All language subtitles for Touching Evil S02E01 Scalping (1)

He's late.

He's a psycho.

Can't expect punctuality.

People actually
get fun out of this?

Just the intelligent ones.

Look on the bottom.

Says not for use by children
under five cops and the cops.

It's half an hour
past the deadline.

Have you ever thought
of taking up yoga?

Look, I got the other
message 24 hours ago.

It said message, which
always means I get

another message 24 hours later.

Why should this time
be any different?

What I don't understand
is why he picked you?

I mean, out of
all the reporters.

The man has an eye for talent.

He knows you'll talk to us.

Well, how could he know that?

Don't underestimate him.

Creegan's right, this
guy is a clever bugger.

Part of me hopes we
don't hear from him.

Thought that was
why we were here.

We've found a connection.

The last two victims were
killed 24 hours after you

got a message from him.

Anything else?

No, that's it.

Oh, shit.

The usual, from nowhere.

Shit.

Apologies for dragging
some of you from your beds

but this is a matter
of some urgency.

Dave?

Yeah, our killer has sent
Laney another message, which

means if he sticks
to his routine,

and we've no reason to believe
that he won't, that he'll

kill again within 24 hours.

There was nothing
in the message?

The address is
impossible to trace.

Changes every time and
he's jumping around Usenet

using bogus addresses.

He knows his stuff.

Marion.

We know the last two murders
took place in the warehouse

close to central London.

But in fact, the locations
where the bodies are dumped

seemed fairly random, which
suggests that the selection

of the victims is unplanned--

opportunist.

Well, I think they're planned.

I mean, this guy likes
to be one step ahead.

Maybe he's deliberately
making it look random.

What did the
message actually say?

Mentioned something
about sending a reward.

For what?

He likes Laney's
writing style.

OK, he could contact
Laney at any time.

I want someone with him.

I'll do that.

Here you go.

Oh, thanks.

Need caffeine.

All right.

I think I've lost
the ability to sleep.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I haven't slept since
the last message.

Think we'll catch him?

- Do you?
- No chance.

Ah, thanks for the
vote of confidence.

Nah, this guy's
super intelligent.

What, you can say all that
from just a few short messages?

No, I mean, it's
the sense of him.

It's like he's in the air.

I can't explain it.

Past year he's
taken over my life.

I hardly write
about anything else.

I don't think I'd know how.

You go catching him,
I'm out of a job.

I wouldn't worry, there's
no shortage of nut cases

out there.

Not like this guy.

He's a headliner.

- David Laney?
- Yeah.

Parcel for you.

Thanks.

My reward, I think.

At least it's not
a severed head.

Thank you.

OK.

Do you think that's him?

Must be.

Some kind of self-portrait?

Energy can never be
destroyed, only converted.

Well, at least he's
normal in one respect.

You call that normal?

What is that?

A building of some sort?

Can you get closer?

If we can just find out where
it is without losing detail.

I've seen something
like that before.

Closer still?

There's only one
gas works in London

like the one in the photograph.

We've got three
possible addresses,

two women and this guy.

Name's Emerson.

As you can see, he's got fraud--

suspected computer
fraud involving

large amounts of money.

We couldn't prove
it, case was dropped.

Mark.

The picture sent to
Laney was developed

at a small local chemist.

Unfortunately, they wiped
the material and nobody

could give a description.

Now I have two of the assistants
going through mugshots

as we speak but don't
hold your breath.

Emerson's a single man,
lives alone, stumbles from job

to job, no regular
girl or boyfriends

as far as we can
tell, all of which

fits the profile of the killer.

It's not enough.

It's enough to bring
him in for questioning.

We've got a blurred
picture and a hunch.

We bring him in, the
press run it in a flash.

If we have to let him go, we
look incompetent and desperate.

We've only got six hours left!

That's enough time
to prove it's him.

Some toffees in the
glove compartment.

They're a bit fluffy.

Candles.

Maybe he's religious.

So what will you do?

I thought I might
go abroad, travel.

Broaden my horizons,
as they say.

That sounds exciting,
Michael, don't you think?

You know what I think.

I can finish my
degree when I get back.

And how do you
propose to pay for this,

um, what do you call it?

Sabbatical.

I mean, we'd offer to help
but we've already spent all

our money on your education.

