All language subtitles for The.Truth.About.the.Harry.Quebert.Affair.S01E07.Persona.Non.Grata.1080p.STAN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H264-SiGMA_eng

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

Oh, wow, what is this?

It's for putting dry bread in,

so you can feed the seagulls.

Tell me I'm your...

your darling Nola.

You're my darling Nola.

Crime scene photos.

What is on the first page
of this goddamn manuscript?

This is not my writing.

If you didn't write this,

who the fuck did?

I can't stay here.

I can't afford this house.

We'll find us a way.

We'll find it.

It doesn't matter,
we'll make it work.

We always make it work.

Don't you love me?

Yes.

That's all that matters.

Harry didn't kill that girl,
I know it.

Because he's your friend?

Because there's
someone out there

who doesn't want me
to figure out who did.

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.

The path through the forest
goes to the beach.

Someone's beating you
again, aren't they?

Yes, for disappearing
for a week.

That's when she told me

about her being in love
with an older man.

Didn't name names,

but I was sure it was Stern.

My former chauffeur,
Luther Caleb, painted it.

I have witnesses
who will testify

that you two

were actually in a relationship.

The results are in, Goldman...

The handwriting isn't Harry's.

He didn't write the note
on that goddamn manuscript.

I mean, that was their main
piece of evidence.

Why didn't you carry
out the investigation

like you should have?

That girl knew exactly
what she was doing.

Nola...

Now you're a criminal.

It's the first 50 pages.

You know, it's rough, you know,
it's just notes, really.

Go ahead, give us all those
sordid, juicy details

about how she went down on him,

and then he forced her
to go down on him again.

Where are you taking me?

Detective, wh...?

Where are they taking
my husband?

What did you do?
Tell me!

I have some devastating news.

I've been hacked.

Those 50 pages of notes
you e-mailed me,

leaked to every major
news outlet

all over the country.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Roy? You have to
stop them, okay?

It's too late. By tomorrow,

this will be
all anybody's talking about.

They make it sound

like Nola was sleeping
with the whole town!

If it barks,
it's probably a dog, okay?

Facts are just facts.

Yeah, not when they're
taken out of context.

They printed my notes, Doug.

Okay, I was writing something,

something human,
and... and personal,

and they made it sound...

Better?

No, I'm... No,
I'm serious, man, okay?

You're my agent.

We need to do something
to restore my credibility here.

Morning.

"Jenny Dawn,
formerly Jenny Quinn..."

Shit.

...the current owner
of Clark's Diner,

still carries a torch
for Quebert...

Yeah.

An intense infatuation
that's lasted 33 years

"despite his total
lack of interest."

Yes. These
were notes, Jenny,

and they were not meant
for publication.

It's in every goddamn
newspaper in the country!

I have a husband, Marcus,

family, friends.

Did you ever think of that?

I'm... Jenny,
I'm very sorry, okay?

Sorry excuse for a friend,

I can tell you that much.

I didn't spend hours

giving you information
about Sommerdale

so you could turn it into
Freaktown, USA!

Ernie, Ernie, my notes...

my notes were leaked, okay?

I swear to God, none of this...

none of this was ever supposed
to end up in print!

Listen, if there's
anything I can do

to make it up to you...

There is, actually.

You can find
somewhere else to eat.

Hey, you got my message?

Libel schmibel,

you're gonna give yourself
an ulcer, Goldman.

You should be happy.

Your dirty book's the reason

that Harry is getting
released on bail.

Aren't you giving me
a little too much credit?

The handwriting analysis alone
would have gotten him off.

Oh, no, no, no.

That was the sundae,
this is the cherry on top.

I mean, turning Nola
into a gold-digging hooker,

that's genius.

Hey, hey, hey, hey,
I never said that.

Was Nola Kellergan really...?

Excuse me, just a minute.

Excuse me,
Mr. Roth.

Look, look, look,
just stay tuned...

Was Nola Kellergan
really seeing...?

Excuse me, just a minute.
Just stay tuned to CNN...

Mr. Roth!

Would you wait a minute, please?

Can you wait?

I'm on the phone!
Do you notice?

Right, sir.
Right you are.

So within the hour,
the DA is gonna come out,

and he's gonna take a huge dump
in front of the public.

