Murder in Provence

Hello?

- (Marine) Antoine? - I'm through here.

- Is that all you're taking? - We're only going for a weekend.

Jesus. Origami and the art of packing.

If you were an article of clothing, you'd be a perfectly folded shirt.

You'd be a white sports bra

- that's been through a mixed wash. - (scoffs)

No, sorry, you'd be a shower cap.

Harsh.

Why are you packing your entire wardrobe?

Because you won't tell me where we're going,

and I need to be ready for every eventuality.

It's supposed to be a surprise, but we won't be going skydiving,

and there are no equestrian events planned.

- Does that help? - Surprises give me a tic.

- Tough. - When I was a child,

a surprise meant

"Mummy and Daddy are off to Biarritz

for three months

and sadistic Gudrun with the moustache

will be looking after you, won't that be fun?"

It's George Moutte here. I've just noticed a missed call.

I've got this do in half an hour.

I've rearranged things, put it that way.

Call me back.

Thanks for helping with this, Claude.

No problem, Monsieur Rodier.

I'm happy to help. It's just brilliant news

about you getting the professorship.

Our lips are sealed, remember.

Well, I haven't said a word to anyone, I promise.

Moutte better keep his promise.

So who do we reckon's getting Moutte's job?

We'll know in about two hours.

I'm more bothered about who gets the scholarship.

- (Garrigues) Yeah, me too. - So, may the best man win.

Quite a bit of gender bias going on there.

- Welcome to my world. - (Yann gulps)

- (Thierry) May the best person win. - (Yann) Sorry, best person.

Oh, Claude! We're taking bets on who's going to get Moutte's job.

Annie Leonetti, Rodier, or Rocchia.

- Dunno. - Well, nobody thinks

I'll get the scholarship, sadly.

It's never gone to a woman, and I can't see Moutte

breaking the mould, can you?

Not a chance. He's stuck in the wrong century.

- 14th. - (all laugh)

Yes, no?

Okay, you win.

This is where we are going.

Oh, is that the...

- The Hotel Colombe! - (Marine) Yeah.

- I've been there. - No!

It's supposed to be a surprise.

You remember that former minister who tried to bribe me,

the one with the terrible wig?

This is where he arranged to meet. Left me with the bill.

A bottle of white, two glasses of water.

I had to take out a second mortgage.

Just as well I'm paying, then.

- (Thierry) Okay, here we go. - (Yann) Christ.

My grandmother's funeral was livelier than this.

Hit the bar? Dr Leonetti, hi.

- Hi, guys. What can I get you? - Can I go for some red, please?

Yeah, same. What time's the announcement?

A weekend of utter squalor, then.

What time do we have to leave in the morning?

Ten-ish. It's only an hour away.

There's a bed in the next room

in case I need to escape your snoring.

Of course, it could be me escaping your snoring.

- You're the one who snores. - I've only your word for it.

- To us. - (glasses clink)

- Nervous? - A bit, which is mad.

- I know I'm not gonna get it. - Hey!

You could be our new professor by the end of the evening.

- Let's wait and see, shall we? - (chuckles softly)

I would like an explanation, Georges.

I have perfectly valid reasons, Bernard,

but I'm not able to discuss them here.

This is, I don't believe this.

- Well, get used to it. - You know what, piss off, Georges!

Monsieur Rodier!

Mm.

My grandmother...

thought oysters were the work of the devil.

Hmm.

She was English, of course,

and could say that while adoring something called Marmite,

which she had specially shipped from London.

Marmite? What's that?

- God knows! - Mm-hm.

- It's kind of like salted tar. - (chuckles softly)

Probably a by-product of Formica.

Clarence, what did Georges say

to make Bernard storm out?

I've no idea.

Georges is never what you'd call forthcoming, is he?

Three of you up for the professorship,

Bernard has pissed off,

Giuseppe Rocchia hasn't pitched up.

Thank God, he brings me out in hives.

Which only leaves you.

Maybe they know something we don't.

- Here we go. - Ladies and gentlemen...

We've gathered here in this beautiful apartment

on this perfect, balmy evening,

for the announcement you've all been waiting for.

And I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you.

I won't be announcing my successor this evening

because I've decided not to retire after all.

This is due, let's just say,

to circumstances beyond my control.

As for the Dumas Scholarship,

I will be making my recommendations at a later date.

Now, I know this must be a tremendous disappointment

to some of you,

but please, help yourselves to more food and wine.

And now, if you'll excuse me a moment.

It's insane! He told me I've got it.

Well, he obviously dangled that carrot in front of everyone.

- Treacherous piece of shit. - What a bastard.

- Did he say anything to you? - He never mentioned anything.

I'm not gonna a stay here and drink his crappy wine.

I'm gonna hit the gym.

Well, well, well, the old bugger.

- Are you all right, cherie? - Yeah, yeah.

I'm just a bit stunned.

All right, will you excuse me a moment?

Georges Moutte, international man of mystery.

Jesus. When did this happen?

Okay. What do you need me to do?

Oh. Let me take that down.

That was the longest pee anyone's ever had

in the history of peeing.

I used to just lift the lid and pee like a horse.

Now it's like effing Morse code.

Dot, dot, dash, dash. Be there all night.

How often do you think about death on an average day?

Once or twice.

It's every other thought with me.

Well, you're older than me.

For you, it's just around the corner.

God, you're cheery, aren't you.

- (door opens) - (gasps)

I sent Garrigues home, there wasn't much more to do.

Thanks for everything, Annie. I appreciate it.

I just have to go over to my office.

Can you let yourself out?

Of course. But, Georges, what just happened tonight?

- (thwacks) - (Moutte groans)

There's a restaurant I know near the hotel.

It's got six tables, the chef's a genius,

not a foam or a sous vide in sight.

- Antoine Verlaque. - (Hélène) Judge!

It's Deputy Commissioner Paulik.

Our new deputy commissioner, get you.

- How does it feel? - (Hélène over phone) Overdue.

But I'll tell you when I see you. How's your weekend going so far?

You're about to spoil it, aren't you?

- (Hélène) Yep. Sorry, Judge. - (sighs)

There's been a murder at the university.

How soon can you get here?

Bastards.

Why couldn't they wait till Monday to do their murdering?

Oh, well. Bye-bye, Hotel Colombe.

Which means, tragically, you'll miss out on the pillow menu.

I was hoping to order one filled with hops.

I'm bereft, I've always longed

- to sleep in a brewery. - (Marine chuckles)

Any more murder information?

No, she just said at the university. That's all.

I'm so, so sorry about this.

Go. Go!

It's not your fault.

Time to mark the essays I was avoiding.

Let me know what happens.