Michael, that's enough.

I need this time, Dad.

I've been studying
more than half my life.

I need a break.

Fine.

You go ahead.

Emerson.

He's on the move.

I'm on him.

Can you find it in your
heart to give her a lift back?

Too much to drink.

Then I'll call a cab.

Go Jimmy, come in.

Go ahead.

Can
you pick up an Emily

Hawkins at 33 Grange Avenue?

That's G-R-A-N-G-E Avenue.

Fifteen minutes?

12-10.

What is it?

Trophies.

These pictures, the women
murdered at the warehouse.

Human scalps.

What's wrong?

You don't want to know.

I want detailed
pictures of this lot.

It's him.

Where are you?

On his backside, heading
down Grange Avenue.

We're on our way.

Don't let him out of your sight!

You know what he's like.

He'll come round.

Yeah.

Bye, Dad!

You take care now.

- Hawkins?
- That's right.

Where to?

University Halls of Residence.

Shit, shit, oh shit.

He's just picked up a girl.

Repeat, he's just
picked up a girl.

Stop him!

He's pulling away.

Follow him!

All cars, immediate assistance!

Nice hair.

What?

- Your hair, it's nice.
- Thanks.

Is it your natural color?

All mine, no additives,
no preservatives.

Well, it's really nice.

If there's one
thing I can't stand,

it's a woman who
colors her hair.

I can never understand it.

People should be happy with what
they've got, don't you think?

Never really thought about it.

Well, you see, you can
tell a lot about a person

from their hair.

Well, if they dye
it for example,

it tells you what
they're like as people.

Well I mean, their
personalities.

If you dye your
hair, you're false.

You're hiding something.

Natural hair says genuine,
you see, like you.

I think you're
going the wrong way.

I take a look at you--

beautiful hair,
natural well-kept.

I think, that's a
genuine person, you see?

Excuse me, but the
university's the other way.

That's someone I could
spend some time with.

For your safety.

Stop this car!

Stop it right now!

He's
heading out..

Shit.

I think he's on to me.

Blow the bloody engine.

He's pulled into some woods.

So follow him.

No, tell him to
wait for assistance.

- There's no time.
- He can't--

There's no time!

What the hell do I do?

Your call.

There's an old shack about
100 meters through the trees.

He's got her in there.

How many doors?

What?

How many doors
does the shack have?

Um, I'm not sure.

I decided it was best to wait.

It's OK.

We have to go in.

We play it by the book.

We wait for assistance.

Yeah, we do that,
the best we got is CJ.

At worse, another body.

We can't afford to wait.

He's not going anywhere is he?

And we scare him there's no
telling what he might do.

Look, you saw his room.

What do you think, he's
going to wait for us?

Creegan!

Far enough.

Put the knife down and
no one will get hurt.

Oh, people will get hurt.

You know that.

She knows that.

It's just the nature of things.

It's preordained.

You kill her and
there will be two

dead bodies in the ambulance.

You don't want to die, Emerson.

How would you
know what I want?

I know you don't want to die.

OK, let's see if you're right.

Wrong, wrong!

Nobody knows me.

Nobody stops me!

Don't move!

You OK?

I have a dead
girl on my hands.

I have every newspaper in
the country outside my door

baying for blood.

But what really
pisses me off is I

know exactly what happens next.

I know what happens with you.

I handled it badly.

You handled it
badly and now you're

going to wallow in it, right?

I should have
waited for assistance.

You should have done
exactly what you did.

I had--

which was-- which was to
respond to the situation

using your gut instinct.

Which is why I brought you in
here in the bloody first place.

Are we finished here?

Come on, Dave.

Don't take this one on yourself.

How'd it go with Enwright?

Dave?

Still work here, if that's
what you're wondering.

You don't want to
talk about it, right?

Just as long as you know
I offered to listen.

I didn't see it coming.

I mean, I--

I felt in control.

I felt so calm.

There was nothing
you could have done.

I'm thinking, the right
move, the right words.

He would have
killed her anyway.

Even after she was
dead, I'm thinking--

I'm standing there.
I'm looking for something.

I'm looking at the
blood and I'm thinking,

just go back-- just
five, 10 seconds.

You'd do exactly
the same thing again.

