You came. My darling.
Thank you, thank you.
Rest now.
This is for everything you did to me.
I hope you rot in hell.
Two days ago,
each and every one of you
was a witness to a m*rder.
Now, on my whistle,
I want you to go and occupy your places
during the Boxing Day curling match
at the precise moment
when the house was cleared.
Is this really f*cking necessary?
- How's this gonna help us?
- There's more to it than that.
Don't help her. Boss will
think she's worth keeping.
You worried she's coming for your job?
- I mean, middle-aged, white, male.
- Yeah, yeah.
Your days are numbered.
You shouldn't be here.
I told her that, but Crie insisted.
- I have to know who k*lled my mom.
- Okay.
You weren't there.
You were further down.
He's right. You weren't there at all.
You weren't there either.
What are you doing?
Positions.
- Ladies, that's exactly where you were?
- Yes.
- And you saw nothing at all?
- We were watching Bea.
And you didn't hear anyone approaching
just before the m*rder?
Have Bea clear the house, you'll see.
- Go, Bea.
- Hey. Come on.
Go, Bea.
Somebody connected the cable
from the generator to CC's chair.
- Without being seen or heard?
- Did you see me do it?
Once the alarm was raised,
they could've removed them
and buried them in the snow.
I thought it was impossible
without being seen.
That we could rule out a
single k*ller but we can't.
It's quite possible one
person was acting alone.
The k*ller or K*llers chose
their moment precisely,
when everyone's attention
was on the curling.
They knew Bea would clear the house.
And they knew that would be
just the distraction they needed.
They watched. They waited.
And when CC removed her gloves,
they connected the booster cables.
But how did they know
she'd take her gloves off?
Don't let him out of your sight.
CC's husband, Richard
Lyon, he was born into money
so no need to work but he
holds a batch of patents
all for electrical inventions.
So, he knows how electric circuits work?
So, maybe the electric
chair was Lyon's idea.
Agent Nichol, run a background
check on Richard's finances.
He was born into money but
see how much he has left.
Right on it, sir.
Any more background on CC de Poitiers?
I've been trying to figure out who
her parents were. Drawing a blank.
Somebody must know.
She called her book Be Calm.
Maybe there's a
connection with the centre.
Or with Bea Mayer.
- Morning, Bea.
- Hello, Chief.
- Would you like some tea?
- Oh, perfect.
CC fashioned an entire belief system
based on a Christmas
decoration made by her mother?
You've read her book
then? What a load of crap.
You live by her philosophy and
lock your emotions locked inside,
you do yourself some
serious psychological damage.
Her mother was obviously
important to her.
Or not.
Do you know who she is?
CC didn't strike me as the type to
care much for anyone but herself.
- You didn't like her then?
- I barely knew her.
A lot of people come to Three
Pines for all kinds of reasons.
Three pine trees planted close
together as a sign of sanctuary.
Maybe that's what CC was looking for.
Only, she found something else.
She stole that from you?
It's from the Bible, isn't it?
- Are you a Christian?
- No.
Residential school
kinda scarred me on that.
And it's just a gift from a friend.
So you don't believe at all?
Oh, yeah. I do. I believe in
spirit. I believe in nature.
And I believe we're
all connected, but
organized religion has just k*lled
and maimed too many of my people.
- How about you?
- When I was at Cambridge,
I used to go to the
cathedral every Sunday.
The singing gave me
a deep sense of peace.
But since then, I don't need a church
or a priest to feel close to God.
Did Did you drop this feather?
Yes, thank you.
You know, blue jays
are a symbol of clarity.
Hmm.
I carry this with me.
To remind me of someone.
We all carry something, don't we?
"Be calm and know that I am here."
No, no, no. It's wrong. It's "Be
still and know that I am God."
Psalm 46, verse 10.
I understand why God was changed,
but why misquote "still" for "calm"?
It sounds deliberate
rather than misquoted.
I wish you were here.
- It's Pierre, I have to take this.
- Armand?
- Come home tonight?
- I wish I could.
- I wish you could too.
- I love you, my dear.
Okay.
Bye.
- Pierre?
- I thought you'd want to know.
Blue Two-Rivers' mom is back
here in Montreal, outside SQ.
Just sent you a picture.
Something doesn't add up.
