigation?

I don't know.
I don't know what I want.

I don't want to go golfing.
I hate golf.

I don't like green.
It's full of pesticides.

We searched every computer
in the house,

and the bogus memo
for the vegetarian meal

came from Paul, the son.

Yes. My favorite.

Are you fucking stupid?

No.

No, I'm an examining magistrate

and I'm investigating the murder
of your housekeeper.

Ah yes, you're the little blue car

that looks like a turtle?

That's right. Yes, it's a 2CV,

and I'll meet you
at a red light any time.

Why did you change the menu

Brigitta left
in the kitchen envelope?

You should've deleted the file
from your computer.

I wanted her out,

for my mother to think she did
something stupid and fire her.

Why so much hatred, my good fellow?

Life smiles on you, it seems.

She had been talking to my mother.

She saw my buddy

smoking a joint at a poker party,

and she told her right away.

Now, he won't even

set foot in the house again.

And who's this friend?

Enzo, a local DJ.

Enzo what?

Ruggieri.

And was he at your party
the night of the murder?

Well, no, that's just it.

I put him on the guest list,
but he didn't show up.

Brigitta would do anything
to make my mother look good.

And what were you doing at five a.m.?

You... You suspect me?

That's funny. You hear that, Brice?

I spent the night with a girl.

And since we didn't get much sleep,

that must be a good alibi, right?

And I suppose this girl has a name?

Honestly, I don't know. It was
my best friend who brought her.

It was his birthday present to me.

He knows I like redheads.

Well, that's an original gift.

And there's no packaging,

and that's eco-responsible.
That's good.

And your mother
doesn't mind prostitutes?

No, my mother doesn't care

if I sleep with a girl
who likes money.

What scares her is if I fall for one
who doesn't have any.

Ah yes, parents always worry
about their children.

That's normal.

Here.

Ah, yes, that did
sound familiar, Enzo Ruggieri.

"Drug trafficking, theft,

"credit card fraud."

Ah yes, well,
Ms. Marrand was right to worry.

Enzo Ruggieri takes a look around
at the poker party,

and the evening of the party,
he's on the guest list,

so he comes late to steal the jewels

and runs into Brigitta.

Yes.

Excuse me.

Yes, hello?

Yes, yes, I'm with Marianne now.

Ah, the same one?

Oh well,
we'll come and see you, then?

Well, never mind.
Well, we'll be in touch?

OK, I'll call... I mean, you...

Yes, that's right, yes. Kiss.

Yes. Kiss, kiss, kiss.

It was Selma.

Yeah, well, I got that, yes.

One happy coroner.

So, the blood on the statue
did belong to the victim

and not the attacker.

As a result, she fell

into the pool and drowned.

Well, we're not going over
because Selma's swamped with work.

OK. So, that's it?

Did she choose you?

Has she replaced the other suitor?

Oh no, not yet.

Ah well, listen to me.

It's a good start.
And you seem confident.

That's the main thing.

I looked confident once, back in '93.

I was in fourth grade.

I invited a girl
from third grade to the movies.

It was a fiasco, and she went out
with a guy from fifth grade

who had been held back three times.

Oh yeah. No small wounds.

Yes. Schindler's List.
That's what I took her to see.

Ah yes,
you like handicaps, don't you?

Mr. Ruggieri?

It's not for the firemen's calendar!

Mr. Ruggieri?

Yeah, OK!

Hello. Marianne Vauban,
examining magistrate.

Can I come in?

-What for?
-To talk to your son.

Enzo isn't here.
He's in town on business.

So, he's a DJ in a day club?

He does other things
to earn a bit of money.

Right.

Well, it's a nice car.

A friend lent it to him.
His broke down.

So he went into town on foot?

Look, I'm telling you
he's not at home.

Leave me the fuck alone, oh!

Ah yes, indeed.
He's behind the house.

Thank you.

Let me go. You're hurting me!

So, Enzo, quite a splint

you've got there.

How did you do it?

Fighting with Ms. Marrand's
housekeeper before

pushing her in the pool?

What? No, no, wait, wait, wait.

I never saw the Marrands again.

I swear I never went back!

