All language subtitles for Out Of The Unknown S04E04 - Deathday - 1971.english

[theme music plays]

Adam, breakfast!

[clattering]

Just a moment.

[heartbeat pulsing]

Adam, breakfast's getting cold.

Do hurry up.

[David's voice in Adam's head]
I love you.

David.

I love you.

David.

Adam?

Adam, how many more times
must I tell you breakfast--

What's the matter?
Are you ill?

David's letter?

I didn't expect you
to search my bag.

- I needed aspirins.
- Yes.

Well, I suppose something
like that had to happen.

Who is he?

Not anyone you know.

- I’m sorry.
- Sorry?

That you had
to find out like this.

The last thing I want to do
is to hurt you,

please believe that.

Don't let's be silly, shall we?

Tell me, it isn't true.

Shall we talk about it
over breakfast?

Come along.

Adam, do come on.

Sit down and eat
your cereal, dear.

[scraping]

Is it serious?

Do you mean
is it worth a divorce?

I don't want a divorce.
I love you.

That's what I thought.
No, it's only physical.

Physical?

I’m only human,
flesh and blood.

We both are.

You wouldn't think so
from your past performance.

I haven't done so badly.

We've done our duty
by the marriage service,

- if that's what you mean.
- If we'd had a child--

I don't want a child, not now.

I’m over 30 and I want love.

I love you.

Adam, dear,
you're very considerate,

affectionate, domesticated.

I’m very fond of you.

And there's no reason
why we shouldn't continue.

What?

Neither of us wants a divorce.

I need security
and you need looking after.

But to you, the most
important thing

in your life is your work.
What do I have?

So this David is just
a hobby and medicinal pastime.

David is my lover.

I can quite appreciate
that your pride has suffered,

but let's be intelligent
and constructive, shall we?

You expect me
to condone this filth.

It’s a matter of
give and take, that's all.

No.

Adam, whether
you like it or not,

I’m not prepared
to give David up.

It means too much.
I want him.

A bloody gigolo.

David is married
with two children.

He is gentle, passionate
and he knows what he's doing.

- He is not an amateur.
- Oh, for God's sake.

Personally, I think we should
have no trouble in coming

to an arrangement.

You'll manage.

You're my wife.

Yes.

Except in the bedroom.

I’ll do anything.

You could never do anything
except be what you are,

average, safe, suburban.

You always wanted security.

And got it.

Everything about us is safe,
even your job.

Any other local journalist
would have ambition.

Here's you, centre pages.
Double-Crosse...

...two columns
of readers' questions.

My articles get more letters--

Your articles could be
written by Aunt Edna.

Why aren't you covering that?

That's everything you're not.

Positive, basic, masculine!

Why didn't you dare to tackle
something different?

It was you who said no
when I wanted to go freelance.

It was you who was so afraid
of losing your damn security.

I was afraid of you failing.

No, that wasn't
the reason, no...

How could I ever
tell you the truth?

I protected you constantly.

I guided you, taught you,
mothered you like a child.

You smothered me with your
damn need for security.

Everything was done
to make life good for you.

- You never even realised--
- “No children,” you said.

That was the most
difficult sacrifice of all.

I wanted children.

But you couldn't.

I’m going out tonight.

No.

Adam, don't be tiresome.
I’ve said we must be sensible.

Stop it!

I just wanted you to know
where you stand.

Now, I’m going to wash up

and then I’m going
to bake a cake.

It’s a lovely day.

Haven't you any
little jobs to do?

Why don't you clean the car?

Lydia, please--

We'll talk again later,
if you'd like.

The worst is over, really,
isn't it?

Hmm?

Come along.
Out you go.

[door scrapes]

[heartbeat pulsing]

[Lydia's voice]
David...

David...

David...

It’s only physical.

David is my lover.
[engine revs]

Two children...

Children.

He's not an amateur.

[Adam's voice]
You're my wife.

[Lydia's voice]
Not in the bedroom.

[Lydia's voice echoing]

[Lydia]
It’s only physical.

David is my lover.

