Original subtitles

September 19th, 1997.

Hello.

First I ought to say a little about myself.

I'm forty-two years old.

I've lived a very normal life.

My childhood and adolescence was uneventful.

I was a brilliant student,

and I grew up in a perfectly normal family.

My father died five years ago,

a year after my wedding.

He had Alzheimer's, a nasty disease.

My mother is still alive.

I married a girl who was...

normal.

We separated after 19 months.

I can't say exactly

why we separated, but the truth is, I can't say why we married either.

I guess...

Never mind.

Since then I've lived with my mother.

I work at the university.

And that's it.

KILLING WORDS

My life is such that it's hard to believe that I killed a woman this morning.

But I did.

I killed her.

What surprises me most

is I haven't the slightest remorse,

no guilt feelings, nothing.

Not even a slight unease.

I don't know, it worries me.

I don't even remember the look on her face.

I killed her around breakfast time.

I strangled her.

It was easy. She was old.

She didn't resist much.

Physically, she resembled my mother,

a small, fragile woman.

She went red,

but her tongue didn't protrude.

I thought when someone was strangled to death, their tongue stuck out.

Not her.

I killed her in her own home.

I saw her enter a doorway and went in with her.

We took the lift together.

When she saw me get out on the same floor, she asked

which floor I wanted.

I said the 4th she said we're on the 3rd.

I apologised for my confusion,

and pretended to go up the stairs to the 4th.

When she opened the door, I ran down,

shoved her inside and shut the door.

She didn't cry out.

She stayed on the floor, staring at me.

I sat on top of her...

and strangled her.

As I left,

I closed the door with my jacket sleeve

so as not to leave fingerprints.

And no-one saw me.

In films, when people do this kind of thing,

they leave some trace and the police catch them.

In real life,

this doesn't happen.

No.

In films, there's a hair on the victim's fingers

which is tested for DNA,

or the murderer has carpet fiber from his house on his shoe

which gives them a lead, or whatever.

But in real life, no.

Anyone can do what I did...

and then go back to work,

or home to make lunch,

or pick up the kids from kindergarten.

I don't think I'll do it again.

It didn't do much for me.

It's a diary.

I always make a tape.

This is from two years ago. It was the first time.

The idea came to me...

all of a sudden.

I thought it'd make it simpler for experts to study my case.

I want it clear that I will kill you.

We can have a fairly long conversation,

but know that at any moment,

when you least expect it,

I will kill you.

Before I kill you, we will fuck.

Or maybe after, I haven't decided yet.

It doesn't matter.

Later I'll show you more tapes,

so you can understand my evolution.

You're good at your job.

Doctor Laura Gal�n:

Psychiatrist.

I trust you will understand me.

You must realize that at the time I had no intention of hurting anyone else.

I say this on the tape: "I will not do it any more".

But...

since then I've jumped at every opportunity.

Later I'll show a tape

where I talk about how I killed the first child.

At one point...

I explain how I did it,

and I cry,

a flood of tears.

I cry profusely, I really do.

It's an intense moment.

What is perfectly clear

is the anxiety I'm experiencing.

Understand? No, don't say anything.

We'll talk later.

I want to show you something. Stay right there. Don't move.

Look, look...

These are my parents and this is me.

This is my grandmother.

My mother.

This looks like a dog, but no, it's a bitch!

This is the house where we spent our summers. Look,

I'm a normal boy, almost commonplace.

Who put that in here?

I didn't do this.

I'm incapable of such a thing.

I'm a normal person.

Well, normal...

What I mean is, I'm not mad.

I know I need help.

What do you think?

All right,

I admit it's not a comfortable situation.

We should be in an office,

I'm on the couch and you're taking notes

on my childhood,

but I'm impulsive.

I thought if we were going to spend time alone here,

you could submit me to a more intensive therapy.

I have to confess something.

I'd rather you hadn't seen that photo, just like that.

I can explain.

I don't usually flay my victims.

It was Christmas and I was feeling...

very sensitive.

She insulted me all night.

I can't stand that, so I gagged you.

