02x02 - Maigret in Montmartre

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Maigret". Aired: March 2016 to December 2017.
"Maigret" is an adaptation of the books by Georges Simenon featuring the fictional French detective Jules Maigret.
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02x02 - Maigret in Montmartre

Post by bunniefuu »



Princess Xenia Zakharova, all the way from St Petersburg.

You are so good and you've brought your exquisite daughters.

My dears, you shall break so many hearts.

Now, this is Sir Greville Haig, the new ambassador.

Sir Greville, I must reproach you.

You are too naughty.

Why have you brought from London this fog?

It's quite a party, Countess.

I'm afraid the fog is in your brain.

You want some more, but you can't have any more, darling, can you?

Because you've had it all.

You're a woman after my own heart.

Bloody shreds.

Bloody shreds, indeed.

Now, one of us has to hawk our backside round the Bois de Boulogne, and I don't think yours'll fetch very much, do you?

I need some cash.

Money, darling, where is it?





I shall have to take this.

Just for a tick, just until tomorrow, all right?

Good girl.

The Countess is not receiving!

I said the Countess is not receiving.


♪ La-bas le chat

♪ Est sur le toit

♪ Le chien

♪ Chasse dans le rue

♪ L'oiseau

♪ Il vole dans le ciel

♪ Et moi

♪ Vois tout la tout ♪

Club le Picratt, ladies and gentlemen.

Your mother wouldn't like it, but your mother's in bed.

20% discount with this card.

Girls, girls, you like girls, ladies?

Some do.

Step right in, gents!

♪ Those stumbling words

♪ That told you what my heart meant

♪ A fair ground's painted sweet Not now.

♪ These foolish things

♪ Remind me of you

♪ You came

♪ You saw

♪ You conquered me

♪ When you

♪ Did that to me

♪ I knew somehow

♪ This had to be...

♪ Beautiful.

Oh, so beautiful.

I have to go.

But you can't.

You've got another set.

Arlette, Arlette, Arlette, you're my star.

People will complain.

I might have to...


You might have to what?


Ladies and gentlemen, stop right there.

You need music, you need Champagne, you need...

to put some lead in your little propelling pencil.

You need the erotic inferno that is...


She'd give a d*ad man a stand.


Are you OK, Miss?

I have to explain, there must be someone here I can speak to.

You can speak to me, Inspector Janvier.

You're not giving me answers.

There must be someone else.

I will try to do all I can.

I've been sitting here for hours.

Calm down and I will assist you!

Who's this?

Is he senior to you?

In every respect, Miss.

Chief Inspector Maigret, this is Arlette.

We're trying to establish how we can help her.

Another bucket of Cognac, maybe?

What did he say?

Could we please start at the beginning?


JANVIER: Evening, Pierre.

I sing at a club in Pigalle.

Le Picratt.

Do you know it?

It has these kind of...


I was doing my act and...

there was these two men.

I could hear them, whispering.

While you were singing?

When I'd finished.

What were they saying?

They're going to k*ll someone.

Did they say who?

The Countess.

The Countess who?

Well, I don't know.

Did they say how they intended to do this or when?

You're laughing at me.

No, I'm not laughing at you.

I'm merely trying to establish the facts.

This 'Countess', is that a stage name or...

I don't bloody know, do I?

A Countess, like a...

lord, you know?

An aristocrat.

Do you think I'd be talking to people like you if this wasn't urgent?

I need to lie down.

She needs to lie down.


Let her sleep.


Was he one of the men?


Talking in the club?

Where are you going?


I'll get you an escort.

Don't patronise me.

Arlette, please, take my card, in case you want to talk to me again.

Tomorrow, possibly.

How long were you planning to sit there with your coat on?

It's two in the morning.

I know.

Happy Birthday.

Oh, that's sweet.

Where did you find it?

There's nothing inside, I'm afraid.

It was my mother's.

I made it for her, when I was at school.

You made it?

As in you made it?

Inspector, we're impressed.

It's for putting things in, fairly obviously.

Special things.

Well, that's something we don't do often enough.

Surprise each other.



Oh, hello, Janvier.

Yes, of course, I'll just get him for you.

It's Janvier.

Janvier, good morning.

I'll be right there.

Who's up there?

Dr Paul.

Lognon's lying in wait, giving a lot of nonsense about jurisdiction.

He found the card you gave her.

Oh, of course he did.

Who's this?

This is the concierge, Maigret.

Deaf as a post.

I've practically lost my voice shouting.

I saw the girl do her turn the other night, down at Le Picratt.

Tremendous voice, Maigret.

Great legs.

I'm taking the case.

Apparently, you are acquainted with the corpse.

When did this happen?



She was strangled.