[Adam's voice]
I wanted children.

[Lydia's voice]
But you couldn't .

You couldn't.

Afraid of failing, darling?

David is my lover.

Positive, basic, masculine.

I’m going out tonight.

[Adam's voice]
No.

[engine running]

[engine continues to run]

[Adam, thinking, distorted, echoing]
Turn on the water.

[engine running]

[heartbeat pulsing]

Yes...

...put her on the front page
where she belongs.

Yes...

...put her on the front page
where she belongs.

[Adam, thinking]
Go on, now, now, now.

[Lydia screams]

[crashing]

[engine revving]

[doorbell rings]

I suppose you know you're
a danger to the community.

Beg your pardon?

Your hose. Your hose is
flooding the footpath.

They don't issue us
with rowing boats, you know.

- Sorry.
- Here.

I’d switch your car off too,
if I was you. Morning.

[male voice reading]
"Dear Adam Crosse,

I did so love
your dignified article

on the first cuckold
in spring. “

[rapid, heavy breathing]

[rustling]

[typewriter clicking]

[faint hissing]

[line ringing]

[man]
Crawfield 0136

Arnold, Adam Crosse here.

Last week's article on the
chemical factory,

I’ve had a letter.

The editorial conference
isn't until Monday.

Let me read it to you.
It’s very short.

“Dear Adam Crosse, your stupid
article on the chemistry set,

I know what they really
make up there.

Come and find out.”

And it's signed, Quilter.

So what? A crank.

Oh, it's crank very likely,

but it would make a lively
follow-up, don't you think?

Maybe.
Is that all?

I was gonna drive up
there this morning.

It’s about 40 miles.

Have a lovely day.

I thought I would get
your sanction for expenses.

For pity's sake, stop being
such an old woman.

Just make it worthwhile.
Goodbye.

[Arnold hangs up]

Thank you, dear Arnold.

Goodbye.

[rustling]

[splashing]

[Lydia's voice, echoing]
But Adam, it's too isolated.

But, Adam, why?
Why come here at all?

Away from all our friends.

I love you, David.

I love you, David.

David... David...

David... David...

[operator]
No fault reported, caller. I’m sorry.

ln that case, operator, would
you put that call through

to Crawfield 1602, please.

Hold the line, please.

[operator dialling]

[line ringing]

[phone beeping]
Hudson speaking.

[coins clattering]

[beeping ceases]

Hudson, old chap.
Adam Crosse here.

Look, I wondered
if you can help me.

I’m out in the country,

a follow-up on last week's
article, yes.

Trouble is I’ve tried phoning
Lydia, there's no reply.

Oh, well. She'll be out
shopping, I expect.

Yes, I suppose so.

What I wanted to ask you was...

...would you go in
and pop into the house

and tell her I’ll be back
as soon as I can?

Awful cheek
to ask you like this,

but I wouldn't want
to worry her.

Of course, I will.
[chuckles]

I thought for a minute
you wanted me to supply

an alibi for you, eh?

You will go in, won't you?

As soon as possible?

[Hudson] Yes, of course.
Now, don't you worry.

Thanks.

[officer over radio]
Proceed to injunction of Elm Street

and Fell Avenue...

[voice breaking]
Yes, it was Lydia.

Sorry to have to ask
you this, Mr. Crosse.

I want to help you.

You must find the man
who did this terrible thing.

Roberts, just see everything
is decent out there, will you?

They've taken her...

Crosse, look, we're only
friends in a way of business,

I know, but if there's
anything I can do.

Find Quilter.

Leave it to us.

He's the killer.
I’m sure of it.

Now we don't know that.

That letter was a trap
and to lure me from the house.

It could be sheer coincidence.

Or even an innocent hoax.

And to send me
on a wild goose chase.

All right, all right.
We'll look into it.

What if there were
some kind of clue?

Not even a footprint.

There was mud and dirt
everywhere at that cottage.

Look, I got it all over me.
[laughing, nervously]

Forensic cleaned up the kitchen
best they could, sir.

Lydia would have
appreciated that.