It makes me nervous.

It upsets me.

You understand?

You're not going to insult me.

Right?

Does the gag bother you?

You're lucky.

It's not often a professional

has the chance to study a phenomenon

as it happens.

Do what you like, anything,

but please don't hurt me.

Do you know how to play "word chains"?

Please...

It's easy.

I say a word and you say another

beginning with the sound of the last syllable.

Then I make up one from the last syllable of yours

and so on until one fails. No repetitions.

It's an interesting game.

It sets up some revealing subconscious connections.

I'll ask you nicely:

Who wants to play word chains with me?

Nobody wants to play word chains with me?

- Who wants to play word chains? - I do.

You're not very enthusiastic!

Commence.

Time!

The first word was "commence", you fool.

Mercy.

Ah, mercy, mercy.

"Commence" has an 'n'.

If I say "commence", you can't say "mercy'.

You should say

"mencey' but "mencey' doesn't exist.

Concentrate!

Let's try again.

But this time we'll play for something more exciting.

What can we play for?

I know.

If you win, I let you go.

That's all right, isn't it?

If you lose, I pluck out an eye.

It's simple.

You insert a spoon,

push it in, and use it as a lever.

No, don't be afraid.

It won't kill you.

I'll stop the bleeding.

Cholera.

Ram�n.

Monogamy

Please...

All right, I'll play!

Monogamy...

Miasma.

Maleficent.

Sentiment.

Mentor.

Torment.

That memory isn't part of my mentality.

Tedium.

Umpire!

Pyromaniac.

Acquiesce.

Escort.

Idiot!

Don't insult me.

Courtesan.

Sanatorium.

Umbilicus.

Custody.

Divorcee.

Equilibrium.

Equilibrium.

An apt word in your field, doctor.

I'm sorry to tell you that you failed.

Grammatical error.

Di-vor-cee,

not di-vorc-ee

"Cee",

not "ee".

A different sound altogether.

You should have said a word beginning with "cee".

But you know that, right?

What happened?

Did I make you nervous?

You must concentrate, doctor.

A lot of people make mistakes in this situation, but you...

I won.

- I'll get the spoon. - Hold on!

- What? - Let's play again.

No. You lost.

Give me a chance to get even.

No.

I'm the one getting even.

In my life, I committed a murder.

My friends know all about it.

To verify this, I could provide a document with many signatures.

I doubt many

could present such a fine certificate.

Mine would be the size of a breakfast tablecloth.

As you may guess, this is not my confession,

but that of Thomas De Quincey.

"Murder Considered as One of the Fine Arts"

I hope no-one in this room doubts my innocence.

As you all should know,

De Quincey considered the possibility of seeing murder

from a purely aesthetic viewpoint.

In his most famous work,

he made this observation.

I quote:

"If a man indulges himself in murder,

very soon he comes to think little of robbing;

and from robbing he comes next to drinking

and Sabbath-breaking,

and from that to incivility

and procrastination.

Once begin upon this downward path,

you never know where you are to stop.

Many a man dated his ruin

from some murder or other

that perhaps he thought little of at the time".

De Quincey was above all a moralist and agitator.

Murder for him was but a magical transgression,

capable of creating an alternative,

diabolical world.

Don't forget that.

And don't forget

that irony is Reason's last resort

in the face of reality.

You look a little nervous. It's getting late.

Let's leave it there.

I'm still waiting for your assignments.

See you next week.

Mr. D�az.

Can we have a word with you?

Just a second. I'll collect my things.

Good afternoon.

I trust you haven't been waiting too long.

I am Superintendent Espinosa.

I'm sorry you had to cancel your evening classes.

I'm sure my students are grateful to you.

What do you teach at the university?

Philosophy.

Aesthetics mainly.

Philosophy, huh? That must be interesting, ethics and all that.

Aesthetics.

I teach Aesthetics.

Yeah, sure, aesthetics.

Excuse my ignorance.

Mr. D�az,

do you know why we brought you here?

No.

We're investigating a woman's disappearance.