Tried to fight the man off, broke her arm in the process, then her neck.


Or a woman with very big hands.

Look at the bruises.

This feels like her private space.

If the k*ller is a man, he was in here without her consent.

I don't think she brought men here.

And this is a fake - this identity card.

But it's a good one.

She spent some money on it.

Oh, my God.

Lapointe, I've got a job for you.

I want everything on people in Paris, male or female, calling themselves 'Countess'.



I want it immediately.

Yes, Chief.

He's young.

Yep, that's blood.

It's fresh, and it's not hers.

The skin's unbroken.

There's some more on the floor, there.

There's nothing under the fingernails.

Or on any object she might have used as a w*apon.

The k*ller must have been already bleeding when he got here.

Or there was a third person in the room.

Excuse me.

Police Judiciaire.

Inspector Janvier.

This is Chief Inspector Maigret.

We'd like to talk to the owner.


If that's his name, that's who we'd like to see.

Could you go get him, please?

I usually let him have a lie-in.

Is it urgent?

Yes, it is.



Fred is your husband?

Now you're getting the idea.



So what's up, anyway?

Can I help?

Madame Alfonsi...

Oh, Rosa.


Could we sit down?


We've come to speak to you about Arlette.


Very careful, my darling, what you say and don't say.

We don't want you going back where you came from.

Right, then, folks, who do we have here?

Chief inspector Maigret.

And Inspector Janvier.

That's Maigret.

I have a licence.

Everything's in order.

I pay on the nail.

Arlette's d*ad.

Come again?

The girl you employ under the stage name Arlette was strangled in her bed in the early hours of this morning.

What was her real name?

Erm, Arlette Giraud.

I mean, that's what it said on her papers.

I understand that last night two men sat together in one of these stalls.

Which one?

Two men, like a couple?

Not necessarily.

Two men together, no.

Arlette sat in one, mind, with a young man.

It was before her show.

Her boyfriend?

He wanted to be, by the look of it.

Did you catch his name?

Do the girls have a dressing room?

Maybe I can take a little look at?

Did any of the customers sleep with Arlette?

We don't do that.

We're a nightclub, not a knocking shop.

Did you?

Did I what?

Yes or no?

I have a go with all the girls when they start, it's like...

part of the training.

None of this on the premises, mind.

There's plenty of by-the-hour places round here.

She doesn't mind.

Ask her.

Ideally, not right now, she's a bit upset.

Who else works here?

Er, some musicians, barman, a couple of waiters, a cook, a plongeur.

That's it.

Oh, and er, the Grasshopper.

He's a crookback, everybody calls him Grasshopper.

He hangs around out the front touting for business.

Nobody who works here or comes here is known as the Countess?

Or Oscar?

I suppose we're in for some publicity?

I suppose you are.

Generic description, worse than useless - nice young man in a hat.

Nevertheless, we want this boyfriend, Janvier.

He is key.

Was Fred sleeping with Arlette?

All the girls get the benefit of Fred's attention.

How does Mrs Fred feel about that?

Apparently, she doesn't mind.

The girl came to us for protection.

She told us her name was Arlette.

She spun us a line about two men - apparently, non-existent - plotting to m*rder a countess.

But what she actually wanted was for someone to keep her safe.

And I didn't see that.

And I let her stumble out of here in the middle of the night, drunk.

Then we'd better find the bugger responsible.

I'm who's responsible.

But I'm going to find the man who k*lled her.


We have a d*ad countess.


I've tracked down all the aristos, emigres, transvestites and lunatics calling themselves 'Countess', including one woman whose name is actually Lucille Countess.

76 of these people are in Paris.


Go to all the hotels and flophouses within walking distance of Arlette's flat.

See if anyone remembers her taking a room.

If so, who was with her.

We need this boyfriend.

What's up?

It's almost as though k*lling her wasn't enough.

She clearly put up a hell of a fight.

I'll tell you something else.

Same k*ller?


None that I can see.

When did this happen?

Last night.

Before or after the girl?


Rigor's well set in.

So the k*ller went from here to Arlette's.


Establish the routes he could've taken from this flat to hers.

Talk to everyone.

Who's that?


Tell her we'll talk to her downstairs.

Come with me.


There are objects of value here.




But no food.

No means of cooking it or eating it.

Nothing to sustain life.

Welcome to the wonderful world of morphine.

I'll get Moers to look at these?

Gendarme found this outside.

I guess it proves what we already know.

Our k*ller's not a thief.


He came to destroy lives.

What we don't know is if he thinks he's finished or if he's just getting started.

No, she married the Count before the w*r, a much older man.

They lived in a hotel in Nice, the way people did.

The St Simon.

Very swish.

