All language subtitles for The.Mephisto.Waltz.1971.720p.BluRay.x264-SPOOKS

Myles.

What's that horrible sound?

Blue jay-

Why?

Giving his wife hell.

That beautiful thing?

She let the cat into the garden.

- Love, love, love?
- Love, love, love.

- Myles.
- I'm asleep.

What time is it?

It's either a quarter to 4
or 20 after 9.

Darling. Would you mind
answering the phone?

There's no reason to be scared.

- Whom am [speaking to?
- It's me. Abby.

May I speak to Mr. Clarkson?

Well, you see, Myles is asleep.
So is Paula. They're both asleep.

They're always sleeping.

- Who shall I say called?
- Duncan Ely.

Wait just a minute.

Would you mind spelling that for me?

D...

...U...

...N...

...C...

...A...

...N.

E...

...L...

...Y.

Myles. Myles.

You forgot your tape recorder.
I love you.

You mean. You love me anyway.

- Yes?
- Myles Clarkson. I have an appointment.

Yes, of course.
Come this way, please.

May I help you?

You'll have to wait
until Mr. Ely is through playing.

Oh, yes.

We can go in now. This way, please.

- Clarkson?
- Yes, sir.

I let you come because I read your piece
on that Russian genius.

What's his name? Stravinsky.

Yes. It wasn't good.

But it wasn't too bad, either.

Well, thank you.

Did you recognise the piece
I just played?

Late romantic. Liszt, I think.

Not a bad guess. "Mephisto Waltz."

The devil dancing with his paramours.

All right, I give you 30 minutes,
no more.

Throw that disgusting cylinder away.

Mr. Clarkson?

May I see your hands?

Turn it over.

Now the other one.

Stretch your fingers.

Have you ever played the piano?

I studied for four years at Juilliard.

And?

I had the usual first concert.

Half family and half critics.

I got a standing ovation
and seven New York City reviews.

The kindest phrase I remember is:
"indecently immature."

I resented that. I was 20 years old.

Critics. Even when they are right,
they are stupid.

They don't understand that after a
concert, there's blood on the piano keys.

- And there should be. Yes, Bennet.
- Here's something.

Please ask Mrs. Delancey
to come down here.

Very good, sir.

I want my daughter
to see your hands.

- Go ahead. Please.
- Well, for about the next year or so...

I tried to end it all
with Scotch on the rocks.

So you took up the trade
common to retired admirals...

unhappy wives,
and exhausted poets.

- You became a writer.
- A musical journalist.

Can you stretch a tenth?

No, here, the piano.

Roxanne. He has great hands.
Rachmaninoff hands.

Hey, you...

- I forgot your name.
- Myles Clarkson.

I happen to be the greatest pianist alive.
And I tell you this, Mr. Myles Clarkson.

Hands like yours...

are one in a hundred thousand.

Don't you agree, Roxanne?

Yes.

Our father is no longer in heaven,
my dear.

God exists.
And the devil is his vice president.

Or is it vice versa?

A dreadful pun in there somewhere.

Unintended, my dear.

Roxanne. Have you visited Kurt's
new villa at Cap Ferrat? It's lovely.

No, darling. I've been spending
my days in South America.

We have a working ranch in Chile,
a family thing.

Oh, that's very interesting.

I... I saw your last picture.
At least I hope it was your last picture.

My dear boy, you really should
make them use doubles for you.

Especially in those nude scenes.

And a total bore.

I've discovered that the beach
in winter at Coney Island...

is absolutely enchanting.
No one's discovered it yet.

I see, I have an axiom to grind:
"Cliché is king."

- Now, wouldn't you agree?
- No, I don't.

Death. Nothing more popular
than death.

Death is corny. It really is.

Absurd. Ridiculous and corny.

What were you like as a child?

At Abby's age.
I was beautiful and precocious.

- And at, say. 17?
- I was merely beautiful.

- You then were still in London?
- Why are you so interested in me?

- Aren't you?
- No.

- Why not?
- Well, I know too much.

Oh, thank you.
I'm having some terrific wine.

It's really delicious.
Thank you, thank you. It's delicious.

You see this callous on my finger?

That just proves one thing,
that my wife does the typing.

I think you should be an actor
or a pianist.

- So the great Duncan tells me.
- He's right. He's always right.

But he's a little bit insufferable.

He's forced me to play the piano
with him this evening. A duet.