You were on the guest list.

Yes, I was, but I didn't go back,
I swear.

I didn't go back,

and I haven't seen Paul.

I learned my lesson.

Were you threatened?

Threatened, yeah.
With a double forearm fracture.

And who did this to you?

They were wearing hoods.

But they told me if I ever saw Paul,

they'd really take care of me.

You can call 911
if you don't believe me.

They X-rayed my skull.

Ah, good, you've already changed
the water in the pool.

Do you often have your henchmen

beat up friends of your son

that you don't like?

Pastor, sit down.
You don't look well.

Double forearm fracture,

skull wound, all for a joint.

A joint?

You don't have to be a genius
to know he wanted to sell it to Paul

and his friends at the party.

Or maybe it was just for Paul.

I understand he got some very,
very nice gifts, didn't he?

Ah, Bérénice! Hello!

How are you? Just waking up?

Who took this photo?

Blondie, while they played poker.

It's funny because when

you told me
about the work the victim did,

you forgot to mention

that spying on your children
was one of her duties.

Does it shock you?

You can't imagine

the danger the children
of families like ours face.

Thugs,

unscrupulous friends,
drawn by the smell of money,

drug dealers like Enzo,
the enlightened ones.

So, yes,
I consider it my duty as a mother

to monitor their companions.

Do you have children, Mrs. Vauban?

No.

Well, you could say, yes. Sort of.

Then you must understand me.

We'll turn our attention to the law.

Thank you, Mr. Colinet.

You're free to go.

Thank you, Your Honor.

My client is very invested
in his art.

Ah, yes. I can see that, yes.

Next time, however,
choose a reserved parking space

because this almost came

to a pugilistic end.

That's right. Yes, yes, fear.

This is very annoying. Please.

Mr. Colinet, shall we go?

Your Honor.

Oh, he's pulling out all the stops.

Mr. Colinet, please.

Take him away.

Yes. Mr. Colinet.

Yeah, me too. Come on.
Please, take him away.

Now. I think it's better.

And the door, please.

Goodbye.

Ah, I can't take it.
I can't take it, I swear.

Yves, if I get one more
kleptomaniac clown or whatever,

a mime who makes
a racket at night, I quit.

Well, I've still got half an hour
before the next one.

I'm going to work
on my little Cattoni file.

Here we are.

Yves?

What's going on? Is it your mom?

She's gone.

Oh my. Oh my God!
But what... She was...

What happened?

No, she's gone.

My God, that's terrible!

Oh no, she went to the home.

-Ah.
-Yes.

Oh boy, you scared me.

Oh, well, it's nothing. Yes, it is.

For you, it's probably very...

Do you want to take
the afternoon off, Yves?

Or tomorrow?

Oh no, absolutely not.

It's bad enough when I go home,

I don't know what to do, but...

a whole day, it's a nightmare.

No, give me more work instead.

Are you sure?

Yes, I need to keep my mind occupied.

Well, if you like,
there's the second Cattoni tome.

There's plenty for both of us.

Ah well, perfect. I'll do it.

Go ahead.

So, if you find anything,

you can call me any time.

Yes, yes, yes. Yes, yes, yes.

You can't stay like this, Yves.

It's no good.

No, I promise. I promise, Your Honor.

And...

Well, then, I'll take Volume 3 too.

NURSERY

You want to give Selma a tree
with your initials on it?

It's very romantic.

A bit cheesy perhaps, but...

Oh my. What's wrong?
Did I say something wrong?

No, no, I'm fine.

It's just that it's over.
Selma chose.

Oh no, but don't worry, she chose me.

Really? Well, that's good.

It's... Congratulations!

Thank you.

I wonder how he's going to cope,
poor guy.

I beg your pardon?

Well, her boyfriend.
Well, her old boyfriend now.

It must be hard for him.

It reminds me
of when my wife left me.

It's not easy to get back on track.

He did nothing wrong, poor guy.

He hadn't done anything wrong.

I'm the one who screwed it all up.

Wait, Pastor. I don't understand.

Selma. Selma...

You don't want her
to share custody with the gentleman?

You want to be the only one?

