You better not faint.
Oh, no. I won't.
Right, Morel, take this. It's Bouvier's.
Take photos. You know how?
Sure.
- Don't touch anything. - No.
Who found him?
One of the housekeepers saw blood under the door there and called Giulia,
our head housekeeper, hmm.
Can you be sure she hadn't already come in here?
The door was still locked when I arrived. I used my master key.
- What time was this? - Six in the morning.
Did you open the window?
No. That's how I found it.
Well, I'd like to question the guests and the staff.
- Look it couldn't possibly be-- - No one leaves without my permission.
Right. Ahem.
Giulia, stay here and help the captain, all right?
It looks like a stab wound.
Thin blade.
A knife or a letter opener.
Was there one in the room?
Yes, there's one in every room here.
So, Giulia, you…
you're sure he was here yesterday?
Yes, we check on the guests daily.
Morel, you're only here because Bouvier can't work right now.
So just take notes.
The letter opener is likely the murder weapon.
The murderer obviously grabbed whatever was closest in the moment.
Billfold.
All right.
That's his room key.
He locked the door before the attack?
Which suggests he would've voluntarily locked himself in with his attacker?
It's possible they knew each other.
The murderer could've left by the balcony.
It's not too high from this floor.
Oh, I have something.
A check for 10,000 francs.
Payable to the victim, signed by Raoul Delaunay.
Who is he?
A guest at the hotel.
A friend of Mr. Jacquart.
Right, Morel, finish taking photos before they remove the body.
Show me to him.
SUMMER '36
But when you brought the champagne to Mr. Jacquart,
didn't you see who else was there?
He opened the door just wide enough to fit the tray through.
And Mr. Jacquard didn't receive any other visitors that day?
Hmm?
He did.
Miss?
Last night, when I was going around getting everyone's shoes,
Mr. Jacquart hadn't put his in the hall.
And?
Well, I went to knock because I thought he forgot.
And then I heard him talking to someone.
He was yelling and sounded upset.
Did you hear who he was talking to?
No, only Mr. Jacquart.
He said something like,
"That's enough, I won't give in to your threats."
I'm not giving in.
Evening.
- And then? - Madam.
Then I left.
I went to polish the shoes. I didn't want to be nosy.
And when was this?
At 11:30.
That's when I always start.
He could have been on the telephone.
Actually, no.
I checked with the front desk.
He didn't make or receive any calls from his room last night.
None at all.
Well.
He was still alive 30 minutes before midnight.
Take note, Morel.
- Thank you, everybody. - Thank you.
You can go now.
Where were you?
What do you care?
We should talk about what happened last night.
Jean.
You want to talk?
Let's talk.
How could you lie to me all these years?
When I found out I was pregnant,
we'd only just started living together.
We were so good.
For me, you were always his real father.
And Jacquart, you forget about him?
He never mattered. I'd already wasted enough time on him.
Then, Louis started looking more and more like him.
And I knew the truth.
Why didn't you tell me then, Eugénie?
Because it would've hurt you too much.
Would it have made a difference?
It was my decision to make.
You're the one who raised our son.
- The one who loves him. - Enough.
- You're the one-- - That's enough!
Jean.
Look at me, honey, please.
You will always be his father.
The best he could've ever had.
You lied to me, Eugénie.
Giulia.
It's a request for a retrial for Dad's case.
And look, he rejected it.
REQUEST FOR REVISION REJECTED
Have you lost your mind?
I couldn't just leave it there.
- Anyway, at least it'll save some time. - Save some time for what?
I need to find the case file down at the station.
That way, I'll have all the original evidence.
Statements, witnesses. Enough for my investigation.
Investigation? What investigation?
My own.
I ranked first in the police auxiliary training examination.
You're not making sense.
Giulia, we have three weeks to prove Dad isn't a murderer.
I won't help you anymore.
Mm. Too bad.
I'll do it without you then.
Did Mr. Jacquart spend the whole evening with you?
We just said hello, and that was about it.
With all these workers on paid vacation in Nice, it's no surprise.
Marthe!
What?
Why are you wasting your time here, questioning us?
Did you hear?
Eugénie's old fiancé was killed.
Angèle, that's enough.
What did I say?
I don't think this is an appropriate topic for my niece.
- No, I'm not a child anymore. - Yes, I know. Let's go.
Eugénie's old fiancé?
- Ex-fiancé. - Hmm.
