Original subtitles

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.

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.

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 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.

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 1000.

I guess time fucking flies

when you're having this much fun?

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, 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...

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!

Do you understand?

I don't wanna!

- Take it off! - No!

Don't make me!

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...

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?

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?

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.

And there she is, our little Olga Korbut.

So much talent.

Yes.

God, not the photo albums.

It must be boring you to tears.

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.

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.

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

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...

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-and a Tab?

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.

My God, I was so hungry.

I guess funny movies really give me an appetite.

I just love Inspector Clouseau,

don't you?

"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.

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, did you go out somewhere fancy?

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... that's right.

Mom, this is Marcus Goldman.

He's a well-known writer now.

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.

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

Is everyone here okay

with your welcome cocktails?

It's our third one.

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,

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.

Reverend.

I, 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.

She... she had a headache,

and she picked up the wrong medicine.

Well, that makes sense.

Well, please give her, my regards.

Very good of you.

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

She shouldn't have too many visitors right now.

I'm sure you understand.

Yes, of course.

Did you ever find out where he was?

Seducing some other teenaged girl,

for all I know.

And my Jenny...

was destroyed.

Devastated.

That's right...

Quebert?

Quebert!

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,

do you know someone named Elijah Stern?

Of course.

He funds the gala,

and, like, a million other things.

He also, 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?

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...

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-22 there, isn't it?

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...

My father built the house.

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

Sommerdale's a pretty little town.

So, just, 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.

My god.

Thank you.