All language subtitles for The Pretender - 3x09 - Murder 101

What?

How well do you know your father?

Better than you know yours.

Yes. Well, I'm
working on that one.

Why the call, Jarod?

You and your father are close.
But how close?

Does he share important things
with you?

Would he tell you about
the big developments in his life?

I'd be insanely optimistic to think this little
quiz show had a bonus round, wouldn't I?

- Check your mail, Miss Parker.
- Why?

Because we all
have a lot to learn.

Including me.
Gotta go.

Don't wanna be late
for my first day of school.

Jarod-

What did he have to say?

A lot less than he knows,
that's for sure.

Miss Parker?

It's a copy of a letter to my father
from his attorney.

He's changing his will.

- Hmm.
- Miss Parker.

Statistician from the
Brooksberry field office.

Swears she saw Jarod
on her lunch break.

Call Brooksberry.
Get a local Sweeper team moving... now.

Okay.

Well, well, well,
the Vanguard Program.

The finest minds at the university.

I'll have to do my best to keep up.

Welcome... to graduate class 523-

Psychology of the Criminal Mind.

I'm your new professor,
Dr. Gardner.

But please, call me Jarod.

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

There are Pretenders among us.

I was taken from my family.

36 hours and he's already demonstrating
more talent than any of our others.

How many people died
because of what I thought up?

Since I broke out, I've spent
every moment searching for my past.

He's a Pretender-

A genius who can become
anyone that he wants to be.

- The Centre wants him alive.
- Preferably.

He defends the weak and abused.

Life's a gift.

- You a doctor?
- I am today.

- Somebody get some help!
- Call 911!

- You can cancel that call.
- What?

I may be a little sticky,
but otherwise I'm just fine.

Oh, the gunmen.

They were some drama students
that I recruited.

And the shots? Blanks.

I assume there's a point to scaring
the hell out of us like that.

Oh, yes, sir.
There's absolutely a point.

I'm the cop. You're the witness.
Describe the gunman to me.

- Tall, dark suit.
- How tall? How dark?

- Uh-
- "Uh" doesn't cut it. I need details.

What color hair did he have?

Brown. Maybe a little reddish.

- No, it was blond.
- Straight or wavy?

- Straight.
- Wavy.

Any distinguishing features?
Scars? Facial hair?

- What kind of shoes was he wearing?
- Shoes?

All I saw was the gun.
I couldn't even tell you if the guy had feet.

This is a highly charged situation.

Your adrenaline is pumping.

Here's my point.

That even the most brilliant minds...
can miss a thing or two.

Speak for yourself.

Your killer, Jarod,
was a white male, 6'1 ", 170.

He had straight
brown hair. Blond,

if you count the cheesy
shampooed-in highlights.

And except for the played-out 90210
sideburns, he was clean shaven.

Clothing-wise, and that's where
the real crime was committed.

He wore an off-the-rack
J.C. Penny special, charcoal gray,

with lapels that screamed Bush administration.

Oh, and start your manhunt
in the Financial Aid office,

because nobody with even
10 bucks in their pockets

would be seen wearing those shoes.

Very good, Miss-

- Dunning, Claire.
- Ah, yes.

Top of the Vanguard class.

Grady and Matthew here were close,
but, uh, no cigar though.

Well, even with their vast intellect,
it would be pretty difficult...

to keep up with someone
who joined Mensa at age 13.

I'm kinda curious as to
your qualifications, Doc.

Well, you frame a couple of diplomas,
you slap your name on a few dissertations

and voilà
people think you're a genius.

So, what kind of genius surprises
are we in for next?

Something that will help us
delve into the criminal mind.

This class has been put on hold
since your last professor

Alden Clark, disappeared.

Now, I thought,
wouldn't it be provocative

if we all solved the mystery
of his disappearance?

He cleaned out his bank account
and ran off with his mistress.

Maybe. Maybe not.

This is Professor Clark's book...

The Perfect Murder.

Now, what if Professor Clark
didn't run off with his mistress?