-Well, yes.
-Yes.

Then you've got
to stop being so empathetic.

It's crazy. It's over.

When a boxer is in the ring

and he has just won,

he raises his arms and shouts,

"Yeah, I won! Victory is mine!"

He doesn't go, "Sorry.

"Oh no, his nose is bleeding."

-No, he doesn't do that.
-No.

Enough. You're the champion.

You're the champion of love,
Pastor. It's a triumph!

No, you're right.

I'll invite him out for a drink
and tell him I understand.

-No! No.
-And then, I'm done!

No! No, Pastor,
you won't do anything.

Nothing at all. Nothing.

Stop it, little man.

He will recover,

and you have to stop blaming yourself

and you can
sink your teeth into Selma.

Understand?

Understood.

OK. And you're happy?

I'm delighted.

-Sure?
-Sure.

OK.

What the hell are we
doing here, buying a tree?

Ah yes, well,

Brigitta

took almost 300 photos a week

to fulfill her role as family spy.

Ah, the gardener!

And what's
this little gentleman's name?

Alexis Dutertre.
Landscaping apprentice.

Ah, and always talking
to the Marrand girl.

That must've pleased Mother Marrand.

Oh. Nice alliteration.

Yeah, thanks.

Maybe I'll write

to Selma's ex-boyfriend,
as a courtesy. No?

Alexis? He used to work for me
as a seasonal worker.

"Used to." Does that mean he's gone?

I had to part with him ten days ago.

I'm working for a major client
who wasn't fond of him.

The Marrands?

And what was the problem
with your employee?

Oh, I don't know.

The housekeeper
took me aside one night

and told me she didn't want

to see him anymore,
but she didn't explain.

Brigitta?

But Alexis didn't care.

Having a permanent contract
isn't his thing.

He works when he needs to.

You know the type.

No, not really. Can you explain?

Well, the fringe type.

Deeply green,
anti-capitalist, anti-everything.

H's rehabbing a sailboat

to sail around the world.

Ah yes. The ideal son-in-law
for Ms. Marrand.

Fate has taken its toll
on this family.

You say he's not interested
in being an employee,

but losing enough to repair the boat

in one day,
that must not have pleased him?

Oh no, he was furious.

To the point of revenge?

Well, I'm not in his head.

Lady Chatterley's Lover.

The handsome gardener,
a little frustrated, rustic,

who seduces the young lady,

now that's a classic.

And fiercely anti-capitalist,
to boot, the man from the woods.

Ms. Marrand has Alexis fired
and he wants revenge.

Steals from the rich
to give to the poor,

that is, for himself.

He runs into Brigitta
as he's about to leave.

I hope it's not him
because he's so handsome.

What about some flowers?

For whom? Selma?

No, her ex-boyfriend.

No, I'm just kidding.

You're not kidding?

No, but it could...

You're not coming aboard,
and you're not touching my boat.

Ah well, it doesn't matter.
We'll chat from here.

I have nothing to say.

Where were you Saturday night?

At sea.

Alone?

No, with the dolphins.

Say, you've got a lot of work
to do on your boat.

The helm needs work, the winches...

Don't get me started.

You know about sailing?

I'm no Florence Artaud,

but my uncle taught me
when I was little.

And I remember
that little room, it was stifling!

What's it going to take to fix this?

I imagine that the jewelry you stole

from Ms. Marrand

would be enough money
to fix up your cabin.

You're crazy.

I see you! Jack Sparrow!

Your harbor neighbor's statement.

It says your boat
hasn't left the harbor

for the past ten days.

He heard you come aboard
at 6:30 on Sunday morning.

They also found 8,000 euros in cash
hidden at the bottom of the hold.

I hope it's not from the jewelry

because that's

not even a quarter of their value.

And this prepaid phone

on which you received
30 calls in two weeks

from the same number,

Bérénice Marrand's.

What did you promise Bérénice?

Take her around the world
on your sailboat?

The night of the murder,
were you with her?

You know the property
like the back of your hand.

You knew how to get in.

You didn't mean to kill her,
just steal the jewels?

No, you've got it wrong. Stop!