Laura Gal�n.

I believe you knew her well.

Give me a chance to get even.

No.

- I'm the one getting even. - I'll beat you this time.

You'll beat me?

I don't think so.

All right,

we'll play again. If you lose, I pluck out both eyes.

- And if I win, you let me go. - No,

that was before.

- Lf you win, I won't pluck them out. - That's not fair.

I think it is.

But if it's not that, what do you want?

- Release me. - No, that's impossible.

An alternative, let me see...

I know.

If you win,

I'll let you make a phone call.

- To anyone I want? - Anyone you want. Yes.

I'll let you talk for one minute.

I promise.

Let's do this right.

I'll tape everything,

so that when I beat you, you can't say I cheated.

Let's do a sound check first.

This will do.

Read it aloud.

"If you're listening to this, they let you go too soon. Robert told him..."

"If you're listening to this, they let you go too soon. Robert told him..."

Perfect.

We start as of now.

Harass.

Asinine.

Nineteen.

Teeny.

Emergency.

Erase.

Yes.

Did I tell you your clothes look very racy?

Racy.

Enough.

There's no word that begins with "nough".

You lose. The telephone.

- It doesn't count. - The telephone!

Are you going to call the police?

No.

What will you say? "A psychopath kidnapped me."

"Is he there?" "Yes" "How can you phone?"

"We played word chains and I said 'enough'

and since nothing

begins with 'nough', he let me call".

- Ridiculous, huh? - I won't call the police, I promise.

Give me the number.

Three,

two, five, two,

zero, four, nine.

- Why do you want to call my mother? - You said anyone I wanted!

I lied.

And the phone's out, it's out of range.

I don't pay the bills. It's plastic.

I threw it, and it broke. It doesn't work!

Then let me go. I beat you, you bastard!

Don't insult me!

You don't have to insult me. Please do not insult me!

If you won't let me call, let me go. That's fair.

But don't insult me.

It is fair.

We have to see justice done.

If you'd lost you wouldn't have eyes now.

We have to be consistent about what we say.

And about the truth.

The truth will make you free, remember?

Your legs have gone to sleep.

What a shame.

The girl with the perfect body.

I've really missed you.

You separated four years ago, didn't you?

Four years already?

Time flies.

You know Inspector S�nchez. It's his investigation.

You don't mind him sitting in with us, do you?

According to the report, a neighbour, Mrs. Ja�regui,

saw a leak a couple of days ago

on her bathroom ceiling,

coming from Ms. Gal�n's flat directly above.

Finding no-one at home,

she called the fire brigade.

That was when they found the flat turned upside turn.

And that's where we came in.

She had some unanswered calls.

Patient appointments mostly,

and a couple of friends.

We suspected your ex wife went missing twenty days ago.

What's that to do with me?

I haven't seen her in four years. You said so yourself.

I never said that.

Whoever did it must have been enraged, quite enraged.

So?

Ask her patients. She's a psychiatrist, isn't she?

She must have files full of weird types,

those that like telling their sexual fantasies to a cute doctor,

or that they pull out flies' wings.

Your ex wife specialized in child behavioral disturbances.

I can't see some snotty-nose kid going this far.

We found traces of blood, did you know that?

She must've had her period.

- How did you know it was her blood? - I didn't say the blood...

This is absurd, Superintendent.

- Am I under arrest? - No, we're filing a report,

routine questions.

- Like some water? - Yes, please.

I'll be right back.

I won't lie to you, Mr. D�az.

We have reason to believe that something terrible has happened to your ex wife...

and you are our prime suspect.

That's absurd, Superintendent.

Laura and I were finished a long time ago.

Mr. D�az, do you consider yourself a violent person?

Not especially.

In that regard, I'm very ordinary.

"He hid behind doors

and he struck me on the head.

He said he was joking, but the blows were hard.

Once I even lost consciousness."

That is a statement from your ex wife...

in front of a judge and under oath.

If I may say,

that doesn't seem "ordinary' to me.

She and her lawyer made up that crap during the divorce.

These things happen.