The family don't believe that she
wouldn't call to check on her child.
Could you double-check the intel?
Find something concrete so I can
put her mother's mind at rest?
- Sure. I'll do whatever you want.
- Thanks, Pierre.
Missy's out there again in this weather.
She just can't accept Blue ran away.
Can you blame her?
I keep thinking about the jacket.
There's an APB out for Blue and Tommy.
If we can find them, we can
give the family some closure.
- What if Kara's right?
- You saw the photo.
There's no way of telling.
I know, but
It's a denim jacket.
I wear mine spring through summer,
maybe fall, but you know
when I never wear it?
New York in December.
Mmm.
CC's coroner's report.
Jean-Guy not back yet?
No, I think he's still staking
out Saul Petrov's place.
What's this?
According to the coroner's report,
CC de Poitiers had 20 times the
normal dose of niacin in her blood.
- Niacin? Like vitamin B3?
- People use it to detox, apparently.
A high enough dose can
bring on a hot flush.
Hot enough to take your gloves off?
Someone put the niacin in her drink
around 30 minutes before her death.
It is the perfect m*rder.
Once that chair was live,
it was only a matter of time.
Getting CC to take off her gloves
was the final part of the plan.
Now, any joy with CC's parents?
There's no birth certificate
in the name Cecilia de Poitiers.
It's like she doesn't exist.
In her book, she says
her parents are French,
Eleanor and Henri de Poitiers.
So I reached out to the
Police Nationale in Paris.
And their response was, "Please
don't bother us with lame hoaxes."
Eleanor de Poitiers was the real
name of Eleanor of Aquitaine.
She was one of the richest and
most powerful women in Europe.
Married to Henri.
They were a medieval king and
queen of France during the Crusades.
So she lied about her parents?
Unless she was more than 800 years old.
Well, she looked like
she'd had work done.
No wonder Paris thought
I was a prize idiot.
Why would she lie about her parents?
Why would she invent fantasy parents
- stolen from history?
- Maybe her real ones weren't good enough.
Hey.
Why did you try to
destroy these photographs?
I'm assuming these
weren't taken for a book.
Were you planning to
blackmail CC with them?
No. I would never do that to CC.
They were private.
Just for the two of us.
And they're all I have left now.
I knew if you searched
my files, you'd find them.
I didn't want my wife to find out.
I still respect her
even if I don't love her.
Men who sleep around
don't respect their wives.
They steal their time.
These are photographs
from the curling match.
Dozens of them.
Why weren't these on
the key you gave us?
Because they're duds.
We weren't looking at
them for a gallery opening.
- What's this one?
- That's Richard getting CC her coffee.
- Richard gave CC that coffee?
- Yeah.
That was the last sh*t?
- I said you were wasting your time.
- You didn't photograph CC
- during the curling match?
- No.
- He was busy doing something else.
- Yeah.
Trying to put my broken heart back
together. She told me it was over.
Do you know who CC's parents are?
Yeah, CC was obsessed with her
mother. I would even say she hated her.
- Do you know why?
- She told me the woman was a monster.
Said she tortured CC.
Made every moment of
her childhood pure hell.
But I saw that frightened
little girl trapped inside
and it just made me love her more.
I don't think Saul Petrov is our
k*ller. I think he loves CC too much.
Well, Richard gave CC the coffee.
If he knew about the affair,
that's a clear motive.
That looks like a regular sugar packet.
It does, but nothing
to say that it is sugar.
Niacin comes in powdered form.
Besides, CC took sugar in her coffee,
that niacin could've been
added before or after.
Do you think CC's mother
could be here in Three Pines?
I mean, how many of them are old enough?
Ruth Zardo, Bea Mayer, Kaye
Thompson, Émilie Longpré.
If the crazy duck lady is her mother,
I don't blame her for
keeping it a secret.
Let's find out CC's real name.
It's either on her marriage certificate
or she changed it legally beforehand.
If we find her birth certificate,
we find out who her mother is.
Oh.
Pierre?
I just talked to my buddy
in NYPD about Blue and Tommy.
Yes.
A witness statement from a drug dealer,
said he sold meth to Tommy two days ago.
Blue was right there with him.
- You're kidding?
- Sending you the statement right now.
