All language subtitles for The.Truth.About.the.Harry.Quebert.Affair.S01E08.Got.It.All.Wrong-eng

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

I told you, Bobbo.

Harry Quebert is taking
Jenny to Augusta

to see the fireworks.

Who's Harry Quebert?

Mom, I don't think he's coming.

Who the hell is getting married?

Excuse me.

Tell us already.

What are we supposed
to be celebrating?

Um...

My dear friends,

we have a new color television.

Robert has cancer.

- What?
- Here's to Bobbo.

You poor thing.

My God!

Luther, you scared me! Geez!

What does he want from you?

He's a friend.
You're hurting me.

Did somebody do that
to you, Jenny?

You know Luther Caleb,
Stern's chauffeur?

I had hoped
that Nola would be the last,

that he would paint her

and get whatever it was
out of his system.

So you think it was Luther
who killed Nola?

I've thought so
for the last 33 years.

Is this Luther's handwriting?

His instructions
for pruning roses.

You can keep it
if it'll help you.

Nola's home life
was not a happy one.

Nola, is somebody beating you?

It's my mom.

She says I'm a wicked girl.

That's crazy.

My mother told me
I had to be punished.

Take a look at that.

"Nola, my darling,

were you to die,
where would my love go?"

Keep it in your safe for now.

You're gonna be a great writer,

and we're gonna get
a big sun-colored dog,

a Labrador we'll name Storm.

The big news out of the State
courthouse this morning

is that Harry Quebert
is being released on bail

due to lack of evidence.

The handwriting isn't Harry's.

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

Gareth is staying
at the Montburry Motel

since his release.

They informed everyone in town

there's a registered
sex offender in their midst.

Pratt found
the black Monte Carlo,

then he dismissed it?

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

No, actually, I already know.

Pratt, open up!

Shit!

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It appears there's been
a development...

Chief Pratt killed himself?

You'd think so, but no.

Murdered.

What?

Yeah, a couple of good whacks

at the back of the head.

That's like Nola.

Pratt was protecting somebody

who was afraid
that now he'd talk.

With everybody knowing
what he did to Nola,

he knew he had nothing to lose.

Yeah, except his life.

Yeah, except that.

You have a theory?

I keep coming back
to Elijah Stern.

What if Stern got home
from meetings that day,

August 30th, like he said.

He finds Luther gone,
and so is the Monte Carlo.

Maybe he hears on the radio
that Nola is missing,

and that sends him out
searching for Luther,

worried he's mixed up in it...

Evening, Officer.

- Evening.
- What's going on?

Well, we got reports
of a missing girl in the area,

so we're asking people
to stay off the roads

until we find her.

Missing girl?

Where are you headed tonight?

I was just on my way home,

but I'm sure
I can find another way.

We'd appreciate that, sir,

if you don't mind
turning around.

Have a good night.

You too.

But maybe instead of going home,

Stern drove to Goose Cove.

Maybe he finds Luther there,

who confesses to killing
Deborah Cooper as well...

Please help me.

Get a shovel and a pickaxe
from the shed.

Luther tended
the grounds at Goose Cove,

so it makes sense that
they would bury Nola there.

After they dig the grave,

Luther could've secretly written

the farewell note to Nola.

After that,

Stern needs to find
a way to protect Luther,

and that way is Pratt.

Pratt?

Let's say Luther
saw Pratt grab Nola,

pull her into his car.

You know, Luther had been
watching her like a hawk.

Let's say he told Stern.

Stern goes to see Pratt.

He tells him, "You let Luther
get out of town clean",

and I'll let you get away with
what you did to that girl."

But even if Pratt lets him
get away with the murder,

maybe Luther can't live
with what he did.

I'm so sorry, Eli.

He commits suicide
a few days later

by driving his car off a cliff.

And the weirdest part
in all this, though...

why would Stern go
through all this mess,

I mean, maybe even kill someone,

to protect Luther?

Still trying
to figure that part out.

They're burying her today,
aren't they?

Yeah.

They're burying her,
and I'm not there.

I wish I was dead.

And may she rest
in eternal peace.

Hi, um...

can I just get a hot tea
and a shot of brandy, please?

Be right back.

Thank you.

"Female of the species
with a formidable sting."

Four letters, starts with "W."

Ha! "Wife."