What will you bet that you don't know today s date?

Today?

Today?

Today is the 19th.

Our anniversary.

Correct. Best wishes, darling.

It would have been six years today.

Memory is essential, Laurita.

You always said that confronting your memories

is the first step in any therapy.

I want to be cured. Go ahead.

Ask me some questions.

I can't help you, Ram�n.

You've got no choice.

What do you mean?

It's logical.

If you cure me, I won't kill you.

I can't tell in 10 minutes what's going on in your head.

Treatment needs time.

Let me go and I'll treat you away from here.

I won't tell anyone. It'll be our professional secret.

Give me your hand.

Don't tie me up!

The table is fixed to the floor. There's no use trying.

Just a moment.

Right, start asking me questions.

How can I treat you tied up like this?

The classic model.

Start with my first sexual experiences.

I refuse to answer but you insist,

I refuse, you insist and insist.

I end up admitting that when I was four,

I found out my mother shaved her legs with my father's razor,

giving me a trauma I'm unable to overcome.

I recognise my trauma and I'm cured. Simple as that, doctor.

Ram�n, this is ridiculous!

I need more details,

the motives for your behavior.

Use a hypothesis, or invent one.

Show your knowledge.

I don't know how to help you.

Then we've got a problem.

I'll ask you, then.

You owe me some explanations.

A simple one to start.

Why the hell did you leave me?

Please...

Or should I ask you why you married me?

Everyone wondered why.

I left you because we had problems.

Wrong answer!

I don't remember any problem.

Because you made me sick! Satisfied?

Sick?

Why did I make you sick?

Answer me.

I'm the judge now.

"...he struck me on the head". I should have ripped it off!

"His sexual behavior wasn't quite normal".

What do you mean,

"wasn't quite normal"?

"He wanted to put things in me,

he spat on me..."

What gave you the right, Laura?

What gave you the right?

You should hang your head in shame.

You said unforgivable things.

Everything you said to the judge was a lie.

With that false calm,

letting a tear fall now and then,

playing the abused wife to perfection.

I was frightened.

Once he made me get out of the car, naked, in the snow.

Lies!

We both said a lot of things.

Both of us, no! You never stopped talking.

Our split wasn't amicable, but some are worse.

This doesn't do any good. I've no grudge against you.

But I do!

I've been waiting to give it back to you

- wrapped up in one present. - Let me go.

No. First admit that everything you told the judge was a lie.

So according to you, all this is false.

I told you, she invented it with her lawyer,

who even managed to get her the flat.

That someone virtually destroyed.

Some coincidence, huh?

How long since you gave up smoking?

Two weeks? Six?

Want one?

No, keep the pack.

But don't let out your anxiety on me. If you're pissed off,

go to the toilets and shoot up some nicotine.

Calm down, gentlemen.

Superintendent, please.

You know I'm innocent of this shit you want to pin on me.

You've got nothing on me, and you know it.

Allow me a personal question, Mr. D�az.

Do you have any enemies?

Apart from the odd angry student,

my ex wife

and your assistant here,

I don't think so.

Someone sent us, in all anonymity, certain...

circumstantial evidence.

So?

It all points to you.

I don't believe you.

And if I told you this photo is of a woman

whose body was brutally skinned,

would you believe me? In addition, the lab tells us

that someone,

presumably the person responsible, left their prints on it?

- Do you want to take a look? - Please.

A shame.

The fucker that did this had to be truly sick!

Did you do this?

Yes.

Why?

Why? Why? How should I know?

You tell me, doctor.

How could you come to this?

It hasn't been easy, believe me.

Do you realize what you're doing is wrong?

Of course. Do you think I'm an idiot?

If they catch you, your only way out

is to be diagnosed as a psychotic.

Laura, I'm not mad.

You should know that.

Have you really killed more people?

Yes.

Eighteen.

- Nineteen, including you. - You needn't count me.

In strict mathematics, no. That's right.

But what do numbers matter?

One, eighteen, a hundred...

The important thing is...

the fact of being able to kill.