Eugénie is our eldest daughter.
She was once engaged to Adrien Jacquart, years ago.
Was once?
She fell in love with another man and broke it off with Adrien.
And did you remain friendly after that?
Yes. That is to say, we were…
Courteous. We occasionally crossed paths.
Isn't your eldest daughter here on vacation with you?
No.
Do you know where she may be?
She's in Nice.
I suppose they didn't know.
I hadn't told them yet, that's right.
Eugénie married one of the workers in my factory,
then refused to have anything to do with us.
Then how would you know she's in Nice?
I wrote to her.
I wrote to ask if she'd come and meet me here.
I wanted to see if we could find a way back together again.
What is her married name?
Berthier.
Mm.
Do you know where she's staying in Nice?
Yes, Mina's boarding house. With her family.
Do you know if she's seen Adrien Jacquart since she arrived in Nice?
That's a question for Eugénie.
Eugénie has nothing to do with this sordid affair.
All right, so none of you visited Adrien Jacquart
in his room last night around 11:00?
- Obviously not. - Why would we?
None of us had any reason to.
Mr. Delaunay,
when was the last time you saw Adrien Jacquart?
It was just last night.
I still can't believe it.
And did he seem upset to you?
There was something he was trying to resolve.
I assumed it was work-related.
Did you leave the concert together?
No,
I stayed there a few minutes longer.
Afterwards, I went to play cards.
And what time did you leave?
1:30, approximately.
Had you known Mr. Jacquart long?
Twenty years.
We found a check made out to Mr. Jacquart,
signed by you.
Ten thousand francs is a lot of money.
Yes, it was money I owed him.
As a poker player, Adrien was ferocious.
Thank you for your time.
I must ask you to stay in Nice.
Of course, thank you.
Thank you.
Ah.
Mm, it appears to be just ongoing cases.
Nothing else.
Oh, wait.
"You are responsible."
"You'll be punished for this injustice."
"You're a murderer and you deserve to die."
That clearly points toward revenge, doesn't it?
Possibly.
Someone he sent to prison,
or one of their relatives.
Um, the maid heard him yelling at someone.
These letters, he could've been with whoever wrote them.
We'll ask that they dust for fingerprints.
- Take notes, Morel. Stay focused. - Mm-hmm.
He burned something.
Maybe another threat?
This one wasn't typed, though.
it was handwritten.
Looks like a woman's handwriting.
Could he have had an affair?
The private lives of our guests are none of our business.
But if your guest is killed, it is.
Now we have two possible motives.
Revenge or a crime of passion.
It's too dim in here,
I'll open the curtain.
What's that?
Another key for 215.
Oh.
I've informed Joseph Neuville, the new proprietor of the Riviera.
He's on his way.
We've found a second room key. Do you know where it's from?
Yes, of course,
Mr. Jacquart asked for a duplicate when he arrived.
And you're just telling me now?
Well, with everything that's happened, it slipped my mind.
Why'd he want another key?
Customarily, we don't ask those sorts of questions.
If I ever want to kill someone and get away with it, I should do it here.
Good morning, Félix.
Good morning, Miss Léonie.
Do you have to work all day today?
No, I finish at 4:00.
It's my night off tonight.
Oh, fantastic. I'll pick you up at four o'clock.
Well, all right.
I wonder, do you happen to know who handles mail for the guests?
Yes. Remi, the concierge. The one with all the keys in his jacket.
He's more efficient than the post office.
Thanks, Félix.
See you at 4:00.
He was most likely killed between midnight and 1:00.
A single thrust with a blade, very violent,
which slit his carotid artery.
Magnificent.
All right, anything else?
The killer must have been covered in blood,
and the wound indicates a blow from above.
So, the killer, taller than the victim.
A man?
Without a doubt.
- Hmm. - It's a very deep wound.
It would've taken a man's strength.
You should have seen my mother butcher a pig.
Captain, may I try something?
- Is that him? - No, he's the witness.
- Hmm? - Do you mind sitting down here, please?
Okay, you're Mr. Jacquart.
We're talking, it gets heated, I go behind you.
And suddenly, I grab the letter opener and bang, I strike!
You okay?
Come on.
All right.
- Hmm. - We have the same result.
A standing woman and seated man, the cut coming from above,
only the murderer might not end up covered in blood.
- Okay, so… - What do you think?
It's a possibility. Sure, it is.
Do you need me anymore?