I think it's "wasp."

Hey, Mr. Quinn.

Yeah.

May I?

Of course.

Thanks.

How's your book going?

Slowly.

There's a lot of gray areas
to clear up, you know.

Listen, I wanted to ask you, um,

did your wife ever mention
a compromising note she had

that Harry Quebert wrote?

How did you know about that?

Well, your wife told me.

She told me,

but then she said
it went missing,

and I...

Look, all due respect,

it's a little hard to know
what to believe

when it comes to...

Believe her, Mr. Goldman.

My wife may not be the sweetest
thing in the world,

but she doesn't lie.

Mr. Quinn?

Nola? Hey, sweetie.

How are you?

Um...

I have to talk to you.

What's up, kiddo?

This, um... this morning,

I went by Mrs. Quinn's office

to pick up my paycheck,

and I overheard her
talking with Chief Pratt.

Take a look at that.

"Nola, my darling,"

were you to die,
where would my love go?

To lose you is to lose
every part of me,

for I have secretly
bequeathed to you

"all that I am..."

See, he's a criminal

and a sexual predator.

Now, what are you
gonna do about it?

Well, I can't do
anything right away.

Why the hell not?

You entered his house
illegally, Tamara.

You stole his property.

I could get in trouble

just for having this
in my possession.

Then what do you suggest we do?

Keep it in your safe for now.

And don't worry,

you'll see how we deal
with guys like that

around here.

Okay, and...?

I need you to get
that note, Mr. Quinn.

I beg you to get
that note, please,

or Harry will go to jail, and...

it'll be all my fault.

I-I-I'm sorry, Nola, I don't...

He only wrote that note

because I tried to kill myself.

It's all my fault.

I'm sorry, Nola, I don't...
I don't... I...

Mr. Quinn,

please, I'm begging you.

Please help me.

Please help us,
do you understand?

I can't do
what you're asking me to.

I can't... condone

whatever's going on
between the two of you.

For the love of God?

I don't think God would
approve of it either.

We love each other
like no one's ever loved.

Look at me.

Our love is pure,
and it's beautiful,

and I would do anything for him.

Anything, do you understand?

If I lose him, Mr. Quinn,

it's like losing
a part of myself...

the best part of myself.

I'll never find anyone
like him again.

I don't know what to say, Nola.

You know what it feels like,
Mr. Quinn.

Love?

When you know...

Maybe we should go in the house

and have a hot chocolate
or something.

No, Mr. Quinn, we can't just
go and have a hot chocolate.

Just relax.

Are you listening to me,
Mr. Quinn?

I am, but, you know,

you're just going
through something now.

You need to relax...

Am I going through something?

I need him to stay alive,
Mr. Quinn,

so can you just please
listen to me?

Are you gonna
get that note for me?

I-I can't, I can't.

I...

I'm sorry, Nola.

It was incredible,
her passion and intensity...

And I envied her.

What she felt for Harry

was something I had never felt
for anyone myself.

And that's when I realized

I had probably
never been in love.

I asked her what she intended
to do about Chief Pratt,

since he knew about the note.

Right.

Come in?

Well, hello, Nola.

What's going on?

She said not to worry, she'd...

think of a way to keep him
from getting involved.

Holy shit.

Of course, I didn't know
what that meant

until he got arrested.

Right.

And so you told her
you'd help her.

Just drink it, honey bunny.

You'll sleep better.

Screw you, Tamara!

Making up some story
I got cancer

'cause your party sucks!

Screw you and your gossip,
and your meddling,

your, "Don't touch me,
I'm too tired."

Take it away."

"My Bobbo."

The sweetest, dearest man
I have ever known.

If only I could tell him

"that I'll love him
till my dying breath."

"Nola, my darling..."

You know
what it feels like, Mr. Quinn.

Love?

Three days

after Robert Quinn stole
the incriminating note

from Mrs. Quinn's safe

and burned it,

Nola Kellergan disappeared,

never to be heard from again.

As time passed,

and the case
of her disappearance

and Deborah Cooper's murder
remained unsolved,

a permanent unease
settled over the town.

Children were no longer
allowed to play outside

without supervision.

Before long,

the streets would take on
the disturbing hush

of a ghost town.

Harry coped with
Nola's disappearance

by burying himself in his work.