It should be impossible, or at least difficult.

- But it's very simple. - Simple?

Most people would find it impossible.

Because you haven't tried it.

Why would we have to try it?

It's not like tasting wine.

Killing isn't...

You can't try it, Ram�n!

No?

When did you start killing?

Before or after we separated?

After.

Let's say it's part of a general plan.

Luckily it's all over because...

I'm tired, you know?

The police have been following a serial killer for months.

At first they didn't link the murders...

but now they re connecting them

and it's making it harder for me.

It's a question of time.

Where are the bodies?

Here? Under the floor?

Some of them.

All of them wouldn't fit.

Right now...

you're...

on top of a beautiful girl.

Seventeen years old.

She wore braces. I pulled her teeth out.

Here...

is my second old lady.

She died of a heart attack before I could do anything.

A pity.

Actually, they re not all here.

I built a chamber of quicklime.

You put them inside,

and they slowly crumble away.

What do you feel when...?

Nothing.

Mr. D�az.

Superintendent, I told you.

This is not Laura. And I didn't take this photo.

I've got nothing to do with this shit.

Jesus, this is a frame-up.

We're just trying to stick to the facts.

Sure, sure.

And if they don't fit the theory, bad luck for the facts.

Am I wrong?

At least, that's what Hegel said.

- Hegel, sure. - Yes...

Hegel.

With your surname, you should've gone into philosophy.

Superintendent Spinoza.

You'd make a fine rationalist.

Why don't you play games with my name?

Did you know he was murdered? Spinoza, the philosopher.

Poisoned, they say.

- The culprit was never caught. - Right.

Nowadays we have more means available.

Latest technology, my friend. Not a penny spared.

I killed her.

What's this?

Sit down and listen.

What surprises me most is I haven't felt the slightest remorse.

No guilt feelings, nothing.

Not even a slight unease.

I strangled her.

She went red,

but her tongue didn't protrude.

The tape's been doctored.

Could be. It's a copy of a home video.

At any rate, it's you on the tape, right?

I killed her in her own home.

And no-one saw me.

In films, when people do this kind of thing,

they leave some trace and the police catch them.

In real life...

this doesn't happen.

No.

Anyone can do what I did...

I need to go...

to the bathroom.

Of course.

Why don't we arrest him now?

If we charge him, from that moment on

the law works more in his favor than ours.

We should use his anxiety.

As a suspect

he'll do anything to prove his innocence.

He'll talk and talk,

and in the end he'll make a mistake.

We have to wait.

Did you have sex with any of your victims?

What do you mean?

Anything.

Undress them,

or touch them,

or abuse their sex organs.

I don't understand.

Mutilated their breasts or sex organs.

Yes,

but not necessarily the sex organs.

I normally start with the face,

the eyes.

Almost all psychopaths begin by mutilating the eyes.

It means they stop thinking of them as people.

Most can't stand to be watched.

It's doesn't bother me if they watch me kill them.

You know I'm not shy.

You don't mind, do you?

Whenever you want.

Laura.

I tried to talk to her for a long time.

She didn't answer the phone, or my letters.

In the end, I did it.

What exactly did you do?

You could say I kidnapped her.

Sure,

and what would be the sense in that?

I only wanted her to play word chains with me.

I've ever heard anything such poppycock.

Cocksucker.

- Motherfucker! - Inspector!

Mr. D�az

was only showing us how to play word chains.

And you lost the first one.

You could have called me "cursed"

or anything beginning with "ker".

Got it?

- You lost a good chance to insult me. - That's enough, all right?

All right.

Where were we?

The kidnapping.

It was easy.

Laura is a creature of habit.

I just had to wait for the chance, and go into action.

She was surprised to see me.

Did you hurt her at any time?

Not at all.

I treated her like a queen.

I wasn't easy convincing her to go with me in the car.

I had to say my mother was in hospital,

terminally ill,

and she had to say good-bye.

Did she believe you?

Yes, she did.

They got along very well.

Before, they got very well.

She's dead, you know?

Your mother?

It was about 15 days ago.