No.
Very well.
Clearly, we should go question the ex-fiancée.
Eugénie Berthier? She seems very kind.
- You know her? - Yes, we're staying at the same place.
Small world.
I got the impression you also knew Giulia Vincent,
the hotel's head housekeeper.
Oh?
It's my first time in such a lavish place.
Count it again, Félix. Five hundred francs. Five hundred, Félix.
Oh, Giulia, just in time. Come here.
Five hundred francs are missing.
- Ah. - "Ah"?
They didn't just sprout wings and fly away.
Care to explain?
The restaurant? When they got change or something?
Last night, I was interrupted by a guest as I was counting the cash.
I might have miscounted.
All right, but we'll figure this out.
- Trust me. I-- - Hello, everyone.
Apologies, sir. The bar is closed right now.
Oh, not a problem.
Would you like something?
Uh, excuse me, sir, but are you a guest? Do you have a room here?
I think I have 187.
Joseph Neuville.
I'm the grandson of the former owner, and now the current owner of the Riviera.
Mr. Neuville, of course. Excuse me. Welcome to the Riviera.
I'm Edgar Girault, hotel manager. This is Félix. He can make you a drink.
- No need, thank you. - And this is Giulia Vincent.
- Head housekeeper. - Enchanté.
Enchanté.
Um…
Thanks.
I should be going. Excuse me.
So…
have any other guests died since this morning?
Adrien was murdered?
Yes, I'm afraid so.
You arrived yesterday in Nice, is that right?
Yes.
On the Paris-Ventimiglia.
Did you know Mr. Jacquart was here?
Not at all.
- But you knew he was? - I ran into him.
By chance.
While going to see my father at the Riviera yesterday morning.
Ah.
What sort of relationship did you have with him after you broke your engagement?
None at all.
Did you see him again after your chance encounter?
I had no reason or desire to ever see him again.
Why are you questioning her?
How's his death anything to do with us?
Your wife was once engaged to the victim and was in Nice when he was murdered.
You run into Mr. Jacquart, a wealthy, charming prosecutor, so successful.
The Riviera, all the luxury you left for an ordinary life.
You start having regrets.
You beg him to take you back.
He refuses, so you kill him.
See? With a little bit of imagination, it's everything to do with you.
Watch it, captain. That's my wife you're insulting.
Eugénie and Jean Berthier,
Militant union agitators.
Three arrests for disturbing the peace,
disorderly conduct, and refusing to comply.
A hot-tempered family.
You have your answers.
Leave now, please.
You're not to leave Nice until further--
We worked hard for this trip. We have no intention of cutting it short.
Morel.
Thank you.
All right, let's start with the victim.
Adrien Jacquart, 45, notorious prosecutors.
Did you know him?
Not really.
He was a prosecutor on one of my cases here in Nice,
then was transferred to Paris two years ago.
Not married, no children.
A lover.
Maybe a lover.
Or even an ex-fiancée.
Or a stranger he decided to drink champagne with, hmm?
Maybe it was whoever was given the duplicate key.
He or she.
There's a mysterious altercation in his room before his death,
threatening letters,
and a burnt, handwritten message.
Very good, Madeleine.
Thank you. Oh, what about Jacquart's assistant in Paris?
We spoke on the telephone. He'll come as soon as he can.
All right, um, the prefect is waiting for me.
Excuse me.
You, check the status of the burnt message from the ashtray.
All right.
Hmm. It looks like it goes after.
Oh, yeah. That's right.
- I can't make heads or tails of it. - How's it going?
Well, it's not easy.
We only have fragments of words, half-burned.
Why don't you put them on the floor, for perspective?
Why don't you go get us some coffee?
This isn't a parlor game.
What are you doing?
But it is a game, actually.
Come on, get down. That's enough.
"Past."
"Fault."
"Believe."
"Troubled."
"Capable."
CAPABLE OF ANYTHING
Uh, Eugénie.
What are you doing here?
I'm waiting for you.
Would you mind going for a walk with me?
I heard about Adrien.
Captain Raven came by.
- It's horrible. - Yes.
If you came to talk about Louis, don't bother.
I was clumsy and rude.
I apologize.
That's putting it mildly.
Remember Siren's Lookout?
You still go?
I've reserved it for our picnic, as usual.
Won't you cancel after what happened?
On the contrary, everyone could use a change of scenery.
Especially your niece, Angèle, who won't stop talking about murder.
