All language subtitles for The.Truth.About.the.Harry.Quebert.Affair.S01E04.WEBRip.x264-ION10.en

Previously on The Truth About
the Harry Quebert Affair...

: What's this?

It's for putting
dry bread in

so you can
feed the seagulls.

Oh.

You have to feed the seagulls,
Harry,

it's very important.

All right,
I promise you,

I will feed the
seagulls every day.

Tell me
something sweet.

Tell me I'm your...
your darling Nola.

I can't.

I can't do this.

Well, I knew I had to
get her out of my head.

So the following week,
I forced myself

to get closer to Jenny.

: He likes you.

Oh, my gosh, stop being
a peeping tom, Mother,

he's just being nice.

I think he's basing
a character on you.

I was hoping we could
picnic on the beach,

and then find
a secluded spot to talk?

I have to go to Bar Harbor.

My publisher is in Camden
for the 4th.

Jenny!
Mr. Quebert is here.

: She was a nice girl,

but she wasn't Nola.

I knew Harry Quebert was
obsessed with that poor girl,

and I had proof.

Who else knew
about you and Nola?

Did Tamara Quinn?

Shortly after Nola disappeared,

I started receiving
these anonymous letters,

and then they stopped about four or five months after that.

I don't know why they stopped,
but they stopped.

No! I-I got it!

Nola, are those bruises?

It's my mom.

She hit me when I got back
from Bar Harbor.

Your mom?

She says I'm a wicked girl.

That's crazy.

No, she wanted to
teach me a lesson,

and she's right.

I am a wicked girl.

Nola did tell me
about an older man

she was involved with
that summer.

Do you remember his name?

There's no way
I'd ever forget it.

He's one of the richest men
in Maine.

Just what I need
first thing in the morning.

You are not gonna believe
what I found out.

Look, writer,

I don't want you complicating
this investigation

with any of your crazy
unproven leads.

What if Nola Kellergan

wasn't the perfect
little angel

everyone says she was?

Now, we know about
her and Harry,

but it turns out,

she was having
secret rendezvous

with another older man
at the same time.

And how do you
know this?

Nancy Hattaway,

Nola's best friend
when they were 15.

That doesn't make it true.

When you're 15, you tell
other people all kinds of shit.

Gimme.

Now...

does this Bachelor #2
have a name?

Yeah.

Um, Elijah Stern.

Are you out of
your mind, writer?

You're talking about
one of the richest,

most respected men in the state.

The heir to a damn empire.

Now, unless you have
solid evidence,

I'm not about
to cross swords

with a guy who plays golf
with the governor.

Okay.

I found those

hidden in the house
at Goose Cove.

We searched the house.

Yeah.

Oh, you searched
the house?

Yeah, we searched the house.

Yeah, well,
searching a house

isn't the same
as living in it, okay?

Glad you didn't
evict me now?

"I know what you've done
with that 15-year-old girl,

and soon the whole
town will know."

They're all
the same, okay?

Harry started
receiving those

shortly after
Nola disappeared.

Someone knew about them,
Sergeant,

someone who wanted
to get back at him,

someone who might have
killed Nola

the night she was on her way
to the motel to meet him.

Excuse me, what?

Harry...

Harry was waiting for her
at the By the Sea Motel

in Room 8, okay?

He said Nola had
sent him a letter

saying that
she'd meet him there,

but she never showed up.

And where's that letter?

I don't know, it disappeared.

Look, the point is, Sergeant,

Nola Kellergan
never showed up, okay?

That means she was killed

on her way to the motel
to meet Harry.

So some maniac kills her,

buries her in Quebert's backyard

with a copy

of Quebert's manuscript,

but it isn't Quebert?

Yeah.

I don't think so.

Yeah?

You're due
in Portland at 10:00.

I guess time fucking flies

when you're having
this much fun, huh?

Aren't...

aren't you gonna
follow this up?

Sergeant, if Elijah Stern
wrote these letters...

You're grasping at straws.

Whoever wrote
"Goodbye, darling Nola"

is most likely the killer.

See what the writing
analysis tells us

before you go around

accusing innocent people

of murder.

: So you mean
that Elijah Stern,

the pillar of the community,

turns out to be
a dirty old man?

: Yeah,
sure looks like it.

:
Not good enough, Goldman.

Not good enough.