Her heart.

Sorry. We didn't know.

Yeah, sure.

- Where were we? - The two of you in the car.

We hardly talked on the way.

We went to my mother's home, my home.

It was night when we arrived.

My mother was in bed, the lights were out.

Laura saw through it right away.

It may sound strange,

but she didn't resist much.

Did you threaten her at all?

I told you I didn't need to.

I guess she ended up believing what she said at the divorce.

She was genuinely frightened.

I took her to the basement

and tied her to a chair.

That's when I put on the video and...

told her I was going to kill her.

We're going to have to arrest you, Mr. D�az.

- You may call your lawyer. - No.

I'd rather leave the legal paperwork till later.

Is there any tape left?

Great.

I still haven't told you the best part.

You still look beautiful to me.

Why don't you play another video?

- Would that help you? - Yes.

Which one?

I don't know. Whatever you want.

- The last person you... - It was a taxi driver.

A month ago.

The one before was a child. Do you prefer a child?

A child.

Yes,

three months ago.

I taped it as soon as I got home.

June 19th, 1999.

Today I killed number 17, a kid from the outskirts.

Around 12 years old.

I found him on a vacant lot.

I called him and when he got close,

I hit him with the shovel.

He didn't lose consciousness,

but he was groggy enough to not be a problem.

I tied his hands behind his back,

put a ball of insulation tape in his mouth,

and some clips on his nose.

He turned as red as a delicious Golden Apple

and I began the countdown from twenty.

When I got to eleven,

his eyes popped out, and on three he snuffed it.

I put him in the trunk and left him at a rest stop on the way home.

He's the first body I've left on the motorway.

The next one will be a taxi driver. It will look like a robbery.

Then it's Laura's turn.

But with her,

I'll have to be thorough,

because I'll be the first one they suspect.

What do you think?

You got rid of the body

on the motorway, on the way home?

There is no rest stop on that motorway.

Maybe. I rushed home to record the tape.

No,

you said you left him at a rest stop on the motorway on the way home.

Yes, maybe.

I have another surprise for you. Stay here. Don't move.

Remember?

Like the good old days, doctor?

I like smelling the fear on your body.

It gets me hot.

You're wearing the same shirt as in the video.

So?

It's the same stain,

in the same place.

Three months later.

It's tar, it doesn't come out.

You'd never put on a dirty shirt.

This one, yes. The shirt is special.

And Golden Delicious

are yellow, not red. Son of a bitch!

- You've buggered my foot. - Fuck you, you bastard!

A boy with insulation tape in his mouth, the countdown...

I know you Ram�n,

and I admit you did a good job.

You made...

this tape today, not three months ago.

I like this shirt. I always wear it when I kill someone.

You weren't wearing it in the old lady video.

Because it was the first, but in all the rest I did.

Do you think this is a joke?

And I believed there was a chamber full of bodies.

- I'll show you. - Never mind.

You could've filled it with chimpanzee bones.

"The taxi driver, 18, Laura, 19".

I don't know why I didn't get it before.

Bravo!

Hats off!

I'll report you.

You kidnapped me.

You'll go to jail for this.

You're very observant. You always have been.

It's a shame, because I've got a few more surprises left.

You noticed the stain on the shirt!

The door!

You were right about the shirt.

I taped the last two this morning. I ran out time.

You want us to believe it was all a set-up?

I spent weeks planning it.

I spent hours

and hours working out the scene, filming the videos.

I read lots of books on serial killers and psychopaths.

But it was worth it.

I wanted revenge.

The door!

"If you lose I'll pluck out both eyes."

If I do say so myself,

but the truth is,

it was a fine performance, wasn't it?

Ram�n,

stop playing the fool and open the door.

No.

You still haven't admitted that you lied.

Have you got microphones set up here, or what?

What good would it do me to tape all this?

No judge would accept a forced confession.

It's merely personal satisfaction, Laura.

I've kidnapped you, tied you up,

handcuffed you. I've even hit you.

I'm the one in trouble from now on.

I just want you to admit you lied.