He spent his days
locked away in his office,

turning his pile
of handwritten pages

into a meticulously revised
typewritten manuscript.

As the summer turned to fall,

Harry remained sequestered
in Goose Cove.

The only person
who visited him was Jenny,

who showed up every day
after her shift

with a box filled with
provisions from Clark's.

Hello?

Got some snacks!

Harry?

Thank you, Jenny.

Thank you very much.

You'll be next.

Wait here, please.

Thank you very much.

Hey.

Hi.

Hello?

Yeah, in bottles.

Good morning, listeners.

12 cases.

If you're still shopping

for Christmas presents,

"The Origin of Evil"
by Harry Quebert...

Good, we'll see you then.

Is still at the top
of every bestseller list

after eight weeks.

Publisher Schmid and Hanson

warns that the book is sold out
in many bookshops,

but they are doing their best
to assure a reprint

before the end of the year.

If you are lucky enough
to get a copy,

I wish you a good read
and a merry Christmas...

♪ Faithful friends
who are dear to us ♪

♪ Will be near to us
once more ♪.

Merry Christmas, Storm.

What is it?

Yes!

Come here, you.

Come here, you...

What are you doing?
What are you doing?

Yes.

™ª Hang a shining star
upon the highest bough ♪

♪ And have yourself a merry
little Christmas now ♪.

Five! Four!

Three! Two! One!

Happy New Year!

It's gonna be a good year.

Something tells me.

All right, well,
I might go to bed.

Already?

Yeah, I'm feeling kind of tired.

Okay.

Night.

Night, Mom.

All right, Happy New Year, Dad.

Jenny?

Yeah?

Miss Jenny Quinn,

would you consider marrying
Mr. Travis Dawn,

a Sommerdale police officer,

who is in love

with the most beautiful
girl in Maine?

Yes.

Yes?

Yes!

Good night.

Aah!

You can't eat that!

Storm, that's for the birds.

What are you doing?
That's for the birds.

You can't eat that.

What is that for?

That's for the birds.

Come on.

Come on.

I know.

How's your shoulder? I know.

How is that shoulder of yours?

I know.
You can't have the bread.

Let's give it to the birds.
See? There they are.

Hey! Mr. Quebert!

Can I have a moment
of your time?

Come on, Storm.

Let's go.

I don't know what to say.

I'll take that as a "yes," then.

I'm delighted.

All right.

Let me show you out.

Did you see that, Storm?

I'm gonna be
a college professor.

What do you think
of that, Storm?

College professor...

Hey.

The results are in.

The handwriting
on the manuscript

is Luther Caleb's.

Shit.

Well...

We got our guy.

We got our guy.

In light of the recent evidence,

the court finds Luther Caleb,

now deceased,

guilty of the 1975 murders

of Nola Kellergan
and Deborah Cooper.

In the matter of Maine
versus Harry Quebert,

bail is hereby exonerated,

and all charges
against him, dismissed.

Let me just say that
the system worked perfectly.

For those of you who say
it took us 33 years

to solve Nola Kellergan
and Deborah Cooper's murders,

I say it's better than rushing
to the wrong conclusion.

The Maine State Police
took the necessary time

to make sure we got it right.

Marisa!

The timing couldn't
be more perfect.

Three weeks' time,

it's all gonna be about
the presidential election.

Nobody's gonna give a shit

whether Harry Quebert
killed the pope.

Life, it's all about priorities.

So is commerce, my friend.

Anyway, the boys in Marketing

put together some ideas
for a cover.

What do you think?

This one's nice.

I mean, I didn't realize
Quasimodo was in my book.

Roy?

These are so cheesy

I can literally feel
my cholesterol rising.

Okay, okay, okay...

Okay?

W-We'll dial it back,
we'll dial it back.

Please.

Shouldn't you be at work?

Yeah, yeah.

Go, go, go, go...

I'm going.

Three weeks from now,

I can expect a manuscript, yeah?

Yes, that is the plan.

Not three weeks and a day, okay?

Three weeks.

The Times is pushing Philip Roth

to review your book!

Three weeks.

I won't read it.

Harry, I need your approval
before it gets published, okay?

This book is yours.

No.

It's your book, Marcus,

and that's the problem.

What's the problem?

It's complicated.

"It's complicated," okay.

You know what?

This is insane.

I'll call you from New York.