Forgive me. Mozart.
For I know not what I do.

- Bravo.
- Bravo.

That was wonderful.
Congratulations, young man.

- Thank you very much.
- Now I know what Duncan meant.

- We must discuss your career.
- Thank you, thank you.

How was I? Rotten?

With a lot of work, you'd
become a third-rate piano player.

Oh, that good, huh?

But, Myles, say you leafed
eight hours a day at your writing.

- You could be a half-decent novelist.
- I have and I'm not.

Myles, you're giving me a headache.

- Let me get you something.
- And I wanna go home.

- Good night.
- Good night, Myles.

Good night, Roxanne, darling.

Hope to see you soon.

Very soon.

Robin, sit.

This is Robin.
Isn't he a beautiful creature?

Robin, I would like you to meet
Mrs. Clarkson.

Oh, shut up. I'm not a customer.

Time is it?

It's 11 days before Christmas.

Know what our total sales are?
Plus sales tax.

No, I don't want to.

Eleven dollars and twenty-five cents.

- Well... It's a nice neighbourhood, anyway.
- So is the rent.

Five more minutes.
We're gonna close up shop...

go home. Serve dinner. Write a note
of apology to our dear husbands...

take 100 sleeping pills and
hang ourselves in the upstairs closet.

Let's wait till tomorrow.
I think I see a customer.

Paula, we had to come
and see your boutique.

- Hi, Mr. Ely.
- Hello.

Beautiful.

This is my partner. Maggie West.
Duncan Ely and Mrs. Delancey.

- How do you do? I brought some friends.
- Good.

I wanted your first day
to be a success.

Paula, it's beautiful.

- How much have they bought?
- Over $500.

- What are they after?
- Who cares?

I sold him the Hermés scarf
for $29.95...

and he never batted
a beautiful white eyelash.

He wants three more.

They're spending too much.
It makes me nervous.

Why are they doing it? Why?

Duncan Ely. Now I remember.

His wife was murdered...

by a dog.

Myles.

I'm worried.

- Why?
- Because.

Well, there's a good solid reason.

They spent all that money in my shop
buying ridiculous things.

- Who?
- Roxanne and her friends and Duncan.

You know he comes in
every other day?

Why? What's the reason?

He likes you. Ls that so frightening?

Yes.

All these questions about you.
About me, about Abby.

He's studying us like little white mice
in a maze.

I don't wanna go there
on New Year's Eve.

It's too late.
I already said we'd go.

Well, call him up and say
you're gonna be ill.

Why can't we do what we always do,
celebrate our crazy Mexican honeymoon?

- Drink tequila and play checkers?
- Yeah, exactly.

Why?

So once a year. At least.
I can let you win.

- The hell you do.
- No, I don't.

Look, baby.

I really wanna go to that party.

It's important to me.

Good, go by yourself.

What are you, jealous?

- Yes.
- Of who? Mrs. Delancey?

Well, who else is there?

Actually...

anything she can do. I can do.

- Love.
- Love.

Oh, delicious.

If they all looked like you,
I'd switch sexes.

It's nice that you have a choice.

How's my girl?

Oh, terrible.
I'm stoned and I hate it.

- What's the matter, have I got dandruff?
- I wanna go home and go to bed.

Success makes you miserable,
doesn't it?

Where you going?

If I'm not back in 10 minutes,
call the police.

Oh, great. Thanks very much.

There you are, you bad boy. Bad boy.

Oh, yes. Oh, silly dog.
He loves perfume.

You must have frightened him.
He really is quite a coward, you know.

Now, Robin, lie down.

That's a boy.
Roll over, that's it, yes.

He's a great big baby.
Aren't you, Robin?

He's a lousy hypocrite, is what he is.

- Did you like my work?
- Frankly, no.

I come from a worried generation.
I like nice, safe abstract forms.

- Yours are a little too real for comfort.
- That's true. And very perceptive.

I'd love to do a life mask of Myles.

- Why?
- His bones.

Here and here. They're so beautiful.
Don't you agree?

No, I don't. But he is pretty.

It's all right then. I can do him?

I'm not my husband's keeper.

You see. I was married twice.
Once at 15 to an old man, almost 30.

Duncan had it annulled.

Cost him lots of money.

Did you always call him Duncan?

I guess I always have
called him Duncan.

"Dad" would be entirely too domestic
and lace curtain for a man like him.

