Original subtitles

[music playing]

[theme music]

HOST: I never did find out her name.

I never did really know her.

I glimpsed her once, that's all.

I was in the station.

I saw her face in the window of the train.

The train started up.

You live, you love, all that-- all that.

But then once in a while, there's a face

you just can't forget.

[music playing]

Helene?

Helene?

St-- Helene!

They're burning, all of them.

Ashes, Helene.

They're gone!

Please!

Please, don't go!

Helene!

I've got a gun!

Helene!

[gunshot]

[dramatic music]

[computer static]

QUENTIN: Yeah, you wanna see art?

You wanna see art, Larry?

You go out in the street,you give any bozo there a--

a spray can, crayons, whatever, and you'll

get better art than-- thanwhat's hanging in the Met.

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, Larry, you're right, man.

I am great.

I am the fucking greatest.

I'm a fucking genius, Larry.

There's no denying it. Yeah.

Well, why don't you read the magazines, Larry?

They'll tell you.

They'll tell you all about it.

Uh-huh.

You wanna know what Ithink about my work, Larry?

You really wanna know what I think about my work?

Listen, Larry!

Hey, now, how's that?

New art?

There you go!

There's a new artist for ya!

Oh, fucking masterpiece!

Wa-hoo!

How about that for art?

[slashing]

Helene, where are you?

Helene?

[car door closing]

Helene!

No!

I did it for you, Helene.

I did it for you.

For you!

[screaming]

STRIKE: You love her so much youcan't stand to be without her?

And then what?

She leaves?

She leaves you for another guy?

Well, you're not the first, you know.

She's done this to other guys.

Some of them wound up a lot worse than you.

Quentin, can you help me out here?

What happened?

I wanna know what a woman like this is like.

Where does she live?

How can I find her?

[sighing]

I've seen your work, Quentin.

It's pretty good.

Did you paint her?

What's she look like?

She must be very beautiful.

Can you help me out, Quentin?

Just tell me something about her.

You have to keep him tied up like this?

ORDERLY: Well, if we don't,he'll make trouble for himself.

Oh, he won't.

ORDERLY: OK.

Now, you behave, Quentin.

You wanna drawsomething for me, Quentin?

MARIE: Helene.

Look, I don't care.

Look.

None of it matters.

None of it.

Helene, I won't go to the conference.

War, peace, it's meaningless, huh.

It doesn't matter anymore.

Helene, [speaking french].

Helene, I can't be without you.

Helene, [speaking french].

Helene!

I'll kill myself.

[car door slamming shut]

Helene!

[sobbing]

[car honking]

What are you doing?

STRIKE: I got a story here, Amy.

I can feel it.

You know what happens when I feel it.

AMY: Last time you felt it, you got fired.

We got sued. - So?

I made one mistake.

One too many, Strike.

OK, listen, we got three people.

First, we got a famous heartsurgeon-- biomedical engineer.

He burns these plants.

He runs into the street in his bathrobe.

He shoots himself in the head.

Bam!

Too bad he wasn't a rapper, huh?

Dead rappers sell papers.

OK, we got an artist-- Quentin Dean.

He shreds his paintings, heslices the tendons on his brush

hand, and he winds up in the funny farm,

babbling all day long.

Our readers don't care much about art--

unless it's a tattoo on a movie star's ass.

OK.

But Marie Duvall-- special envoy to the UN.

She's about to bring the Northand South Koreans to the table.

What happens to her?

She's caught in the headlights.

She winds up a hood ornament.

So?

Lots of people kill themselves.

No, Amy-- Amy, you're not getting it.

This is three people-- threefamous, talented people

on the brink of major breakthroughs

and they're all obsessed with the same woman--

Helene, Helene, Helene.

Mm-hm.

This is a story.

Helene who?

Helene.

[STUTTERING] Helene-- I don't know.

What's your headline?

"Beauty Kills." [chuckling]

Who says she's beautiful?

Maybe she's a dog.

STRIKE: No, nobody kills themselves over a dog.

AMY: You don't know our readers.

OK.

Look, I am offering this to you--

AMY: Yeah.

You don't want it, I'mgoing to the competition.

Strike, let's talk.

I thought we were.

AMY: Yeah.

I can be there only tomorrow.

It's the last thing I've said.

Yes.

Yes, that's exactly it.

The artist-- Quentin Dean--that's all he had to say.

[music playing]

Helene!

Stop!

Helene!

Helene!

I want to talk to you!

[tires squealing]

DONALD: I got the model right here.

No one's ever done this before.

That's the way I designed it.

That's the way it stays.

Look, the design works.

