Guess what.
What?
I can't move.
Yeah, well, you don't have to. You're in a car.
Am I driving?
Like a pro.
Come on, wake up, you fuck. Come on.
Did you try to help him get free?
Briefly.
Briefly?
When it came down to it, my life was more important to me than his.
Selfish, huh?
We found these...
...in your Spider.
Actually, I don't drive a Spider anymore.
Now I have a C8 Laviolette.
It's lighter, faster...
...swims better.
Right.
These three contain traces of ketamine...
...the same as we found in your blood and his.
This one had pure D-Tubocurarine, DTC...
...which we only found in him.
Must've been something he took at the party.
No. DTC is not a party drug.
Along with the other stuff in his blood, it paralyzed his lungs.
Kevin Franks did not drown.
He had already stopped breathing by the time you drove off the road.
He was breathing when we went off the road.
How do you know?
He was making me come.
What? You were having sex at 100 miles an hour?
Hundred and ten. I must've hit a pothole.
Your friend, Dickie Pep...
...says he sold you 15 milliliters of DTC last Thursday.
I don't know any Dickie Pep, but he's lying.
Or you are.
Why would he lie?
You got him on some other charge and he's trying to deal his way out.
If he even exists.
You don't seem too upset by what's happened.
Of course I am, I'm traumatized.
Who knows if I'll ever come again?
I want that cunt in jail.
We haven't got a case, Roy.
Well, just fucking make one. Please.
They'll order a psychiatric for bail.
I'll make sure we get somebody good and tough.
Dr. Glass. I'm Henry Rose, Miss Tramell's solicitor.
This is Catherine Tramell.
I shall be present during the evaluation.
Well, that's fine by me.
I'll be asking fairly personal questions. If she doesn't mind your presence...
My client understands and agrees I should be present for...
Maybe Dr. Glass is right and we should be alone for this.
I strongly advise you not to contemplate having...
So is this where we're going to do it?
Mr. Rose told you the purpose of this evaluation.
I'm applying for bail in a murder case.
The Crown wants to know if I'm a danger to myself or others.
You're the Crown's shrink, so you'll say I'm dangerous.
My shrink will say I'm not, and the judge will flip a coin.
Anything you tell me can be quoted verbatim in testimony...
...and can affect your case.
You can quote me all you want.
Thank you.
Well, I see that you're a writer.
What do you write about?
Murder, sex, violence.
Do you ever write about yourself?
Not into autobiography.
Really? Why not?
Maybe I like to just sit back and get other people to reveal themselves.
For instance, you look a little divorced.
What makes you think I'm divorced?
The ring line hasn't faded.
You're very observant.
Yeah, but am I wrong?
Would it bother you if you were wrong?
Would it bother you if I was right?
Tell me something you're afraid of.
Boredom.
Is that why you like to take risks?
I do like to take risks.
Like taking drugs and having sex in a speeding car?
Like talking to me without having your lawyer present?
Actually, that was your idea.
Like being on trial for murder? That's risky. You could end up in prison.
Not if I'm innocent.
Innocent people end up in prison all the time.
Not rich, innocent people who are represented by Henry Rose.
In that case, it isn't really exciting unless you're guilty.
Oh, I bet you like to take risks, don't you, Dr. Glass?
But I'm not the one who's on trial for murder.
Not yet.
Sorry, you're not allowed to smoke in here.
You know what I like about you?
You enjoy being in control.
Like me.
Sorry, sir. Can't let you through here.
Well, I would say extremely intelligent. Gifted, accomplished.
Yet inside, I believe...
...she vacillates between a feeling of godlike omnipotence...
...and a sense that she simply doesn't exist...
...which, of course, is intolerable.
Do you consider Miss Tramell to be mentally impaired?
Not by legal definition, no. Not at all.
If released, is she likely to commit a violent crime?
I believe her behavior is driven by what we call a risk addiction.
A compulsive need to prove to herself that she can take risks...
...and survive dangers others can't.
Especially the subsequent encounters with the police or the powers that be.
Why would a person do that?
The greater the risk, the greater the proof of her omnipotence.
Her existence, really.
When you say she has a risk addiction...
...is this condition likely to get worse?
All addiction is progressive.
The addict always needs to take greater risks.
If other people are hurt or killed...
...as a result of her behavior, that's not likely to stop her?
I think the only thing that'd stop her...
I suspect the only limit for her would be her own death.
Then she is a danger to herself.
Yes, I believe she is.
Nice work, Michael. Well done.
Dr. Glass, did Catherine Tramell kill Kevin Franks?
No, I can't make any comment, sorry.
