I've got keys.
I've spoken to the maire
about your building works.
Again?
And I've instructed my lawyers
to have it stopped.
Well, if you want to waste
your money, madam, feel free.
It's intolerable, it has to stop.
The dust, the noise, all of it,
it's ill*gal.
The planning permission's
all in order.
There's nothing
ill*gal about any of it.
We don't want a boutique
hotel next door to us.
Guess what? I don't want you next
door to me, but here we are.
So, let's live and let live.
You're a criminal.
You're doing bad things in there.
I've seen you.
For God's sake, you're insane.
Well, I shall have you arrested.
I know people in the police.
You know what?
You are an evil, old b*tch.
And you are wearing
your bloody slippers.
Ooh.
Valere?
'Yes?'
I can't find my keys.
Yes, I know you're my mother,
but I'm actually quite busy.
Let's run through that again.
You bought a pair of shoes yesterday
and now you can't find them.
I'm in Aix and you're in Paris.
What is it that you want me to do?
Have we had supper yet?
It's three o'clock in the afternoon.
Whose are these?
So where are the lamb chops?
Have you taken someone else's
shopping again?
Maybe she just wanted an excuse
to talk to you.
My mother is not some lonely
old bat with a cat,
she was having c*ck at the Ritz
two days ago.
She's in a bridge club.
She's got a mind like a steel trap.
Rusting, but still lethal.
When are you gonna forgive her?
She used to lock...
'Lock you in a cupboard. I know.'
'Amongst many other things.'
But, like, 50 years ago.
You can talk!
Now it's a competition
about who's got the worst mother.
At least yours didn't make you sing
the Internationale as a party piece
when you were four.
Anyway, I'm off to have a coffee
with someone I haven't seen
for nearly 30 years.
'I'll let you know what transpires.'
OK.
'Bye.'
Delphine?
Delphine?
Are you OK?
I'm fine.
It's just period pains.
Do you need anything?
I've got some paracetamol.
No.
I'll be out in a minute.
Hi, it's me.
Can you call me when you're free?
I got a text.
Something a bit weird's
just happened.
Marine!
Max.
Wow!
Oh.
Oh, my God. You look...
You look exactly the same.
What did you think I'd look like?
Well, I mean, look at me.
I used to have hair!
Please.
Yeah, so we're a team
of six architects.
I'm kind of the lead.
Construction
starts in a couple of months.
It looks amazing.
Is this why you've moved back?
Yeah. I'm still
looking for somewhere to live.
Anyway, you ever fancied
remarrying again?
Not really.
We talk about it occasionally.
Oh, so there's a "we", is there?
Yeah, we're just not married.
What about you?
Yeah, I've done it twice.
For my sins.
Almost done it thrice,
but, er... came to my senses.
Needy women.
Bane of my life.
Sorry, sorry.
Not all women, obviously.
Just the ones attracted to me.
They hid it so well at the start,
you know?
Come in.
Marie-France?
Won't be long!
Hey! She's still doing it.
Screaming at me in the street,
threatening me with lawyers.
Just for the record,
if she does slap a writ on me,
I'll slap one right back at her
for harassment.
It's just hot air.
I'm sorry. Ignore it.
She's driving me insane!
Tell me about it!
Thanks for letting me know.
Yeah, so, erm, let's...
Thank you.
Let's do this again sometime.
Sure.
When I get an apartment,
come over for a drink.
Bring Arno.
Antoine.
Antoine.
I bet he's got hair.
He has.
Yeah.
Lots.
Oh, God, I was so freaked out
when I got that text.
What does she mean?
No, I know, I know,
but why would she say those things?
She's crazy, right?
She's not gonna start stalking me
now, is she?
I know.
I love you too.
I'll see you later.
Ta-dah!
Brilliant.
You managed to get a cake.
It was so expensive,
I had to sell my flat.
How'd you get on with that friend
you haven't seen for years?
Ever-so-slightly weird.
Mind you, I didn't really know him
that well in the first place.
Maybe he was always weird.
He was just part of the group
I used to hang out with.
We'd better go.
Oh. We can't have her
getting there first.
Set it here.
She's coming.
She's here. Quick, quick.
Happy birthday!
Am I blowing these out?
Yes.
No Christophe?
No, he's, erm...
He couldn't make it.
Oh.
That's a shame.
That's all right.
Is Sylvie here?
She'll be here.
Timekeeping isn't her strong point,
as you know.
It's not!
Hello, everyone.
Oh, hello.
Bonsoir.
I can't stay long, Judge.
Oh, places to go, people to see,
trains to catch.
Actually, I have a date.
Ooh!
Ha-ha!
Anyone we know?
Oh, I very much doubt it.
She's, erm...
Anyway, I...
..I just wanted to put in an
appearance, Helene.
We're thrilled you could make it.
Thank you.
And completely awash with champagne!
Sante!
Sante! Sante!
Happy birthday, Helene!
My wife, yes.
I-I was away on business last night.
I got back this morning
around eight o'clock.
And there was no sign of her.
She's 75.
And she's got memory problems.
I'm just worried
something's happened to her.
Oh...
Hello.
'Judge Verlaque.
Commissioner Roussel.
'I'm sorry, did I wake you?'
Not at all.
I've just got back from a 10k run.
'Great, so you're up and about.
'We have a suspicious death
on our hands.'
Perhaps you could call
Helene, Judge.
She's over at the scene.
I'm cycling up Mont Sainte-Victoire.
'Right.'
Cycling up Mont Sainte-Victoire.
How is that humanly possible
after the amount of champagne
we drank last night?
I'd be lucky to make it
to the breakfast table.
That's age for you.
What's going on?
I'm about to find out.
The victim has been
identified as Delphine Jourdain. 27.
They think she's been strangled.
A work colleague
found her this morning.
The apartment above is empty,
so no-one seems to have seen
or heard anything.
We have her phone.
There's a laptop charger
plugged into the wall,
but no sign of a laptop.
Who's the work colleague?
Sebastien Lapierre.
He's the one out the front crying.
Says he called round to check on her
because she'd left the office
not feeling well yesterday.
Shall we go in?
I leave you to it.
I'm off to chat
with Monsieur Lapierre.
I knew she wasn't
feeling well yesterday,
so I called her a couple of times,
but it went straight to voicemail.
The calls will be on her phone, yes?
I called the landline.
Why?
Sorry?
I thought young people
never used landlines.
Or is it suddenly all the rage?
She had one, so I just...
That was just the one I called.
OK.
Do you know if she had a laptop?
Why?
Did she?
Probably, I don't know.
So she didn't answer your calls,
and you were worried about her.
Yeah.