I think that when he died she just gave up.

I mean, the way she lived here was just frightful.

Come in.

Was she ever visited by a young woman called Arlette?


Did she have many visitors?

Scarcely any.

Her doctor, mainly.

When I was told what had happened I sent for him.

He should be here any minute.

Bloch his name is.

A Jew, of course, but perfectly pleasant.

The only other one who came regularly was a horrid pansy, forever flouncing up and down the stairs.

God knows what they found to talk about.

Was he here last night?

Very likely.

Yes, yes, definitely.

What's his name, do you know?

Er, begins with an F.


Certainly begins with an F.

What about Oscar?

Well, he's always around.

He's here right now.

Would you like to meet him?

Yes, please.


Come in.

Isn't he splendid?

He is indeed.

How did you know his name?

He is a detective.

I wish you particular luck on this one, Maigret.


What's he doing here?


I'm Dr Bloch.

I know who you are.


I presume you're the police, yes?

I understand my patient has been as*ault.

How is she?

No longer in need of your ministrations, Doctor.

Oh, God.

How awful.

Can I see her?

I'm afraid not.

We don't want extra fingerprints at the crime scene.


in that case I'll...

Why don't you come with us, back to my office?

Have a cup of coffee.

I don't quite understand what's happening.

Are you arresting me?

I'm merely asking you if you want a cup of coffee, Doctor.

One thing at a time.

And don't forget your bag.


Shall I tell you what I think?

I think that if we looked inside your bag that we would find, among the regular apparatus, a surprising amount of morphine.

That was the basis of your professional relationship with the Countess, was it not?

You were her dealer.

Look, I can explain.

If a patient - all right?

- is as addicted as she was, all one can do is regulate the consumption, contain the dependency.

Do you regulate and contain a lot of your patients?

This is your one chance to answer questions in a civilised environment.

I would urge you to concentrate.

Did you ever see a singer called Arlette at the Club Le Picratt?

I was told she was very good.

Was she one of your patients?

I have no idea...

What about Oscar?

Was he one of yours?

Look, I've never been to this rat club, or whatever it is, I don't know any of these people.

What about the rent boy?


Him you do know.

What's his name?

Begins with an F.


Philippe Martinot.

It begins with a P.

Where does he live?

No idea.

Never spoke to him.

It's possible he has the room above the Countess.

But he's never there.

He spends the nights with his clients, wherever they want to go.

There isn't a room above the Countess.

Up in the loft.

She lets the boy use it.

The concierge doesn't know.


There's something missing.


We have no connection between the Countess and Arlette.

Did they have anything in common?

Why are we still talking about Arlette?

Why can't we find out her real name?

She didn't want us to know who she was.

Didn't want anyone to know.

She didn't want Oscar to know where she was.

You're assuming Oscar and the boyfriend are different people?


I'm merely remembering that when she cried out his name in her sleep, it wasn't with joy.

She was terrified.

So, we have no connection between the m*rder women, no young man in a hat and when Arlette was strangled there was a third person in the room.

We can't find them, either.

Get hold of Philippe, bring him in.

I'm going to talk to those dancers.


You spend the night sitting in a club with a bunch of showgirls.

I spend the night in the cold looking for a rent boy.

That's the chain of command.


Mind your head.

GRASSHOPPER: Gather round, dear friends, I want to let you in on a little secret.

Wonderful people, you need liberation from the dull, old grind.

You need Le Picratt, as featured in Paris Soir!

20% discount with this card.

This gentleman, clearly feeling wonderful.

That got his attention.

Can you help me?

Now, why would a big-time bloodhound like you need help from a poor little cripple like me?

Grasshopper, he sees it once, he has its number.

He figured it for a cop straight off.

Then it opens its mouth and, lo, it's Maigret.


Looking for a m*rder.

I was wondering if you might have seen anything.

Is Betty on tonight?

She is indeed, my friend, loose as a goose and hot to trot.

Nice to know.

We get all sorts.

We get couples, we get men dressed as women, women dressed as men, priests, old geezers playing with themselves under the table when the girls take their kit off.

Sleaze balls, losers and lost souls.

But m*rder?


What about an Oscar?

He's your m*rder, is he?

No, no Oscar.

Any more questions, sir?

You're putting off my punters.

Just one.

How well did you know Arlette?

I was thinking about having her.

Blink all you like, but the girls know what's good for 'em.

All I had to do was ask.

She was generous that way.

Announcing the showgirl Betty.

Chief Inspector.


Your money's no good here tonight.

Look how the place is filling up.

You did that, putting us in the papers.

Barman, give this gentleman whatever he desires, and keep it coming.

What'll it be, comrade?


But I'll pay.