I'm sure Missy Two-Rivers doesn't
want to hear her kid's doing meth.
At least she's alive. Thanks, Pierre.
Here's the report.
Hey, honey.
The dealer in New York has Blue and
Tommy in Queens just two days ago.
Buying dr*gs?
Well, at least it shows she's alive.
If she was alive, she would have called.
The thing about addiction
is it brings a lot of shame.
- If she feels she's let you down
- Blue doesn't do dr*gs.
If she's wherever you say she is,
why don't you have your buddies
go pick her up and bring her home?
18 is the age of majority
in New York State.
We can't force Blue to do anything.
Blue would never put us
through this. It's not her.
It's bullshit. Same old
lies every family gets told.
We know far too many Indigenous
women have gone missing
and we know we haven't done
a great job in finding them.
But all the evidence
points to Blue running away.
I'm sorry, Missy.
But this isn't even our case.
And without any contradictory
evidence, there's nothing we can do.
No.
No.
No. No. No!
This protest of yours
I'm worried some overzealous SQ officer
will throw you in a
cell if you don't stop.
- I know you feel this
- Don't tell me what I feel.
How could you know?
How could you understand
what it's like to sit there,
day after day, unseen.
People like you just
walk past and say nothing.
- Do nothing.
- We would never just pass by
You're doing it right now.
You say Blue's alive
and your investigation stops.
But I know
I know in here that you're wrong.
Blue's gone.
My baby's gone.
Why aren't you looking for me anymore?
You're looking in the wrong place.
- For you?
- For your k*ller.
The truth lies in the
things we can't see.
You have to listen to the silence.
That's where you'll find the monster.
Sir? Sir.
Hmm?
No luck with the chemists, but I
checked out Richard Lyon's finances.
School fees bounced a
couple of times, unpaid bills
and they were living
way beyond their means.
He made some bad investments
and lost his fortune.
Though the way CC was
using credit cards,
I'm not sure she knew about it.
But now Richard's just peachy. CC
was insured for close to a mill.
I call that one million motives.
Great work, Agent Nichol.
Let's pay him a visit.
Okay.
We know about the insurance policy.
- I didn't k*ll her.
- Your name is on the insurance documents.
Your signature. Why would
you buy this huge house?
I signed over my pension for
this place to make CC happy.
What's CC's real name?
- Cecilia de Poitiers.
- It isn't.
- That's the only name I know.
- What's her mother's name?
Eleanor de Poitiers.
- What does this have to do with her?
- Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
You stood to gain a million
dollars. You were angry.
You knew about her affair
with Saul Petrov, didn't you?
You felt humiliated.
And you had the perfect
opportunity to spike her coffee.
- That's just sugar.
- You have the skill and knowledge
to improvise an electric chair.
You know how to electrocute someone.
I didn't.
- I didn't k*ll her.
- Honestly
You don't seem too
cut up about her death.
You're right, Detective.
I'm not cut up. I'm relieved.
For the first time in years
I can wake up knowing that
no one is gonna look at
me like I disgust them.
And no one is gonna hurt Crie.
Couldn't have been easy to live
with somebody that you hated.
I didn't hate her. I loved
her, but I hated what she became.
A bully who liked nothing
more than causing pain.
So you k*lled her?
Do you believe that we can manifest
our own reality, Chief Inspector?
I should have wrapped my hands
around her cheating throat
and choked her to death.
But instead, I was fantasizing
about it when she d*ed.
So unless I manifested
it, I didn't k*ll her.
The insurance is circumstantial at best.
We have no evidence that it was
Richard, and evidence is what we need.
Nichol, go back to St.
Anthony's and look again.
- Isabelle, you're with me.
- Sure.
- It's so quiet.
- I like it.
In Montreal, I can't hear myself think.
But here, every thought is amplified.
Oh.
I need you to check on Missy.
Arnot told me she's back
outside the Sûreté again.
- She's gonna freeze.
- Would you pick her up?
Drive her home? Tell
her I'll see her soon.
- Yeah, sure.
- Thanks.
- Are you okay?
- Oh, it's the cold weather.
Gets right inside the lungs.
Those are beautiful flowers.
- A gift from someone special?
- No. A gift for someone special.
My daughter. It would have
been her birthday today.
Oh, I'm sorry.
Was it recent?
