Original subtitles

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

We found fingerprints on the gas can,

but no match...

which means it was someone with no police record.

No record?

What happened to your face?

I had an accident.

Why would Stern go through all this mess,

maybe even kill someone,

just to protect Luther?

I'm still trying to figure that part out.

Fuckin' redneck!

These are all his paintings?

Your brother, he, uh, he had a thing for blondes?

Oh, my God!

Luther, you scared me! Jeez...

The results are in.

The handwriting on the manuscript

is Luther Caleb's.

Check your email.

What the hell is this?

Nola's mother died in 1966,

nine years before Nola disappeared.

She was beaten by a dead woman.

Your book is a pile of crap.

The night of the fire

did not go quite the way

David Kellergan told the police.

I gotta tell you something.

Mommy was in our bedroom when the fire happened.

I know.

She was wicked.

She needed to be dead,

so I put the curtains on fire.

That little girl

started to believe that she herself was her mother.

She was punishing herself,

whipping herself,

plunging her head into a bath of icy water...

Her father couldn't take any more,

so he decided to move them both far away.

Get a warrant,

or get off my property.

I think you should let us in, Reverend.

It's better if we can all come inside

and talk calmly.

Yeah, We know about what happened in Alabama

in 1966.

We know about the fire.

You know nothing.

We talked to Pastor Lewis.

Why didn't you try to get her help?

See a doctor?

I was afraid.

I was afraid they'd take her away

and lock her up.

And so you had him...

you had him exorcise her?

I had no choice.

Pastor Lewis said I had to,

or he'd tell the police what she'd done.

It only made my poor sweet girl sicker.

She started punishing herself...

as her mother.

And so you left Alabama,

hoping the move would wipe the slate clean.

Mm-hm.

And it did at first.

The outbursts were less frequent.

Her memory of the whole thing seemed to be fading...

Till the summer Harry Quebert appeared.

That's when she started having violent fits again.

At the time, I didn't know why.

It was a horrible sight

to see her do that to herself.

You know why I'm doing this...

So that I can go to heaven.

You wanna be an angel, don't you?

I'm sorry I'm a wicked girl.

You're not wicked.

Penance is a blessing.

No, Mother!

No, Mother, please!

Please, Mother, no!

No!

She started reliving her exorcism.

What happened on that day she disappeared?

On August 30th?

The anniversary of the fire.

Of Louisa's death.

She had a terrible fit.

One of the worst ever.

I tried to calm her,

but nothing worked,

so I...

I hid out in the garage, and I...

worked on the damn motorcycle.

I turned up the music as loud as it would go.

Later,

when I went into her room,

she wasn't there.

Do you have any idea

what triggered such a violent fit?

I found a letter on her bed.

A break-up letter.

You never told us about any letter.

What should I have done?

Nola! Nola?

She was carrying on an illicit romance

with I didn't know who.

But the writing...

it wasn't any teenage boy.

I couldn't let the whole town think

my little girl was some kind of slut!

I found these after she disappeared...

under a loose floorboard.

They're not stamped.

He must've hand-delivered them.

They're all from Harry Quebert.

They're all the letters in his book,

"The Origin of Evil."

This was the last one.

The one she received the day that broke her heart.

May I?

"My darling...

this is my final letter,

a painful last embrace before parting.

Lovers separate

and never find each other again,

and that is how love stories end.

But we who have loved not with our eyes

but with our souls

can never truly be separated.

I loved you against all hope,

against all reason, against all promise.

You will be with me always,

the last dream of my soul.

H."

It's the end of "The Origin of Evil."

It's the final page.

How long have you known

that Nola and Harry were corresponding?

Only the past few weeks.

I just recently bought a copy of the book.

I needed to read it...

to try and understand.

When those letters appeared,

I...

I knew I'd seen them before,

and that's when I made the discovery.

For the past 33 years,

I've wondered who wrote those letters to my daughter...

and all that time,

the answer was just sitting in every bookstore in America.

I can't believe it.

He wasn't waiting for her at the motel,

like he said.

He'd written her a breakup letter.

Son of a bitch.

He never intended to elope with her.

So where'd he go, then?

Why would he lie?

Harry's cellphone is cut off.

No activity on his credit card.

Okay.

Okay, let me just...

Just walk through this with me.

So, he leaves a letter for her in her mailbox, right?