Anything else you'd like?

I'd like to speak to the girls.

And so you shall.

Er, Rosa!


Chief Inspector wants the girls.


I'm auditioning for a replacement for Arlette tomorrow.

Probably a stripper.

You might like to come along.

You might find it instructive.

I'm Betty.

This is Tania.

You wanted us.


Can't, love, I'm on in a second.

I'm gathering information about Arlette.

About her life, her place of work.

She didn't dance, did she?

She called it dancing.

All she had to do was walk on stage, fellas start frothing at the mouth.

You married?


Yeah, you're married.

You have that look.

What's the word?



Arlette had a boyfriend.

Not that I'm aware of.

His name might have been Oscar.

I suppose it might have been, dear.

I never saw him.

Poor Arly.

That wasn't her name.

It was Marie Lefevre.

Well, I never.

Hey, hey, you're on.

Girls, girls, lovely girls.

Thank you.

Tall girls, skinny girls,...

Thank you.

.. girls who are very obviously mammals.

We got 'em.

And none of them any use to you.

Because it's just a little corpse looking for its grave.

Betty doesn't remember a boyfriend.

Betty's a nice girl but she's very stupid.

She sees nothing.

Arlette really liked that boy, I think.

She didn't tell me his name.

That's why I thought he was special.

To have a secret in this place is special.

Fred doesn't like secrets?

Or is it Rosa?

Rosa's a good woman, so you leave her alone.

She's been very good to you?


So these people here tonight - the regulars.


Do you know any of them?

None of these peoples are regulars.

Oh, come on, Tania.

What about the man in the booth behind me?

I've never seen him before in my life, and besides, he's gone.

Ladies and gentlemen...

Thank you.

.. you need music.

You need...

The man who asked about Betty.

Who is he?

God knows.

He's a regular.

You addressed him as "my friend".

Everybody's my friend.

He ain't a regular, he's a first- timer.

How did he know Betty's name?

People round here know the girls.

Especially since you got 'em in the paper.

Where are you?

Arlette's flat, where the girl was k*lled.

She's there, yes?


And you're the m*rder?

The blood on the floor - O-positive.

The blood on the wall - B-positive.

Arlette is B-negative.

None of this is hers.

So there's a third person in the room and we are both bleeding.

Are you so preoccupied with your m*rder that you don't notice someone coming in behind you?

Someone who tries to stop me.

Or just...

grabs me, s*ab me, because it's too late to save Arlette.

I lash out in pain and I'm certain that I've k*lled them, too.

But after I leave they recover.

They're still alive.

Madame Maigret, you're a very clever woman.

But if that's what happened, it actually makes things worse, because Oscar's carrying a wound and he'll want to find who did that to him, because they've seen him.

He's got another person to k*ll.

Right, Arlette was not Arlette, she was Marie Lefevre, so let's get onto that very quickly, please.

I don't know where she was from, but I'm guessing not Montmartre.

Also, the report from the morgue says that the Countess's body was covered in scars.

She was looking for veins.

Not on her back.

Some of the scars date back years and look like cigarette burns.

Who was doing that to her?

And why?

Where's Philippe?

The gentleman was in when I called round, but he promptly did a bunk out the window, but he won't get far.

He's a junky chasing a fix, looking for trade.

The one photo that we have got of him, I've given to the uniforms.

I'll find him.

Well, you won't find him here.

You want to earn yourself some cash?


You have a room?

Give me 100 metres.

I'm so sorry, I got held up.

That's all right, sunshine.

You've found me now.


This is epic.

What is?

This correspondence from Nice.

Count to Countess.

Elderly gentleman of rarefied taste salutes his child bride.

It's really very sweet.

How did he die?


Well, not quite so romantic.

The press reports say the Count fell from the balcony, ten floors up.

The coroner says: a fit of dizziness.

The world says: the old boy jumped.

Why, if they were so happy?

Well, they started happy, but ended up in hell.

The second year of marriage he started on her.

Nothing she could do was right.

Reading between the lines, I think he was a rather nasty piece of work.

And anyway, the note here from the hotel manager of the St Simon suggests that six months after the funeral she was broke.

Er, she cut and ran to Paris where she fell into bad company and paid the price.

Do we think that the Count might've been pushed?

That is not suggested in these documents.

Are these the earlier letters?



Sir, I haven't finished with those.

You'll get them back.



Erm, I went round all the hotels and nobody's let a room to Arlette.

Well, they wouldn't have.

Why's that?

Because she wasn't that sort of girl.

Lognon, just the man.

Montmartre is very much your fiefdom.

My what?

Alfonsi told us that he took Arlette to a hotel close to the club.

Mind checking around?

Show the managers a picture of Fred.