Thank you.

Not at all.

We'll go now.

If there's any
other information

I can give you,
Chief Inspector.

There is one thing, yeah.

Had your wife started her
cooking when you left?

I can't remember.

She said she was going to do
some baking.

Pity that.

[Adam] Why?

The oven, it kept the room
and the body warm,

makes it difficult to pinpoint
the time of death.

Is that important?

It could be.
Very important.

Oh, well.

We'll see ourselves out.

Take care.

[door closes]

[weeping]

[engine starts up outside]

[continues to weep]

[laughing]

[attempts to contain laughter]

[laughing loudly]

Absent friends.

To David and Lydia.
[doorbell rings]

Oh, Adam.

Dorothy and I wondered
if you--

That isn't the answer,
you know.

What?

Drinking alone,
it's not good.

Come in with us.

Really, Stanley, I’m quite all
right. It’s very kind of you.

Look, Adam,
Dorothy and I,

well, we thought
perhaps you might like a,

well, a meal
or some company

rather than staying here
on your own.

The last thing I want to do is
to bother you--

Adam, it's the least
we can do. Now, please come.

We really do want to help.

- You don't understand.
- Now come along.

- Come on.
- Thank you.

Now, Adam, what I meant was,

well, would you like me
to help organise things,

announcements and so on?

Is there any family to be told?

No.

A lot of people
will miss her.

She was
such a generous-hearted girl.

Darling, I’m trying to be
practical,

not sentimental, please.

Lydia wouldn't have wanted us
to be sentimental.

But you're bound
to get sympathy

from your readers
for a start.

They regard themselves
as your friends, too.

One of those readers
killed Lydia.

I’m afraid
I don't understand, Adam.

I mean, how on earth can--

[Adam]
When I telephoned you this morning,

I told you I was following up
a reader's letter.

A crank I thought,
but probably worth the effort.

That journey was
a wild goose chase...

...designed so that Lydia
would be left on her own.

And you think that
this letter writer--

- I know he did it.
- How dreadful!

You've told the police,
of course.

They have the letter.

It was signed, “Quilter.”

- [Hudson] Quilter?
- Complete stranger,

but he is a murderer,
I’m sure of it.

Of course,
the signature could be a fake.

What?

Well, this crank,
as you put it,

he wouldn't use
his real name, surely?

Quilter killed my wife.

Yes, yes, Adam, yes.
Yes, of course, he did.

You're humouring me,
aren't you, Hudson.

Look, Adam, you've been
through a terrible experience.

Yes, but you don't believe me,
do you?

A fixation brought on by shock,
that's what you're thinking.

- An unreal imagining.
- Adam, please.

What would you know
about it,

middle class, middle-aged,
safe, suburban!

You mustn't torture yourself,
think of Lydia.

Lydia,
she was only physical.

[Hudson]
Adam! Adam!

Look, Adam, please.

Try not to let it get you down.

Oh, yes.
Chin up!

Stiff upper lip.
Tell that to Lydia.

She'd appreciate that.

About time.

Adam Crosse.

Quite a write-up
they've given you, haven't they?

Look, I’m not talking
to the press. Get out!

You'll talk to me.
I’m Quilter.

[heartbeat pulsing]

Hope I haven't
spoiled things for you.

What the hell
are you talking about?

This whole sordid business,
front page, too.

Where you've always
wanted to be.

[Adam] I know your sort.
One of those perverted tormentors.

Oh, for God's sake, Crosse,
spare me the journalism.

I’m Quilter.

I’m going to
telephone the police.

Go ahead.

[dialling]

[line ringing]

I’d like a word with
Chief Inspector Schofield myself

about that alibi of yours.

Oh, it was very clever, your
idea to create an invisible man.

I don't know
what you mean.

But it wasn't very nice,
was it?

Using my name in vain
like that.

I mean, an honest,
upright citizen like me,

think what I could get
in damages.

Using my name as an alibi is as
good as calling me a murderer.

If you're trying
to blackmail me--

No, don't get all
het up, old son.

What do you want?