What if, for argument's sake, that
he himself was the victim of...

the perfect murder.

- If murder were legal, Broots?
- Huh?

Your tip on Jarod?
False alarm.

Sweeper team came up empty.

Oh, well, that-

Oh, I see, so kill the messenger?

Well, that's your first
usable idea in weeks.

Broots, do you know who that man
speaking with my father is?

Yeah, he's a doctor.
I just rode up with him on the elevator.

- Doctor?
- Yeah.

- Changing his will.
- Huh?

Something the matter, Miss Parker?

There you go.

Mrs. Clark.

If you're another bill collector,
you can save your breath.

Not even the house
is mine anymore.

Actually, my name
is Jarod Gardner.

I'm taking over your husband's classes
at the university.

I'm sorry. I've been meaning to stop by
and clear his things out of the office.

I just haven't been able
to bring myself to do it yet.

I understand.

Hi.

They're so fragile
and so innocent.

Yet, with one look,
they can help you through anything.

Why are you here, Dr. Gardner?

To help.

Alden and I used to dream about
the day our children would...

run around this yard.

It must be very difficult to be
the only one who still believes in him.

It's been a year now.

I don't have any illusions that my husband
is suddenly gonna walk back into my life,

but I need answers.

I need something to tell our child, other than his father ran off with his girlfriend.

Alden and I had
a very difficult time getting pregnant.

There was so much heartbreak.

He wanted this baby so badly.

There is no way he would have
missed his son's birth if he were still alive.

The harsh reality is he left her.
Alden Clark was having an affair.

I found e-mail on his computer from his
mistress, fantasies, plans for running away.

None of it G-rated.

Plus, he withdrew every last cent from
their account the day he left.

He had a baby on the way.
It doesn't make any sense.

Look, I feel for Mrs. Clark
and her child,

but sooner or later
she needs to face the facts.

No body, no sign of foul play.
The man walked out.

Now, Dr. Gardner, it's only natural to want
the facts about the man you're replacing,

but I have 25 real cases to handle.

That's my harsh reality.

Excuse me.

So, you want to commit the perfect murder.

How do you go about it?

Well?

Oh, come on.
Use those brilliant minds of yours.

Become a killer.

A sociopath.

Someone without compassion,
without a conscience.

This is sick. We're talking about Professor
Clark here. We should just leave it alone.

No, I think we can stand
to learn a great deal from this.

So I'm asking that you
play along with me.

Well, I'm willing to go along with any game
you wanna play, Jarod.

At the risk of sounding
like Claire, I'm in.

- I'm in. - Me too.
- Good.

Then let's begin.

Name all the ways
that you can kill someone.

- Stabbing.
- Stabbing.

- Shooting.
- Shooting. Very good.

- Suffocation.
- Suffocation.

There certainly are
a lot of ways to kill somebody.

But you still have to
deal with the body.

- I'd bury it out in the woods somewhere.
- It's too risky.

You hear stories all the time
about some hiker stumbling over a stiff.

It'd be smarter to make
the perfect murder look like a suicide.

You still end up with an investigation.
If it's not flawless, you're screwed.

So how would you deal
with it, Claire?

The perfect murder isn't a murder.
It's an accident.

- Hmm.
- She's right. Plausible deniability.

Make it look like an accident. Something
that fits into the victim's daily routine.

If we're talking about Dr. Clark,
how about on the road up to his cabin?

His cabin?

Yeah, he had a cabin. He used to go up there
in the mountains after school on Fridays.

And he did disappear on a Friday.

Lately Jarod's been bored.

We must find better ways
to engage his intellect.

Keep a brilliant mind
from becoming idle.

Sydney, I can't do these anymore.

These same problems,
they're so monotonous.

What are they doing?

They're just working on
a new security system.

Come on, Jarod.
Back to work.

- Hello.
- Jarod, I just got your message.

Alden wasn't headed to the cabin
the day he vanished.

The students told me that he headed up
to his cabin every Friday night to write.