Chief, I've already been to every single one...

You, come with me.

I had a feeling that Arlette was significant.

I was going to marry her.

Oh, Lapointe.

We have been looking for YOU.

"Young man in a hat".

I know, I know.

I'm sorry.

I did try to say.

I hadn't actually asked her yet.

I only met her three times, but that can be enough, can't it?

Yes, that can be enough.

The first time we met it was professional, you know?

I was just a punter, buying the Champagne.

But the third time...

the last time..

we connected.

We really connected.

What did you talk about?

Arlette didn't want to talk about herself.

She said, "Just like me as I am now." I told her I'd have liked her as she was then, but she said, "No, you wouldn't." She was, um, born in a town called Lisieux.

Her aunt makes frocks, I think.

She said nothing about life at the club?

Only that Alfonsi's wife had been kind to her.

She was kind to all the girls.

You were there last night with Arlette?

Earlier in the evening I was, but I couldn't stay for her first set, so she must've gone straight from the club to the Quai.

To you.

Did you see anyone who could have been an Oscar?

I only saw her, Chief.

That place could've been filled with dope-crazed axe m*rder, I wouldn't have noticed.

Marie Lefevre.

Does that name mean anything to you?

Anything else in that last conversation?


Arlette had this brooch.

It was an emerald, very classy.

I asked her, "Where did you get it?" She said, "It was given me, in Nice." Then she clammed up.


Go to the Hotel St Simon and get a list of every member of staff who's moved on since the Count died, where they've gone and why.




Are you getting rid of me?

No, I'm sending you to the heart of the case.

That's how Arlette and the Countess are connected.

Same time, same city, same hotel.

It's the link.

Dig it out.

Where are YOU going?

Madame Dussardier?

My name is Maigret.

Police Judiciaire in Paris.

Please come in.

The first duty of a lady is gaiety.

She must be able and willing to sing, dance, play the piano.

In her conversation, she must scintillate.

That is what I was taught.

What I was not taught was how to sew.

It was not appropriate.

And yet here I am, taking business into my own house.

A seamstress.

I saw the paper yesterday and recognised the girl as my niece.

You won't find her mother here, by the way.

She's long gone.

She disowned the girl the day she was thrown out of the convent.

For what offence?

The same offence.

Committed again and again with the most deplorable men of the town.

Some people are born bad.

I'm not sure I believe that.

The autopsy revealed Marie had given birth when she was much younger.

Possibly as young as 13.

The whole of Lisieux was paralysed with dread.

Who was the father?

It could have been anybody.


Poor child.

Poor child?

I don't think so.

She knew what she was at.

What happened to the baby?

It was born d*ad.

I learned this...

from my husband.

You see,... he thought the child might be his.

He tracked the girl all the way to the Riviera.

He found her, working as a chambermaid in some hotel.

The St Simon?

The name of the hotel was not a detail that concerned me.

But my husband was right - he was the father of the child.

I'm afraid it'll be necessary for me to speak to him.

Then you'll need to have friends in the highest of high places.

My husband hanged himself.

The girl's enchantment lay all over him, you see.

It lay all over every man she ever met.

That was her curse.

The Countess, Arlette, niece.

Could you move those?


Did you really burn all my letters to you?

You'd made me very, very cross.

I was on a case.

I was waiting in church, standing like a lemon.

It was a rehearsal.

It's not that I missed the actual wedding.


Let's not dredge this all up again.

I'm just saying it was unfortunate.

That's the thing.

What's the thing?

At the heart of this case is a man who feels aggrieved.

Could I ask you to do something, just for ten minutes, just while I have you here?

Stop worrying about your m*rder.


That's the key.

I'm really sorry.

Roll up your sleeves.


Do as you're told, you filthy little fairy.

That's enough.

Why won't you let us see your arms?

The evidence of what illegal activity would become apparent?

You have your addiction and I have mine.

An addiction you shared with your countess, who was m*rder.

The only interesting question is: were you there when she was m*rder?

I know for a fact that you were, Philippe.

That's why you ran away.

How did you know?

Oh, I didn't.

But I do now.

So that's your problem, isn't it?

He k*lled her, but he didn't quite k*ll you.

And now you're scared.

I'd like a lawyer, please.

I'm sure you would.

You probably know a few lawyers, in your line of work.

But I wouldn't rely on these professional people to rally to your cause.

Take Dr Bloch, for instance.

He gave you up like that.

I don't think you need a lawyer, Philippe.

What you need is a hit.

Isn't that right?

Your eyeballs are itching, your skin's on f*re.

Your brain is crawling with wasps.

All you're thinking is, "Give me morphine." Well, I can't, but what I can do is to set you free.