You don't want to miss it.

All right, now please, go ahead.

Was Nola Kellergan really
seeing multiple men?

Of course she was. Yes.

Is the murder investigation

back to square one?

- Of course it is.
- It is?

It is! It is...

- Mr. Roth! Mr. Roth!
- Yes, ma'am.

Do you know who the killer is?

I know who the killer isn't.

Hi there.

Have a seat.

Hi.

Uh, just the scrambled eggs,

and a side
of hash browns, please.

- Right away.
- And some coffee.

Of course.
Thank you.

Hey!

The coffee's better at Clark's,

don't you think?

Uh...

But sleaze peddlers
and pedophiles' wives

can't be too choosy, can we?

Mrs. Pratt.

Maggie. Please.

Yeah.

So, they throw you
out of Clark's?

What, me? No. No.

Well...

kind of.

How are you, uh,
how are you holding up?

Gareth is staying
at the Montburry Motel

since his release.

They informed everyone in town

there's a registered
sex offender

in their midst.

Of course, by now
the chief's old news.

Your tawdry exposé this morning

was just a little post-it
to remind them.

Those pages were stolen, okay?

Good.

People should know
what happened,

what Gareth did.

Look, you know,

maybe you shouldn't be alone
right now.

Are you...

Are there friends you can
turn to for support, or...?

You know what
my support system is saying?

That Gareth did what he did
because I couldn't satisfy him.

Hey, nobody blames you.

Of course they do.

It's always the wife's fault.

I spent 40 years of my life

with a man who lied to me
for 33 of them.

So why do I still
set a place for him

every night?

The big news

out of the State courthouse
this morning

is that Harry Quebert,

arrested for the 1975
double murder

of Nola Kellergan
and Deborah Cooper

in Sommerdale,

has been released on bail
due to lack of evidence.

I'm standing
on the courthouse steps

with Quebert's lawyer,
Benjamin Roth.

You mind holding this?
Thank you.

Look, as I've said

from the very beginning
of this ordeal...

my client is an innocent man,

and we have every faith

that Judge Havenhurst
will drop the charges

in light of these new findings.

Mr. Roth!
Mr. Roth!

I'm sorry, but I don't have time

for more questions.

The biggest danger

is losing control
of your own book.

It quickly goes from this
private creative experience

to a public one.

And then it's not yours anymore.

You know, it's...

it's owned by everybody,

and that's... that's
where you're screwed.

Let's go. Come on.

It's, uh...

not exactly the "welcome home"
I was going for.

Is your car working?

Yeah.

Yeah, it's just...

Good.
Climb in it.

And get the hell
off my property.

Harry, you need
to listen to me, okay?

Why?

Why... would you let Barnaski
send those lies

about Nola to the press?

They were hacked.

Are you really
that naive, Marcus?

For God's sake, Marcus, grow up.

You are not welcome
here anymore.

Yes.

Take me to By The Sea Motel.

Okay. Okay. All right.

I don't want
to speak to you, Roy.

I just saw the news.
Are you hurt?

I'm fine.

I hope you didn't lose
any valuables in the fire...

without backing them up first.

Yeah, I'm not
finishing the book.

Don't be a drama queen.

Put your big-boy pants on.

Do you really think
I'm that naive, Roy?

You got hacked?

No. No, no, no,

you leaked those pages
for publicity, and now...

Look, people's lives
are involved here, man.

I sell books, Marcus.

That's my job.

Why don't you concentrate
on doing your job?

Excuse me, you can't make me.

Oh, really?

Well, I think I can.

This is America!

I own you, just like
my shareholders own me.

Unless you want
to return the advance

and face
a breach-of-contract lawsuit.

Come on.

You gotta be kidding me.

...just getting pulled over.
Okay, great, all right.

You going somewhere, writer?

How did you find me?

There's only one
Range Rover in town

with your name
written in red letters

on its hood.

Ah, well, I've collected
enough enemies here,

so it's time for me to leave.

Oh, you mean "quit"?

Come on, man, I thought
you were a fighter.

Or do you only shadow box?

They pillaged my book.

You haven't even
written it yet, all right?

You have no idea how it ends.

Relax, man.

This one could actually
turn out to be, uh...

readable.