There were lots of affairs
in between.

And then I married once more
and divorced.

I suppose I should have stayed.
He was such a nice...

simple, rugged intelligent man.

He's vice president
of Western Oil out here.

Duncan, what's the matter?

Faint.

It's one of those...

Don't worry. I'll be all right.

Those stairs...

they go round and round.

Your hands, they're ice-cold.
Shall I get your medicine?

No, thank you. I took it.
It doesn't help.

I'm sorry you're not feeling well.

You're the one that looks sick.

But I expect you'll be better...

as soon as it's peeled off and cast.

People should be born at 70.

And live their lives backward.

The present arrangement
simply doesn't make sense.

I'm awake.

Have a nice time?

Murder. We killed
three bottles of champagne.

With Roxanne?

And Duncan.

Hey, you know something?

He had me play the Mozart again.

And I was pretty good.

Maybe stoned on champagne
is how I ought to live.

Myles, you've broken out all pink.

Oh, that's the plaster.

I hate Roxanne.

Naturally.

I don't wanna go there anymore.
And I don't want you to go there either.

Why? Would you just
explain to me why?

- They're too damn friendly.
- Quiet, don't shout.

There's some things I can't say
without shouting, do you mind?

Look, they like us. They like you.

They think Abby is the most
wonderful child in the Western world.

- And they like me too.
- Of course they do.

- But it's all too sudden.
- Baby, what is it, what's the matter?

You know, I mean, really?

I'm scared.

That's ridiculous.

- I'm the son he never had.
- Oh, fine.

Is he the father you never had?

Myles, may I remind you
that you already got one father.

He's a druggist in Providence.
Rhode Island. Remember?

Anything more than that is bigamy
or something.

Duncan Ely is dying.

Oh, what? No.

Yeah, he told me himself tonight.

He's had leukemia for eight months.

They change his blood
every two weeks.

But it doesn't do any good.
He's gonna die.

I'm sorry, really I am.

He told me not to tell anybody,
but I guess it's all right.

He's a great man.

He's a great artist.

He's maybe the greatest
since the invention of the pianoforte.

And he's never gonna give
another concert.

Open up your fist, Mr. Clarkson.

Hold this real tight
for about two minutes.

- How is he?
- Much better, I think.

Sleeping? Yes. Very quietly now.

He's got so much courage.
It's an inspiration.

Why don't you go down to the kitchen.
Have Bennet get you supper.

Thank you, I will.

I'll take that in for you.

I brought some hot bullion
for you to drink.

- Go on. It's good for you.
- All right. Thank you.

I gave some blood yesterday.

You'll feel tired for an hour or so.
Why don't you take a nap?

When Duncan wakes up. I'll call you.

I know he wants to talk to you.

Yes, do that, please.

Goodbye, Myles.

Is it nearly 12?

Almost, Duncan.

Myles?

How's Duncan?

I'm sorry. Really I am.

Though he had a great life.

Nobody has enough.

What is it?

The costume.

Oh, the laundry didn't come back.

- And I got cold waiting for you.
- Just on top, huh?

- No, leave it on.
- Why?

I wanna see you.

Love, love, love?

Don't be stubborn, say it.

- What do you mean?
- What do you mean, what do I mean?

Do you wanna go downstairs?

No.

Can't we wait?

No, I can't wait.

What was all that
mumbo jumbo about?

I expected to see him rise
from the coffin.

People have a right
to their own religion.

"I, Duncan Mowbray Ely..."

a resident of the city of Los Angeles
in the county of Los Angeles...

in the state of California.

Being of sound mind
and disposing memory...

do make, publish and declare this
my last will and testament...

hereby revoking any and all wills
and codicils...

thereto by me heretofore made.

Item one:

In recognition of my affection
for Myles Clarkson...

I give, devise and bequeath
to him...

one of my Steinway pianos...

and my entire collection
of musical scores...

for his personal enjoyment
and use...

in the hope that he will continue
his interest in music...

for which I believe he has such
an extraordinary talent.

Furthermore. I direct that
within one week of my demise...

my executors pay
to the said Myles Clarkson...

the sum of $100,000 cash...

"such sum to be drawn
from my personal checking account."

Myles, I don't believe it.

"This sum I bequeath
to the said Myles Clarkson..."

for his support and maintenance.

Though it is hoped he will use it
to further his musical career...

if he so chooses.