She's a mate, so when I went out
for a run this morning
I took a detour past her apartment.
Buzzed, but there was no answer.
But I could hear music playing,
like the radio or something,
so I went round the back.
And the door was open.
What, wide open?
No, no, I mean, it wasn't locked.
So I went in and called her name.
And then I just...
That's when I found her.
You went straight to the bedroom?
I looked in the living room first.
So, kind of, that's when I knew
something was wrong.
So, if she knew her k*ller,
and was expecting him or her...
I wonder what
they were looking for in her bag.
And were they disturbed?
No laptop.
Not in here.
That guy outside, Lapierre,
was he boyfriend-upset, or..?
I-just-found-someone-I-know-dead
upset?
Of course, it could be
I'm-crying-because-I-know-I-did-it
upset.
Hm...
Anything else you can tell me?
Anything at all?
There was a really strong
smell of perfume or something.
Did you notice it?
We did.
Did Delphine have a boyfriend?
I know she was engaged.
She was showing
the ring off in the office.
I don't know who the guy was though.
She never mentioned his name?
No.
So, you don't know the name
of her fiance,
you don't know if she had a laptop.
Thought you were mates.
We...
No, it was more like...
We weren't close, we just kind of
looked out for each other.
Jesus Christ,
I'm in a state of shock.
When can I go home?
She never talked about this fiance?
Never mentioned problems
or arguments?
A woman came into the bank
and left a letter for her.
When?
Last week. Morganne,
she works on the front desk.
She told me a woman handed it to her
and said,
"Can you give this to Delphine?"
Did she think that was odd?
I guess.
Did she describe this woman?
Just a woman.
That's all she said.
Poor, poor girl.
This time yesterday she was
probably planning her weekend.
That's not the smell
of cheap perfume.
You could be right.
How'd you know it's expensive?
I did learn the odd
thing from my mother. Hm.
A gift, perhaps?
You certainly can't buy that
round here.
Engagement ring.
I don't think it's real.
What?
The ring.
I don't either.
Firstly, it's enormous.
And if it was real...
It'd be worth more than her
apartment.
Secondly, Thibault once bought me
one just like that.
Made of cubic zirconium.
I mean,
I only found that out afterwards.
Actually, it wasn't the fakery
that upset me,
it was the fact that he thought
I was the sort of woman
who'd want a diamond ring.
She left around four
to go to a doctor's appointment.
Women's problems, she said.
So, nothing serious?
Delphine was very sweet,
but she was a bit
of a hypochondriac.
Her mother died last year.
It affected her very badly.
How well did you know her?
I was her boss.
I didn't have that much to do
with her outside the office.
But you had something
to do with her?
Well...
Obviously, I ran into her
occasionally.
Eguilles isn't Paris,
it's hard to avoid people.
Erm...
We may have had a coffee
a couple of times.
Are you married, Monsieur Lachella?
Why are you...?
Are you saying you think I...?
I'm just asking if you're married.
I'm divorced.
Where were you last night?
Just routine questions,
Monsieur Lachella.
I'm sure you understand.
Well, I was, er... I was at home.
Alone?
Yeah, I was just... watching TV.
What did you watch?
Some American documentary.
I can't remember the name of it.
Can you remember what it was about?
Serial K*llers.
It's me. Get back to me ASAP, OK?
It's, erm...
Just call me back, OK?
Watching documentaries
about serial K*llers
doesn't mean
you want to emulate them.
Correct.
Otherwise, we'd have weekly
bloodbaths in every postcode.
Back to Delphine.
What do you know about her fiance?
Nothing at all.
I don't think anyone here met him.
You're talking to Elodie Liotta
next, aren't you?
She knew Delphine much
better than I did.
A woman left a note for Delphine at
the front desk earlier in the week.
Do you know anything about that?
Erm, no, I don't think anyone
mentioned anything to me.
That's all for the moment,
Monsieur Lachella.
Jittery or what?
Madam.
I suddenly remembered something.
OK.
Can I lift this?
Hang on.
Yeah?
I'm done.
Yes!
This is where my mother used
to leave hers when she went out.
Burglars still found it, obviously.
So she was in a cubicle in the
ladies', and you heard her say,
"Something weird has just happened."
I think she said
she'd just got a text.
I can't remember the precise words.
Any idea what
she may have been referring to?
She did confide in me sometimes,
but no.
What sort of things
did she confide?
Her mum left her an apartment
in Aix.
There was a whole heap
of legal stuff to deal with.
Was this apartment worth much?
I doubt it.
I don't think it was very big.
But it was in Aix, so who knows?
Anyway, it stressed her out.
She was always seeing doctors.
I think it was psychosomatic.
And then, out of the blue,
she met a man who was
going through a divorce.
A couple of weeks ago,
she turned up with an
engagement ring the size of Pluto.
Did you get the impression this
was the man on the phone?
Could have been him. Yeah.
So who was he?
No idea.
I've never met him.
She just told me that they
called each other Mimi and Rodolfo.
Cos when they first met
she had a hacking cough,
and he said she sounded
like Mimi from La Boheme.
She thought it was romantic.
She was quite naive, I think.
I told her, "You do know Mimi
dies in the end, don't you?"
God.
I wish I'd never said that now.
Did you notice
she seemed worried recently?
There were problems
with the boyfriend's divorce.
She said it had turned acrimonious.
The ex-wife was suddenly
being a nightmare.
What did you make of that?
That's what they all say,
don't they?
That's what my ex-husband
told his girlfriend about me.
So, it rang alarm bells?
Not alarm bells, but...
Well, here's the thing.
The ring wasn't real.
I knew that as soon I saw it.
What kind of guy buys his girlfriend
a fake diamond?
Indeed.
Did she mention a woman dropping
a letter off for her
earlier in the week,
here at the bank?
Do you know who her doctor is?
We know she had
an appointment yesterday.
I think she goes to the new guy.
Well, that's what we call him.
He's been here about three years -
Doctor Vannier.
Just off the main square.
One last question.
Delphine was close to
Sebastien Lapierre. Is that right?
Well, I don't know about that.
They knew each other,
but I'm not sure they were close.
So, Sherlock, you found the laptop.
Under the cushion.
Exactly where my mother
used to hide hers.
She seemed to think the burglars
wouldn't look there.
So Delphine hid hers there
before she went to work, or...?
Or to hide it
from someone in particular.
Her k*ller? And when she arrives
home, she lights candles,
opens champagne...
Hides the laptop.
Before the boyfriend gets there.
Because... I don't know,
she doesn't want him to see
her search history?
Let's assume this boyfriend
is the nameless fiance.
Who no-one's ever met,
which is odd in itself.