Uh-huh.
You know, Sergeant,

if they ever kick you
off the force,

I think you've got a real future

in motivational speaking, okay?

Excuse me.

Look, man.

The DA's blaming me

for arresting Harry too quickly.

I'm up to my neck in shit,

so I need you to grab a shovel,

help dig me out.

I want you to stay

and help me finish
the investigation.

What, because I'm invaluable?

No, because you're white.

Up here in Maine,
not everybody loves it

when a black guy
comes knocking on their door.

Badge or no badge.

No.

No, Harry's house
is in ashes, man.

Where would I sleep?

I...

Uh, with that
million-dollar advance

I just read about in the paper,

I'm pretty sure
you'll be able to find a roof

big enough to put over
that swollen head of yours.

And cover my lunches.

I'll buy you a couple
of new ties, too.

I have a gun,

you know that, right?

Asshole.

I had six weeks
to turn things around

and write a book
I could be proud of.

We started the whole
investigation over again...

Why was Stern
paying her to pose?

I also own a portrait
of John Lennon.

Am I a suspect
in his murder too?

Rereading every police report,

witness interview,
forensic analysis...

And then Pratt.

Hi, Nola!

Need a lift?

Did she threaten to talk?

Tamara Quinn had evidence.

"Nola, my darling."

I kept it in the safe
at Clark's.

Who stole it?

Parents beat her... Why?

Go back
to the hell you came from!

They found fingerprints
on the gas cap, but no match.

Which means it was someone
with no police record.

No record?

So many divergent clues,

questions unanswered...

We still have the manuscript
with the note.

Whoever wrote "Darling Nola"
was no stranger.

He clearly knew the roads,
the forest,

and that Harry was gone.

- Uh-huh.
- Which makes him a local.

A local who drove
a black Monte Carlo.

Mm-hm.

What about Caleb?

Yeah, a Blue Mustang,
not a black Monte Carlo.

Yeah, in the dark, though,
you know...

Doubtful.

Luther does have a sister

who lives down in Massachusetts.

Might be worth paying her
a little visit.

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

I gotta do something first.

It was Roth who told me

that Harry was staying in Room 8

at the By The Sea Motel.

I knew he didn't want
to see me again

after what I wrote about Nola,

but I had to make things right
between us...

or at least try.

I'm sorry, Harry.

About everything.

Why did you write
those horrible things

about Nola?

Hmm.

This is about your legacy.

Okay, "The Origin of Evil"

is one of the most
important novels...

Please, for God's sake,
just shut up!

You don't understand, do you?

Understand?
No, I...

Hmm.

Understand what?

Do you remember what I told you

when you were my student?

The advice I gave you?

About you never start a book

unless you know
how it's going to end.

What's the ending
of your book like?

I think it's a beautiful ending.

She dies at the end.

It doesn't end with her death.

Okay, there's good things
can happen afterwards.

Like what?

Like the man who spent
30 years waiting for her

begins to live again.

"To want and not to have."

To wait when there is no hope.

"It's not life, but longing..."

"Great love crowns"

and crucifies,

"but remains eternal."

You're right,

he's a better writer than you.

Yeah.

We found a portrait
of Nola Kellergan

at Elijah Stern's house.

We know that your brother
Luther painted it.

So you...

think he killed her?

He's on our list of suspects.

I've been expecting
this visit for years.

And why didn't you
call the police?

It's complicated.

Everything about Luther
was complicated.

Growing up,
he showed such promise.

Everyone said he had a gift.

This is Luther.

Or at least it was

before his life was destroyed.

This is Eleanore.

She was his high-school
sweetheart.

They were gonna get married
after he got out of the army.

He was walking home one night

after dropping her
at her house...

Check him out!

Check him out!
Yes! Get him!

Come on!

Fucking redneck!

Hey, redneck!

Yeah!

Hey!

Where you going?

And he is down
on the 20-yard line!

Oh!

Oh!

Get him!
Get him! Oh!

You're up! Show us what you got!
Let's go!

You fucking redneck!

Oh!

All right, he had enough.

Come on, let's go.

No one ever found the boys

that did that to him.

After six months in a coma,

Eleanore left him.

He fell into a deep depression.

And he was that way
for a long time.