- How old is Angèle now? - Sixteen.
It's time she got to know her aunt and her cousin.
Please come.
You and your family.
- Oh, no. - It's long overdue.
No. No. I'm not ready for that.
Never mind my husband.
Eugénie, I'm getting old.
All I'm asking for is a chance to get to know my grandson.
I'm…
…trying to fix old mistakes.
Consider it.
The French Employers' Confederation gala is tomorrow?
Yes. Why?
I'd like to attend.
And to meet them.
Your union comrades already got what they wanted, didn't they?
Only as much as could be wrenched from your friends.
It's not nearly sufficient.
What do you want?
We want the minimum age to be 16 years old.
We want our children in school, not factories.
I never thought you were capable of blackmail.
We're not going to the picnic.
But you were ready to make a deal with my father.
Not at any cost.
Whether we like it or not, my family is also Louis's.
I can already see your father throwing money around, trying to win him over.
- I don't want that for Louis. - But Louis won't be impressed.
He's smarter than that.
Just trust him.
We only go if Louis wants to.
You owe me an explanation, Henri.
An explanation? For what?
You leave without a word to go meet goodness-knows-who.
You hide the fact that Eugénie is here.
Was it her you went to see?
Yes.
But why now?
Eugénie has a son.
Louis.
He's 17.
Did you know?
Is the boy in Nice as well?
He is.
Actually, I just invited Eugénie and her family
to the picnic at the lookout.
You never thought to talk to me about it first?
Let's just say I wanted to avoid the melodrama.
After the murder of Eugénie's ex-fiancé, this is only, I'm afraid,
the beginning of the melodrama
As you call it.
They're in Nice and want to meet you.
Your grandfather especially.
But you said you didn't want to see them again.
- That we don't see eye to eye. - Yes, that's true.
But they're still my family.
And yours.
Wait a second, is that reason we came here
instead of going to Normandy with our friends?
It's up to you, though.
We aren't forcing you.
I know. I'll go.
At least I think.
Hey.
You know, I always loved this story.
Mademoiselle Eugénie Pontavis-Caron leaves her princess life for a worker,
and from their love, a son was born.
Louis Berthier Pontavice-Caron de Ménilmontant.
Gaby, that's enough!
Well, I'll go, anyway.
A big fancy picnic? Absolutely.
Thank you, sir.
Mrs. Vincent, you're two months late.
May I have a few more days?
I assure you'll have what I owe by the end of the month.
The Rocher School offers all our young ladies
only the finest quality education.
At a price.
In addition, you've chosen to have her stay all summer.
- I want the best for my Suzanne. - That's to your credit.
But I don't think she'll be quite the young lady you dream of.
- There you are. - Yeah. Thank you.
What do you mean? Her grades are excellent.
I know. I's her insolence that's the problem.
Do you care to hear something she's written?
On Madame Bovary?
"In conclusion, I would say Flaubert is the worst of misogynists."
"He very clearly despises women,
whom he imagines foolishly willing to marry inconstant husbands,
only to then burn with ridiculous passion for stupendously idiotic lovers."
So you see? We're talking Flaubert.
- Well, I must say, it's radical. - Yes.
I haven't even mentioned her club, the Amazons,
preparing a petition addressed to Mr. Blume,
demanding the right to vote for women.
Goodness.
Well, in any case, regarding tuition fees, I can give you until the end of this week.
After that, she'll have to go.
I'll make sure.
And I'll be waiting for you, Mrs. Vincent.
Daddy did what?
I don't believe it.
After the scandal Eugénie caused for this family?
You're concerned about the honor of your family?
Really?
You weren't very discreet with Adrien Jacquart.
We shouldn't be having a picnic now anyway, it's insane.
I won't be there. It's out of the question.
I am grieving.
You'll force yourself, for once.
And stay by Edouard's side, as you should.
Like you always did with Daddy?
Exactly.
You're not to act the grieving widow.
- And no arguing with your sister. - Don't you see?
Eugénie has always caused chaos.
You've never needed your sister's help creating chaos.
- Mom! - My darling.
Oh! I didn't know you were coming.
That nuisance Lefèvre called you because of Bovary, didn't she?
In part.
Flaubert is so boring.
Seriously, there's no words.
I told her it'd be better to study Human Condition by Malraux.
And she held out her crucifix, horrified.
"Lord help us!"
At least there's tennis.