Tell me what I need to know, Philippe, and you can leave and Janvier here will have to find someone else to terrorise.

Marie Lefevre.

Also known as Arlette.

Have you ever heard that name?

I'm telling you nothing.

You really are very frightened, aren't you?


Slacking again?

Everything I do...

Everything you do what?

Defile it with your filthy hands.

You still got a headache, darling?


You know what's good for you, don't you?


A bit of bed.

I'm not tired.

Who's talking about tired?

If you hit me, I'll scream.


Well, don't do that, because then I might get a headache.





Leave her.

That man...

is a shit.

No, no, no, no.

You should take this and rip...

Tania, put it down.

Tania, you're forgetting yourself.


Fred took me in.

Like I took you in.

I've done some bad things in my time and he's never asked questions, never passed judgement.

What I have now, it's not much of a life, but what there is I owe to him.

Do you understand?

You watch yourself, girl, we don't want you back in prison.

You're a sl*ve.

No, Tania, I'm a wife.

Now, clear that up, please.

Oh, for God's sake.

What's this?

The, er, person being interviewed fell over, sir.

Isn't that right?

Well, I don't want him falling over again.

Is that clear?

He's a human being, Janvier.

Madras cotton.


Thank you.

I'll wash it for you.

Philippe, the man who k*lled your friend has also k*lled a young woman and I think he might k*ll again.

It's really starting to bite, now, isn't it?

You need to get out of this place.

But you have a crucial piece of information that I know you're scared to part with.

But I need it.

You saw Oscar.

You saw his face.

Help me catch this man, Philippe.

Tell me what he looked like.




I can't.


This is a list of the surviving pre-w*r staff from the St Simon in Nice.

17 names, but two which might be of interest: Nathalie Moncoeur, housekeeper.

She now lives just round the corner.

And Oscar Bonvoison, who's a chauffeur.

Whereabouts unknown.

♪ JACQUES BREL: Quand On N'a Que L'Amour

♪ Quand on n'a que I'amour

♪ A s'offrir en partage

♪ Au jour du grand voyage

♪ Qu'est notre grand amour

♪ Quand on n'a que I'amour...

This way, sir.

♪ Pour qu'eclatent de joie

♪ Chaque heure et chaque jour

♪ Quand on n'a que I'amour

♪ Pour vivre nos promesses

♪ Sans nulle autre richesse...

Nathalie Moncoeur?


My name's Maigret.

Sorry, lover, I can't hear a word.

♪ De merveilles

♪ Et couvrir de soleil...

♪ Police Judiciaire.

I was wondering if I could ask a few questions?

Am I in trouble?

Not in the least.

I wanted to ask you about your time in Nice, before the w*r, working at the hotel St Simon.

That's going back a bit.


I need information about some people who were permanent residents: the Count and Countess von Farnheim.

Oh, yes.

Horrible old man, he was.

Beastly to his wife.

He died, didn't he?

He did.

She ran off somewhere.

She came here, in fact.

To Paris.

Did she?

I never knew that.

What's she been up to?

I also want to ask you about another member of staff.

He was employed as a chauffeur.

Oscar Bonvoison.

That's him.

We're trying to trace Oscar and are having trouble tracking him down.

I was hoping you may be able to give me a physical description of him.

You mean, what did he look like?




Why not, may I ask?

Didn't you notice, love?

I'm blind.

You're thinking, "I don't know how she does it; she must get b*rned all the time." The answer is I do get b*rned now and then, but I put up with it, and I do the job by sonar.



Like they have in submarines.

I tell where things are in the room by how they sound.

It's why I have the wireless on.

The music bounces around, guides me.

So you would have known Oscar by his voice?

I did.

It's funny.

I thought I heard him arguing in the market the other day.

It wasn't him, was it?

Would it worry you if it were?

After what he did to Marie Lefevre, yes.

What did he do to her?

He turned her into a whore.

Every hotel, there's a fella that a man can ask if he wants a woman.

A fella who knows.

At the St Simon it was Oscar.

He was well-placed, you see.

He'd drive the hotel Bentley to the station to collect the guest.

The guest says, "I've heard you can get me a girl." "For the right price," says Oscar, "I can get you a girl like you've never had." God...

He worked Marie into the ground.

Proper bastard, he was.

He must've had a hold over her and the Countess.

They were close, those two.

They left the hotel the same day.

Guest and chambermaid together?

It was Oscar, wasn't it?

He's followed them.

He's here.


I'm going to release Philippe.


I see.

May I ask why?

He's down there refusing - We follow him.

Oscar thinks he's k*lled Philippe.

He'll be surprised to learn he didn't.

He'll want to finish the job off.

Goodness knows what he wants.