Guys like Stern fall in love

with their own reputations.

If he even
gets the sense

that you think of
him as a suspect,

he'll slap you with
a defamatory per se

before he can sic one of
his big Rottweilers on you,

who are trained to go
for your nuts,

and you won't be able
to claim shit

for turning into
a boy soprano

because, technically,

you're trespassing.

Could you put some of that

skin softener on there,

the pink stuff?

Yeah...

No, I wasn't talking to you.

And after he sics
his dogs on you,

then he'll go for your throat.

He'll sue you for libel,

for slander,

for defamation of character--

: Well, what am I

supposed to do, then?

Just sit back and do nothing?

Well, uh... play it safe

for the time being.

Go after your other leads.

And don't go after Stern

unless you've got
some real evidence,

unless you want
a permanent position

with the Vienna
Boys' Choir.

She was beaten, yes,
I knew about it.

I saw the bruises.

It was horrendous.

You never reported it?

She begged me not to.

What else did Nancy say?

She said that, um,

that Nola seemed
very depressed that summer.

Yeah, on the 4th,

I took Jenny
to see the fireworks.

That changed her
mood dramatically.

Her letters...

are heartbreaking.

The, uh...

the 4th of July,
the letters, the beatings--

that's all in
The Origin of Evil,right?

It's all there,
Marcus, yeah.

It's all there.

So many people
have analyzed the novel,

and the symbolism,

the allegories,

all of it.

It was just a simple story

about Nola and me.

Want more coffee?

What are you hiding
from me, Nola?

I'm not hiding anything
from you, Mother.

I promise.

Don't you lie to me!

You think
I haven't noticed?

Of course not.

Out all the time,

covered in makeup
like a damn whore!

No! No!

Take off
your clothes!

No.

Take them off!

Okay.

Why are you wearing
a brassiere?

I have breasts.

You're too young
to have breasts!

Take it off!

No!

[Nola screaming,
music from garage blasting]

Do you understand?

I don't wanna!

-Take it off!
-No!

Don't make me!

[music is loud,
but beating is louder]

Nola?

Just a minute!

The place is packed.
We need you!

Just a minute.

I just happened
to be passing by,

and I see that Minnie's
the only one on the floor,

and she said that you've been
in the bathroom forever.

Nola?

Yes!

What's going on?

Nola, have you
been crying?

I just don't
feel so well.

Aw... I'll give you a hand
during the rush, okay?

They're going crazy
in the kitchen.

Just quick as you can.

Hey.

I added some sugar.

Thank you.

You won't tell your mom

that I screwed up today,
will you?

Please.

Come on, let's sit.

Sometimes it helps
just to talk about it.

My heart's just a little
broken, that's all.

Aw, honey...

You'll find
the right guy some day.

Trust me.

When I was your age,

I thought I was in love
like, a bunch of times,

and I, uh...

and now I realize

that those experiences
were just...

they were just
preparing me for Harry.

Harry?

Harry Quebert.

I know...

I shouldn't even
be telling you,

'cause it's all very new
and everything, but...

Yeah, um, I just thought

that you looked
really sad and hopeless.

Last night, he took me to
Augusta for the fireworks,

and it was so romantic.

And you know his book?

Well, I'm pretty sure
that I'm the main character.

Like, he's too shy
to just come out and say it,

but he's always looking at me,
and then, like,

scribbling
something down, and...

He took you out last night?

Mm-hm, but you can't
tell anyone, okay?

Not till it's, like, official.

Yeah.

Anyway, I just thought
I would, you know, tell you

as... as proof that good things
are on their way.

Thank you.

You can finish that.

I'm gonna go clean this up.

Okay.

:
"My darling Harry,

I know the truth now,
I know I've lost your love.

I don't know how, or why,

but I can feel it gone forever.

I only ask
that you write to me.

I need to know
you're still in the world,

and that I still exist
for you.

I couldn't live thinking you'd forgotten me completely."

:
"Forget you?

I might as well forget
part of myself.

But for now, I must
master my love for you,

turn it inward, for your sake
as well as mine."

: "Help me, Harry.

How can I stop loving you

when the hours I spent with you

are the only ones
I haven't wasted,

the only ones
worth remembering?"

: "We were
too young to live in the past.

Every morning we'd wake

to find the person
we were yesterday is dead.

Look around you.