Well, he planned to go, but that was
the Friday I found out I was pregnant.

I called him at school, and he said
he was coming right home to celebrate.

That's the last time
I spoke to him.

So, the police never searched
the road up to your cabin.

No. No, they didn't.

We can use another flare over here, please.

Mark it off.

(We'll) be right there.

- You get around, Professor Gardner.
- I just heard what happened.

Got a call from
an anonymous motorist.

Guy stopped. Let his dog take a leak.
Glanced down, spied the wreck.

- Hmm.
- Kinda feel for Mrs. Clark.

It just goes from
bad to worse for her.

She told me he wasn't headed up here
the day he disappeared.

That doesn't surprise me.
Especially finding these in the car.

Plane tickets.

Mazatlán. One for Clark,
the other issued to a Karen Sweet.

- We found these in the glove box.
- The other woman?

Mm-hmm. We also found the 40,000 in cash
Clark took from his account.

And a six-pack
of empty beer bottles.

So you think he was headed
up to his cabin to meet her,

had a few beers and lost control?

Yeah, the story's clear.

Clark died, the victim
of a car accident.

I guess part of me was still hoping.

That's only natural.

You know, yesterday, I would have done
anything to keep this house

and memories.

Now I've got the money to stay.
I'm not sure I want to anymore.

Don't give up on your husband yet.

I'm doing the best I can.
I really am.

But now the plane tickets
and the photographs.

What am I supposed to believe?

Believe what's in your heart.

Are you sure you're all right, Daddy?

I never felt better. It's amazing how we
adapt... to changes life throws at us.

- Even the big ones.
- Big ones?

Yeah, I always thought I'd be frightened
standing on the threshold, as it were...

but honestly, I made peace
with a lot of things.

Daddy, are- are you dying?

I know about the doctor,
your will and the life insurance.

- Oh, angel-
- Please don't lie to me. Not about this.

Sweetie, read the labels. Hmm?

Vitamin "E," Ginseng...

Viagra?

I'm in love, sweetheart.

L- I feel like I've been reborn.

- What?
- Mm.

Who is she?

Oh, no, I promised her
she'd be here when I told you.

I don't wanna start messing up
this early in our engagement.

Engagement?

Daddy, this is crazy.

Oh, I know, I know.

After all this time, your old man
found somebody who makes him happy.

Hmm?

- Pretty wild, isn't it?
- What's that, Claire?

Professor Clark
turning up like that.

Yeah, talk about him one day,
he's found the next. Makes you wonder.

Wonder is a wonderful thing, Grady.

How do you feel
about it, Matthew?

Sad, I guess. I mean, Dr. Clark
was our adviser.

Well, I'm just surprised
that you're all not more upset.

Why be upset?
This will make the game so much more fun.

- The game?
- In class. Now there are clues to follow.

It's no longer just theoretical.
Now it's real.

Much more... dangerous.

You know, Jarod...

if you ever wanna
get together...

pick each other's brains.
A little one-on-one?

Careful, Claire.

Don't cross a line
you can't come back from.

Oh, well.

I guess my friends
will have to do.

See you in class.

Hey.

Jarod.

Hmm. Professor Clark disappears,
and your grades take a nosedive.

Something on your mind, Matthew?

What about you, Claire?

Feeling guilty about anything?

Hmm.

I guess not.

This is getting too creepy,
don't you think Professor Gardner?

If this really is
the perfect murder-

What if I told you
it wasn't the perfect murder?

What if I told you that our killer
made a very serious mistake.

You're not just toying
with us now, are you, Jarod?

Professor Clark's body...

it was recovered
on the road to his cabin...

but he wasn't going to his cabin
that Friday night.

He was going home.

He changed his routine.

But the killer didn't know that.

- So what next?
- We go back to the scene of the crime.

You wanna fake a car crash.
How do you do it?

Do you run the professor's car off the road?
Do you cut his brake line?

Or maybe you just drug him.

Well, ramming the car
would leave paint evidence...

and cutting the brakes
would be way too obvious.