And piano, too. I can't really play, but I love it.
How's English class?
It's going great. Look at this.
What's this?
Gone with the Wind.
- Nice cover. - Mm-hmm.
It just came out in America. A friend of yours brought it for me.
He said it's about when things vanish forever.
What friend?
Uh, Raoul, I think.
He was wearing these little black sunglasses.
Very dapper, very chic. He's at the Riviera.
- Raoul Delaunay? - Yeah.
- Did you talk for a while? - Just about school.
He wanted to know if I liked it here. He didn't tell you?
- He will, I'm sure. - Mm-hmm.
You want to read it out loud for me?
All right.
"Scarlet O'Hara wasn't beautiful,
but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm."
Oh.
Here you are.
Thank you all again for coming.
Hello, Mother.
Eugénie.
Aunt Eugénie?
- I'm your niece, Angèle. - I know.
Eugénie.
Oh!
Oh.
- Ah. - Hello, Eugénie.
Edouard.
- That's your son, I'm guessing? - Yes!
He's my grandson, Louis.
- Nice to meet you, sir. - Oh, no, no.
- Call me Grandpa, please. I'd prefer it. - Yes, sir.
Louis, I'm really happy to see you.
Hello, Blanche.
That's fantastic.
Madame, champagne?
I hope everyone brought a hat today.
He's Anne-Marie's favorite writer. Isn't that right?
So this is your picnic?
- Imagine if our comrades saw this. - Yeah, well, it's a family tradition.
We're just having lunch. Relax.
- Hello, sir. - Right.
Come, tell me about yourself.
How are you doing?
I understand you're quite brilliant, hmm?
He takes after his father. It's…
It's striking.
You'll attend L'École Normale Superieur?
Yes, next year.
And what's your favorite subject?
Literature.
You got that from me, I'm sure.
- I spent my youth reading everything. - Really?
What made you decide to run factories, then?
Oh, I had no choice, my boy.
Family heritage is a duty.
It's an honor also. You'll see.
Are you all right, Captain?
What do you think?
The prefect thinks the murder of a prosecutor is a sign of disorder.
And who gets the blame?
But it could lead to a promotion to Divisional Commander.
Yeah, well, I can tell you right now, I couldn't possibly care less.
I just want to be left to do my investigation.
Where are we on the burnt note found in the room?
Nice is beautiful. Do you ever go out at night?
Oh no.
You kidding? I'm confined to my room by nine o'clock, so, uh…
I'm going to the boardwalk with some friends tonight.
We'll play music.
Why don't you sneak out?
Angèle.
Come and join us, please.
Could you start the service?
"Obstacle."
"Impossible."
"Live without you."
"Love you madly."
"Capable of anything."
Bravo, gents.
Uh, no, Captain, it's her you should congratulate.
It's definitely a woman's handwriting.
Maybe the ex-fiancée, Eugénie Berthier.
I don't think so.
Where'd you get this?
Uh, I borrowed it.
It's mail from the Riviera Hotel.
Look at the handwriting and the signature.
Borrowed it. Huh.
You have something to say? Go on.
It doesn't make sense.
You come back to Nice after all this time, and Adrien gets killed.
What are you insinuating?
Blanche, stop it.
That you haven't changed.
You abandoned Adrien like the spoiled little bitch you are!
Blanche!
What's wrong with you?
Yeah, that hasn't changed either.
She disappears for years, and you-you still take her side.
That's enough!
Stop what you're doing.
Behave yourself.
What am I doing?
You understand what I mean.
But why? Because Gabriel is a worker, is that it?
- Exactly. - Pardon me?
Jean, leave it, please.
Don't you dare insult us.
- Up the stairs to the right. - All right.
Ladies and gentlemen.
Beautiful spot for a picnic.
A family picnic, that's right. Would you care to tell me why you're here?
Ma'am, please come with us.
Take note, Morel.
It's the 9th of August, 1936, at 3:00, and Blanche Ackerman,
you are under arrest for the murder of Adrien Jacquart.
I didn't kill him. Why would I do that?
Is this some sort of joke?
What is this? What's going on?
Your wife is suspected of killing Mr. Jacquart, her lover.
Is that clear enough?
Let's go.
No!
- This way, ma'am. - Let's go. Come on, ma'am.
Mom? No, Mom!
Please, no.
Let go of me, please.
I suggest you find her a very good lawyer.
Did you write this?