- That's all. - I told many lies, yes.

I admit it.

You admit it.

Why didn't you say before?

You were supposed to be a psychopath, right?

If I told you, you'd have killed me.

You made it all up.

Everyone lies in a divorce, Ram�n.

I was defending my rights.

You made me look like a degenerate monster.

My mother cried for three months, you know?

Ram�n,

this is starting to get boring.

Now if you don't mind, I want to leave.

You're not leaving until you're sorry.

All right. I'm sorry.

How was that?

Fuck!

What else do you want me to do?

I want us to make love.

What do you want?

To fuck

on the table?

Go and wank it.

I still fancy you.

You're pathetic and disgusting.

I did all this for you, you know?

All for you, all this shit.

So you could feel the same as when we were together.

A surprise every day,

remember?

Give me the key, you bastard!

Do you really believe this is all a set-up for you?

What about the photo of the girl?

Did you notice she was on this table?

It's a Polaroid. You can't doctor it.

I haven't killed 18 people, I admit that.

I've only killed two.

This girl and another.

It's a lie.

Don't come any closer.

I'll pluck out your eyes.

Of course it's a lie, stupid.

You think I could do something so vile?

Seems you don't know me.

She's a model.

Don't do that to me again.

I couldn't resist it. You always take the bait.

I hired a great make-up artist.

It's all make-up, glucose, latex.

Check it out if you like.

Go on.

- Let me go! - No.

I want to make love. Now.

You're crazy.

We could play word chains.

Seems fair to me.

I wasn't serious.

I was.

You can't gamble with these things, Ram�n.

You can gamble on everything. Absolutely everything.

If I win, you let me leave.

- And if I win? - Whatever you want.

Simple rules.

One: No repetitions.

Two: Only existing words.

Three: Twenty seconds time limit, okay?

Okay. I'll start.

Strumpet.

Petulant.

Antipathy.

Theatrical.

Calumny.

Knee-jerk.

Jerk-off.

Often.

Tenacity.

T-bone.

Bonehead.

Headshrinker.

Urchin.

Chintzy.

Easy. Anybody s, a slut. Easy.

Even you couldn't turn me into that. "Even."

Venomless.

No word begins with "less".

Yes, there is.

I admit it's hard,

but there is.

Time's up, darling.

Just a second!

Time! To begin with "lesser".

And another:

"Lessee:

Legal user of a house or land for a fixed period."

You lose.

All right.

Let's get it over with quickly.

And you did it,

just like that?

A bet's a bet.

I can't believe it.

You'd be surprised how special Laura is.

This is crazy.

Yes, if you look at it from that angle it is...

a little strange.

What?

Is it up?

No?

Not even a little?

You should start worrying.

Maybe if I didn't shave my legs,

or I cut my hair like a boy.

What's this about?

What's it about?

Want to know why I left you?

Why I put on that act in court?

I lied to conceal the truth.

What the hell are you saying?

I'm saying you slept with guys!

With your own students!

You're nuts.

Did you think I wouldn't find out?

Well, I did.

- You never said anything. - Like...

"My husband, the famous philosopher, sleeps with boys"?

No, I couldn't.

I could've ruined your career with one insinuation.

What are you saying, Laura? None of it's true!

Deny everything.

- It's all you know how to do. - Where did you get that from?

Tell me!

It was your mother, Ram�n.

Your mother.

What?

I can never thank her enough for opening my eyes.

Impossible.

Let's go and ask her.

Sure we'll go. Right now.

Nice try.

It was your mother, Ram�n.

Laura, please.

I was totally in love with you. I'd never have cheated on you.

And even less with men. You know that.

- I can't believe she said that. - In technicolor.

My mother...

When my father died she began calling us at all hours,

saying she was Ionely, and frightened.

Remember?

- She wanted to live with us. - But you refused.

Because you weren't too keen, remember that.

I'm sure she made it up so you'd leave me and I'd go and live with her.

When our problems began her illnesses disappeared, don't you see?

How can a mother make up such a thing?

You don't know my mother.