Wherever life can grow,
it will,

as you must, Nola,

as I must let you."

: "I won't ask
to see you, Harry.

We'll meet again
only when you wish to.

Until then, I'll wait,
and hope,

and when you want me,

I'll be there."

So the first letter
she wrote you was on...

July 5th.

She found out from Jenny
we went to the fireworks.

Next day, it got worse.

Nola?

Nola, can I come in?

What's the matter,
sweetheart?

It's Mom.

She hurt me again.

Hey...

How about we go
to the movies?

The Return of the Pink Panther.

I remember how much
you liked the first one.

Now, what do you say?

You, me, and a bucket
of popcorn, hmm?

Okay.

And there's our Jenny
at her dance recital.

She won the gold ribbon

for best
pointe solo that year.

That's because that other
little girl was pushed

and broke her ankle.

Tripped.

Pushing
was never proven.

Yeah.

Oh, and there she is,
our little Olga Korbut.

So much talent.

Yes.

God, not the photo albums.

It must be boring you to tears.

Oh, not at all.

I think
you look lovely.

Doesn't she,
Mr. Quebert?

Yes.

Should we go?

Yes, we should
probably go, I think.

-Okay.
-Okay, well, thank you.

I just have to get
my purse, and then...

Okay.

Okay.

I thought about buying
this model last year,

but my wife said
it made me look like a pimp.

No offense.

All right,
that's enough man talk.

You don't wanna be late.

Oh, and Mr. Quebert,

I do hope that
you'd be free on Sunday

to come to
a garden party?

As our guest of honor,
of course.

Uh, yes, I...

I think I am,
actually.

Excellent.

It's nothing fussy,
just a little country lunch

and a few nice people,

people who have known Jenny
all her life--

Well, really nice
seeing you both, and I...

I, uh, I'll get your daughter
back at a reasonable hour.

Oh, take all the
time you need.

Why don't you find us
a couple seats?

I'll get the popcorn.

I'm so excited.

Yeah...

Oh, uh, so I'm going...

I'm gonna meet you inside,

'cause I'm gonna visit
the ladies' room.

Okay, there's
your ticket.

I'll try and
get some seats.

Okay.

Thank you.

Harry, let's not sit
too close to the front.

Yeah, no, let me get
some popcorn.

Why don't you
find us seats?

Okay, no butter, please,
and

Don't be angry
with me, Nola.

Did you have a good
time with your publisher?

Just go back
to your girlfriend.

She already
told me everything.

I shouldn't have
lied to you, I'm sorry.

Oh, my God,
I was so hungry.

I guess funny movies
really give me an appetite.

Oh, I just love
Inspector Clouseau,

don't you?

Mm-hm.

"Is that your monkey?"

It's hilarious!

So good...

Harry, don't take me
home right away.

Let's go to the beach.

The beach?

Yeah, we could...

we could park nearby,

and look at the stars,
take a walk...

We could go skinny-dipping,

our bodies bathed in moonlight.

Oh, Jenny, I--

Or-or how about
Side Creek Lane,

by the woods?

It's got a beautiful view
and a lovely place to park.

I'd really like to show you.
-Okay.

There's a really nice
quiet spot over here,

by the trees.

No one's gonna
bother us here.

I feel like I'm in
high school again.

It's okay, I want to.

I want you as much
as you want me.

I can't.

I can't...

This isn't right.

Jenny, I can't.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Jenny, you're
a beautiful woman.

I had a lovely time tonight.

It's just that I...

I'm...

I'm distracted.

My mind is
on my writing.

You deserve better than that.

It's okay.

I understand.

You're an artist,

and your book is all
you can think about.

When will it be finished?

I don't know.

All right, well, um,
good night, Harry.

Good night.

Thanks for
a good night.

Yeah.

-Okay.
-Okay.

Everything okay, Jenny?

Fine.

Travis, what
are you doing here?

Just night rounds.

Did you, uh, did you
go out somewhere fancy?

Uh, prom queen reunion.

I have them
every couple years.

Hey, so, um,
I was just wondering--

:
Is that you, Jenny?

Travis, I...
I gotta go.

Thanks for keeping
an eye on things.

Night, now.

Harry?

Open up, Harry!

I'm sorry I hit you.

I didn't mean to hit you.

Please, please
open up, Harry!

Can we just please
forgive each other?

Where do you
think you're going?