The day before their... their supposed elopement,

right before he skips town. Right?

Mm-hm.

She finds it in the morning,

and she reads it, and she breaks down.

Right? She has a fit.

She starts punishing herself.

Okay, Dad...

Dad locks himself in the garage...

And then what? Where is...

Where is she going when she climbs out the window?

To confront Harry.

But on the way, she runs into Luther,

and everything goes wrong.

Okay, but then why does Harry come back to Sommerdale

the day after she disappears?

When he hears about it on the news, he panics.

Mm-hm.

That letter would be incriminating.

Plus he has real feelings for her,

which makes it all the more complicated.

Yeah. We, uh...

we gotta go find him.

I don't think that's possible.

Border patrol records have him crossing into Canada

at Derby Line, Vermont.

Huh...

In the unpublished manuscript

that we found in his locker,

"The Seagulls of Sommerdale,"

he ends up in Canada with Nola, remember?

I mean, I still don't get it.

The charges have been dropped, so...

what the hell is he running from?

The crowd behind us

is basically shoulder to shoulder,

with people standing all the way up,

all the way through to the Capitol,

and now we're seeing the President...

Ladies and gentlemen,

the president of the United States,

Barack H. Obama.

Hi!

Sorry I'm late.

Oh, my God...

It's like those pictures of VJ Day.

Like in World War II?

Everyone is so happy,

and so full of hope and pride.

It's... it's like they can't believe

they actually did it!

Oh, I got you a mug.

Thanks.

Can you put some coffee in it?

Absolutely.

You know, it's days like these

that you regain faith in humanity.

It's like we're evolving.

We're getting better as a species.

Yeah? Well, let's, uh...

let's see if he turns out to be

who he says he is.

That's weird,

coming from his number-one fan.

Well, no, I mean,

you never really know a person, do you?

You look up to someone,

admire his... integrity,

his intelligence,

and then one day,

you discover he's betrayed you,

and that it was all a lie.

You have any idea how shitty that feels?

I walked in on my husband in bed with my best friend.

We had gone to the Hamptons

for the weekend

with my best friend and her husband,

and on that Saturday afternoon,

my husband said he wasn't feeling that well,

so I... went into town by myself.

But it started to rain, so I came back,

and I found my husband on top of my best friend.

Oh, my God.

What did you do?

Nothing.

They didn't see me, so I...

turned around and left, and I went for another walk.

When I came back,

I found him in the hotel bar,

drinking with my best friend's husband,

and...

that night, we all had dinner together.

Well, did you...

did you divorce him?

No.

He left me.

For her.

Is there anything else I can get you?

Uh, no. Thanks, Denise.

Okay.

This is a one-woman horror show here.

Daughter kills Mommy,

then she becomes her,

then she starts beating herself silly?

I mean, this out-psychos "Psycho."

Yeah, but the whole infantile psychosis thing

is, uh... it's funky.

You know, I just...

I think there's still too many missing pieces.

Okay? Just with Harry disappearing, and these...

these cryptic messages, this unpublished manuscript...

Which would make a fabulous prequel, by the way.

Yeah, you're missing the point, Roy...

No, no, no, no, no.

No, no, you're missing the point.

This childhood madness, this is a godsend.

We'll put out a press release

saying we knew about this from the beginning,

but that you decided to tell the truth

to demonstrate that reality

is never what it seems.

Now we're talking Pulitzer.

Look, just give me a week.

Give me one week to dig a little deeper

before you put out a press release, okay?

Fine.

Thank you.

One week.

We'll call you back.

Did you know you ran a red light back there?

Uh...

And you were speeding?

Uh, well, sorry. I...

License and registration.

Yeah, just a second.

Uh...

What happened to your face?

Have you been drinking, sir?

Huh?

What?

Sergeant Gahalowood?

This is Officer Forsyth from, uh...

Montburry County.

Sorry to disturb you at this hour, but, um...

we have somebody in custody here

that I think you'll be interested in.

Hello?

Met our firebug.

I'm sorry, what?

The arsonist who set fire to Harry's house

was arrested tonight.

Montburry police matched the prints

from a traffic stop.

Who is it?

Are you sitting down?

I'm, uh...

I'm lying down, actually.

Good.

Less of a fall when you hear who it is.

Thank you.

You look like shit.

Yeah, thanks.

Are you sure you got the right guy?