A look-see at the murder spot,
for a start.

They did a good job of
the cleaning up, haven't they?

- Who?
- Well, the police.

You're pretty forgetful,
aren't you,

for a so called journalist.

No wonder
you're on the slide.

I’ve been through
a terrifying experience.

- Yes, of course, you have.
- My wife has been murdered.

Yes, I know.

Baking a cake,
I gather.

Was it a blood pudding?

[heartbeat pulsing]

[Quilter] Thought you were
made of stronger stuff, Crosse.

You're not such a cool customer
as you look, are you?

- [Adam] Why have you come here?
- I’m curious.

[Quilter chuckles]
And what's so amusing?

It’s all Lydia, isn't it?

It’s as though your personality
never had any significance.

You were dominated.

Inadequate.

But now Lydia's out of the way,
you can change all that.

Or can you?

She was a bitch,
wasn't she?

She was my wife.

Yes, I know.

For better or for worse...

...especially in bed, eh?

- Who the hell are you?
- Have another drink.

- Answer my question.
- Do as you're told!

[Adam]
You've been here before, haven't you?

- Have I?
-You knew Lydia, knew her well.

Not as well as you.

You're David,
you're her lover.

Ah. So that's why
you killed her.

- I didn't.
- Jealousy.

No.

He was better equipped
than you, wasn't he?

Physically.

Were you her lover?

Why, what are you going to do?
Beat me up or thank me?

Oh, you're not
the physical type, just violent.

Stop it!

You've got one of your headaches
coming, haven't you?

- No.
- Oh, how noble.

You masochistic pansy!

You enjoy the pain,
don't you?

It’s got a pulse, a rhythm.
It’s there, isn't it?

Hurt-hurt-hurt.

You are her lover!

I’m not David,
I can't be.

You know that, think about it.

[frantically]
I can't!

[Quilter]
Oh, do I frighten you, then?

Who the hell are you?

Let's just say,
I’m a free agent,

but an interested party.

And I know about you.

Get out of here!
Get out!

Look at you, the complete
suburban superman,

journalist of the year,

front page
of every national daily.

[shattering]
Shut up!

Now, now, I’m not Lydia.

Damn you!

And damn Lydia!

Adam, I was just coming over
to fetch you.

- I can't stop now.
- Oh, now, come on, come on.

Look, you can't stay
in there by yourself.

Come on in with us.

It won't take a minute
to make up a bed.

Perhaps,
a couple of tablets...

[reporter over TV]
If there's any connection between....

...a good night's sleep
and then tomorrow--

Well, tomorrow
you'll feel as right as rain.

[reporter on TV]
...Chief Inspector Schofield...

Any person
who was in the vicinity

at approximately 10:30
this morning

is asked to contact
their nearest police station.

[Lydia's voice]
It’s only physical, Adam.

It’s only physical, Adam.

It’s only physical, Adam.

Adam?

Adam!

[engine starts up]

[car pulls away]

[Quilter]
Think you'd got away with it, Crosse?

[honking]

Easy, does it, old chap.

For God's sake,
stop persecuting me.

But we're just getting
to know each other.

I don't know you.
I don't want to know you.

Oh, but you do. I've been
watching you, Crosse.

You're clever,
you've got a brain,

you've got nerve
and you're subtle, not blatant.

- I like that.
- I know I've got potential.

Of course, you have.

There's an untapped stream
inside you, Crosse, a power,

- creative power.
- You think so?

But it's twisted, Crosse.

Malignant.

- And it's got you trapped.
- No.

You're a prisoner, Crosse.

Lydia's prisoner, even now.

I’m a free man.
I can do what I want.

Can you?

I bet the girls in the office
have got a nickname for you.

“Loo-Loo,” because
you're always on the run.

[woman's voice]
Good morning, Adam.

Hello, Loo-Loo.

Good morning, Loo-Loo.

Have me, Loo-Loo.

[mocking laughter]

[brakes screech]

[woman]
Did you know your car door's open?

Don't you want it closed?

From the inside.
Sit in.