I'm sorry to disturb you,

but I seem to have a flat tire.

If you hadn't
answered that door,

I don't know what I'd have done.

Are you a mechanic?

No.

The nail was the problem.

Ah, I see.

May I ask...

what happened to your face?

I had an accident.

I'm so sorry.

I happen to run
a transport company,

and have a fair number of cars.

You wouldn't by any chance
be interested in a job?

It's yours if you want it.

That visitor was Elijah Stern.

And thanks to him,
Luther became someone again.

Having a job

put meaning back
into Luther's life.

I kept all
his belongings down here,

if you'd like to see them.

These were all his paintings?

Yeah, that's what
he loved to do.

That's Eleanore.

Oh, God, she looks like Nola.

Yeah.

Your brother, he, uh...

he had a thing for blondes?

Yeah, because of Eleanore.

A way to hold on to
what he'd lost.

After his accident,

Luther became a little
strange with women.

They didn't always know
he was drawing them.

My father was certain

that something
must have happened

between him and that girl, Nola.

Luther had mentioned
her name to him,

and that...

he was in love with her.

These, uh...

Is this Luther's handwriting?

His instructions
for pruning roses.

You can keep it
if it'll help you.

That's it.

So in your mind,

this Nola was
a manipulative seductress,

and that would make
Harry Quebert...?

The real victim.
Yes.

But that's ridiculous.

She was only 15.

You make it sound like

she seduced half the men
in Sommerdale.

That's only because I'm not sure
about the other half.

Roth. Go.

Hey!

Yeah, uh, were you watching?

I crushed it, right?

You're disgusting, Roth.

You drag everyone's name
through the mud like that.

Look, I'm just
doing my job, Goldman.

I mean, the only way
I can clear Harry's name

is by making everybody else
seem more repulsive than he is.

Let us not forget

your book is doing
a bang-up job of that as well.

Asshole.

I'm not blaming you, Marcus,

and I already knew about
Jenny's crush on Quebert.

Okay.

Now, you said there was
something you needed to discuss?

Yeah, um,

we got some new information
about Luther Caleb.

Okay.

We found a portrait of Nola

that he painted
at Elijah Stern's house.

Um, apparently, she was
a frequent guest there.

Yeah, I read about that.

I understand, um, he had
a harassment complaint

filed against him.

He was a weird guy.

I don't know
how dangerous he was,

but one time he got
aggressive with Jenny.

Grabbed her hard, bruised her.

And why wasn't he investigated
as a serious suspect?

Well, he didn't drive
a black Monte Carlo,

for one thing.

And there was
no obvious connection

between him and Nola
at the time...

Mm-hmm.

Plus, he, uh...

he left town
before she even disappeared.

Are you sure?

Yeah, I'm sure.

I, uh...

I saw him a couple days
before Nola disappeared,

and he...

he knew he wasn't supposed
to hang around Sommerdale,

so when I saw him driving
on Shore Road, I, uh...

I pulled him over.

Look, uh...

I'm not proud of this,
but I just, uh...

I lost it.

Please...

If I ever see you

prowling around
Sommerdale again,

I don't care why,

your dick is gonna wish
it looked like your face.

Clear?

You think he listened to you?

I never heard from him again.

Till about a month later

when I got the report

that he'd died
in an auto accident.

Somewhere in Maine, I think.

Uh-huh, well, still,

it's possible
that he could have hid out

without you knowing, right?

I mean, he knew the area.

If he didn't
want to be seen, he could've...

I doubt it.

People were flooding into town
to help search,

you know, strangers canvassing,
teams of dogs,

and no one ever
reported seeing Luther,

and I'd have heard
about it, believe me.

Those were pretty dark times,
I'm telling you.

How's the search going, Travis?

Um, haven't found
anything yet, Mrs. Quinn.

It's pretty depressing.

What about Harry Quebert?

Is he a suspect?

'Cause he should be.

That's a serious
accusation, Mrs. Quinn.

Unless you have
some hard evidence.

Evidence, right.

The truth can go to hell
without hard evidence.

What a world.

Have you eaten yet, Travis?

Um, actually...

I'll just go see
if Jenny's back.

Thank you.

Jenny?

She's upstairs.

Oh, okay.