Item two:

To my daughter, Roxanne Delancey.

I hereby bequeath my home in
Los Angeles, California...

"and all of its contents."

All that money has made you
terribly attractive.

Did you know that?

Remember me?

No. Not yet.

What the hell is that?

There are 42 cathedrals
in this town, remember?

- No.
- Sure you do.

Wait a minute. Listen to this.

Now do you remember?

Turn that damn thing off.

You used to be so polite.
So gentle.

That was last week.
When I was poor.

Do you love me?

Any fool can love.

It's what comes next that counts.

Oh, Myles.

Robin.

Robin, you're a bad dog.

Shame on you.

Come on.

You could've hurt me.

Now I'll have to tie you up.

- Hi, Abby.
- Mommy!

- Oh, I missed you so much.
- Mommy.

I'm so glad you're back.

- Oh, look, Mommy. I have a dog.
- So I noticed.

Abby, he's a very beautiful dog.

You're gonna give him right back to
the beautiful lady who gave him to you.

No offense.

- Oh, please, Mommy. Can't I...?
- No.

Come on, Robin. Come on.

- What? Tears already?
- Yes. Everything's back to normal.

- Hello, Maggie.
- Hello, hello.

- How was she?
- Oh, awful.

- Typical.
- Where's the rich man?

Parking the rich car.

Happy vacation?

Mad.

It can't go on.

Actually I feel unfaithful.

He's like three different men.

- Is that a new ring?
- Loot.

Let me see.

He wants Daddy.

Don't we all.

Daddy will let me have him.

- You'll see.
- Hello, pretty girl.

Oh, Daddy. Daddy.

Daddy, listen to me.
I want this dog real bad.

I'll keep him in my room.

Oh, please. And he won't eat
your pencils anymore, I promise.

Pencils.

Did you let him into Daddy's study?

When I first met this dog.
I disliked him. But now it's all changed.

Little by little, I've grown to hate him.

- We'll keep him.
- Oh, no, Myles.

- I don't want a dog in the house.
- A dog needs a child.

Oh, thank you, Daddy.

I still smell tobacco.

- Open the window, will you?
- It's already open.

If that's a martini, I want a taste.

We could use a new brand of Scotch.

This tastes like a poor man's kilt.

- What's for dinner?
- Well, we still have some hot dogs left.

Oh, well, thank you very much.

Get dressed, we're going out.

We are? Where?

Japanese.

I love Japanese.

- I'll make the reservations.
- And Maggie too?

And the good doctor?

I don't know. He's still at the hospital.
Won't be off till 9.

Well, we'll wait for him.

Isn't that nice of me?

Look who's here.

Roxanne, why don't you have a seat?

- Maggie, you know Roxanne?
- Yes. Oh, hello.

Dr. West, Roxanne.

No, no. Don't get up. This is Richard.

- Richard...?
- She doesn't know his last name.

- Oh, I see.
- Here. Take your shoes off and join us.

Waitress. Would you put some
cushions around for us?

- Good to see you again.
- Abby, move up.

Pull in your elbows.

Her elbows are like razor blades.

- I imagined the States had all this room.
- We do, but we're lonely.

- Didn't know you were back. Practicing?
- Yes. Trying to play Brahms on a spinet.

But you have the Steinway.

No, I need a bulldozer to get it in.

Well, then use mine.

Yes, that's a good idea.

Richard, that key I gave you.
Give it to Mr. Clarkson.

- It's in your purse.
- Oh, yes. That's right.

You'll have the house all to yourself.
Richard and I are going to Bermuda.

Are we?

I'm glad. Aren't you?

- Western Union.
- Why didn't you call me?

- You could've read it over the phone.
- I know.

- Are you stunned?
- Four hundred dollars? Hardly.

Oh, Myles. I think it's beautiful.

Just for pinning Duncan Ely
down on paper.

Those who can, do. Those who can't
write clever little interviews.

About equally divided
between snide and admiring.

Why do you wanna be somebody else?

Because I'm nobody the way I was.

It's true you've changed.

Oh, it's horribly exciting.

But it's not comfortable
the way it used to be.

Still...

in the morning I can't bear
to have you pull away from me.

It leaves me feeling all empty.

Was that you on the piano just now?

Why, didn't you like it?

I did. But it was frightening.

It was one of Duncan's last tapes.

Myles, why did you say that?

This tape machine is cold.