Yeah. And drugs would be found
in an autopsy.

Not necessarily.

Right, uh, Matthew?

Well, I-I don't know.

Oh, come on. You're the ace
of your biochemistry class, aren't you?

Why don't you tell everyone
what dimethylphenol is?

- Um, it's a heavy sedative.
- And it metabolizes in the body how?

The same as alcohol.
It has the same chemical signature.

So, a shot of DMP,
it would knock the victim out.

But if anybody checked,
it would show up in the blood no different...

than, let's say, a few beers.

Okay, so maybe we've got the how.
What about the why?

The motivation.

Why would somebody
wanna kill somebody?

Tomorrow in class,
we'll do a little role-playing exercise...

that will help us
discover this motivation.

Uh, Richard,
you can play the cop.

And, Gwen, you can be
the other woman.

And, um...

you, Claire, you're the killer.

But you had accomplices.
How about, uh, you, Grady?

And you, Matthew.
Strictly theoretical, of course.

This is, after all, just a game.

Let the games begin.

Did you think you'd get away with it?

I just get so bored
sometimes, Sydney.

A sharp mind left idle can become
a very sharp weapon indeed.

You gonna come in, Doc?

Or do you just like to watch?

Interesting experiment.

There's no way the rat can win.

Every turn leads nowhere.
No reward, no way out.

- Seems pointless.
- Maybe that is the point.

He with the biggest brain wins.
Is that it?

Or she.

Certainly not them.

Their tiny brains
can barely think.

So, round and round they go,
chasing their tails forever.

Very cruel, Miss Dunning.

Although I can't believe
a rigged game doesn't bore you.

Once in a while...

even the dumber animals
do something unpredictable.

Something that catches you
off guard.

And that's when it really gets fun.

Fun, till you get bitten.

I haven't been bitten yet.

Yet, being the operative word.

Everyone's gotta go sometime.

The question is-
Who will go first?

Which brings us back to-
the biggest brain rules.

The superior mind
always has a way out.

Tiny little door marked "Exit. "

Well, maybe it's time
to run for it.

Oh, uh, Jarod.

I'll keep it in my glove box.

Just like Professor Clark.

I just don't get it, Sydney.

He hasn't so much
as looked at another woman...

since the day my mother died.

And now, just like that,
he decides he's replacing her.

No, he's not replacing her.

Your father has lived alone
a long time.

It's only natural for him
to reach out again.

You sound like you're on his side.

There are no sides here.
You must let him move on with his life.

I'm sorry it's painful for you.

It often is
for the children involved.

- I'm not a child.
- Then you know what you must do.

Professor Clark said
in his book...

that motive springs from that bottomless pit
called the human psyche.

That no matter how deeply you dig,
you never exhaust it.

Let's do right by him, shall we?

Let's figure out why...
he was killed.

Let's start with the police.
Richard, you're our cop.

What do they think?

Statistically, money and jealousy top the list.
It could have been a robbery.

Except the 40,000
was left in the car.

So jealousy then. Another teacher
with a gripe against Professor Clark.

Or his wife, if she knew about the affair.

Come on, it could be something
as simple as road rage.

No, that's spontaneous.
This was planned.

Well, we're in
a unique position here today...

because we have the killers
in our class.

Why don't we ask them?

- Matthew.
- Yeah.

Why would you murder someone?

- Maybe I didn't like him.
- If you don't like someone, you avoid them.

If you see them walking down the street,
you walk to the other side.

You don't send them
careening off a cliff.

Grady, any thoughts?

Ur, I don't know.
Why does anyone murder?

I'm not asking anyone.
I'm asking you.

So, dig down deep into that bottomless pit
of yours and tell us why would you kill.

Well, uh-

Hello?

There are a million reasons to kill.

Revenge.

Revolt.

Release.

Superstition.

Paranoia. Bad debt.
Bad childhood. Bad hair day.

I'm afraid you've missed
the most relevant one.

Arrogance.

You see, our killers, they think
they're smarter than the rest of us...

and that this is all a game.