Okay.

- A bit antique, isn't it?
- What?

The car. It's not exactly
Mille Miglia.

It’s a stand-in.

- You getting a new car?
- I wrote off the Jag.

- You getting a new car?
- Dino Coupe.

- Super. I like sports cars.
- And their drivers?

Them, too, if they're nice.

- I can be nice.
- Can you?

Yeah, that sends me.

- What does?
- That smile.

Do you only have
a look at girls' teeth?

The rest of you
looks pretty great, too.

I know.

What would you do
if you found somebody else

in bed with your lover?

Of course, it is his pad.

- Walk out.
- I did.

It’s your life.
Nobody owns you.

Trouble is,
all my things are there.

- I’ve got absolutely nothing.
- You need help.

I need a bed for the night.

That's no trouble.

All right.

- But no strings.
- No. No strings.

A crime of passion?
He's not that type.

His alibi's like
a flaming guided tour.

Everywhere he went,
he either left a trail

or brought back a clue.

There wasn't one minute
he couldn't account for.

You wanted facts.

Oh, no.
It smells all wrong.

Oh, come on.
Look, I know Adam Crosse.

He's a journalist.

Facts are food
and drink to him.

He's trained
to get things right.

And you like him and all,
don't you?

I’ve known him a long time.

You don't reckon on her
having a lover?

Never.

It could happen.

And provide you with a
convenient motive, granted.

But where's your proof?

I just don't see
why you're so sure it's not him.

Look, I told you,
he's clever, precise,

a bit dry,
not wild or passionate.

He's just a good,
solid, suburban citizen

who lives by the rules.

I mean, just look at the killing.
Crosse couldn't do it.

Not that way.

- Perhaps not.
- So what's left?

A brutal bloody murder
in a kitchen.

But he doesn't fit
the Kitchen Killer type.

Tell that to the victim.

I thought you said
you were a writer.

- I am.
- Here?

Writers live in houses, too,
you know.

I know.
You're a journalist.

- Admit it.
- What if I am?

I know about journalists.

Well then--

Look, I’m not
ten minute Tallulah.

You're absolutely gorgeous.

Well, don't get
a muck sweat on.

There's a good chap.

And besides,
think of the neighbours.

It’s us that's important.

Oh, darling, this thing
is bigger than both of us.

I’m serious.

I’m Joanne.

We haven't been introduced,
have we?

Adam.

So this is the Garden of Eden?

Imagine an angel
with a flaming sword

ever coming here.

You'd make it look
like a palace.

Do you talk like that
to your wife?

It’s no wonder
she isn't home.

Does that bother you?

Why?
Did you fancy a threesome?

How do you mean?

Oh, Adam,
you absolute goof.

It’s all right.

I am not butch
and I don't welsh.

- If you only knew.
- I do know.

- You want me.
- Yes.

- Then don't be clumsy.
- I’m sorry.

And don't be such a creep.

Be a man.
Not yet.

I want to be pampered.

- Anything.
- A shower?

- Upstairs.
- I’ll find it.

- I’ll put a record on.
- Super.

And I’ll have
a large Scotch with ice,

and a big cheesy sandwich.

And then,

if you're lucky.

[doorbell rings]

Who is it?

- What do you want?
- Adam, it's me, Stanley.

I wondered if you'd like
to come out for a short stroll,

- blow away the cobwebs.
- No.

Just as you like, but...

Shall I come in
and sit with you for a while,

share a small nightcap, eh?

- No, I'm all right.
- Look, Adam.

Adam, Dorothy and I, well,
we're very concerned about you.

Sleep at our house,
just for tonight.

No, go away.

[Quilter]
You dirty old lecher.

[heartbeat pulsing]

Nearly got caught out,
didn't you?

[chuckles]

Oh, she's a delightful piece,
Crosse.

Skin like a peach.

And did you see the way
the body moved under the dress?

Mother naked and so young.

Get out!

You're going to
need some help...

Someone who can do the job
satisfactorily.

Just as well I’m here.

It’s going to be fun,
the three of us.