And if it was him
who visited her last night...
It has to be, otherwise surely
he would have turned up by now,
unless he's away somewhere.
If it isn't him,
who was seeing her last night?
She doesn't seem the type
to have multiple lovers.
Or am I making a massive assumption?
No, you're making
a reasonable assumption,
although people are usually
more than meets the eye.
So maybe we shouldn't assume.
So, we have at least one suspect.
A fiance, who doesn't have a name
and nobody knows what he looks like.
He's our number one priority.
We have to find him.
Oh.
Roussel.
Francois.
Antoine's driving.
Hang on, I'll put you on speaker.
How you getting on, Judge?
'Oh, we're back in Aix.
'We've arrested someone.
We had a trial.
'And he's got 30 years.
'Pretty good morning's work,
all in all.'
Excellent.
Because we've got another one.
'Another what?'
m*rder.
'Well, we certainly have
another body.'
Domaine Chardenerais.
Do you know it?
It's about 15km away.
The police are there now
and Helene's on her way.
The farmer found her
about an hour ago.
He said he saw this
bundle on the ground.
But his brain wouldn't
compute what it was at first.
Had he ever seen her before?
No.
She's a complete stranger.
Would many people know their way
around these vineyards?
A few locals, he said,
and his workers.
But they haven't started
the harvest,
so not many of them
around at the moment.
Where does this road lead to?
Nowhere.
It just peters out.
What about walkers,
that sort of thing?
Occasionally.
It's a bit off the beaten track.
He does a guided tour of the domaine
in the summer months,
but it's mostly tourists.
So unless we're looking
for a middle-aged Belgian couple
in hiking sandals
and factor 50 sunscreen...
Does he have a record of people
who've booked in the past?
He's emailing it to me.
Excuse me.
Had to be someone who knew
the area intimately.
Wouldn't you say?
You wouldn't stumble upon it
accidentally.
Well, maybe you would if you were
driving around
desperately looking
for a secluded spot.
She's been shot in the shoulder,
but they can't be certain
it's what k*lled her.
No-one heard anything.
Marie-France D'Arras.
Husband Valere reported her
missing earlier this morning.
Are you OK?
I'm in deep trouble.
Oh. Ssh!
Everything's OK.
Helene, you deal
with Valere D'Arras.
And get someone to check
Delphine's apartment
for the letter that was left
to the bank.
I'll have them check
her workplace too.
Marine and I will concentrate
on Delphine.
Any progress on her fiance?
Nothing.
Maybe he's out of the country.
He's certainly proving
difficult to trace.
Not a good look
after your partner's being k*lled.
He may have called her phone,
but it's switched off
and they haven't got into yet.
How long do they think it will take?
It could be 24 hours,
could be months,
so don't get excited just yet.
What about the young woman
at the bank who took the letter?
She says the woman who
dropped it off was North African
and was about 45.
Although the girl herself is 22.
So, you know for her,
anyone over 30 looks the same.
One foot in a care home.
Had she ever met her before?
She says not.
There'll be CCTV.
She'll be on it somewhere.
And who last saw Delphine?
Was it her doctor?
Doctor Vannier.
I'll call him and get back to you.
Roussel needs a catch up.
Two murders
in the space of 24 hours.
Any links, do you think?
Not as yet.
Oh, that's a relief.
All we need is a serial k*ller
on our hands.
Isn't it three murders
before you're a serial k*ller?
Is it?
Yes.
What we currently have
is two murders, Francois.
Let's not go full tabloid just yet.
First victim, a woman of 27,
strangled in her own home.
Presumably,
we're looking at the partner.
Once we've identified who that is.
We have her phone and her laptop.
He hasn't come forward?
Not yet, no.
We spoke to her boss.
I'd say he's not being
entirely truthful.
And the colleague who found her.
Any chance it was him?
We're not ruling him out.
The second victim was 75, married,
in the early stages of Alzheimer's.
As you know,
she was found shot in a vineyard.
Husband's alibi? He claims he spent
the night in Marseille.
He's an accountant.
He was seeing clients.
Well, there's your man right there.
Wife's losing her marbles.
Can't cope. Shoots her.
What's your take, Marine?
Well, that's certainly one scenario.
And what are the others?
It's much too early to tell.
We don't even know
the cause of death yet. Ah.
Well...
Do you need me for anything else?
I think that's covered everything.
You ever cycled up
Mont Sainte-Victoire, Judge?
Do I look like I've ever
cycled up Mont Sainte-Victoire?
I think you'd enjoy it.
I really, really wouldn't.
It's very good for the heart.
Keep me up to speed
on developments, Helene.
I just had a vision of you in Lycra.
And now you wish you hadn't?
Correct.
If you had a friend who didn't
pick up a couple of times,
would you go round and see
if they were OK?
Only if they were 90.
So it's odd, don't you think,
that Sebastien Lapierre
did just that?
Delphine had period pains.
It's not like she'd broken her leg.
Maybe her doctor's about to tell us
something very different.
Anyway, we'll have a quick chat
with him,
and then, I'm rather hoping
a glass of rose
and a view of the countryside.
Just to take the edge
off the horror.
Two women k*lled the same evening
within 10km of each other.
It's Marie-France
who is the most puzzling.
Only because we're so
used to young women
being m*rder*d in their own homes.
I guess so, sadly.
It's about diminution of power.
Sorry?
This sort of male violence.
It happens when someone feels
the opposite of powerful.
Feels power slipping,
fears losing face.
Is it always a he?
No.
But men tend to be the ones
who feel entitled to power,
and any threat to it, keenly.
Even if it's imaginary.
So, he feels challenged.
He perceives some weakness or flaw,
or stupidity has been revealed.
Or maybe she's discovered
he's done something bad.
Could it be psychological?
She discovers he's not the man
she thought he was.
Yes, you're right.
A mask slips.
He feels revealed.
And then he begins frantically
clawing back some supremacy.
Would the same apply
to Marie-France's k*ller, too?
Probably.
Being found out, being exposed.
Losing face.
Possible humiliation.
Usually the catalyst.
"I'm in Aix, fancy a coffee? Max."
My, he's keen.
"I'm out of Aix, working."
"Anywhere near Marseille?
I could trawl back on my way home."
Bloody hell.
I'm turning my phone off.
If he turns up, I'm afraid I'll
have to challenge him to a duel.
He's younger than you.
You'd end up in hospital.
The last time I saw her
was yesterday afternoon.
She was getting on a bus
round the corner.
I can't think why
she would go to a vineyard.
Which bus was it?
Oh, she put those everywhere
so she didn't forget things.
Do you mind if I...?
No, go ahead.