Oh, well, hello, Roxanne.

Hello, Paula.

Beautiful day.

Hello, Myles.

What happened to Bermuda?

Oh, there was some silly hurricane,
so Richard wouldn't fly.

Well, I won't either,
not with a coward.

You know, all the interesting men are
either married or not worth the effort.

No, don't stop. Go on.

That was you I heard outside.
Wasn't it?

It's unbelievable.

- Why? I've been playing 18 hours a clay.
- Twenty-four.

- You practice in your sleep.
- But it's not just technique.

It's also faith.

Duncan gave me that faith.
Nobody else.

So if I try to play like him.
That's not surprising, is it?

No.

You're right and I'm wrong.

I think you should do
whatever you wanna do.

I'm gonna call my friend Mr. Hurok.

Myles can take over Duncan's
concert a week from Friday.

I accept.

Myles, is that you?

I have no choice.

He wants it done right now.

Abby?
What do you want with Abby?

Really I don't want to hurt her.

She's a beautiful little thing.

But I have to.

Don't, please don't.

Don't.

Sorry, it's part of the bargain.

Mommy.

Mommy.

Mommy?

Mommy?

Mommy?

What is it?

- I had the most awful dream.
- Oh, so did I.

It's nothing. It's not real.

It's not real. It'll go away.

You're warm.

Maybe we should take
your temperature. All right?

Come on. Come on.

Oh, there you go, love.

Where's that mad animal?

He's gone.

He'll be back, unfortunately.

No.

No, he went home.

He jumped out.
The window was open.

And you hated him.
So he jumped out and went home.

Roger, what's happening?
I've got to know.

We have to identify the bug
before we can kill it.

Paula, she's gonna be all right.
She's strong.

Like you.

Well?

He doesn't know. Not yet.

The penicillin didn't do a thing.

She's had convulsions.

But they're under control.

They think possibly
it's some kind of spinal...

Myles?

Do dreams tell the truth?

What are you talking about?
What dreams?

How is she?

I'm afraid she's gone.

Oh, my God.

We tried everything.

The truth is, we could never...

get a firm diagnosis.

I did-.

Don't you see?

They put oil on her forehead.

Paula? Paula.

Paula, stop.

Paula, don't run away.
Please. Please.

Paula, stop.

What are you running away for?
That's not gonna help.

- I'm so scared.
- I know, but I'm here.

Don't run away from me.

- Myles, it's come true.
- What? What did?

He said he had to kill her.

- Some kind of bargain.
- Who?

Duncan Ely.

He said you had these great hands
like Rachmaninoff.

And now Duncan's dead.

But you play like him.

As well as he did.

I've heard you.

How did his brain
get into your fingers?

Paula, you've got to stop talking
like this.

Oh, he's dead. I know he's dead.

Ever since the night he died.
Everything has changed.

You. You've changed.
Even the way you make love.

Paula, you're living in a nightmare.

- You gotta wake up.
- I know. Don't you think I know?

It's hideous.

And suppose it's true?

That book she had. Roxanne.

- People who pray to the devil.
- Paula.

Is it possible? Do such things happen?

Those faces in the library...

and my little girl.

You gotta calm down.

Maybe the doc can give you some
medication. Something to help you sleep.

Why did he kill her?

Was it really some kind of bargain?

They put the oil right here.

- Is that what happened?
- Paula, stop it.

Oh, Myles, tell me the truth.

Tell me the truth.

Stop it.

Thank you.

Clear footprints...

of a giant dog in the snow.

Paw marks led straight in
the murdered woman's body.

But there were no marks
leading away.

The victim's husband...

was the world-renowned pianist
Duncan Ely.

The deceased woman
leaves a married daughter...

Mrs. Roxanne Delancey.

Yes, I was married to Roxanne.

Along time ago.

- How is she?
- Beautiful.

I don't like her either.

I remember your name now.

You did that article on Duncan Ely
in the Sunday Times.

No, that was my husband.
I just did the typing.

Well. Duncan Ely was
a very great man.

He was also arrogant. Cruel
and annoying.

You won't find that in the article.
Mr. Delancey.

More important.
My husband forgot to mention...

the murder.

Was it true?

Was your mother-in-law
murdered by a dog?

No. No, that's ridiculous.

The Swiss didn't seem to think so.

They hung the animal...

from the beam of a wooden bridge
over a mountain stream.