With you, where else?

This isn't
a social call, woman.

You stay put.

And don't go blabbing
to anyone, you hear me?

Blabbing?

What am I,
the town gossip?

Connie?

Maggie Pratt.

I have the most
devastating news.

You got
the trauma kit?

Yeah.

Reverend, I'm so
sorry about Nola.

That's enough
for today, Marcus.

That's enough.

You don't marry
the condiments anymore?

You know, I wouldn't have
sold you the place

if I'd thought
you were gonna turn it

into a third-rate
greasy spoon.

I'm sorry it isn't up
to your standards, Mother.

Feel free to patronize
another diner

that suits you.

Preferably
in another state.

When I owned it,
it was a destination.

We were listed in
Fodor's, for God's sake.

We still are, Mother.

Couple of girls
are sick, that's all.

Here, try the lemon cake.

On the house.

What can I
get you, Marcus?

Just a burger,
thanks.

With fries...
The usual.

Thanks.

I know you.

You're that little
son of a bitch

that was always
trailing after Quebert

like a lost puppy.

Yes, ma'am.

That, uh...
that's right.

Mom, this is
Marcus Goldman.

He's a well-known
writer now.

Oh.

Ah, you're grown up
since I last saw you.

Sort of good-lookin'.

Well, I appreciate
the compliment.

In a New York
sort of way.

And the anti-Semitic
euphemism.

You know, I hope they
make that monster suffer

the way he did
that poor girl--

Mother,
that's enough.

You know,
you are a writer.

Why don't you
write the truth

about that twisted
son of a bitch?

He killed Nola.

And--

And he killed
Mrs. Cooper,

and in some ways...

he killed
my Jenny, too.

: You see,
on a Sunday in July,

I hosted a garden party

that should've been
a proud day for me,

and for Jenny.

I invited all
the important people

of Sommerdale.

The mayor, chief of police,
even our local senator.

I promised them a big surprise.

I knew their eyes would pop
out of their heads

when they saw
our illustrious celebrity,

Mr. Harry Quebert, saunter in.

"What's he doing here?"
they'd ask.

"Oh, he and my Jenny
are friendly," I'd say...

Oh, is everyone
here okay

with your welcome
cocktails?

It's our third one.

Oh, well,
welcome.

Honey?

Mom, I don't think he's coming.

Of course he is.

I'm sure he just got
caught up with his writing.

No, no,
I just called,

and he's not there.

I'm sure he'll
be here, my love--

Look at you,

you're about to meet
your future son-in-law,

and you're just lookin'
like a drifter.

Okay, there you go.

Go talk to people,

mingle, don't be shy.

I'm gonna call.

: That day
he did everything he could

to dishonor the good name
of our family...

Tamara, darling,

your party is pure perfection.

I just feel so badly
it's been overshadowed

by the tragic news

of that Kellergan girl's
suicide attempt.

I'm just so relieved
that she's gonna be okay.

By the way, you two,

you really know
how to put on the dog.

Steamers, lobster,
sirloin tips?

Who the hell's
getting married?

Excuse me.

So, tell us already.

What are we supposed
to be celebrating?

Um...

My dear friends...

the reason we called
you all here was, uh,

to announce that...

we have a new color television.

Bob has cancer!

He's gonna die.

What? I...

I have cancer?

You do, my dearest.

But...

I thought we were
gonna announce--

I know you did, my love,

but I just thought it
would be easier to tell you

among our nearest and dearest.

It's times like these that...

it's important to have
one's friends around us

to remind us
that we're not alone.

We'll never
forget you, Bob.

Mr. Quebert.

Oh, Reverend.

I, uh, heard about Nola.

Is she all right?

Very kind
of you to come.

You probably heard

she tried to
commit suicide.

Yes, I did.

Yeah, rumors...

It's the price you pay
for living in a small town.

Ah...

She, uh...
she had a headache,

and she picked up
the wrong medicine.

Oh.

Oh, well,
that makes sense.

Well, please give her,
uh, my regards.

Very good of you.

I'll, uh, I'll give
her the message.

She shouldn't have
too many visitors right now.

I'm sure you understand.

Oh yes, of course.

Did you ever find out
where he was?

Ah... seducing some
other teenaged girl,

for all I know.

And my Jenny...

was destroyed.

Devastated.

That's right...