'cause I can't see it...

Fingerprints matched the ones on the gas can.

So that means he sent all those messages too.

Seems like it.

Oh, man...

But what's... what's his motive?

I wish I knew.

He's refusing to talk.

And the trouble is,

Quinn's lawyer's claiming

that he found the gas can on the beach that night.

Oh yeah?

Yeah.

He was out for a walk.

Picked it up,

threw it in the bushes.

I have spent the morning

on the phone with the governor

and a slew of goddamn reporters.

They all want my head.

I'm Marcus Goldman. I wrote the...

Yeah, I know what you wrote.

It can't go on like this, Perry.

The DA and the governor want this case closed.

We just arrested Robert Quinn

last night. I need some time...

First it was Quebert.

Then it was Caleb,

then the father,

and now it's this Quinn guy?

You change perps more often than your underwear.

If you could just give me a few...

24 hours. That's it!

Tomorrow. 5:00.

You come to my office and you tell me officially

the Kellergan case is closed.

Great, we're on our way.

Yeah, we'll see you there.

Hey, Roy, now is not a good time.

Well, I'll just assume you'll meet me tomorrow

at 5:00, my office, for your big press launch.

Listen, I can't, okay?

We just got a new lead. It's, uh, it's...

you're gonna have to hold 'em off a bit longer.

Disappoint the cognoscenti?

They'll tear you to pieces like a pack of wild dogs.

Not exactly the liftoff your book deserves.

Tomorrow afternoon.

Don't be late.

I'm speaking to the press tomorrow at 5:00.

All right.

So at 5:00 tomorrow,

we'll both have officially fucked up.

I still can't believe it.

Maybe he really did

just find the gas can while he was walking.

Does your father-in-law

usually take late-night walks by Goose Cove

without telling anyone?

How are Jenny and Mrs. Quinn?

They're in shock.

Tamara said she didn't even know

he'd gone out last night.

She was dead asleep.

Do you think that...

No, I don't think anything,

but I, uh...

I found this...

It was in a... a box of family photos

that Jenny keeps at our house.

Check the back.

So he owned a black Monte Carlo?

Well, why didn't Pratt...

No, Jenny said

her father wanted to buy a new car that summer,

and would often take different models for test drives.

Bobbo would never...

but he was...

acting a little strange...

last night.

He, uh...

kept asking me to drink this cup of tea.

Just drink it, honey bunny.

Look, I don't want any tea.

Drink it for Bobbo.

I'm not British, for God's sakes.

It's a diuretic. It'll do you good.

And I was... feeling a little bloated,

so I drank it.

And then...

I fell asleep like a dead person.

What time was that?

I...

guess it was...

around 11:00.

Yeah, 'cause...

Law & Order was playing.

And then...

the next thing I know, it was morning,

and then...

the police were knocking at the door.

Mrs. Quinn, is it true

that your husband was thinking about buying

a Chevrolet Monte Carlo during the summer of '75?

Uh, yeah.

I think so.

Until I told him

that I...

I thought it made him look like a pimp.

But I just can't...

believe that he would ever do that.

He could never do anything

to harm that girl.

Do you understand?

He's a kind man.

Honey, I'm gonna be sick.

I'm sorry, this has...

all been a little hard for us to digest.

Yeah, this is the spot.

It's right here.

Guy drove out like a bat outta hell.

That's the road that leads to Montburry Lake.

What are we looking for, Sergeant?

A weapon, personal effects,

anything that can tie our suspect

to the Kellergan case.

You realize this lake is a dumping ground, right?

So if you could be a little more precise?

Near the shore.

Focus on the marsh over here.

The suspect was covered in mud.

He had a scratch on his face,

probably caused by a low branch.

I'm guessing he was trying to hide

whatever it was

where no one would look for it.

All right.

Hello?

You find anything?

Uh, no, sir, not yet.

We've got a press conference at 5:00.

Show up with some definitive proof,

or you can take your sorry ass to Canada

and join the goddamn Mounties.

He says hi.

Over here!

Sergeant!

Over here!

Sergeant!

They got something.

We found a handgun

and a necklace with Nola's name on it

in Montburry Lake.

Any idea how they got there, Mr. Quinn?

The, uh, black Monte Carlo at the scene of the crime,

that was yours all along, wasn't it?