No.

I'd kill him.

I wouldn't think twice.

I played it by
the book, right?

If you've got a problem with
that, say it to my face.

Don't sit there
bloody ignoring me.

What do you want me to say?

I want you to say nothing.

Tell us what happened?

What went wrong?

Was she alive
when you got there?

I have no comment.

Was she alive?

Come on!

Come in, come on.

Pigs at feeding time.

Does that include me?

Sorry.

Want to tell me what happened?

OK, here's what I know.

You caught Emerson.

How did you get his name?

A girl, Emily Hawkins, died.

Something went wrong, right?

Emily was 20 years old,
university student halfway

through a degree in biology.

OK, that's enough.

I don't want to talk about it.

I don't even want
to think about it.

A year I've been
following this guy.

I know everything
there is to know

about him, written
millions of words

on him-- mostly in your favor.

And now at the last
minute I'm supposed

to scrabble about with a
pack looking for scraps?

I said, that's enough.

OK, so maybe I'm
pushing things a bit here.

But I don't think you
realize how much I need this.

You think-- you think
I can just switch off?

Make a report?

Susan.

I can't talk to you, David.

Not yet.

When I can, you'll be the first.

You have one?

Mr. Laney.

Yeah, I've had one or
two-- or three or four.

I stopped counting.

Couple of those
scotches, please.

So what brings you here
on such a perfect night?

Let me guess, you just thought
you'd visit some old friends.

I know about Emerson.

I know about the girl.

What went wrong?

You've heard the
expression trigger happy?

It was the opposite of that.

Something wrong?

Oh, no, everything
is just hunky dory.

Can't you shut up

for just five bloody minutes?

Daddy!

Hey, kiss me!

Mwah.

- So what is it this time?
- What?

You two, go play outside.

Now!

You turn up, there's
usually something wrong.

I just came to
see the kids here.

And everything's fine, is it?

No work pressures,
no personal crisis.

Just once, you know?

Just one time,
Dave, I'd like you

to come and see the
kids because you want

to, not because you need to.

I take it it's a bad time.

They're not your
personal bloody sanctuary!

In the future, I'd appreciate
a bloody phone call.

Nice visit.

Dave, wait.

Um, just a hard time, you know?

Yeah.

You want to tell
me what's going on?

She doesn't want a kid.

It's a bit late
for that, isn't it?

Last few weeks didn't sleep.

Just sits downstairs, crying.

But she never stops crying.

When she was pregnant
with yours, uh--

Nothing like this.

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Barry!

You want me to talk to her?

What would you tell her?

Time is 9:10.

Present, DR Taylor, DC
Rivers, interviewing

Brian Howard Emerson.

Let's not go round
the house with this.

Forensics will tie you to the
other murders at the warehouse,

but we know you killed them.

You know that, do you?

What we need from you--

Do you see this?

This is how much you know.

What we need from you
is a signed confession

to each of the murders.

Is that your
natural hair color?

Enough.

No, it's OK.

I didn't have enough respect
for you to be scared.

Oh, I see some cheap
nasty own brand that you

make from horse bones and fat.

I'd say you avoid the hair
dressers, the company of women.

Oh, it's not your bag.

You do it yourself.

And it's all over your bathroom.

There's a lot of stains
on your walls, Taylor.

We'd also like to ask you
about some other missing women.

You think it matters
how many have died?

How many are still to die?

How many women
have you killed?

Oh, I don't keep a count.

But you keep their hair.

Only when it's natural.

You see, it doesn't
matter how many have died.

All that matters
is that I continue.

Oh, it's the natural
course of things,

like the universe
expands so must we all.

And like the universe,
there's a balance between us.

We depend on one
another to continue.

The dance of the planets,
infinite and immortal.

Do you understand?

I didn't think you would.

Us finding the women should
be part of the natural course

of things.

[inaudible] no.

Nice logic, but so
incredibly human.

Well, human logic
doesn't apply to me.

You see, you can lock me up.

Well, you can even kill me.

But you can never stop me.

Energy can never be
destroyed, only converted.

Ah, interview
terminated at 9:12.

Think we'll wait
til he touches down.

I believe I'm entitled
to a phone call.

No lawyer can help you now.

Nevertheless, it is my right.

I'll see to it.