Anyway, I-I don't know
which bus it was.
I was in the car
on my way to Marseille.
She used to ride the buses
around Aix all the time.
She liked looking at the scenery.
Thought she was safe there.
Your wife had dementia.
Is that right?
Very early stages.
Did she have a carer?
It wasn't that bad.
Still, you went to Marseille
on business
and didn't come back until next day.
You reported her missing at 9:30.
You arrived home at 8am.
Why'd you wait so long?
I thought maybe she'd gone shopping.
Those things,
they're mostly just nonsense.
It's more about the inside of her
head than reality, you know?
When I got back, I realised that she
hadn't taken her phone with her.
And she has type 1 diabetes.
She needed to take her insulin.
Did she have it with her?
Always.
I made sure.
Sometimes she took it
a bit late though.
Beautiful house, Doctor Vannier.
Yeah.
My wife and I were looking
for somewhere in Eguilles,
then we fell in love with this.
Half-built!
The guy couldn't
afford to finish it.
Word of advice -
it always takes longer
than you think.
Six more months should do it.
I think it might be getting to her.
She's just escaped to London
with a mate.
Anyway.
I'm sorry we're meeting
in such awful circumstances.
Indeed.
You told Deputy Commissioner Paulik
you could tell us
a little about Delphine Jourdain.
Yes.
A few facts,
and a few ideas I've formed
from things she mentioned.
Monsieur D'Arras,
do you know anyone who may have
wanted to harm your wife?
The guy next door.
No, I'm joking.
OK.
Sorry.
No...
She keeps reporting him to the maire
for flouting building permission.
Is he?
No.
She was just...
Her illness, it made her...
I-I mean...
She claimed he was digging a grave
in his back garden.
She said she could see it
from her window.
I couldn't see a thing myself.
I knew there was digging,
but, you know,
he's doing major building works.
When you go to Marseille
on business,
do you always stay overnight?
Usually.
I-I like to have a few beers
and a stroll around the old port.
Try different hotels.
Ever take your wife with you?
No.
OK.
I'll need the name of the hotel
you stayed in,
and your check-in time.
Yes. Sure.
Sebastien.
It's after four.
You need to wake up now.
You need to tell me
what's going on, Sebastien.
I don't know what you want.
I need you to do something for me.
Will you?
Please, Elodie?
Delphine was a patient for, I don't
know, a couple of years maybe.
Your colleague asked me
if she had an appointment yesterday.
She didn't with me or anyone else
at the surgery. I checked.
Why would she lie about it,
do you think?
She wanted an excuse to leave early.
We've all done it.
Anyway, I started seeing a lot
of her after her mother died.
She wanted antidepressants,
I suggested a grief counsellor.
Did she get one?
She said it wasn't her thing.
After that, she turned up regularly
with various, fairly vague symptoms.
I got the impression she was lonely.
Then, one day,
she told me she was being stalked
by someone she'd been on
a couple of dates with.
Bombarding her with texts.
Turning up at her apartment
in the middle of the night.
I told her to go to the police,
but she seemed reluctant.
Did she mention a name?
No.
And then, I began to think, well...
What?
That maybe she had a crush on me.
She was turning up so often,
and it's not unusual with patients
and doctors.
Then, one day, she stopped coming.
And three or four months ago
she pitched up transformed.
Radiant.
She told me she'd met someone
and he'd asked her to marry him.
And that was probably the last time
I saw her.
What she still being stalked,
do you know?
She didn't say.
But given what's happened...
Indeed.
Did she mention a Rodolfo?
No. Why?
It's just something that came up.
Regarding the stalker -
this is just a feeling I got,
and it's quite possibly
way off the mark.
But given the way
she spoke about it,
and her reluctance to
go to the police,
well, I wondered if it was someone
she worked with.
Did she ever mention anyone at work?
She did say something about her
boss once.
Kamel Lachella.
I don't remember the name.
She said he creeped her out.
Excuse me.
I'm afraid we're gonna have
to cut this short, doctor.
Everything OK?
Thank you for your help.
We'll get back to you.
What is it?
They got into Delphine's phone.
Dozens of stalky messages.
Oh, and a d*ck pic.
Oh! From?
Sebastien Lapierre.
You were concerned about Delphine
because she wasn't answering
your calls?
Yes.
Of course, she was in the habit
of not answering your calls,
wasn't she?
You'd called or texted her,
how many times was it?
Er...
Er...
238.
What made you think she might
respond on this particular occasion?
Those messages, they're...
stupid.
I was just messing about, you know?
Really?
There are several texts on here
from Delphine
asking you to leave her alone.
Oh, and this,
from you in response.
An erect p*nis.
Yours, I presume.
Everyone does that.
But it's not what
a reasonable person would send,
unsolicited, is it,
to someone who's repeatedly said,
literally,
"Do not contact me again"?
Did you think, in some bizarre way,
it might win her over,
or was it simply to express
your profound contempt
for her wishes?
Is that why you called her landline
on the morning you found her?
Because you knew
if she saw your number on her mobile
she wouldn't pick up.
There's another phone.
I'm sorry?
She had another phone.
After I found her, I saw it
on the floor in the kitchen.
Like someone had dropped it.
I thought it was that one.
I didn't want anyone to...
I knew it had those messages
on it, so...
That's why I took it.
So, a friend is brutally m*rder*d,
your first thought is,
"I must get rid of her phone."
An unusual response,
wouldn't you agree?
No, I just knew that
if the police found it...
Look, the phone I picked up,
I only glanced at it.
How did you get into it?
These ridiculous PIN numbers.
1, 2, 3, 4.
That's what she used.
I changed it for her
to her father's birthday.
She must have used the same PIN
for both of them.
So, you glanced at the phone, and?
It looks like she used it
for just one person.
Someone who just
signed themselves "R".
I don't know who that is.
Where is this other phone?
I gave it to Elodie Liotta.
She was gonna drop it off
at the police station
and say she found it in the street.
Why would she agreed to do that?
She's in love with me.
So, Marie-France told you
she was speaking to her lawyers.
To be fair, she would say
that sort of thing all the time.
Never bothered with hello.
Just straight in with a writ.
We know she was threatening to send
people round
to check out your back garden.
She wasn't in her right mind.
I was literally
dealing with a maniac.
But it would have been handy
to have her out of the way, no?
Are you kidding me?
Do you seriously think
I would k*ll a crazy old lady
over planning permission?
People have k*lled for less,
Monsieur Leridon.
Don't you have an office to go to?
Didier.
My office is now my apartment.
And the woman upstairs is doing an
exercise class to '80s disco music.
Oh, I love '80s disco.
Tell me to go if you're busy.