Have you ever had a locked
room you don't want to go inside
because every time you
did, it tore your heart out?
Yes.
And sometimes I
I check the door and look
inside to see if it still hurts.
When my daughter, Colette, was 17,
she got to sing at the Opéra de Montréal.
I was sick, so my husband took
her. They were driving home.
They were just outside the
village, on that road up there,
when the white-out hit.
They never saw the truck.
A mother's one job is
to protect her child.
But the moment my baby needed
me the most, I wasn't there.
My daughter d*ed more than 30 years ago.
But for me, it could be yesterday.
I light a candle for her every day.
I'm so sorry.
You have no idea what it's
like to bury the two people
you love most in all the world.
Sir? Sir.
It struck me that her book was most
important to Madame de Poitiers,
so I asked myself which
copy was the most important.
I found this in the very first one.
Between Chapter 10,
"White-out for the soul"
and Chapter 11, "It'll
be all white in the end."
Her real name was Cecilia Longpré.
It's just a copy and badly faded,
but her mother is "E"
-something Longpre.
Émilie Longpré. I knew it.
Here's the lesson,
never let your emotions sway you
away from what you feel in your gut.
Okay.
Great work.
Hey.
Émilie?
Hmm?
Émilie,
you told us that you barely knew
CC, that you only had one daughter.
That's right.
You're CC's mother, aren't you?
I wasn't lying to you.
I barely knew CC and I'm not her mother.
I'm her aunt.
CC's mother was my sister, Eleanor
"El." Had our girls the same month.
- Was supposed to be perfect.
- But it wasn't?
No.
El was always troubled.
I hoped that becoming a mother
would bring her stability,
but it seemed to deepen her depression.
Then, when CC was 10,
El had a breakdown.
Smashed the house up.
When there was nothing
left to rage against, she
- She att*cked her own child.
- She att*cked CC?
Yeah. El was institutionalized.
CC was taken by her father.
He was not a kind man.
A few years later, when she got
out, El tried to get CC back,
and when she failed,
she started drinking.
Where is El now?
El d*ed in a shelter in
Montreal about a year ago.
One minute, she was well, the
next, she stopped breathing.
They couldn't find a
cause of death, so
the coroner delivered an open verdict.
Did you tell CC?
Oh, yes. And she turned
up here soon after.
For a moment, when I saw her,
I thought maybe she
was my second chance.
CC wasn't looking for family.
She wanted to make sure I
didn't reveal who her mom was.
She really believed her book and
her philosophy would make her famous
and that the whole world
would believe her fairy story.
Maybe she made up the story
because she was just
a frightened child,
hurt, alone in the world.
You You look for good even in
the worst of humanity, don't you?
And sometimes I find it, too.
Hmm.
Why didn't you say you were related?
- Richard and Crie never mentioned it.
- They don't know.
I begged CC to let me
be a part of Crie's life.
She said I could watch
Crie grow up from afar.
But if I told her or
Richard who I really was,
she'd move away and I'd
never see Crie again.
We might share blood,
but there's nothing of me or
my family in that cruel woman.
I watched her m*rder that
poor child with words.
Émilie.
Chief Inspector, I'm
not feeling so good.
Would you mind if we finish tomorrow?
- Madame, we have a lot to talk about.
- I know.
- Just give me tonight, please.
- We'll pick it up first thing.
Wrap up warm.
They say a blizzard's coming.
Agent Nichol, there's a
suspect I need you to watch.
Missy.
You mind if I sit with you?
What for?
So you can claim my
daughter's out smoking meth
while her baby cries for her mommy?
Look, we promised we'd find Blue and
And we did.
How can you find her when you're
looking in the wrong world?
I know this must be difficult to accept.
That she left her family,
- her child.
- My mom ran away
from residential school
when she was 15 years old.
And vowed that when she had kids,
she would do whatever
it took to protect them.
And she did.
Never knew love or care herself.
But somehow, kept me safe
and loved me my whole life.
But I couldn't keep Blue safe, could I?
No matter how much I loved her,
because I couldn't change the fact
that every time she left the
community, she was in danger.
So whatever your photographs
and witnesses say, they're wrong.
Blue didn't run away. Somebody took her.
Somebody hurt her.
She's dead. I know it.
And now, nobody is even looking for her.