Probably best that you don't.

After months of digging

and piecing it together,

my exposé about Nola's murder
was finally published.

Um, could you...

sign your name here, please?

Both or just...

Just here.

Okay.

It was the hottest-selling.

True Crime book in the country.

Thank you.

That day,

Nola decided not to walk
along Shore Road,

but to take the path
along the forest

that led to the beach.

Desperate not to keep
her beloved waiting,

she valiantly hewed her way
through the brush,

careful not to tear
the red dress she'd worn

for the occasion...

her favorite.

What she didn't know

was that Luther Caleb had
followed her into the woods,

determined to keep her
for himself.

Another two miles to walk,
and she would reach the hotel

where Harry
would be waiting for her.

One more hour,

and they would be
on their way to Canada

and a new life,

away from her abusive mother

who had inflicted
such cruelty on Nola

all these years.

She would finally be free...

or so she thought,

because Nola's story
would not have a happy ending.

And I love that
the critics are claiming

that The Origin of Evil
should only be read

in conjunction with our book,

because, and I quote,

"The character of Nola Kellergan"

no longer represents
an impossible love,

"but the omnipotence of love."

Right. Whatever
the hell that means.

It means a limited edition
box set, baby,

containing The Origin of Evil,
The Harry Quebert Affair,

and an analysis of the text

by the New York
Review of Books, baby!

Hi, Sergeant.

Don't tell me.

Your wife loved it,
but you loved it more, right?

Check your e-mail.

Okay.

Yeah, well, just
hang on one second.

I'll just check it on my phone.

What kind of
fancy-ass phone has e-mail?

It's brand new.

Yeah, the company
just sent me one.

I could probably
hook you up if you want.

Look, just check
your e-mail, would you?

Okay.

Yeah, it's...

it's a picture of,
like, a cemetery headstone?

Enlarge the gravestone.

Louisa Kellergan...

1966?

What the hell is this?

Nola's mother died in 1966,

nine years before
Nola disappeared.

She was beaten by a dead woman.

Where did you get this?

Photo was sent to the newspaper

by one of your female admirers
in Alabama,

so the whole country
is about to know

my investigation screwed up,

and that your book
is a pile of crap.

Um...

Let me call you back.

After we got
back from the Adirondacks,

Nola came to me.

She said her mother
beat her with a ruler.

I could see the bruises.

That's criminal.

But it gets worse.

I don't understand.

Why don't you want
anyone to know this?

All right.
Time's up, Quebert, let's go.

I made a horrible
discovery about her mother.

What discovery?

I said time's up. Let's go.

I made a horrible
discovery about her mother.

Please don't tell me

that you never finished
that conversation.

Fuck!

Hey.

Hey!

Hey. You're not Harry.

What tipped you off?

Hi, man, we're...

we're looking for a guest
who was stay...

We're looking for a guest
who was staying in Room 8?

A Harry Quebert?

Is he still...
Is he still staying here?

"Quebert" with a "Q"?

Yeah. Q-U-E...

Harry Quebert
checked out a while ago.

On September 24th.

Right after he and this old guy
got into an argument.

It's a good thing
your friend took off, too,

'cause the old guy came back
with a rifle.

I called a cop.

Well, at least we can
find out who it was.

This is insane.

This is ab... This is insane.

Wait, wait, wait a sec!

He also said a young guy
would come looking for him,

and he would say,
"This is insane.

This is insane!"

You do say that a lot.

Go around!

Can I see it?

"Dear Marcus,"

if you're still
looking for answers,

this may interest you.

This book is the truth.

"Harry."

"The Seagulls of Sommerdale"
by Harry L. Quebert.

It's an unpublished
book of Harry's.

I don't know, he always said
Nola loved seagulls.

There must be some connection.

But what does that mean,
"This book is the truth"?

Man, this ending.

He and Nola,

living happily ever after?

I guess he made it
to writer's heaven.

What's that?

It's like when you, um...

you get to see your life

the way you wish you'd lived it.

I guess you...

write your way to being happy.

So what do you think
he's trying to tell you now?

"This book is the truth."

I have no fucking idea.

I don't know,
maybe you could try

telling us the truth this time.

I don't know what
you're implying, Mr. Goldman.

You came here
asking me questions,

and I answered them
to the best of my ability.