You know the woman who was found
dead in the vineyard, don't you?
My friend who lives
next door knows her.
She was losing her mind, wasn't she?
OK, so you know where she lives.
Mm.
If you turn left and left again
there's a bus stop.
Do you know which buses stop there?
Darling, as a non-driver, the bus
timetables are engraved on my heart.
I know, that's why I asked you.
Let me think. Er...
OK, I know which street you mean.
Yep. There are only two
that stop there.
One does a, kind of,
circuit of the old town,
and the other goes all the way
out to Eguilles.
Eguilles?
Yeah.
Where that poor girl was m*rder*d.
Oh, my God!
Are you thinking that her k*ller
took the bus there?
No, not quite.
What, then? What?
I'm really sorry, I have to go.
The guy who drives the Eguilles bus
is called Pascale Locatelli.
How on earth do you know that?
I know all the bus drivers.
I use them all the time.
The buses, not the drivers.
Although Pascale is a mate.
Do you have his number?
So Sebastien and I,
I had a thing with him.
He's ten years younger than me,
and really immature.
The whole thing was ridiculous.
He caught me at a weak moment,
but it ended.
He ended it.
Were you OK with that?
No, not really.
I thought I was stronger than that.
But my divorce and everything...
And then he saw Delphine
a few times.
And you were jealous?
No.
Yes, a bit.
Why did you agree to take
that phone for him?
For all the reasons
that I just said. I was weak.
I'm not proud of it, OK?
You were impeding a m*rder inquiry.
I know.
I'm so sorry.
Have you looked at the phone?
No, I was too afraid to.
I just wanted to take it
to the police and move on.
But you didn't take it
to the police.
No.
I started panicking.
Where was I going to say
that I'd found it?
What if they knew that I was lying?
Were Sebastien's fingerprints
all over it?
I was...
I am a bit frightened of him.
Do you think he k*lled her?
I don't know.
The phone he gave me,
he said that all the messages on it
were from one person.
The fiance, probably.
Do you know who he is yet?
We don't.
No.
Ladies and gentlemen, as you know,
27-year-old Delphine Jourdain
was m*rder*d...
..was brutally m*rder*d in her home
in Eguilles on Friday evening.
'Currently we've been unable to
identify the fiance.
'But if anyone knows who he is,
or knows his whereabouts,
'or indeed, if he's watching
this himself,
'it's vital you get in touch.'
Well, at least he wasn't wearing
his kilt.
Now that would have got
people's attention.
Right. So, where are we?
Why don't you get a whiteboard?
Because I can't stand the noise
Sharpies make on it.
Sets my teeth on edge.
Let's assume he k*lled her.
Because otherwise,
where the hell is he?
How does someone leave
no trace of their existence?
If Lapierre's telling the truth,
we should find the fiance
on the second phone.
The letter - any sign of it?
It's not in her apartment.
They've been through everything,
including the rubbish.
Have they checked the office?
This is really important, Helene.
We're going through everything.
And we have CCTV of the woman
who dropped it off.
They're sending it over now.
Marie-France was on the 355
to Eguilles on Friday afternoon.
I've just spoken to the driver.
He remembers her
because she was still on it
when they got to the depot.
He had to tell her to get off.
She said she was going
to visit her sister.
Wow. So both victims
were in Eguilles. Yeah.
Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you.
How did you get in?
What did they say about me?
Please?
Nothing. They didn't say anything.
Why are you doing this to me?
Honestly, I've no idea
what you're talking about.
What do I do wrong?
Every woman I meet, every single
one, you all turn on me.
And I'm a good person.
I deserve better.
I deserve respect!
Seb, stop it!
Take your stuff and get out.
Don't call me again.
Monsieur D'Arras,
we just spoke to the hotel
you stayed in in Marseille.
'You didn't check in until 9:30.
And you weren't alone.'
OK.
Fine.
Probably got CCTV of it, have they?
Were you in a sexual relationship
with this person?
Look...
I'm ten years younger than my wife,
and it was...
With her illness,
you know, it was so hard.
And...
OK.
I fell in love.
He's married too.
'We were very discreet.
We never wanted to rock the boat.'
And I can assure you,
murdering our wives
was never part of our plan.
'I see.'
Would your wife have any reason
to go to Eguilles yesterday?
So what did he say?
Well, firstly,
on the night of his wife's death,
for sure he was staying
at a hotel in Marseille.
But with his male lover.
OK. People are endlessly
fascinating, aren't they?
Secondly, he doesn't know why
she'd be in Eguilles.
She does have a sister,
named Philomene.
In Eguilles?
They did live in Eguilles briefly,
as children.
So maybe she was confused
and thought they still did.
Well, we now know for certain
she was there.
Well, next thing we know,
she's dead in a vineyard 10km away.
OK, tomorrow we have our work
cut out.
You think Leridon, the architect,
may be hiding something?
I can't make my mind up about him.
Fine, we'll keep him in mind and
make an appointment with the sister.
Marine and I will have a word
with her.
OK. I'm sorry.
I'm dead on my feet.
I need to crawl into bed.
Don't worry,
my mother's about to turn up.
Make your escape
while you still can.
OK. See you.
Florence?
I see Helene's trying to avoid me.
We're just about to order.
Would you like to see the menu?
It hasn't changed in 15 years.
I'll have whatever you're having.
So, you wanted to know about
Marie-France's background.
Well, we thought, Florence,
given your extensive,
not to say intimate,
knowledge of Aix
and its inhabitants...
I could give you the lowdown?
Mm.
Well, her family, at least, are
completely repellent in every way.
Get off the fence, Florence.
Personally, I'd call them criminals.
As far as I know, he, Valere,
is ten years younger than her.
Not that you'd know to look at him.
Married her for her money probably.
It certainly can't have been
for her personality.
Hers were a phenomenally
wealthy family.
Once owned that entire house
where she now just has an apartment
the size of a football pitch,
poor love.
And they were Nazis.
What, in the w*r?
Well, obviously in the w*r, Antoine.
They were collaborators
who somehow got off,
the way the rich always do.
But the great scandal, which I'm
surprised you never heard about,
Marine, is that her
older half-sister Philomene
was fathered by a German officer
during the occupation.
So they were rich, corrupt,
and fascist.
Other than that,
you can't fault them.
I can't imagine anybody
wanting to k*ll her
because her family were Nazis,
can you?
It went on over 80 years ago.
We'll talk to the sister tomorrow.
Maybe she can enlighten us.
Mm.
I think she went to Eguilles
because, like you said,
she thought she still lived there.
Here's another unconnected thought.
A high percentage of stalky men
who obsess over a particular woman
go on to commit violence
against her.