But he's watching us and we've got to be very, very careful.

You can't just throw me out.

He'll k*ll me!

He may try, Philippe...

Oh, my God.

.. but he won't succeed, because wherever you go we will go.

You won't see us, Oscar won't see us, but we'll be there.

You know, Countess couldn't talk about him when she was straight.

When she was high...

"The day Oscar finds me," she said, "he'll cut me into tiny bloody shreds!" I'm going to take care of you, Philippe.

I'm going to put my most dependable officer in charge of you.

He will be personally responsible for your safety at all times.


There are places out there that your boy, Lapointe, doesn't know about, innocent little lamb that he is.

There's a particularly salubrious joint in Anvers.

I showed the manageress a picture of Arlette.

She says, "Oh, yes.

Regular guest, but I don't think she was on the game.

She seems to burn through men." So I show her the picture of Fred.

"Recognise him?" "Course," she says, "That's Freddy Alfonsi from the Picratt.

No, no.

The girl never came here with him." OK.

Call me if you need to know more about my, er,...

What was it?



Philippe Martinot is still alive.

Is that code or something?

No, it's valuable information.

Not to me it ain't.

Never heard of him.

Valuable to Oscar.

Who you met with me right here.

Valuable to Oscar and...

if you pass it on, valuable...

to you.

If you're so keen to catch the bastard, what are you doing hanging around here?

Because I have to be here, if, as you say, I'm going to catch the bastard.

Ladies and gentlemen, it's that that time of the evening when...

and let me tell you we have a fabulous collection of...

One and push and one and grind and shaky, shaky, shaky.

One and push and one and grind and no, no.

Watch and learn.


I told you to come, and you did.

This is, er, Jacqueline.



She's going to show you what she can do.

All right.

Five, six, seven, eight.

One, two and one...

OK, OK, that's enough.

We need Rosa on the case.


Come and have a seat, darling, we'll have another bash in a minute.


how goes the thrilling world of crime, eh?



Why did you lie to me, Fred?



What exactly did I lie about?

You said you slept with Arlette, but you didn't.

I'm sure you wanted to, very much.

And she might have complied.

But you didn't want her to comply, did you?

You wanted her to want you.

I loved her.

I loved her so much.

If she'd agreed to come away with me, I would've gone.


Goodbye to all this crap.

Come away with you?

When she'd been at the pastis she'd start to weep.

I didn't know what she was running away from, but Rosa never tells that stuff, and I never ask.

I don't care what she'd done.

I'd have married her.


Don't tell her, Maigret.


What's up?

I think your husband needs you.

And so I do, my angel.

I need you to sprinkle a little bit of stardust.


Come on, sweetheart.

Let's try again.

I promise, I'll work harder.

The stress is just...

I'll do anything now.


give me some.

Mr Maigret, telephone.

OK, right, turn around, sweetheart.

And tits, hips...


He's hooked up with the good Dr Bloch at a cafe in Guy Moquet.

Pretending to be strangers, they're having a right old chat.

'My guess is Philippe's telling him everything's fine. ' He's got a ticket to buy drugs, but Bloch's not having it.

He thinks it's a sting.


There he goes.

Forget Bloch.

Stick as close to Philippe as you possibly can.


You want me to sit on his lap as well?

"Human being, Janvier, human being." And saunter off like you own the place.

Saunter, dear, not march!

I know!

That's the best I can do in the time available.

We have to open.

Every minute we're apart is like a dagger to my heart.

Come on, darling.


Fred's not the man you're looking for, you know.

He's not a k*ller.

I think I'd have known by now if he were.

As it happens, I agree.

But I think you know who k*lled Arlette.

Were you there?

Sorry, I'm finding it hard to keep track of this.

Am I the k*ller now?

Tania warned me to leave you alone.

Look, every one of my girls has something to hide.

They're on the run, they're lost, they're afraid.

The Grasshopper finds them on the street and sends them to me.

Because he's a good and moral person?

The Grasshopper has no morality.

He does it for cash.

I was told you were kind to Arlette, that you are kind to all the girls who pass through your hands.

The girls come, if it's possible, I give them a job.

That's all.

A place of safety.


Where they're molested by your husband.

I can't protect them from everything.

How about the Countess?

I could do nothing for her.

I could see she was lost to the drugs.

When they first arrived in Paris I told Marie, "Whatever binds you to the Countess, let it go." And she did.

She was a good girl.

Just find him, Maigret, for all our sakes.


I'm sorry, Chief.

I've lost him.


Philippe did a runner between Guy Moquet and Brochant.

Janvier says he's heading east.


If you ask me, it's a bluff.

He'll double back on himself to the Bois de Boulogne.