On the curious assumption, I suppose,
that the devil can't swim.

Or don't you believe in the devil?

Those are peasants who still live
in the Middle Ages. We don't.

I have reason to think you're wrong.

There are people living today,
like Roxanne, your talented ex-wife.

I don't know how or why...

but I think she was responsible
for the death of my daughter.

Mrs. Daley. Mrs. Clarkson's
ready to leave now.

Would you show her to the elevator?

Bravo. Bravo. Bravo.

He's never played like that in his life.

He's marvelous. Marvelous.

Sexy. I mean, don't you think he's sexy?
You know him better than I.

The body's familiar, yes.

There's a very handsome man
staring at you.

If you'd like a change.

- Where?
- Over there. One row down.

I will, I will.

Sensational.

Gina.

- Myles, just sensational.
- Thank you.

Thank you. That was very kind.

Thank you.

- Hi, good-looking.
- Oh, nice to see you again.

Mrs. Clarkson,
the bar is much too crowded.

Here, have some of mine. Please.

You're more sociable
than the last time I saw you.

I am also a lot less sober.

Ninety-proof courage, huh?

You're wrong.
I'm not scared of these people.

My ex-wife and her campy crowd.

- Well, I am.
- My, they will be very happy...

to hear that.

Yes. Worship Satan, sure.
That's just so they can do anything...

their little butts desire.

Hey, listen. I... l just wanted to...

forget about what happened
after Mrs. Ely died...

because it was done.

You see? It was over with.

But I began thinking about your child.

And I decided not to be
so goddamn selfish.

Hey.

My number is on the inside.

My, that's a nice perfume
you're wearing. What kind is it?

Shalimar.

Isn't this beautiful?
You must be paralyzed with joy.

As you see.

Myles was offered the rest
of Duncan's tour. He told you?

Chicago. Salt Lake City.
Twenty-four concerts in six weeks.

- Well, Billy boy, how are you, love?
- Since you kicked me out, great.

How terribly funny to see you here.
Have you given up your squash?

He used to play squash
every Friday evening.

No, all I do anymore is make money.
Aren't you sorry?

Oh, I am, darling. I really am.

Hey, you better keep the whiskey.
You'll need it.

She's gonna tell you
the story of my life.

Ex-husbands are so boring.

- Have you noticed?
- I like him.

Don't.

- I think he's rather funny.
- He's a dangerous, silly, fraudulent man.

Maybe that's just
what I've always wanted.

It was very kind of you to come.
I mean it.

I just want you to rest assured...

that there's no amatory intention
on my part.

Too bad.

Let's start with the facts.
There is no devil.

- But there is.
- Where? Introduce me.

In my nightmares.

Yes, but they're yours.

Whatever you dream is yours.
You made it up.

Nobody else. Don't you see?

No. But they're not like any dreams
I've ever had before.

They're... They're frightening.

- Because they tell the truth.
- What truth?

My little girl
was killed by these people.

But why? Why should they?

Because they bargain
with human bodies.

The world's a pretty nice place to live in,
in my opinion.

Why anyone should wanna make
a religion out of sickness and hatred...

I just don't understand.

God's not fashionable.
We have to have somebody.

Paula.

What is so funny?

I keep thinking you're Myles.

- But you're a different shape.
- I know.

I sometimes feel the same way
about Roxanne.

They say the truth is
that once you've had one of them...

nothing else will quite satisfy you.

- Then you believe.
- I believe that they believe.

Why did you divorce her?

Because of the child.

You had a child with Roxanne?

The same day that Mrs. Ely was killed.
Roxanne disappeared.

I found her in the snow
halfway up the mountain.

And she'd had a miscarriage.

No. It was lucky for all of us
it was dead.

It was a monster.

I should've thought that
would've brought you closer together.

- Yeah. Except...
- What?

Wasn't my child.

Don't you see?

They play at witchcraft because
then they can do anything they like.

Paula. I've absolutely no proof,
but I'm also absolutely sure.

The man who was the father
of my dead child...

was Duncan Ely.

Hey.

I'll get some more wood.

Bill?

Bill.

Bill?

Bill.

Bill.

We were not drunk.
We were not taking drugs.

And we were not lovers.

What else were you not?

I wasn't with him when he was killed.

He was out here by himself.

You made a statement.

You said you knew how he died.

Now, regardless of whether you think
we poor cops will understand...

or we won't understand...

you're going to explain to me
exactly what you meant.