I was there because...

she was waiting to give me the money.

Brigitta?

Yes.

Sorry, my little sailor,

but you have to start
from the beginning

because I'm under water.

After getting me fired,
Brigitta came to see me

at the port and explained that...

Mrs. Marrand would pay in full

the cost of repairing my boat

if I became...

Berenice's boyfriend.

This family likes to offer
human beings to their children.

Sorry, I cut you off.

I refused, but...

she put 5,000 bucks
in front of me. I...

So, the deal was for me
to see Bérénice

in secret
until the end of the holiday,

without sleeping with her, of course,

and wait for her

to go back to boarding school,

to break it off
by telling her that...

that we were too different

and that our relationship
wouldn't last.

Yes. A painful break
but not insurmountable.

And a good lesson,

"You're not meant
to be with a poor man."

So, on the night of the murder,
you met with Brigitta

so she could give you your bonus?

Yes.

Bérénice is in the midst
of a teenage crisis.

This is the age

where children
stand up to their parents

to define themselves

and want to rebel

and have transgressive experiences.

Ah, it's beautiful. It's like Dolto.

And my daughter needed
that kind of experience.

To taste the thrill of the forbidden,

feel she was putting herself
in danger.

So you confirm
Alexis Dutertre's story?

If only we could prune our children

as easily as roses.

My only worry is that she'll find out

that we knew about them

and we facilitated it.

I'm hoping you won't tell her.

Ah, yes. Of course.

And we can mow the lawn,
too, if you like.

I managed to pick up a rose.

I'll give it to Selma
for our three-day anniversary.

She'll be pleased.

It's crazy, isn't it?

We get together,
and one morning we get up,

you look back, 72 hours has passed.

Almost a lifetime.

Good evening.

Yves,
what brings you here at this hour?

Well, I came on foot.

Concerning the Léna Novak case,
I found some interesting things.

The Cattoni file is a real goldmine.

Here, I've put a lot of post-it notes
for you.

Come in.

Oh no, I'll go

because if I don't, I'll be late.

Plus, it's good for me to walk.

Well, see you tomorrow, Your Honor.

-See you tomorrow.
-Thank you.

Don't we have
an appointment in an hour?

Léna Novak's pimp wasn't killed

by Cattoni's henchmen.

He was killed four days later

in a narcotics operation you ran.

And you shot him.

Naturally, your men said
it was self-defense.

So, what do we do now?

Tell me the truth,
or would you prefer

I ask for the investigation
to be reopened

with you as the main witness?

I'll leave you with this
to refresh your memory.

Just go straight
to the post-it notes.

My clerk added them.

You really want to reopen
the investigation?

He lied about the pimp's death.

I don't see why he shouldn't lie
about Léna Novak's death.

It's on him now.

Did you see it?
I found exactly the same as yours.

You'll have success
with that in town.

Oh no. It's not to go into town.

No, it's for driving
in the park or something.

It's not a real car.

Did you arrest Alexis?

He confessed to everything.
Your secret affair,

the jewel robbery,
and Brigitta's murder.

Really?

But what's going to happen to him?

Oh well, prison, ten to 15 years.

You can see the pool
really well from here.

Good thing you weren't at the window

or you'd have seen it all.

I was already in bed.

You didn't hear anything?

The party was over.
A burst of voices, you might hear it.

I had closed the window
and the blinds.

That's unusual in the summer.

Well, we have air conditioning.

Ah yes.

Well... Well, we'll leave you to it.

Oh, yes,
there's one more thing, Miss Marrand.

I'm sorry to have to tell you this,
but just in case

you want to go visit Alexis
in the visiting room

for the next ten to 15 years,

his love for you...

it was fake. It was comedy.

He was paid by your mother
to be with you

and leave you
so you would learn a lesson.

The night of the murder,
he had an appointment

with Brigitta by the pool

to receive his "salary".

He's perfectly innocent.

He had just come out of my room.

I saw them from my window.

I thought she'd surprised him.

When I came downstairs,

he was gone,

so I begged Brigitta

not to tell my parents.

It made her smile,

and she turned her back on me.

So...

I pushed her

and her head hit the statue.