We trusted that you'd help us.
You just turned away.
Isabelle.
Missy won't let me take
her home. It's minus-20 out.
She feels betrayed.
- We did what we could.
- Did we?
Listen, there's a severe
storm warning out here.
Don't drive back. Stay in the city.
Okay, good night.
- You knew Émilie's sister El, didn't you?
- We went to the same college.
"Be calm." It's a code.
It's all your names, isn't it?
Bea, Kaye, El, Em.
You adapted a psalm, personalized it.
You must have been very close to
have a secret name for all of you.
To build a life around it.
I guess we were.
You and Kaye and Em,
you're still friends?
Don't leave the village, will you, Bea?
You kidding me?
Oh, man.
- Émilie? Check upstairs.
- Sure.
Boss.
I think you already know the
truth, Chief Inspector, so
thank you for letting me go
yesterday, letting me do this my way.
I k*lled CC.
I spilled the washer fluid.
I put the niacin in her coffee.
I attached the jumper cables.
That's the thing about being old.
No one can see you anymore.
You can do anything
because you're invisible.
I'm sorry to take a life, but
I had to save Crie from that monster.
That beautiful girl
deserves to be happy.
Get SIJ and put this in evidence.
Where's Émilie?
Where is she?
You know what she did, don't you?
Bea, let me help her. Where is she?
The East road.
Outside the village,
where her family d*ed.
Sometimes she goes there when
she wants to feel close to them.
Émilie!
Émilie!
Émilie.
Émilie!
Émilie.
Émilie.
Émilie.
It's all right.
It's all right.
You're gonna be all
right. It's all right.
That was the hospital.
They think Émilie's gonna make it.
Imagine a love so great you would
throw away your own life just for it.
Wouldn't you do it
for your granddaughter?
- For Reine-Marie?
- Oh, yes.
Sir, I'm really sorry
about the stakeout.
I've been staying up late
trying to cr*ck the case.
We've all done it, Agent Nichol.
Just don't let it happen again.
Okay.
Anyone mind if I keep these?
You're kidding, right?
What? They're so soft.
The truth is in what we don't see.
You all right, sir?
You can't see the metal claws
unless you turn them over.
Émilie couldn't have seen
them, so she couldn't have known.
What are you saying?
It wasn't her.
I think the k*ller confessed to
her. Told her almost everything.
Émilie knew about the
niacin, about the washer fluid,
and the jumper cables,
but not about the boots.
Only the k*ller knew about the boots.
"If I cannot inspire
love, I will cause fear."
Émilie inspired love.
Her friends would have
done anything for her.
- Even lie.
- But, sir, she confessed.
Lots of innocent people confess.
I told you to listen. I
was the one who was deaf.
Émilie said no one noticed
her as she was invisible.
She wasn't the only
one who was invisible.
Please.
- Please don't do this.
- Monsieur Lyon, I have to come inside.
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
Round yon Virgin
Mother
And child
Holy infant
So tender and mild
I thought I understood you
because we'd been through
the same thing, but
that wasn't it, was it?
We do have something in common.
We both buried our pain.
Somewhere deep where
it couldn't find us.
But the body knows.
Pain always finds the surface
one way
or another.
They use those chairs
to punish children.
Give them shocks.
Not enough to k*ll.
Just enough to hurt.
That's where you got the
idea, wasn't it? You're smart.
I bet your dad taught
you what the school didn't
about electrical circuits.
But your mom didn't need
the chair to punish you.
Her disappointment was enough.
But you are loved, Crie.
By your dad,
and someone who'd give
their life for you.
You mean my aunt?
She told me the day after my
mom d*ed that we're related.
But it was too late.
My mom always said, if you
have a problem, fix it yourself.
No matter how hard.
So I fixed it.
I only did what she did.
And I wish you'll rot in Hell.
We were never here.
No child should
ever see what you saw.
Will I go to prison?
I hope not.
Friggin' psycho.
She's a child, Agent Nichol.
Every child deserves to be
saved. Compassion costs nothing.
The whole village was silent
while CC mistreated her
and celebrated when she was dead.
She was the final repository
of all her mother's and
grandmother's fears and fantasies.
Like Frankenstein's monster.
A patchwork of all their horrors.
Missy!
No! Missy!