She's more twisted that you and I put together.

A student, Christ!

How could you believe that?

She caught you with one of them.

- In her own bed. - That's enough, please.

She cried like a river when she told me.

She can't have been lying.

She makes everything up.

She drove my father crazy. All she does is lie.

She told you we had to split up, didn't she?

Blows to the head, cockroaches...

My lawyer insisted that if I repeated it often enough,

everyone would end up believing me.

Even you.

And where is she now?

Can't you guess?

No, I can't guess.

I imagine she's far away...

laughing at me.

Or should I say "us"?

You don't get it, do you?

The game's not over.

And she's winning now.

Superintendent.

May I see you?

We spoke to the make-up artist.

The girl in the photo was a model. We checked it out.

Christ!

Take it easy, Inspector.

I don't buy it, boss. I don't.

This dickhead is lying, I'm sure of it.

Right.

At least let me try.

Do we let him go just because we had no search warrant?

Come on.

Any judge would turn a blind eye.

We have no body, S�nchez.

No body, no crime, so...

So he walks, I know.

Christ!

He'll slip through our fingers.

He still hasn't called a lawyer.

He's defying us.

One hour, Inspector.

I'll give you one hour, that's it.

Alright, Mr. D�az.

Let's play.

May I go now?

No, you may not.

Your explanation is extremely clear.

One can tell you're used to giving speeches...

Only trouble is, your ex wife is still missing.

So if I remember correctly,

on one hand there's video of you confessing to a murder.

And on the other,

no proof she is still alive.

This is absurd.

Yes.

Absurd.

Absurd and unlikely. So absurd it's believable.

Christ!

The bastard's not very tidy.

You did a good job of faking the evidence.

Though I don't know if I should congratulate you.

It'll be hard for you to prove it's a set-up.

I'm innocent. You can't arrest me.

On what charge? Toying with my ex wife?

I'd lock you up just for wasting our time.

But I'm afraid it's more serious.

- You have to believe me. - Did you call me a rationalist?

Perhaps I am, and a good one.

One last time.

Where the hell's your ex wife?

I swear I don't know.

And I swear I won't leave you alone till you tell me.

Laura's so perverse.

Everyone is to you. Laura, your mother...

Leave my mother out of this!

Let's go. There's nothing here.

Superintendent.

It's S�nchez. He says it's urgent.

Yes?

Superintendent?

If you're listening to this, they let you go too soon.

I admit you did a good job.

And I believed there was a chamber full of bodies.

How could you come to this?

You're crazy.

If they catch you, your only way out

is to be diagnosed as a psychotic.

You'll go to jail for this.

And now, if you don't mind, this is starting to get boring.

I'm going far away

and you'll never see me again.

I beat you, you bastard. You lost.

Go and wank it

I have to confess something.

This isn't a set-up. It's true.

Well, it is and it isn't.

The divorce upset me.

I didn't understand anything.

The only thing I wanted was to see you dead.

If I killed you, I'd be the prime suspect.

Then I thought...

of the serial killer thing.

The "19th Day Killer".

You'd be one more.

Of course they d question me.

But who'd imagine I'd kill 18 people

to cover my tracks?

It may sound strange,

but it seemed a good plan to me.

That's enough.

Do you think the shirt was an accident?

Do you think I don't know there's no rest stop?

Of course I know.

And I knew you'd pick up on it.

We've been playing cat and mouse.

It's been very intense. I've had a lot of fun.

But we're at a turning point in our relationship.

I don't like doing this at all, but that's how the ending was written.

Ram�n, please.

Five,

four,

three,

two,

one,

zero.

You're shit-scared now, right?

You think you're funny, don't you?

You're never satisfied.

The door's locked!

The door!

What the hell are you doing with that camera?

He wasn't just another student, darling.

He was top of his year.

It's a little different.

They were so close to taking away my freedom.

Freedom.

Dominant.

We checked the number.

It came from her mobile.

He wasn't just another student, darling.

He was top of his year.

It's a little different.

No.

The following is for the couple's eyes only.

For Eric