That's the reason
they have accomplices.

What fun is it to commit
the perfect murder...

if you don't have someone
to gloat over it with?

But arrogance just may be
their downfall.

Professor Clark says in his book
that the perfect murder...

is committed by one person alone.

Why is that?

Because accomplices
can be unpredictable.

Exactly.
You never know what they might do...

how they might react.

Take our role players over here.

What if one of them couldn't take
the pressure and crumbled?

What if one of them went to the police
and cut a deal?

Aren't you getting a little ahead
of yourself, Jarod?

I mean, there's no evidence that Professor
Clark's death was anything but an accident.

Well, quite obviously, you haven't spoken
to the police today.

I talked to the detective
in charge of this case...

and he's convinced that the Polaroids
in the glove compartment were fakes,

along with the e-mail
and any other evidence

that might suggest
that there was another woman.

As of today...

Professor Clark's death was reclassified..

as a homicide.

As a matter of fact, Detective Rusk thinks...

the killer may even be
right here in the classroom.

Well, that's all for today.

See you the next time.

Not if I see you first.

Come on, Claire. Let's go.
Please.

Please?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Excuse me.

You need a special pass
to get back here.

I just have a delivery.

For who?

- Detective Rusk.
- I'll take it.

- Are you sure?
- Trust me. It's in the right hands.

Cool. Thanks.

"Take Polaroids of hooker to plant in glove box.

"Hack into Clark's bank account.

Get dimethylphenol
from the chem lab. "

It goes on and on.

And it's all in your handwriting.

You might wanna
refresh yourself, Matthew.

It's been a long time
since you murdered Professor Clark.

Where'd you get this?

In an envelope addressed to the
Hanover Sheriff's Department.

Oh, there was
a little note inside...

from a concerned citizen.

Claire wouldn't-

She wouldn't do this to me.

And Grady.
They're my friends.

And you're their patsy.

You see this baby, Matthew?

He'll never know
who his father is.

Not for a second.
Not ever.

And his mother,
she agonized for months...

wondering when
he was coming home...

until they discovered
that he was dead.

We were just sitting around
talking one night.

Getting drunk.

You know?

We were just tossing out ideas
on how to pull it off.

It was just a game.

When I walked into class that day,
and Professor Clark wasn't there...

Claire just started to laugh.

She said, "What good
is building the perfect toy...

if you're not gonna
play with it?"

She and Grady
actually killed him.

And you?

You sat around
and you did nothing.

I was afraid!
What was I supposed to do?

Claire's my best friend.

And I didn't want her
to be mad at me.

The game is over, Matthew.

It's time to do the right thing.

Where's Matthew?

By now, probably
some prisoner's wife.

But once he starts talking,
they're gonna come straight for us.

So let them. As long as you keep
your mouth shut and your pants dry...

no one can touch us.

Good morning, Claire.

Grady.

Professor Gardner!
Professor!

Richard, is something wrong?

Matthew Collins is dead.

He killed himself.

They bought my suicide?

Hook, line and sinker.

I don't quite understand
what you're going to do.

I'm going to murder them...

perfectly.

I'm telling you. It couldn't have worked out
better if we planned it this way.

Oh, wait, we did plan it this way.

Matthew is dead.

He wasn't up to our level, Grady.

What he did is only proof of that.

What the hell are you doing here?

I hope I'm not too late
for the party.

- We're mourning our friend, Professor.
- I know.

That's why I brought
his favorite beer.

So we could pay our respects.

Matthew would want it this way.

Go ahead.

- To the biggest brain.
- To, uh, rats in a maze.

Like Matthew, your backup plan.

- Your little door marked "Exit. "
- May he rest in peace.

What's so funny?

You really think
this is over, don't you?

Well, it is, isn't it?

Sure, the exit door is open,
but where does it lead?

I've a little backup plan too.

Nighty-night.

Claire, no sleeping in class.

Claire, wake up.

There you are. You were out for so long,
I was getting worried about you.