Sweetie pie?

Hi.

Travis Dawn is downstairs.

He's such a nice boy.

He's not bad looking
in the right light.

You know, I was thinking, like,

why don't you invite him
to lunch with us on Sunday?

Mom...

he's not my type.

I know what your type is,

and Harry Quebert
is not a nice man.

There's no future
between the two of you,

believe me.

Now, we're having lunch
with Travis on Sunday,

and you're gonna love it.

Now, go downstairs
and thank him for the flowers,

and try not to mention
they're dead.

It's the thought that counts.

Oh, great.

Come on, break time's over.

Ernie?

Hey.

Uh...

What are you doing here?

I shouldn't have said
those things to you.

I had no idea you were
receiving threats.

Yeah.

And-and that you didn't leave.

You're an exceptional
person, Marcus.

People are gonna remember you.

Thank you, Ernie.

Thanks, man.
You... you too.

No. Ha ha!

Nobody's gonna remember
Ernie Pinkas.

I had my chance, though.

Yup...

When Harry was writing his book,

he promised to put me
in the acknowledgements.

Oh, is that right?

Yeah.

"First name on the list,"
he said.

Promises are a cheap thing
to some people.

You know?

Well, take care, Marcus.

Again, sorry for what I said.

How's your investigation
coming along?

I found this at Goose Cove.

And these.

In case you felt like
clobbering something

besides your shadow.

I love you like a son,
and I always will,

but our relationship is over.

I don't understand.

I know you don't.

But when you do,
it's all gonna be different.

What?

Would you stop talking
in goddamn riddles?

What is...?
What are you hiding?

Shit!

Let me see.

I've given you everything.

The truth is in your hands.

What the fuck
is that supposed to mean?

This is "The Origin Of Evil,"

a moment I've been dreading
for 33 years.

Hey, Mom, can I call you later?

Sweetie, there's a headline
in the Times

that says
someone wants you dead.

Should we be worried?

No, no, no.

That's just my publisher

trying to drum up
publicity, okay?

Listen...

your father and I think
you should get a gun.

They are very easy
to get in Maine,

from what I understand.

Everyone has one.

Mom, I'm not gonna
get a gun, okay?

Got you a coffee.

Who's that?

It's no one, Ma.

Hi, Mrs. Goldman.

Hello.

Look, sweetie,

I'm not gonna pry,

your love life is your own.

I just hope he's big
and can protect you.

I'm real big, Mrs. Goldman.

Mom, let me just
call you later, okay?

I love you.

Could you not
with my mother on the phone?

I already like her better
than my real mother-in-law.

Guess who I went
to see last night.

Last night? Um...

Elijah Stern without me?

You're getting better at this.

Hey.

Hey, um...

I'm looking for...

Elijah?

Yes.

I'll get him.

Eli!

You got a visitor.

I guess I'll take a shower.

Good evening, Sergeant.

Come in.

Oh, my God, Stern's gay.

Mm-hm.

Said they've been
together 28 years.

Then what the hell was
going on between him and Nola?

Aw, gee, man, good question.

Should have asked that.

As I told you,

it was purely
a business arrangement.

Meaning?

One evening that summer,
it must have been July,

she rang my doorbell.

He's writing a wonderful book,
a masterpiece,

but if he has to move out now,
he'll never finish it,

and that would be such a waste.

You can't control
who you love, Mr. Stern.

And what do you want from me,

Miss Kellergan?

I want you to hire me.

Let me work for you
for as long as it takes,

so Harry can stay in Goose Cove.

Confidentially, of course.

I already have enough employees.

I'll do anything.

Would you excuse me
for a moment?

Eli, please?

Could I, please...

Luther, no.
Not again...

Please, please, please!

She looks like Eleanore.

Eleanore?

Yes. Please.

I am prepared to hire you,
Miss Kellergan,

and to let Harry Quebert
stay at Goose Cove

for as long as he wishes.

Really? Thank you...

You haven't heard
what you'll be doing yet.

Anything you want, sir.

I would like
to hire you as a model.

My chauffeur happens to be
a very fine painter.

If you agree
to pose nude for him,

Mr. Quebert can
stay in the house.

I knew it was wrong,

but I established strict rules

for her protection.