I think Bill Delancey
was killed by my husband.

You said he was out of town.

It's a pretty good trick.

Killing a man all the way
from Chicago. Illinois.

He's not really my husband.

Oh, why is that?

Someone's using his body.

Well. I guess that pretty well
clears this case up.

Darling.

- She knows.
- What do I know?

That you're not Myles at all?
That you're Duncan Ely.

And you're in love with her.
In love with your own daughter.

I warned her to stay away from Bill,
but she wouldn't.

You killed Bill. You killed Abby.

Now you wanna kill me.

I am not gonna let you.

Get off me. Let go of me.
Let go of me.

Don't touch me. Don't touch me.
Don't touch me.

That's not his handwriting.
I know it isn't.

Oh, my God.

- How are you feeling, Paula?
- Wonderful.

Just wonderful.

- Still have that headache?
- No.

But when I move,
everything goes round and around.

I think you're gonna be just fine.
Better than ever, in fact.

What did you find in my head?

Room for rent?

No, you had a minor stroke.

That's nice.

Who struck me?

We can't always tell the cause
of these things, particularly at your age.

They happen. Either you die,
or you get better.

It wasn't the accident, huh?

No. It was the other way around.

What happened inside your head
is what caused the accident.

- What day is it, Mag?
- It's Tuesday. Afternoon.

- Two weeks.
- Three.

I've gotta get out of here.

So many ways to kill a person.

Sometimes
I'm afraid to drink the water.

It might be poisoned.

Isn't that silly?

Paula.

They haven't given up.
I know they haven't.

They killed Mrs. Ely. And Abby and Bill.

Then they tried to murder me.
Well, I'm just one grade too tough.

Paula, if I didn't know you were sane,
I'd think you were a little crazy.

They made a big fat bargain
with the devil.

So they could enjoy each other.

Father and daughter.

Then they realised that I knew
what they were doing...

and tried to kill me. Paula.

Why don't you just face the truth?

What?

All they are is a thing
on a double bed.

Your Myles and that Roxanne bitch.

Listen.

Abby had some rare kind of virus.

Bill Delancey, he just had
a little too much to drink.

And as far as Mrs. Ely was concerned,
she probably had a very bad heart.

All I know about is you.

Paula.

You're sick.

And you're going to stay sick unless
you make up your mind to just get up...

and get a divorce.

No.

I want Myles.

Whoever he is.

I still want him.

Even if it's...

just once more.

I shall have no other gods before me...

but thee, O master.

I shall go wherever
thou commandest...

and shall do thy biddings.

Master.

I'm ready to bargain.

- I'm Mrs. Clarkson.
- Good evening.

- Is Mrs. Delancey in?
- Yes, but she's work...

Of course she is.
I saw the light in the studio.

Someone smashed one of her headlights.
Shouldn't leave the Rolls in plain view.

Neighborhood's full
of rich teenage bastards.

Yes, yes, thank you. You're so right.

Why, Paula, how lovely.

I was just coming down for a drink.
Would you care to join me?

- No, thank you.
- Tea or something?

I don't have time.

He's not here. What do you want?

I've made a bargain with the master.

What are you talking about?

He's on my side now.

You're insane.

Bennet.

Oh, Myles. Please help me.

- Paula, answer the phone.
- Mums, sweet peas, daisies.

- Perfect if she's Virgo. Ls she Virgo?
- I kind of doubt it.

Would you like to enclose a card?
We have beautiful messages.

- Best wishes for speedy recovery.
- No, listen...

I'll deliver those myself.

Thank you. Put that on my account?

- Yes, ma'am.
- Thank you.

Paula?

Paula?

Paula?

Paula?

Paula?

They made her do it.
They made her kill herself.

That Roxanne bitch and Myles.

They made her believe all that
nonsense about Satanism.

Come on, Maggie.
Isn't that a little far-fetched?

Is it?

What on earth is that?

It was on her face when I found her.

I don't want people to know that
she believed in that madness.

Roxanne.

Good news.

- She's dead?
- Yes.

- Are you sure?
- I was at the Wilcox Ave. Police station.

They were very sympathetic.

Broke the news to me.

- Suicide.
- How dreadful.

Yes. Isn't it?

What'd you put on your hands?

I've changed my perfume.

Shalimar.

Do you like it?

I hate it. It's what our little housewife
used to wear.

Really?