You told me Nola's mother
was beating her, and...

and how shocked you were
when she told you...

No, what I actually said,

and you can check your notes,

is that Nola told me
her mother beat her.

And yes, that was shocking,
considering the fact

that her mother had been dead
for nine years.

You never said anything
about her being dead.

I assumed you knew.

Everybody knew that.

How could you not know,

famous writer
from New York and all?

God...

I... I honestly didn't mean
to mislead you.

Okay.

Got the name of the old kook
who went after Harry.

I'm sure he'll be thrilled
to see you.

You're not welcome here,
Mr. Goldman.

You desecrated the memory
of my wife and daughter!

All right.

Just please put the gun down,

Mr. Kellergan.

Why did you threaten Harry
at the By The Sea Motel?

Because he's still alive,
and my daughter's dead!

All right, all right, hey!

That's enough, Reverend!

Give me the rifle!

I ought to sue you
for every penny you got.

I ought to sue you

for that trash you wrote.

And why haven't you
done that already?

I'll take everything
that you've got!

Why haven't you
done that already?

Writer!

No, no, no. No!

Why aren't we in court

right now?

Maybe it's because
you're the one you beat Nola!

I never laid a hand
on my daughter!

Or maybe it's just because

you don't want people
finding out

what happened in Alabama.

Okay, okay.

Okay, Reverend,
let's not lose our cool here.

Put down the gun.

And we are going to find out!

You are a devil.

You're a devil.

God...

Sorry about the
disturbance, Chief.

We'll be on our way.

Thanks for doing this.

Really appreciate it.

Happy to help.

Here.

Thought you might
find this interesting.

David Kellergan married
Louisa Bonneville

in 1955,

and became a pastor

in the parish of Mount Pleasant.

Five years later, Nola was born.

To everybody,

they seemed like the perfect.

God-fearing Alabama family...

until the tragedy in 1966.

What tragedy?

The Reverend came home
at 200 a.m.

after spending the evening

at a dying parishioner's
bedside.

Louisa! God!

Louisa!

Nola!

His wife was found
burned to death,

but his daughter survived.

The tragedy occurred
on August 30th.

Holy shit!

Nola disappeared
nine years later to the day.

For a long time after,
there was some talk.

I mean, the pastor
just so happens

to show up in time
to save his daughter,

but not his wife.

Seems fishy, but they had
no evidence against him.

Pastor Lewis worked
at a neighboring parish.

He was a good friend
of the Kellergans.

You'll see,

he's still pretty sprightly
for a 90-year-old.

I have never known...

a family...

as happy...

as that one.

David and Louisa,

they were made by the Lord

to love one another.

And Nola,

my...

She was...

an extraordinary,

beautiful little girl.

It gave you
undying hope in humanity.

Until one day...

we exorcised her.

But...

it didn't go as planned.

You exorcised who?

Nola, the little girl.

That girl
had so much evil in her.

The devil's claws
were stuck deep in her heart,

into the depths of her soul.

The night of the fire did not go

quite the way David Kellergan
told the police.

Nola!

Louisa!

God!

Nola...

Nola?

Nola! Nola!

Nola!

™ª Singing polly-wolly
doodle all day ♪

♪ Fare thee well
Fare thee well ♪

♪ Fare thee well, my fairy fey ♪

♪ For I'm going to Louisiana
to see my Susyanna ♪

♪ Singing polly-wolly
doodle all day ♪.

They stayed that night with me.

I have never seen a man
so broken.

He must have thought

that little girl was in shock...

Hi, Daddy.

Hey, sweetie.

I gotta tell you something.

You remember last night?

There was a fire at our house?

Yes?

It wasn't just a bad dream.

I know.

Something very serious happened.

Something very sad.

Mommy was in our bedroom

when the fire happened, and...

she couldn't get out.

She died.

I know.

She was wicked.

She needed to be dead,

so I put the curtains on fire.

We tried to force
the devil from her body...

but Satan is stubborn!

So you beat a little girl.

No.

We beat the devil.

But Satan is strong.

That little girl

started to believe

that she herself was her mother.

She was punishing herself,

whipping herself,

plunging her head
into a bath of icy water.

Well...

that poor little girl,

she was in agony.

Her father couldn't
take any more.

So he decided

to move them both far away.

We're here, Nola.

We're home.