They can't deal with the rejection.
Lapierre.
Helene.
'Forensics seem to be on
a winning streak.
'They got into Delphine's laptop.
And the phone Lapierre found.'
Wouldn't take a genius, would it?
Seeing as they had the password.
'Slightly trickier to find
the deleted stuff, smart arse.
'How soon can you meet me?'
OK, here's what they've dug up.
The last thing she looked at
on her laptop was this.
Thanks, Bertille.
Duvalier Clinic.
What is this place?
It's a clinic that
specialises in cosmetic surgery.
She was thinking of having
work done?
She was only 27.
It's probably why she hid it.
She didn't want the boyfriend
to know.
She wasn't going local,
that's for sure.
I wonder if she mentioned it
to her doctor.
Though in the broader
scheme of things,
what it has to do with her death,
God knows.
What did they find on the phone?
You know the guy next
door to Marie-France, don't you?
Philippe Leridon.
He's doing a boutique hotel.
He says she's a total nightmare.
Er, was.
She told her husband he was digging
a grave in his back garden.
Oh, my God!
She's insane.
You know what this is about,
don't you? Obviously not.
He wasn't digging a grave.
Obviously.
He was digging a wine cellar.
And this is what they uncovered.
Oh, my God!
That's amazing. Is it a temple?
No idea. He's sent me loads more,
if you want to see them.
Anyway, he can't tell the maire,
they'll close him down
and bring in the archaeologists.
He's already way behind schedule.
Bloody Marie-France, God rest her,
kept threatening to send
people round to investigate.
She nearly scuppered
the entire project.
And fortunately for Philippe,
she died.
Hi, Marine.
Max.
I'm not interrupting anything, am I?
No, you're good.
I'm just finishing my coffee.
Didier, this is Max Audigier.
It all looks great.
Fabulous views over Marseille.
Lovely. I really have to go, Max.
Well, Antoine is a very lucky man.
That's all I can say.
I should have married you
when I had the chance.
When was that?
We hardly knew each other.
Of course we did.
Don't you remember?
No.
I always had a thing about you,
you know that.
Well, Antoine won.
Should things ever go pear-shaped,
then you've got my number.
It won't be going pear-shaped.
How'd you know about that?
Hm?
Why won't he marry you?
What?
Oh, come on.
Every woman wants a ring
on her finger.
Well, we obviously know
very different women.
Good luck in your new apartment.
You're even more gorgeous
when you're angry.
If you ever contact me again
I'll have you arrested.
Lapierre was almost right
about the second phone.
She only used it to make
and receive calls from two numbers.
The first, all
the messages are short and smoochy.
You know, "Love you, miss you.
"It's all going to work out.
See you later."
The other was just one message,
which Delphine deleted.
And they just retrieved it.
Saying?
"Sorry, but you didn't
respond to my letter."
The letter that was dropped
to the bank. Got it in one.
"Please, for your own good,
check out his last job.
"I'm not saying this to hurt you,
"I'm saying it to save you going
through what I've been through.
"He is not the man you think he is.
"I should know. We were never
in the process of divorcing.
"He lied about that.
"I just found out we were never
legally married in the first place,
"because he's still married
to someone else."
Received the day of her m*rder.
OK.
At four o'clock this morning,
when I couldn't sleep,
I was noodling
around on the computer.
And I found this email about
Kamel Lachella - Delphine's boss.
I had asked his bank
for info on him.
It said he lost his last job in Nice
when he covered up a minor fraud
committed by a young woman
on his staff.
They were pretty cagey
about the details,
but it sounds very much
like sexual blackmail.
He was married at the time.
Mr Lachella, do you want to tell me
about your last job...
in Nice?
I knew you'd bring this up. I knew.
You were right.
Look, I was stupid,
I protected this girl.
Whom you suspected of fraud.
And I took her to dinner
a couple of times.
Would she have gone to dinner
with you
if she wasn't hoping
for your protection?
Why... Why wouldn't she?
She was 13 years younger than you,
for starters.
Well, she did.
And I kissed her.
We kissed.
That's all I did.
And you didn't report the fraud.
No.
So, when the bank found out,
they what?
Transferred me up here.
They blamed her.
She was...
Well, put it this way,
she knew exactly what she was doing.
So did you, of course.
What time did you leave
the office on Friday?
7:30.
The security guy can vouch for me.
Then I went to pick up a pizza
from Pizza Mario.
You can check.
I didn't mention it
in the interview.
I was panicky about this.
It didn't seem important.
I was home by nine.
So... I've made mistakes
in the past, sure,
but I-I didn't m*rder anyone.
Forgive me if I don't seem
grief-stricken about my sister.
I'm sad, of course.
But we weren't close.
It's years since I've seen her.
I understand you were half-sisters,
is that right?
Yes, my father was a German officer.
He was k*lled shortly after
I was born.
I'm neither proud nor ashamed of it.
I despise everything he stood for,
but it died with him,
as far as I'm concerned.
Is that why you were estranged?
Oh, not at all.
I was estranged
from the whole family
because I married a Jewish man
and converted.
The psychic equivalent
of lobbing a hand grenade
into the living room of my
pathologically Catholic family.
Perhaps you were subconsciously
trying to right paternal wrongs.
I wouldn't call it subconscious.
So you haven't lived in Eguilles
for many years?
No, not since I was a newlywed.
1964, we left.
So I've no idea why Marie-France
jumped on the bus
and thought she'd find me there.
Or indeed, why she'd want to.
But I hear she was losing her mind.
Whereabouts in Eguilles?
Can you remember your old address?
Oh, I loved it.
I hear it's apartments now.
Number 12 Place Du Teale.
Delphine Jourdain's address.
Pathologist's report
on Marie-France.
Estimated time of death around 8pm.
"She didn't die
from the g*nsh*t wound.
"She was already in a diabetic coma
when she was shot."
Why would you sh**t someone
who was already in a coma?
"Fibres on her clothing
"which probably came
from the interior carpet of a car."
Do we have an estimated time
of death for Delphine?
They think probably around
five and six on the same night.
So, theoretically, the same person
could have k*lled both of them.
But why?
Do they know each other?
Maybe we should check that out.
OK, what about this.
Forget them
knowing each other for a minute.
Marie-France gets off the bus
at Eguilles around 5pm.
Obviously confused.
She sets off to see her sister,
who hasn't lived there since 1964.
She arrives at the house,
knocks on the door.
Inside the house...
Someone has just k*lled
Delphine Jourdain.
Marie-France disturbs them.
It has to be the fiance, surely.
Whose wife now knows what's
going on, knows Delphine's name.
She's even left her a message.
Delphine told the fiance
about the message.