- You're not staying here.
- Oh, but I am, old chap,

brought my toothbrush
and towel. See?

It’s going in the street
this minute...

...and you with it!

You can't frighten me!

Adam.

Lydia.

I’m Joanne, remember?

Is it all ready and super?

Don't let's--

I’m not going to bed yet.
I want a drink!

I know, you've got a surprise
in there for me.

Seduction City.

What a trip.

- The record.
- Where's the bloody drink?

[record plays]

[Joanne laughs loudly]

- Oh, it's too much.
- I’m sorry.

I’m sorry, Joanne.

Oh, it's great!

It’s a real suburban orgy.

Where did you get
the snake, Adam?

Under the settee, along with
all your porny picture books

and your inflatable,
plastic wife?

I know everything's
gone wrong, but--

That's all part of the game,
isn't it?

Did you ever manage
to make your wife, Adam?

Look at you,

middle-aged peeping Tom

who likes to
tickle little girls.

Strip show Johnny.

Did you ever dare
to look at your wife naked?

I want you.

Of course, darling,
but could you do anything?

You'd probably
need permission first.

I’m not an amateur!

Oh, a specialist.

What in?
Dirty daydreams?

No.

What I want is real.

But it has to be kinky?

Different?

Is that it?

No.

- Then rape me.
- I only want to love you.

Oh, God!

Why do suburban men
have to be so useless!

[Lydia's voice] David is my lover.
He knows what he's doing.

Do you know
what action is?

What have you done
with your pretty little life,

except eat and sleep
and fornicate?

You still live inside the rules,
but I dare to break them.

Twelve hours ago,
I disposed of my wife.

She was slowly destroying me,
like you,

trying to cripple my mind,
rejecting me,

but I liberated myself.
I killed her.

I was only playing.

You can't escape me.
No one can.

You are a victim.

[clattering, fumbling]

[heartbeat pulsing]

[door slams]

Don't leave me!
Please don't leave me!

[Quilter] You poor fool.

Now you've done it.

Given the game away completely,
haven't you?

I haven't done anything.

Tell that to the police.

They'll be here very soon.

She wouldn't tell them.

Lydia wouldn't tell them.

She was always so loyal.

She'll come back,
she'll stay.

[Quilter]
Lydia's gone.

Gone for good.

But I’m here.

I’ll look after you.

Let me go!

You pathetic creature.

Can you feel the pain now?

The memories, aching
and bleeding like Lydia's head?

And you, Lydia's cuckold,
that girl’s plaything,

broken, spineless.

My head!

All right,
thanks very much.

That's Sergeant Flash
from the Yard.

They've picked up
the Kitchen Killer bloke.

Been holding him in custody
since this morning in Liverpool.

I want to report
an attempted murder.

She'll come back!

No, Crosse.

Lydia's dead.
The girl’s gone.

There's no escape
from the pain.

Don't hurt me.
Please, don't hurt me.

It’s too late
to ask for mercy.

Help me, please.

After what you did?

- I loved her.
- Look at her face.

You needed Lydia,
yet, you killed her.

You needed the girl,
yet, you drove her away.

But I’m here
and I know what you are.

For God's sake,
give me peace!

Useless old queer.

Poor, poor Adam.

Murderer.

You are not an amateur,
darling.

It’s only physical.

Have me, Adam, murderer.

She'd let you, Crosse,
in the kitchen.

Take her in the kitchen,
go on.

It’s a blood pudding, dear.

Adam, you can do it.

Adam, you can do it.

Come on.

Make it here.

[Lydia's voice]
Lovely day. Such a lovely day.

Anything to do?
Any little jobs to do?

Why did you kill Lydia?

She loved you.

I’m not finished yet.

What is there left?

Only the shadows
in your mind

and the refuge
of an asylum.

- I can kill you!
- Can you?

But I don't exist

and you realise that your sense
of guilt created me.

There's only one way
you can get rid of me.

[Quilter]
I am you!

[siren wailing]

[Quilter]
I am you.

I am you.

Self-inflicted, definitely.