Taylor?

I shouldn't be telling
you this but, well,

you carry the mark of death.

Emotional terrorism.

Now that's human.

Where's Emerson?

In his cell.

Emerson's been here all night.

When was it sent?

As far as I can
tell, minutes ago.

Then Emerson didn't send it.

An accomplice?

Yeah, possibly.

The service provider
might have a real address.

What the hell is this?

Hey, you're good.

Laney.

What I want to know is,
who blabbed to the press?

Well, story's out.

We might as well use
it to our advantage.

They seem to have tagged
you as some kind of hero.

Jolly.

You do a series
of press interviews,

play up the angle
of police heroine.

Wait a second.

Enhancing the
OSC's reputation.

No way.

That's not my job.

They'll keep writing
stories anyway.

Let's try and make
them work for us.

I'm working on a case.

Creegan and Rivers can manage.

Charlie will brief you on the
way to handle the interviews.

I thought we'd start
with David Laney.

You ever thought of
taking up interior design?

It's telling us something.

What?

Why another has to die soon.

Who's in charge here?

Somebody must know
what's going on!

Look, I'll sit outside for
for the rest of my life

if I have to!

I need to talk to someone now!

Please calm down, sir.

DI Creegan.

Michael Hawkins,
Emily's father.

Can I help?

It's OK.

Let's get a coffee.

Do you need a lift?

I think I'll wait.

Sorry about your daughter.

That's an easy thing to say.

I'm not sorry.

I don't have words
for how I feel.

Were you there when she died?

I want to knew what happened.

Everybody talks, nobody
tells me anything.

What do you want to know?

Was she awake?

When it happened, did she--

did she suffer?

I see.

You know, that's the first time
anyone's been honest with me.

The paper said something went
wrong, somebody messed up.

Is that right?

Right.

You want to tell me who?

See, they say it was a madman.

Mad killer, wrong place,
wrong time, all of that.

But it's not enough.

Do you understand?

There's got to be
something else,

something that makes sense.

I, uh--

I'm sorry.

This isn't fair.

Thanks for being
straight with me.

He wanted to
know who messed up.

Couldn't tell him.

Nobody messed up.

He has a right to know.

Know what, Dave?

You did your job.

It just went wrong.

You know what I mean.

You can't take the blame
for a monster like Emerson.

Don't keep your date waiting.

Hi.

I don't discuss
my personal life,

my bra size, my favorite food,
or my menstrual cycle, OK?

Don't want to travel, don't
want to do work for charities,

and I have no desire to
promote peace and understanding

throughout the world.

That about cover it?

Just about.
One thing.

What?

Taste in men,
blondes or brunettes?

Bald and shiny.

You're not going
to believe this.

What's that?

We solved the message
on DI Creegan's computer.

Emerson's warehouse.

Let's see if you're right.

Let's see if you're right.

All right, let's
have a look around.

What did you get to?

I've been trying your radio.

How did you find the body?

I traced the email
address to here.

Looks like Emerson
left the computer

inside with a time delay.

He set it to release emails
at regular intervals.

How was it triggered?

He was permitted
one phone call.

We thought he phoned his lawyer.

He was hanging upside
down from the rafters

with his throat cut, like
the last body we found here.

Anyone know who she is?

One of the officers
recognized her.

Margaret Foulds, local MP.

Hair?

Still there.

Pathologist?

On her way.

You know, you've
really pissed me off.

What?

Police heroine saves the day.

What the hell was that?

It wasn't true, then?

Nah, uh-uh.

You need to be
sharper than that.

How you coping?

Don't think I'm sure yet.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

I feel like I've just
had my legs cut off.

How come?

Losing Emerson.

Well, you'll have the trial.

Ah, not my bag--

cut and dried, no mystery.

You know something
we have in common?

What?

We depend on
guys like Emerson.

What makes us tick.

I thought you wanted
to discuss the OSC.

Forensics have checked
the computer for prints.

Emerson's?

All over it.

No sign of anybody else.

It doesn't make sense.

How come?

Because you're adamant
that Foulds was killed

only two to three hours ago.

We had to cool
our surveillance

on the warehouse two weeks ago.

Emerson must have
been watching us.

It's his computer.

But if pathology's right,
Emerson didn't kill Foulds.