We know that
because Elodie Liotta overhead her.
So now he has to get rid of her.
Because apart from everything else,
he's a bigamist.
Who the hell is he?
Seriously, I meet men like this guy,
what's his name? Max?
I meet them all the time
on dating apps.
Did I ever tell you I once
accidentally swiped right
on that guy you work with -
the Police Commissioner?
Roussel!
Well, that's why
I didn't come to Helene's birthday,
I was terrified he might
be there and I'd have to say,
"I'm sorry,
it was a terrible mistake."
I was drunk.
That is the funniest thing.
That's really cheered me up.
You have a friend who's
a perfumier in Grasse, don't you?
That was some swerve,
but, yeah, Marie.
Would she know anything
about this particular maker?
There's no receipt,
but we were wondering
where it might have been bought,
or who might stock it.
Send it to me and I'll ask her.
So, this woman
hands over the letter.
Enhance it a bit.
Oh, it just makes it worse.
Look at this.
What?
Lapierre, outside Delphine's flat.
When was this taken?
5:30 on the night she died.
A member of the public
just sent it in.
They were filming the street
because they were
thinking of buying a house there.
Sorry to interrupt.
We were just looking at that
video of Lapierre.
I just spoke to him.
And?
It seems to fall into his general
stalky twerp behaviour pattern.
But he could have k*lled her.
Does he drive?
Why?
Because Antoine and I were wondering
if the same person
k*lled both women.
But whoever it was
must have taken Marie-France from
the scene in a car. We'll check.
And two more things.
Delphine Jourdain did a wine tour
of Domaine Chardenerais
where Marie-France was found,
three months ago.
She booked as Delphine Jourdain -
plus one.
So... her plus one
knew how remote the place was.
Also, we found the letter,
in Delphine's desk at the bank.
Sadly, it's in tiny pieces.
Can you make out what it says?
Some of it.
It's handwritten,
and signed "Laurence".
She asks Delphine to call her.
Unfortunately, the number's missing.
And Laurence is?
From what we can decipher,
she was still married
to Delphine's fiance.
OK.
We have Lapierre and Lachella.
One of them's single,
but a stalky twerp.
And the other...
Is Kamel Lachella actually divorced?
I mean, I know he said he was.
They're checking that right now.
And, lastly,
Delphine sold her mother's apartment
in Aix two months ago
for 300,000 euros.
So, she had a bit of money.
Verlaque.
Ah, Doctor Vannier,
thanks for getting back to me.
I was wondering if you...
Oh, you're in Aix!
Even better.
So, Lapierre doesn't have a car,
he doesn't even have a licence.
Let's think about Lachella.
Delphine was vulnerable.
She was damaged and grieving.
With a handy-sized inheritance,
the perfect victim really.
I'm still trying to work out why
poor Marie-France was shot
while she was already
in a diabetic coma.
Maybe he was afraid that someone
would find her and revive her.
Judge Verlaque. Madam Bonnet.
How's it going? Any progress?
Slow and steady.
Arrested anyone yet?
Obviously, there's not too much
we can say
during an ongoing investigation.
Of course.
Of course, I'm sorry.
So, you wanted to ask me something.
Yes.
Did Delphine ever mention
cosmetic surgery to you?
What sort of procedure are
we talking about?
Just in general.
I don't recall,
but I really don't think so.
She was 27.
What kind of surgery would
she be thinking of?
Breast enhancement maybe.
Young women get that, don't they?
Although God knows why.
She certainly never mentioned
any concern.
What was the other thing?
Do you think it's a possibility
that Delphine mentioned
her boss was creepy,
as a kind of distraction
from the fact she was having
an illicit affair with him?
You mean he was the fiance?
Is that possible?
That could be the reason
from the subterfuge.
He's much older, he's her boss.
It's not great for office politics.
Hi, guys.
Ooh, sorry, are you working?
Oh, hi.
Hi, it's Sylvie, isn't it?
Marcello, hi.
You two know each other?
We've met, yeah.
But, look,
I'm obviously interrupting.
I'll, erm... leave you to it.
Call me. Marie Marais has a number
for you to call
about the perfume thing.
We met at this absolutely
terrible gallery opening.
Was Sylvie taking photos?
Yeah. Snapping away
at people drinking champagne
and eating awkward canapes.
We, kind of, bonded briefly.
Out of sheer boredom probably.
Anyway, Delphine's boss.
I suppose he could
have been the fiance.
But why would he want to k*ll her?
Thanks.
'Hi, this is Sylvie.
Please leave a message.'
Sylvie, it's me.
That was the weirdest thing.
Where are you?
You said you had some info for us.
Call me.
Here.
30-year-old cognac.
Help take your mind off things.
'Hi, this is Sylvie.
Please leave a message.'
I bet she's on one of her
terrible dates.
Mm.
'Hi, this is Sylvie.
Please leave a message.'
Hi, Sylvie, it's me.
Can you get back to me?
What?
Something's happened to her.
She just hasn't answered
your calls, that's all.
No, I can feel it in my bones.
You're seriously worried?
Yes, Antoine, I am.
Vannier left just after her.
Maybe he spoke to her, maybe she
told him where she's going.
Call him.
What?
I told you what happened
with Max Audigier yesterday.
What I didn't mention was that
while he was sitting talking to me
I kept thinking he reminded me
of someone else.
Someone I didn't like.
I couldn't think of who it was.
It wasn't anything he did.
And then I realised
it was Marcel Vannier.
I wasn't even aware I disliked him.
Marcel Vannier.
That's his name, isn't it?
Sorry?
Sylvie called him Marcello.
Judge Verlaque, what news?
'You didn't run into Sylvie again
after you left yesterday, did you?'
No, why?
Remind me again,
how did you meet each other?
We met at a party.
A gallery opening.
Oh, here in Aix?
'Yes.'
Is there anything else?
'I have a patient waiting
at the surgery.'
No, not for the moment.
Thank you, Doctor Vannier.
Thank you so much for calling me,
Marie.
Erm, did you tell Sylvie
any of this?
So she didn't know.
Yes, I-I will. Thank you.
Doctor Marcel Vannier...
What?
He was the one that bought
the perfume for Delphine.
A small atelier in Grasse.
It's the only place you can get it.
Marie's friend, who makes it,
just rang to say that it was paid
for by credit card, by him.
Oh, my God.
What if she's dead, Antoine?
Jesus, this is just all my fault.
Thank you.
Vannier's wife is called Laurence,
who tried to call Delphine.
She is in London
with her friend Anastasia,
who's been identified
as the woman who dropped
the letter off for Delphine.