A loaner car,

uh, you were conveniently test-driving

during the time of Nola's disappearance.

It couldn't be traced to you 'cause...

you didn't own it.

It's clever.

Except you got yourself photographed next to it.

Mm-hm.

Yeah.

Game over, Mr. Quinn.

Why'd you kill Nola Kellergan

and Deborah Cooper?

I don't know.

It was an accident.

I saw her, Nola...

walking by the side of the road,

so I, uh, I offered her a ride.

She thanked me for stopping, and got in.

And we drove...

for a few minutes, and then...

I just felt so lonely.

And she was so beautiful.

So friendly.

I wanted to touch her.

Just to stroke her hair.

But she... she panicked and started to scream.

I-I stopped the car to calm her down,

and she got out,

started running into the woods.

I had to catch her so she wouldn't tell anyone.

Then she went to Deborah Cooper's place.

I didn't want to hurt 'em,

but...

they would've talked.

Chief Dawn.

Travis, your father-in-law just signed a full confession.

Okay.

There'll be a press conference at 5:00.

News will spread quickly.

I, uh, I didn't want you or your wife or Mrs. Quinn

to have to find out secondhand.

Thank you, Sergeant.

If you could make it up to Augusta,

clear up a couple of things about Mr. Quinn,

I prefer not to inflict any more pain

on his wife or daughter.

Of course.

Look, I'm on duty at the moment.

There's been a car accident, and they're waiting for me,

and I should talk to Jenny first.

Can I come by tomorrow?

Yeah. Yeah, tomorrow works.

Yeah, no rush, man.

Thanks again, Sergeant.

I wouldn't wanna be there for that conversation,

telling Jenny.

I think this calls for a little celebrating, huh?

Really?

Yeah.

This one's on me.

You sure you don't want anything else?

I'm good, I'm good.

Come on, man, get a donut.

I got you.

I'm good.

Oh, God.

Well, I'm not making it back to Manhattan by 5:00.

You're not gonna be in any trouble?

No.

No, as soon as my publisher finds out

I'm helping the Maine State Police,

he'll find a way to spin it into more book sales.

Right.

Oh, this is probably

about my 5:00 press conference.

Hello?

Uh, can it wait?

Okay.

Okay, we'll be there in, uh, 20 minutes.

All right.

That didn't sound like Chief Lansdane.

Yeah, that was Elijah Stern's partner, Bo Sylford.

He wants us to come over.

Bo Sylford?

What the hell is that about?

We've been fighting constantly

since we last saw you, Sergeant.

There's things that, uh, he hasn't told you

that need to be said.

Please.

I'm afraid I haven't been

completely forthright with you, Sergeant.

Directly or indirectly,

I am responsible for Nola Kellergan's death.

Mr. Stern, if you're trying to protect

Luther Caleb,

there's no need.

We have a confession from someone else.

Luther's name's already been cleared.

But mine's not.

You know that Luther was obsessed

with Miss Kellergan?

We do.

But you don't know the extent

of that obsession.

He would sneak off to Sommerdale

to watch her with Harry.

Day after day,

he'd report to me what they'd done,

what they'd said, where they'd gone.

He...

experienced love

vicariously through them.

It became such a preoccupation that I rarely saw him.

I had to drive myself to my meetings.

Why didn't you fire him?

Because you were in love with him?

Because I was in his debt.

Luther.

Luther?

The situation had deteriorated so badly that...

Luther was beaten up by a policeman

for vagrancy.

A waitress had apparently

filed a complaint against him...

You will not go back to Sommerdale again.

I forbid it.

But I must...

I must go.

I want you to go home, back to Massachusetts.

Just for a while.

You don't understand...

Just to get that girl out of your system.

You don't understand. You don't understand!

You don't understand!

You...

They're running away.

In ten days, on the 30th,

they will be gone,

and they will never come back.

And then, on August 29th...

Luther disappeared.

His blue Mustang was in its usual place,

but I soon discovered

that one of my cars was gone.

A black Monte Carlo.

He'd been asking to borrow it

because his blue Mustang had become too recognizable.

I'd said no, of course.

I was furious.

And worried...

If he was capable of that kind of subterfuge...

what else was he hiding?

And that's when I found them...

the letters that he'd stolen.

The letters between Harry and Nola.

What the hell have you done?

Don't touch those, they're private.

What the hell have you done?