Quebert?

Quebert!

Huh...

Quebert?

"Nola..."

"Nola, my darling"?

"Were you to die,
where would my love go?"

That made me wanna puke.

Well, what, it never
crossed your mind

they might have
loved each other?

Loved each other?

There's no way that
innocent little child

would've...

responded to his advances
by her own volition.

No, he used her,

and then he made her
suffer for it.

Poor child.

And so what did you
do with the paper?

I took it with me.

Why?

To destroy him,

see him go to prison
where he belonged.

Well, what, did you
tell anyone about it?

You bet I did.

Chief Pratt.

What do you
suggest we do?

Keep it in
your safe for now.

And don't worry,

you'll see how we deal
with guys like that

around here.

Okay.

He said
he would look into it.

And then Nola disappeared,

and he said he would
investigate further...

Okay.

But by that time,

that goddamn paper
had disappeared also.

Yeah, the paper
disappeared?

And how did
that happen?

Who the hell knows?

I kept it in the safe
at Clark's.

I was the only one
with the key.

One day, in early August,

I went to look for it,
and it was gone.

Strange,
don't you think?

Yeah.

Listen, do you, uh,

do you know someone
named Elijah Stern?

Of course.

He funds the gala,

and, like,
a million other things.

He also, uh, he owned
the house at Goose Cove.

He rented it to Harry

before he sold it
to the pervy son of a bitch.

Excuse me, Goose Cove
belonged to Elijah Stern?

Yup.

How well did you know

Elijah Stern?

Hmm...

The first time I met him
was at the gala.

I sat next to him.

Very charming man.

Smart. Eccentric.

Patron of the arts.

That's it?

Um...

he was a nice guy to talk to.

I went to
his house a few times.

Beautiful home.

Why?

Did Nola know him?

I don't think so.

I mean, she might have met him
at the diner, but...

Mm-hm.

No chance
he might have seen her

when she was at Goose Cove
with you?

Well, I don't know.

Can I help you?

Yes, I'm here
to see Mr. Stern.

My name is Marcus Goldman.

Do you have
an appointment?

No. No, I don't.

Mr. Stern doesn't
see visitors

without an appointment.

And how do I make
an appointment?

Mr. Stern makes
the appointments.

That's a bit of
a catch

Good day, Mr. Goldman.

Just-just tell him

it's about
Nola Kellergan, please?

One moment.

Mr. Goldman?

Mr. Stern will see you.

Mr. Goldman, sir.

Thank you for
seeing me, Mr. Stern.

Mr. Goldman,
the writer, correct?

Yes.

To what do I owe the honor
of this unannounced visit?

I'm investigating the
death of Nola Kellergan.

Isn't that what
we have police for?

I'm a friend
of Harry Quebert's.

And what does that
have to do with me?

I understand that you...

Well, the house
that Harry lives in

at Goose Cove

used to belong to you.

I sold it to him
in 1976, yes.

I was just wondering

why someone like yourself
would own a house in Sommerdale.

It's not exactly, uh--

My father built the house.

He wanted something by the ocean
that was close to Augusta.

Sommerdale's
a pretty little town.

So, just, uh,
just to be clear,

when Nola Kellergan disappeared,

you still owned Goose Cove.

I did, yes.

A witness saw her getting
into your chauffeur's car

several times
the summer she disappeared.

My chauffeur,

Luther Caleb,

was a brave and honest man.

A man of talent.

An artist.

I won't have you here
sullying his name

when he's no longer present
to defend himself.

He's dead?

He died
a long time ago.

Was that his art studio
I saw from the front?

Yes.

I kept it
just as it was

out of respect.

And you don't have
any reason to believe

that he was involved
in Nola's disappearance?

You have your killer,
Mr. Goldman.

Mr. Quebert is in prison
awaiting trial, is he not?

Well, I'm not convinced
of his guilt,

which is why I'm here.

Your investigation
must be faltering

if you're coming here
to question my background

and implicate my chauffeur.

This interview is over.

Goodbye, Mr. Goldman.

Thank you for your time.

: Luther Caleb
was a brave and honest man,

he said.

A man of talent,

an artist.

I'm so sorry.

Would it be possible
to use the facilities?

The guest
bathroom

is through
the sliding door

to the left.

Okay.
Thank you.

Holy shit.

Oh, my god.

Thank you.