Sylvie said in front of him
yesterday,
"I've spoken to Marie
about the perfume thing."
Christ.
He thought she was onto him.
I knew, I knew something
had happened to her!
"Called away on a job.
Speak soon. Sylvie."
This isn't her.
She wouldn't do this.
Sylvie, it's me.
I've just had a text from you.
It doesn't sound like you.
Where are you?
We'll find her.
I promise.
OK.
OK.
Helene?
'Sylvie's phone pinged off a mast
20km north-east of Eguilles
'about half an hour ago.'
That's Vannier's house.
I think he's at the surgery.
I just spoke to him.
'We'll be at the house
as soon as we can.'
We'll bring back-up. See you there.
Come on.
Let's go.
'Sylvie, it's me.
'I've just had a text from you.
It doesn't sound like you.
'Where are you?'
Sylvie?
Sylvie?
What am I going to do with you?
Don't worry.
I'm not going to k*ll you
or anything.
Honestly.
What do you think I am?
Take.
Open.
Good girl.
Oh...
You have a sleep.
In the text, the wife said,
"Check out his last job."
Of course,
she didn't mean Lachella, did she?
She wasn't married to Lachella,
she was married to Vannier.
Oh, holy sh*t.
Listen to this.
"Marcel Vannier, 42, consultant
at the Duvalier Clinic Brussels,
"found guilty of gross
professional misconduct.
"Improper relationships with
at least three female patients.
"One of whom died,
leaving him her estate.
"He married one of his patients,
aged 19."
Jesus Christ.
How did he manage to get
a GP's job in Eguilles?
He must have forged all his papers.
Help me!
Somebody help!
I feel sick.
Oh, I feel so sick, Antoine.
We'll find her.
Helene and the police will be
there any minute now.
No, what if she's...?
Don't think about that.
He didn't meet her
at a gallery opening, did he?
I bet he met her on a dating gap.
And he probably
pretended he was single
and she escaped by the skin
of her teeth!
Or rather, she did that time.
Christ, is that his car?
Helene and the team should be here.
Where are they?
Call them
and find out where they are.
The perfume from Delphine's house.
The car reeks of it.
Helene's been trying to reach you.
They're all caught up in a six-car
pile-up on the autoroute.
Jesus, are they all right?
Yeah, but there's tailbacks
for 20km.
Judge Verlaque.
Doctor Vannier.
Brilliant.
We were hoping you'd be here.
We tried the surgery, but no luck.
Do you want to come in?
Can I get either of you a drink?
Or a coffee?
Er...
I'm OK, thanks.
What about you, Marine?
Erm, nothing for me, thank you.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I seem to have left my phone
in the car.
I won't be a minute.
So what can I do for you?
Erm...
I think Antoine wants to ask
you about Delphine.
And this man, Lachella.
Was it him?
It's beginning
to look like that, yes.
But Antoine is the one
with all the details.
Have you always lived down here?
I was raised here.
My mother was Italian.
But I went up north to work.
Where did you work up north?
Brittany. Lille.
I was in Belgium for a...
Is something wrong?
No.
Sorry, it's just...
What?
The light caught your face
just then.
And you suddenly looked
incredibly beautiful.
'So you're a criminal psychologist?'
That's right.
I nearly became a psychologist.
Really?
Yes.
I have a sort of feel for it.
I understand what makes people tick.
And what's that?
People are quite simple, really.
They want nice things.
And they want someone to save them
from the dark.
Or themselves.
Sylvie?
Sylvie, can you hear me?
So you're half-Italian?
I was christened Marcello.
My mother was
from the Italian terrone.
Marcello, I like that.
Like La Boheme.
Sorry?
The opera.
Really, I don't know it.
Oh, it's tremendous.
Marcello, Rodolfo and Mimi.
OK.
Antoine will be on the phone.
They're about to arrest Lachella.
He'll be desperate for an update.
So, er, the Italian terrone,
is that the same as the alto...?
Would you excuse me a moment?
Oh...
Oh, no!
Oh...
No...
Oh!
Found what you're looking for?
I have, yes.
Don't look so frightened.
I'm not going to sh**t you.
I mean, unless I have to, obviously.
I'm not a m*rder*r.
I'm a doctor. I save people.
Unless they cross me.
Excuse me.
Not now. Not now.
What?
Oh, my God.
Come on!
Vannier, for God's sake!
You might want to strap that up.
Keys.
I haven't got them.
Antoine!
Oh, my God.
Oh, my God!
Twisted my bloody ankle.
That one was the warning.
The next one...
Are you OK?
Yeah.
OK.
Sylvie's in the back.
Oh.
I forgot to tell you.
Armed police!
Police!
Drop the weapon.
Put the g*n down and let her go!
Do it now!
Don't you wanna tell
your side of the story, Vannier?
Put down your weapons.
I can explain.
Take him in.
OK.
I... Wait. This is a mistake.
Are you all right?
Are you all right?
OK. This is gonna hurt.
Ow.
Sylvie!
Oh...
This is all a misunderstanding.
You're safe now.
I'm a doctor.
Oh, my love.
Please?
Oh, my God, are you OK?
Oh...
I think...
I think he would have k*lled me
if you hadn't have got here.
No.
He kept saying,
he kept saying,
"I'm not a psychopath."
Whilst behaving exactly like one.
Sylvie, we're gonna take you
to hospital and get you checked out.
I just wanna go home. Honestly.
Honestly, I'm fine.
Bollocks. You're not.
I just want a shower
and my own bed.
You're not OK.
How could you be?
Go and get checked out, please?
And we'll come and see you later.
Yeah.
OK?
Mwah!
Come on, babe.
Let's go.
Hold on to me.
God!
Should I take you to hospital too?
No.
I'm fine.
Though I have to say,
I'm not really cut out
for dodging people with g*ns.
When I heard that shot...
When I saw him, I was so scared
he'd harmed you.
He hit on me, you know, Vannier?
When you are looking for Sylvie.
He hit on you?
We're engaged now.
Oh, that's so romantic.
You'll be able to visit him
in prison.
I hope they never let him out.
Those poor women.
Delphine Jourdain,
Marie-France D'Arras.
We should say their names.
We should remember them.
God, do you remember this.
It's total cheese.
Yet somehow great.
I'm so glad you're not dead.
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01x03 - Episode 3
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Antoine Verlaque, Investigating Judge in Aix-en-Provence with his romantic partner Marine Bonnet, investigates the murders, mysteries and dark underbelly of their idyllic home in the south of France.
Antoine Verlaque, Investigating Judge in Aix-en-Provence with his romantic partner Marine Bonnet, investigates the murders, mysteries and dark underbelly of their idyllic home in the south of France.