That's his office, that's where he'll feel safe.

I agree.

Redirect everybody.





Let's get to him before Oscar does.

Hey, you, need a friend?

No, no.

To keep you warm?


I can't.

We've missed you.

Oh, look at that.


Club Le Picratt.

Your mother wouldn't like it, but your mother's in bed.

20% discount with this card.

You, sir.

Can we lift your spirits?

We can do wonders.


We've been known to raise the d*ad.

The rent boy?




I've been driving up and down this bloody road for half an hour.


It took me forever to shift him.

I had to jump some horrid little window in a bog.

I told you they gave me permission to score tonight, didn't I?

You do have the dope, yes?

In my bag.

But first we're going to find somewhere quiet, where you can say thank you to me.

Stop that!

Stop that!


You're having a psychotic episode.

It's the morphine, get over it!

Take me home with you, take me home with you.

I can't, I can't, I can't do this any more!

Get out of the bloody car.


I'm telling.

You little shit.


I see you, Doctor, I see you!

It's OK.

It's all right, kid.

It's all right, you're safe.

I've found you now.


' Chief, I think I have something.

'A fella called the switchboard just now.

' Go on.

He says he knows Oscar Bonvoison.

Did he give his name?

'No, but he knows where he lives.


' I'm listening.

Rue Pouchet.

Number 264A.

'That's here in Paris.

Now, it could be a lie but it's worth a punt.

' Shall I come and pick you up?

No, I'll get a cab.


Rue Pouchet.

Fast as you can.

Enjoy the rest of your evening, sir.


Unlucky, Maigret.

We sell to the highest bidder.

It's definitely down here somewhere.

Excuse me.

264, 265.

264A must be down that alley somewhere.

Shall I wait for you?


It's too cold to hang about.

You go home to your family.

It's not my family, Maigret.

The photos came with the cab.



Oh, God, you made me...

Are you coming to bed, or what?

Can I talk to you without you losing your temper?


Let's see.

I can't promise.

I think we have to stop.

Who's the 'we' in that sentence and what are we supposed to stop?

You and me and everything here.

I think we should leave Paris and start again somewhere else.

If you're in trouble, my angel, I'm sorry to hear it, but there is no question of us giving up this club.

So that's one less thing for you to worry about.




Can you take me to Montmartre?


Where's Rosa?

Is she d*ad?


She will be in a minute, though, because I'm going to k*ll her and you're going to watch me do it.

Then I k*ll myself.

And you watch that, too.


Oh, poor Maigret, running about after, er, whatshisname, the rent boy.

That was a waste of time, wasn't it?

Stop moving!

I'd just like to get a few things straight.

I'd like to talk about Marie.

She turned up at the Hotel St Simon, looking for work.

Just a child.

She was taken on as chambermaid on the tenth floor.

Then she saw at first hand the Count's cruelty to his wife.


And then, one day, the Countess cracked and she threw the Count over the balcony.


She got him halfway over, but he fought back, see?

She needed help.

From Marie.

Together, they pitched the old bastard over the rail.

And you saw them both do it.

I'm disappointed.

I thought I was in pursuit of a fascinatingly complex, sexually deranged psychopath, when, in fact, you're just a blackmailer.


Also a pimp.

Let's not forget that.

No, let's not forget that.

Marie serviced your clients and the Countess paid you money so that you'd keep quiet and when the money ran out, she fled to Paris, taking Marie with her.

She gave Marie a new name, new identity.

Hid her from me.

Didn't you?

Rosa was at Marie's flat, wasn't she?

You bitch.

Protecting her to the end.

And you attacked her, too.

Be fair.

She's just stuck a knife in me.

Even you might have lost your rag.

You've got a bit of a problem with temper, Oscar.

I've also got a problem with septicaemia, but let's not quibble.

I've worked so bloody hard, Maigret.

By rights, my last few years should've been comfortable.

You turned a damaged child into a prost*tute so that you could be comfortable?

You are beyond contempt.

Beyond redemption.

Beyond mercy.

Why didn't you come to me after Oscar k*lled Arlette?

Because you'd have found out about all the others.

The other women whose lives you saved?

Do you think I'd pursue them after all they've suffered.

I wouldn't do that.

I wanted to...

to go on helping people like that.

People like me.

Like Arlette.

It's the only meaningful thing I've ever done.

Arlette wouldn't have gone back to Oscar, would she?


Nothing would have made her go back.

Because of you.

That's why he k*lled her.

You're up.

Do you want to talk to me about it?

Not immediately.

Things have been a bit hectic.

One pipe, and I'll come to bed.

What are these?

These are my letters.

I was angry, but I wasn't a fool.

And I can't think of anything more precious to put in there.
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