Leave that poor girl alone!

You fuckin' redneck!

You fuckin' redneck!

Elijah...

That night, it was you.

It was you.

And so he left.

He took the Monte Carlo, and he left.

I never saw him again.

He'd recognized my voice, you see.

When I was younger...

I would...

meet up with some of my college friends,

a kind of fraternity, I guess you'd call it,

and we'd go away for weekends,

stay in expensive hotels,

drink,

act like the arrogant, entitled monsters that we were.

We were desperate to prove to ourselves

that we were powerful.

Hey! Let's get this one!

Whoo! Yeah!

Hey, redneck!

Where you going?

And he is down on the 20-yard line!

Oh!

Come on, hit him! Boom!

All right, should we go for the field goal?

You're up.

Show us what you got. Let's go.

You fucking redneck!

Oh!

Come on, let's go!

All right, he had enough.

Whoo!

It was in all the papers.

The police never found the culprits.

But I knew,

and...

was sickened by what I'd done.

A few years later,

I tracked him down, and...

stuck a nail in my tire, asked him if he could fix it.

I'm sorry to disturb you, but I seem to have a flat tire.

I offered him a job,

and he took it.

But he wasn't happy.

I gave him money,

a car...

I built him an artist's studio...

but nothing could assuage my guilt.

The servants were afraid of him.

He had no friends,

no girlfriends.

The only thing he could do with a woman, he said,

was to paint her.

So...

I bought him some.

Blondes.

Mostly...

strawberry blondes...

like his fiancée.

Then he met Nola

and fell in love with her,

the first time he'd ever fallen in love

since... the accident.

Then Harry turns up,

brilliant,

handsome,

and of course,

Nola fell in love with him.

And so Luther decided he would live through Harry.

Love through Harry.

When Nola disappeared,

and it was announced

that the suspect was driving a black Monte Carlo,

you can imagine what I thought.

Uh-huh, but you kept quiet.

Yes,

so he'd never be suspected.

I knew...

whatever he'd done,

I drove him to it.

What does all this have to do with Robert Quinn

and Nola's murder?

I guess just that it's a huge coincidence,

that, uh, Luther, Stern, Harry, and Mr. Quinn

all drove black Monte Carlos in the summer of '75.

Like, maybe it was a popular car.

A lot of coincidences.

Yeah.

Here's another one.

Quinn said he saw Nola Kellergan by chance

while he was driving, right?

Right.

Why did he have a gun with him?

What year was Watergate?

Uh... 1974. Why?

Look at the newspaper box behind him.

I can't... Give me the...

See it?

Nixon resigned in August, 1974.

There is no way

that that photo was taken in August, 1975.

Holy shit!

Who are you protecting?

You test-drove a black Monte Carlo in '74,

not '75.

You're protecting someone, and I wanna know who.

Huh?

Your wife? Daughter?

Fine.

We'll bring them both in for questioning,

and keep them here until we get some answers.

Are you sure you wanna subject them to that?

Who are you calling?

Travis.

I need his help getting Quinn to talk.

Damn it!

He's not picking up.

Hey, it's Sergeant Gahalowood, Maine State Police.

I need to talk to Chief Dawn right away, please.

No, I tried his cell. He's not answering.

Can you radio him? It's important.

Wait, what do...

What do you mean, he's not on duty today?

I talked to him earlier.

No, he told me he was investigating a car accident.

Hey!

Issue an APB on Sommerdale Police Chief Travis Dawn!

And I want roadblocks along state lines.

Now!

Excuse me. Could we...?

Oh, for God's sake, Marcus.

Just bear with me, okay?

I don't know how you're gonna hear anything in here.

Okay, go for it.

Okay, um...

So, when you get to the end of your novel...

Mm-hmm.

You wanna make sure you give your readers

one last twist.

Thank you.

One last twist?

Yes, you wanna...

you wanna keep 'em on tenterhooks

until the very end.

Uh-huh.

It's like cards.

So you wanna keep your trump card

till the very last round.

Okay.

Keep your trump card until the very last round.

Cheers.

Cheers. Cheers.

Cheers to that, Professor Quebert.

Good afternoon.

Afternoon.

Is this a special vacation for the two of you?

Yeah, it is.

It's... anniversary.

Oh, lovely.

If you could wait one moment,

I... just need to check something about your seats.

I don't like this, Travis.