And where did you put the jewels?

At the back of my closet,
in a shoebox.

I wonder
how this girl will endure prison.

It's sure to be a change
from the one she's known.

-See you tomorrow. Bye.
-See you tomorrow.

It had been six months
since Léna Novak's pimp

told us about Cattoni.

I went to see her every week
to get information.

I don't know how Cattoni found out.

I tried to protect her,
but he was faster.

And in retaliation,

he ordered the pimp
to kill her himself.

How can you be sure?

Four days after Léna's death,

I set up an operation,
and we raided his place.

And while I held him at gunpoint,
he confessed it to me.

Self-defense,
as certified by your men?

For six months, I visited her.

Six months of watching
little Zacharie grow up.

When she got to Marseille,

she cut ties with her family,

but she told me
about a younger sister.

She's in Belgium, she got
married, she changed her name, but...

I managed to find her.

Is Zacharie here?

Boy, did you scare me!
He's in his room.

I'll be right up.

How are you?

I'm fine.

Might want to turn that,
don't you think?

Don't worry. I just did, Josette.

The barbecue...

Yeah. It's a guy thing, right?

No, it's not!
Mom taught me, so I'll tell you...

No, it's...

Well, in the meantime, it's burning.

No, it's cooked.
You see, look. There!

It's the fat coming out.

Marianne, people are arriving!

Hello.

-Good morning.
-Good morning, good morning.

It's a double-entry birdhouse.

One for the mister,
another for the madam.

So they never hit each other,
you see.

Well, yes. Yes, yes.

Isn't our Pastor a bit
of a softie these days?

OK! You're in charge of the bottles

because he doesn't know how.

Come on!

I have a gift too.

Come on. Open it.

-What is it?
-A Jokari.

A cross between Josette and Zacharie.

It'll give you a souvenir
of our meeting.

I'll show you if you like.
I'm pretty good at it.

I won a tournament in '82
at Le Tréport.

Small regional level, though.

-Are you serious?
-It's true.

All set!

Help yourself because it gets cold.

Go ahead, Zacharie.

-Thank you.
-Mom.

Allow me. No, I'm only joking.

Thank you.

A mosquito...

Pass us the plates.

No, thank you.

Don't you want to tell them?

-No, I've already told it.
-Come on!

No, I won't.

-Oh yes, come on.
-Later, later.

Don't you want to tell a joke?

I'd like to say something.

Go on, sweetie. We're listening.

In fact...

I wanted to say thank you, Marianne.

For everything.

And I don't know what else to say.

That's good. Thank you.

Well, yes, that's very good.

Thank you, Marianne.

Thanks for everything.

It's true. Thank you, Marianne.

Come on. Let's eat.

Let's not spoil all Yves' good work.

I don't want to hear any more.
Let's eat.

It's very, very good.

-What a treat!
-Yeah, it's delicious.

I love it.

What do you think of my new shirt?

-I'm not sure...
-I'm not sure either.

A little big.

-No, it looks great on you.
-Yeah, it's not bad.

Here, Zacharie,
open the door for me, please.

We should have taken the TGV.

Marseille-Brussels is going
to take a long time.

But that's the good thing.
It's going to be a road trip.

This way,
we'll be together a little longer.

You forgot the chips!

Mom, we've got three days' worth
of food here.

You never know
if the car breaks down.

Has my car ever broken down?

It never breaks down.

Come on, big boy. Give me a smooch.

Enjoy your trip and your new home!

You'll send pictures, right?

I want to see you with your cousins,
your aunt, your uncle!

I promise.

Come on. Let's go.

Are you sure you want
to leave tomorrow?

Don't you want to wait
until I get back?

You'll be glad to have
your peace and quiet after all this.

Ah, well...

I'll have lots of that.

I'll be back.

You don't have to need a babysitter
to invite me over.

Oh, no. That's not why I invited you.

Come on!

-Bye, sweetheart.
-Bye, Mom.

And you stop every two hours,
no nonsense!

Yes, yes. No worries.

-Kiss!
-Goodbye.

Bye, now!

It's OK.

It's OK, it's OK.

Goodbye!