- What the hell-
- I'll take this.

Wouldn't want you smudging
your fingerprints. Careful.

That chair's a little wobbly.
One false move and-

It's not exactly what I had in mind
when I said...

we should be alone together.

We're not alone... are we, Grady?

Wh-What is this?

What? Is this supposed to be a joke?

Oh, come on, Claire.
I know you're full of yourself...

but did you really think that you were
the only person in the world

that could pull off the perfect murder?

This isn't funny.
Let us go, Jarod.

You know, a teacher is very lucky
if he can learn as much from his students

as they learn from him.

In your case,
I hit the jackpot.

Especially with all the mistakes you made.
Matthew being one of them.

Oh, by the way, he's still alive.

Faking his suicide was all part of my plan.

What? You want us to talk?
Is that it? Fine, I'll talk.

Okay, shut up.
A jury could never convict us.

If you were going to court.

But you're not.

I'm the only judge that matters now,
so let's examine the evidence.

First, in all your planning,
you forgot one very important thing.

Professor Clark had a family.

He had a baby on the way...

and a wife who never
stopped believing in him.

You two, on the other hand,
you only have each other.

Before the tragedy, that is.

- What tragedy?
- Don't play dumb, Claire.

It's all in your suicide note.

It says in here how you and Grady
killed Professor Clark.

But grieving for the loss of his friend
Matthew, Grady cracked under pressure...

and wanted to go to the police
and confess.

So you-
Killed him.

And then you hung yourself, because you
couldn't face the utter futility and remorse.

Brilliant minds.
They're so fragile.

- They'll know it's not my handwriting.
- But it is.

You see, I found these notes
that you wrote Professor Clark in his files...

and I traced over
various words and voila!

Suicide note.

Gun with your fingerprints.

It's... perfect.

- Go to hell.
- You first.

Actually, Grady first.

Murder before suicide.

Wait! Wait!

- I'll tell you whatever you wanna hear!
- Shut up, Grady.

He won't do it.
The bullet's just a blank.

Oh, you think so?

Please, Jarod. Oh, God, no!
Come on, Claire, it's over!

Okay, we did it!

We murdered Professor Clark!

Partly it was thrill,
but mostly Claire was mad at him

because he wouldn't sleep with her!

Shut up, Grady.

Just don't kill me.

As far as I'm concerned,
you're dead already.

No!

Well, well, well, well, well.

What do you know?
It was a bluff.

But one that wasn't
missed by the camera.

All your talk
about the perfect murder.

All your claims as to
how extraordinary you are.

You killed Professor Clark
because he spurned you.

You're no genius.
You're as common as they come.

Jarod.

Jarod!

Daddy, I've come with a little peace offering.

Hello?

Who's in my father's private washroom?

Daddy.

Oh, my God.

Hi, Miss Parker.

- Not Bridget.
- Look.

I'm gonna be your new mommy.

You're gonna marry the bi-

The woman who tried to kill you?

Oh, come on, angel.
Be happy for me.

- Honey bunny.
- Hmm?

- I'm your new angel now.
- Oh.

Hmm.

So, how well do you think
you know your father now, Miss Parker?

- Coming to the wedding?
- I'm not big on brides in black leather.

Although, there is a certain
enjoyable irony in it.

Funny, I'm not seeing it.

Oh, give her a chance.

A chance to what?
Suck the rest of the life out of my father?

Love can change people,
Miss Parker.

We miss you, Alden.

Chinese elm.
Alden's favorite.

- It's beautiful.
- Mm.

I know someone who's ready
to climb it already.

Come here.
Hello. Yes.

Oh, Jarod, you've given us so much.

The chance to bury Alden.
Our home.

I just wish I could have
given it all back to you.

You've given us the truth.

Nothing mattered more
to Alden than that.

Thank you.

I just want to know
how you knew all along.

I mean, even when
I had doubts.

The truth was always
in your husband's book.

In the dedication.

"To Chris: Whom I've been waiting
to meet for so very long. "

Good luck. Bye, Chris.