I set them up in a small room
right next to my office,

and I remained nearby

to make sure that
he didn't try anything.

I even put an intercom in there,

so that I could make sure...

Eli...

I don't know what to say.

He never touched her.

I would never have allowed it.

So Stern wasn't
the generous benefactor

Harry thought he was.

But why would Stern let Luther
do something like that?

I mean, unless...

Was there something going on
between the two of them?

I mean, he assured me

that he just
felt sorry for the guy.

Uh-huh.

I hired him out of pity,

and had grown fond of him.

I had hoped

that Nola would be the last,

that he would paint her,

and get whatever it was
out of his system, but...

that's not what happened.

He would just... sit there,

staring at the poor girl.

Miss Kellergan,
are you all right?

One night as she left,

I took her hand,
and it was cold as ice...

...and I just couldn't
do it anymore.

But ending it
wasn't that simple.

She had...
awakened something in Luther,

and he'd fallen in love
with his model.

He'd become
consumed by jealousy...

...obsessed by Quebert,

whom he considered
a competitor...

I'll be right back.

Okay.

He started spying on him
at every possible moment.

One day, I followed him
to Goose Cove

and saw him there, hiding.

I wanted to scare him off,

make him think
he just dodged a bullet,

so I acted as if I'd just
popped in to see Quebert...

You're working
too hard, Quebert!

Elijah Stern!

What a surprise to see you here!

Come on up on the deck.

I told Luther it was done...

that the painting sessions
were over,

and I forbade him to go
to Sommerdale ever again.

And how did he take it?

Not well.

He continued to go,
despite my warnings.

A few weeks later,
we had a terrible argument.

He swore at me

before storming off
and slamming the door.

That was Friday, August 29th.

When he didn't show up
the next day,

I went into Sommerdale,

only to find
police cars everywhere.

Nola had disappeared.

So you think it was Luther
who killed Nola?

I've thought so
for the last 33 years.

Right.

And you never saw Luther again?

No.

The next day, his father called,

said he'd been
searching for him.

I couldn't bring myself

to tell him what had happened.

I said he was on vacation.

A month later, the police called

telling me
that he'd missed a turn,

driven off a cliff.

What is this?

That is Luther Caleb's
accident report.

Had an intern dig it up for me.

Yeah.

The make and model
of the vehicle was left blank.

- So, remind me who this guy is?
- Good job.

Wanslow.

He was a police officer
in Sagamore,

the one called to the scene
when they found Luther's car.

Hey.

Officer Wanslow?

Yes, sir.
How's it going?

Good, man.

Thanks for agreeing
to see us, Officer.

I know it's going back
a few years.

This is one of the things

you don't forget, trust me.

I've been telling them for years

they should put
a guard rail up here.

Must have been
cruising pretty good

to blast through the pullout.

Ah, Jesus...

Ooh!

We found papers on him

and determined
that he was Luther Caleb.

I ran his name.

There was a harassment
complaint up in Sommerdale,

and we'd all heard about
the Kellergan girl,

so I called
their chief of police.

He comes up right away.

We traced the license plate.

Belongs to an Augusta firm,

Stern Continental Transport.

Thank you for doing
such a thorough job, Officer.

Yeah, no problem.

Yeah, I know that firm well.

Belongs to the richest man
in Maine, Elijah Stern.

Unfortunately,

this isn't the vehicle I saw

during the pursuit.

What? But...

it's a black Monte Carlo
just like...

I know, I know, just...

It wasn't this one.

I don't know.

I-I-I'm not really,
really sure now

if it was a Monte Carlo.

Maybe it was a Nova.

Nova?

Okay...

You know, just file this
as a... a standard accident,

maybe leave off
the make and model.

Don't want to get everyone
all excited for no reason.

We all want to find
that poor girl.

Good work, Officer.

Sure. Uh, my pleasure.

So Pratt found
the black Monte Carlo,

then he dismissed it?

I hear his wife kicked him out.

I'll call the station
and find out where he is.

No, actually, I already know.

I think that's his truck.

Pratt?

The light's on.

There's the lady.

Excuse me.

Can you open this for us?

I can't.

Yes, you can.

No, I mean, I tried earlier.

It's bolted from the inside.

Pratt, open up!