Can you please tell us about the bail?
Dr. Michael Glass. What a big thing you are all of a sudden.
What are you doing here, Adam? Don't say you're writing about Tramell.
A sexy, omnipotent killer with a Random House contract.
Why would I write that?
You don't know she's a killer.
No, but I hope she is, though. I mean, I pray to God she is.
By the way, I hear you were brilliant in there.
You're so lucid sometimes, it's just disgusting.
You thought about daytime television?
Denise always says you were born for the small screen.
And how is my wife these days? Having fun?
Ex-wife, Michael. Ex-wife.
While we're chatting about killers...
...is there any chance of talking about George Cheslav?
Who told you about Cheslav?
Denise?
That's got to be any shrink's worst nightmare.
A patient in your care suddenly runs amok...
...beats his girlfriend to death with a brick.
That was seven years ago, why talk about it now?
Not quite seven, actually. Seven in July.
But you talked to him twice a week. He never indicated he'd harm the girl?
I don't talk about my patients.
Cheslav's dead. Can't you talk about them when they're dead?
No, not even when they're dead.
Michael, what are you doing here?
What did you tell Adam Towers about George Cheslav?
Nothing.
Can you give us a minute?
He already knew.
Really? Because he said you told him.
No, all I said was...
If he writes about that, if he puts it on his magazine cover...
He won't. You're just being paranoid.
You didn't do anything wrong.
Right. I didn't. I was treating a patient that killed his pregnant girlfriend.
End of story. You make sure he gets that.
Don't worry.
I'm up for the Douglas Chair at the university.
You know what that means to me. Do you think this is going to help?
I can't tell Adam what to write.
Why not?
Don't be stupid.
I think you're entitled to since you've been fucking him for over a year.
Do you think I didn't know when it started?
It's a pity you never asked yourself why it started.
How was the court case with the mystery writer?
I hear she looks fabulous.
Also very intelligent. Pathological liar. Narcissistic.
Seductive, manipulative.
Do you think she killed the footballer?
I have no idea.
Everything she does is so perfectly composed.
It's designed to confuse or confound you.
You never know what's truth and what isn't. She's brilliant, really.
The masked psychotic. Your favorite.
I'm already working it into a paper: "Risk Addiction and Omnipotence."
You're writing another already?
I'm writing two, but this is the more interesting.
I'll catch you up.
Hello?
Glass? It's Roy Washburn. Are you near a television set?
If you'll be quiet, I'll make a statement.
What happened?
The judge let her go.
Let her go? Why?
The guy who said he sold her the D TC...
...the judge found out he'd perjured himself in another case...
...and disqualified him as a witness. But I'll make you a bet.
What's that?
She'll do it again.
And soon.
Only this time I will fucking nail the bitch.
So we've been considering those who wish to control others...
...through their insecurity and their narcissism.
To study Nietzsche psychobiographically may seem naive.
Wasn't it Nietzsche's work itself, which...
...through deconstructive and post-structuralist readings...
...induced the death of psychobiography?
Paul Portman said he might go to Tavistock. I'm thinking I might go.
Just be patient. Stay where you are for about a year.
- But there's nothing holding me. - Trust me.
You know Dr. Gerst?
Michael Glass.
It's a pleasure.
I saw your review of my book.
You didn't understand what I was saying about the analytic field.
Towards the end you made one or two interesting remarks.
Maybe one of these days we can discuss it.
I'd be honored. Thank you very much.
"One or two interesting remarks"?
That was a compliment, Michelle. Dr. Gerst was very impressed.
And it appears that our Michael has just been knighted.
Cheers.
Congratulations.
- Can I ask you a question? - Sure.
Every day I see you writing and I am thinking, "What is he writing about?"
Is it a novel?
No, but there was a novelist in it.
Really? Who?
I can't tell you that. Otherwise I'd have to kill you.
Must be someone famous, then.
Excuse me. Dr. Glass?
I'm Peter Ristedes. Adam Towers' assistant.
Urbane magazine.
Mind if I join you?
Adam asked me to see if you'd give us a quote for the article he's writing.
I believe he mentioned it to you.
He didn't seem to think you'd want to talk to him.
I'll take that as a "no comment," then?
Dr. Glass?
Miss Tramell.
What are you doing here?
I wanted to talk to you.
About the evaluation.
Some of the things you said, I've been thinking about them a lot.
I'm sorry you had to hear all that.
Got a minute?
Come through.
What you said about me being addicted to risk...
...about having to do more and more dangerous things...
Well, after you said it...
...I realized I was...
...scared.
What exactly scared you?
For weeks before the accident I was having the same...