Mr. Jacquart didn't want you anymore, is that it?
Maybe because he recently saw his ex-fiancée,
your sister, whom he never stopped loving?
You're saying whatever you want.
My sister?
Why isn't she a suspect?
Well, she didn't write this half-burnt message, hmm?
"I can't live without you."
"I love you madly."
And finally, "I'm capable of anything."
Take a look.
You can see part of the Riviera Hotel letterhead.
And the handwriting looks exactly like yours.
A little suspicious.
We also have this.
"I'm here, my friend, finally in Nice."
"The sun is shining, but it's terribly hot."
"I'll write more in a letter soon. Miss you. Love, from Blanche."
I'm gonna tell you what happened, hmm? In my opinion.
After the party, you went back to the hotel.
You went into his room with the duplicate key he gave you.
He arrives, you argue.
Maybe he admitted he still loved your sister.
You don't want him to leave you.
As you said, you're capable of anything.
You grab the closest weapon, a letter opener--
That's ridiculous!
Take me back to the hotel immediately.
You are under arrest, Mrs. Ackerman.
Next is to compare your fingerprints while you sit in a cell.
Officer.
- Is that him? - No, he's…
And fell down the stairs?
If she's the murderer,
why'd she hide the key behind the curtain and leave by the window? Why not the door?
We're talking about a woman capable of inviting her lover
to the very hotel she's staying at with her husband and her family.
The hysteria of a woman in love defies comprehension.
Which is to say…?
Well, in a panic, she dropped the key on the floor,
horrified by what she did.
I mean, a murder is about motive.
And Blanche Ackerman, who had just been rejected by her lover, had one.
A motive, yes, but what proof?
By the way, Morel, the whereabouts of your uniform, still a mystery?
Well, who do you think you are?
Tell me, the captain's wife,
she left without warning recently, didn't she?
How'd you find that out?
And your father was convicted of murdering the printshop owner?
Yes, it's absurd. I have to prove his innocence.
GORAN & SONS PRINTING
You ready?
I hoped for something more romantic for our first date.
Yes, I'm ready.
I told you already, we ordered invitations last month.
My wedding's in 15 days, and we have no invitations.
Uh, hold on, hold on.
Excuse me, sir?
Disgraceful.
Mr. Goiran?
Coming.
Coming. What is it?
Hello, everyone. What's going on, Camille?
Listen, if I have to cancel our wedding because we can't send invitations.
I'll send you a bill.
Calm down, sir.
- I'll check the book, and if the mistake-- - Because I'm lying to you? Makes sense.
I don't think you're lying, but I need to verify--
Can you believe this?
See how they speak to their own customers here?
Calm down, if you please, and follow me.
- You and I will go verify your order… - I'm not going anywhere with you.
I want there to be witnesses. You won't get away with this.
You don't know who you're dealing with.
Very well, sir.
I'll go have a look.
What are you doing in here?
I was shown the wrong way for…
Which way is the restroom?
Thank you, sir.
Hmm.
Well, I hope there isn't an issue with mine.
I'll be right with you. I just have to finish her order.
THE RIVIERA INVITES YOU TO ATTEND THE FRENCH EMPLOYERS' CONFEDERATION GALA.
You scared me.
Look at what I found in the office.
- An identity card? - A fake identity card.
There was a drawer of them.
You think he's using the printshop to make fake IDs?
I think he sells them. I guess it pays more than invitations.
- Shall we? - Sure.
Jesse Owens has won his fourth gold medal.
It's another notch in this incredible athlete's belt.
In fact, thanks to him, the United States now has 12 medals.
These Olympic Games are being dominated by Black American athletes.
Fréderic Goiran is the son of the printshop owner.
He's always insisted that the night his father was murdered,
he saw my father run off.
- You think he's lying? - I'm sure of it.
But I have to find a way to prove it.
- And did your father have an alibi? - No.
No, he lived alone after my mom died, so no one saw him get home that night.
And now he's facing execution.
It's horrible.
In the printshop office drawer,
fake identities weren't the only thing I found.
There was also a gun in there.
I have a really bad feeling.
There's more to this…
What?
- It's nothing. - No, what?
Sherlock Holmes better watch out.
Well, yeah.
In public?!
A couple like that?
Shameful.
Bravo, Jesse Owens!
Give this guy a gold medal for kissing. Vive la France, ladies and gents!
- Vive la France! - Keeps on getting better.