Copycat.

Nobody knew about
the warehouse.

Not even the press.

Has to be an accomplice.

Mary?

Foulds was found suspended
upside down from the roof

but still had her hair.

One thing bothers me--
the victim's wrong.

Emerson targeted younger women.

This morning's paper.

Look here, I want a
press blackout on this.

I want to know everything
there is about Margaret Foulds.

Talk to Emerson,
see if he knows her.

And David Laney wrote the story.

He might know something.

So tell me about Creegan.

Ah, that's out of bounds.

Off the record.

Still out of bounds.

I see.

That's not what I meant.

Yeah, right.

We've worked together.

He's good at his job.

He's a good looking guy.

Not my type.

What is your type?

You're getting personal now.

I'm not working now.

Ah, DI Creegan, the man
who knows the criminal mind.

We found your computer.

As you were supposed to.

You wanted us to find it?

Well, of course.

Why?

The gravitational
pull of a black hole

is so great, it sucks
in everything around it.

All matter, even
time can't escape.

Think about that.

Time itself, sucked into a void.

Can you even begin to
imagine such power?

You haven't
answered the question.

Oh, I think I have.

Who else knew
about the warehouse?

Now why would you
want to know that?

We know you have
an accomplice.

Accomplice?

Oh, you want to know
about Margaret Foulds.

Would you like me to
sign a confession?

So where were we?

As far as I recall,
you were avoiding

the subject of Creegan.

Look, there's nothing
between me and Creegan.

You're barking up
the wrong tree there.

OK.

So let's hear more
about the job.

We'll see the inside story.

I want an in-depth
exploration of what it's

really like in the front line.

Where do you want to start?

Oh, the most
important question.

Just what is it you find so
attractive about bald men?

Who told you about
Margaret Foulds?

Who told you about me?

David Laney.

Your turn.

Laney?

Your personal biographer.

I don't believe you.

And I don't believe you
killed Margaret Foulds.

Like you didn't believe
I would kill Emily Hawkins.

I'll tell you what I believe.

I believe you're a fake.

Oh, was I faking that night?

A jumped up fake with
a bag of stupid tricks.

When I slit her
throat, was I faking?

Do you know your
problem, Emerson?

You've started to
believe your own press.

Think you're some
sort of celebrity!

, Well nobody's
interested any more.

You're yesterday's news.

You're wrong.

Eh, people have already
forgotten your name.

Laney wouldn't
let that happen.

He's already writing
about somebody else.

He wouldn't do that

No?

No, he understands me.

Bull shit!

No, he believes in me.

He believes in anything that
get his name on the front page.

No, he told me he believed.

You talked to Laney?

I thought I knew
what to expect--

you know, when I signed up.

Told myself that this is
why I joined the police.

This was a chance to do
something that really counted.

Now you're not so sure?

No.

Isn't that.

I just didn't expect
to see so much mess.

Our friend Emerson again.

You spend so much effort
shutting down your feelings,

you forget how to
start them up again.

Laney's a good journalist.

His bound to have
kept the tapes.

To

You can't let
yourself stop feeling.

You've got to get out
there, go looking for it.

What?

Feeling, emotion, life.

It doesn't come to you.

No?

No.

So what are you doing here?

Now that's a
personal question.

And the answer?

I think you already know.

It's me.

Emerson.

How are ya?

OK.
Who?

I'm not sure.

Last night I took a walk
to the top of a hill

and looked at the stars.

It looked all wrong,
like the universe

was twisting into itself.

I saw a girl--

too pretty, but genuine.

You killed her?

It was
what she required.

The women have to die.

The balance must be restored.

I know
know what you mean.

Oh, you do?

Some women
go too far, right?

Well, like
everything in nature,

there's a balance
between men and women.

Exactly.

And some women
upset that balance.

You
know, I really think

you're beginning to understand.

Killed another last night.

How did it feel?

Oh, like someone
to save me 50 times my size.

She offered to have sex with
me in exchange for her life.

I took both.

She deserved it.

Beautiful
beautiful hair.

What's wrong?

I'm OK.

What is it?

Just being here with
you makes me feel alive.

You know, you really have
the most beautiful hair.

synch & corrected by 7kozlov
- www.myfbs.ru -