My last building won four awards.

And this one's 10 times better-- 10 times!

Look, I-- I'm in a room full of people.

I'm in a meeting.

Gotta go.

Talk to you later.

[music playing]

HELENE: It's over.

What do you mean it's over?

Helene?

Helene, I got this for you.

Helene, this is yours. What's the matter?

Where are you going?

Hey, what's gotten into you?

Come on. [inaudible].

Just talk to me.

What's the matter with you?

Helene!

What do you mean it's over?

Helene!

[music playing]

Helene!

Helene!

Helene!

No!

[music playing]

[tires squealing]

Wait!

Wait!

Hey!

Helene!

Wait!

Hey.

DONALD [VOICEOVER]: Helene!

Helene!

[tires squealing]

[engine stops]

[police siren]

Hey, what are ya doin'?

Hey!

Put the pipe down.

Come over here so I can see ya.

I gotta get in there.

I gotta see her face!

There's nobody in there.

Nobody's been in there for 10 years.

Put the pipe down.

No, she's in there.

[pipe clattering]

I just saw her kill a man.

She killed all of them.

Yeah, what are you, high, buddy?

You on something? - No, no, no.

You don't understand.

She's in there. - Yeah.

Put your hands on the car, OK?

I'm a reporter.

Come on.

You're under arrest, sir.

- I'm tryin' to show you my ID.- Yeah.

You got a problem with that?

You got a problem with that?

Aw, man.

No!

AMY: Tell him it runs like that.

He changes a word, I'll feedhis testicles to my dog, OK?

Yeah.

Strike, I'm tired.

I wanna go to bed.

You owe me $400 for bail.

Charge it to the story.

There is no story.

Her name is Helene Bournouw.

Well, you got a last name.

You are an ace reporter.

I'm impressed.

Remember that church inNorth [inaudible] that burned

down four, five years ago?

Yeah.

Cops said that the monsignortorched it, then shot himself.

My mother used to go mass there.

What does that have to do with Helene Bournouw?

That's where her car is registered.

Can't be.

There's nothing there anymore.

There's nothing anywhere.

I ran the data on her.

There's no-- there's no credit cards.

There's no utilities.

There's nothing.

On paper, she doesn't exist.

Does she exist, Strike?

I saw her.

And what does she look like?

She's tall.

She's blonde.

She's got a big hat.

Uh-huh.

Orange coat.

Right.

But that church, the monsignor.

He'd been working on his treatise

for 20 years-- burned up.

I think she killed him justlike she killed the others.

Bullshit.

Come on, Amy.

These are individuals at the top of their game.

These people did not kill themselves

because the pizza didn't arrive on time

or because [inaudible] didn't like them.

No.

They destroyed everythingthey'd worked for.

Why?

You tell me.

She made them kill their dreams.

She's evil.

Give me a break.

No, it's true.

She's evil.

I love it.

It's a great story.

You're losin' it.

[music playing]

[door creaking]

HELENE: You're in good company, Strike.

I knew you'd come.

You couldn't stay away.

I understand.

Well, come closer.

Get a better look.

I'll let you.

[chuckles]

Who are you?

I'm your best friend, someoneyou trust, someone you love.

I can give you excitement,danger, all kinds of emotions.

But you know that.

OK, that's good.

What did you do to them?

Whatever it took.

Why did you kill them?

They couldn't help themselves.

Their strength was their work,but their emotions were mine.

And I didn't like their work.

It was good-- brilliant even.

The world doesn't need brilliance.

It works much better with mediocrity.

This is good, but, uh, I need some,

uh-- some basic facts here.

Look, who are you?

You know who I am.

That's why you're here.

OK.

I need to see what you looklike, what it does to me.

You know, otherwise it's impossible.

Nothing is impossible, Strike.

You're proof of that.

A nobody, a has-been tabloid journalist

finally doing something good--not just good-- exceptional.

You've discovered me, and nowyou're going to tell the world.

You're going to warn them, aren't you?

STRIKE: That's right.

I'll be the messenger.

I'll warn them.

I won't wind up like the others.

No, Strike, that's not what I want.

You want to see my face, don't you?

See my body again?

Come closer.

Look.

Touch me.

See if you can find perfection.

That's why you're here.

Come with me.

STRIKE: Helene.

Wait.

Here I am, Strike.

Do you like what you see?

What do you prefer?

Am I who you want?

Of course I am.

I'm what you all want.

Come, Strike.

I need you.

STRIKE: No!

To lose oneself, to fall head over heels,

to drown in a sea of love-- Imean, that's always the point,

isn't it?

[music playing]