Vive la France!
I had to go get a dress in Room 202 myself last night.
- Why's this always happening? - Oh, jeez, nothing. I forgot, that's all.
I'm afraid that's one mistake too many.
Come to my office after work. I'll give you your final paycheck.
I didn't say anything this morning.
But I might change my mind
and go to the station.
I saw you coming out of Mr. Jacquart's room the day of the murder looking upset.
- And how does this concern you? - Me? It doesn't concern me at all.
But it might concern Captain Raven.
Especially since you never told him, so he'll find it suspicious.
As for me, I like minding my own business, and I can go to the grave.
I'll take care of the dress.
And you, go up and give a bouquet of flowers to the guests in 202, hmm?
My dear Henri, I heard about poor Blanche.
It must be difficult to focus on your work when your family is going through this.
I can't fathom why you think you'd have the right to discuss my family.
I have nothing further to add.
As of tomorrow, your daughter's arrest will be all over the papers.
- Nothing at all to do with you, I'm sure. - Well, of course not.
That's very bad for business, though, Henri.
And your business is already fragile.
What you need is a partner with a spotless reputation.
I've already drafted a contract.
Thank you, Raoul.
But I wouldn't feel right dragging a man as upstanding as you into my downfall.
Hello, my darling. I hope you're all right.
I miss you so terribly.
I love you.
I wish you would stop coming here.
But I can't.
I need to. It makes me feel better.
I know.
Thanks for always being there.
You're my little sister.
Is there any news from Blanche?
They aren't going to charge her, are they?
Of course not.
Edouard has it in hand. He would've contacted his lawyer.
Is there a problem?
Nothing connected to our case.
It'll be reassuring when you're far away.
Here.
Thank you.
Until your departure, be as discreet as possible.
Blanche didn't kill Adrien. I don't believe it.
I don't want to talk about him.
Or about your family picnic.
Did you see Louis's face when we got there?
The waiters, the champagne. That's not our world.
I only saw him getting to know his grandfather.
That's all he was interested in.
And when we go back to Ménilmontant with communal toilets,
what will you tell him then?
It was nice, but now it's over?
No.
If he wants to see his grandfather, I won't stop him.
You said it yourself, Louis is my son.
He'll only go see his grandfather when I say so.
It's fast, but fun.
I'm starting to get the jumps now.
- Do you want to? - Let's go!
Yeah, go show us how it's done.
I feel the moves!
Look at this!
Oh, they're perfect.
Wow.
Oh!
Oh! Whoa! Yes!
- Whoo! - They should be on stage.
Oh, yes.
- Wow, look at that! - Whoa!
Whoo!
Oh! Whoa!
Amazing.
- Bravo! - Bravo!
Wait, I have to go.
- What? Wait! - Sorry!
You okay?
What?
- They let your mom go? - No.
Don't worry, it'll work out. It always does for the rich.
- The rich? What do you know about us? - No, no, I didn't mean it like that.
I was-- Sorry, that was dumb. I'm sorry.
I just meant it'll all work out.
Show me that dance.
All right.
Let's go. Come on.
You'll see.
Mrs. Vincent.
Why would you go visit my daughter at school?
To find something out.
I wanted to know why you're in so much debt.
It's for her.
I don't understand.
I bought your gambling debt from Mr. Jacquart, you see.
Then you know I have no way of paying you back.
Calm down.
I don't care about the money.
I will erase all of your debt.
Even what you owe that fancy school where you send your little Suzanne.
I'd rather end up living on the street than sleep with the likes of you.
We found your fingerprints on the burnt note
found in an ashtray in the hotel room where Mr. Jacquart was murdered.
I was more than his lover.
We were in love.
How did the key he gave you end up on the floor behind the curtain?
I don't know.
Someone must have stolen it.
Well, that's convenient for you, huh?
Another dirty trick from your sister, I imagine?
That note you wrote,
those are the words of a woman gone mad because her lover is leaving her.
It was a love letter.
I did say I was capable of anything, yes.
Of leaving everything for him.
If I were you, I'd confess.
A crime of passion.
You might only get a few years in prison.
What?
Captain,
it's Mrs. Ackerman's husband.
He's demanding to speak to you right away.
What?
You stay here.
After you, sir.
Good evening.
Mr. Ackerman, I'm not yet finished with your wife.
I'm not here for that.
I came to confess.
It was me.
I killed Adrien Jacquart.