...fantasy over and over again.
I even wrote about it.
The woman's driving in the car, the man's making her come.
She drives off the road, the man's killed.
I feel like maybe I made it all happen.
That's why I'm here.
Are you saying you'd like to go into treatment?
Yeah.
Well, I think that's a very good idea.
I wouldn't be able to treat you, but I'd be happy to refer you to a colleague.
Why can't you treat me?
It's not advisable for a doctor who's done a forensic evaluation...
...to then become that person's therapist.
Why not?
Therapy requires a great deal of trust, which is difficult for most people.
It's best to start with a clean slate.
You mean you don't trust me.
What I said about you at the hearing must have seemed very negative.
I'm sure you've got feelings about that.
I'd be happy referring you to another doctor.
This is Dr. Milena Gardosh. She has a clinic here in London.
You want to know the truth?
The reason I agreed to the evaluation was because I thought it would be fun.
I never...
I never talked to anyone who...
My patient's here.
What do I owe you?
You don't owe me anything.
But if you'd like to call Dr. Gardosh, I'm sure she can help you.
I don't shop around.
Like you said, trust is very hard to come by.
I was hoping I might find it with you.
Listen, why don't we schedule another meeting.
And then we can talk about this when we're not so rushed.
You look different today. More relaxed.
The more nervous I am, the more relaxed people think I am.
I wanted to talk about something you brought up last Wednesday.
You said before the accident...
...you had fantasies of sexual excitement and driving off the road.
Do you often have fantasies like that?
I have fantasies all the time.
Fantasies involving violence, death?
People die in my novels.
I have to think of new and interesting ways to kill them.
What happens when you don't take risks?
I'm sorry, there's no smoking in here. It's a rule.
I don't like rules.
I have some of them, and that's one of them.
After the hearing...
...I was interviewed by a reporter from Urbane magazine.
Adam Towers. He said he knew you.
Slightly. Why?
He told me about the Cheslav case.
I was impressed by what you did.
You knew Cheslav was dangerous.
Still you protected him.
You honored his confidentiality...
...even at risk to yourself.
Do you think you made the right decision?
Or do you think you fucked up?
Given what I knew at the time, I made the right decision.
So you still believe in confidentiality.
Within legal limits. What exactly are you concerned with?
If I told you that I killed Kevin Franks...
...would you report me to the police?
No.
Anything that happened in the past, I wouldn't discuss outside this room.
But if you told me you were going to murder someone specifically...
...and I thought you were serious...
...then, yes, I'd go to the police.
I might be manipulating you to create risk for myself.
Do you want to talk about what happened to Kevin?
No, not really.
I was just checking your policy.
So have you decided?
About taking me on as a patient.
Shooter had an ex-wife, a drinking problem...
...a drug problem, a complicated sex problem he was barely aware of.
And a tremendous amount of free-floating rage.
In short, he was a cop and a very good one.
On March 3rd...
The woman knelt naked at the foot of the bed.
Her back to him, her head on a pillow.
Shooter raked his fingers through her blond hair and twisted it tight.
She groaned, her breath catching...
...as he suddenly yanked her hair like a rider pulling on a horse's mane.
The veins on his arms bulged as he roughly drew her onto him.
Do you remember that cop Washburn?
To him, the fact that I wasn't upset about Kevin Franks...
...was proof that I must've killed him.
Then, when I wouldn't break down...
...he hit on me.
Hit on you?
Yeah.
He said that if I fucked him things would go easier.
Homicide cops are usually smarter than that.
I knew one once, in San Francisco.
Nick Curran.
They called him Shooter.
We used to get in his car and ride around...
...listening to 911 calls on his scanner...
...then speed over.
Have you ever been to a murder scene right after it happened?
The body's still warm.
The watch is still ticking.
You can smell the blood.
We'd hang around for a while and then...
...go have sex in Nick's car.
Nick used to say:
"Death is always there. It's the only thing that's real."
Except maybe sex sometimes.
But only sometimes?
Well...
...I fucked this guy last night.
I fucked him for hours.
You know, we did everything to each other.
The full screaming Masters and Johnson's greatest hits.
But you know, a week from now, I probably won't even remember him.
But, if I was with him when he died...
Now...
...I probably would never forget that.
Would I?
Were you ever with anyone when they died?
No.
Christ.
We still have 20 minutes left.
I feel like a cigarette.
See you tomorrow.
She just walked out?
How Lacanian.
For her, time's a weapon.
Everything's a weapon. Everybody's an enemy.
Do you think she made it up about the policeman? Washburn?
I don't know. It's so hard to believe anything she says.
She's trying to seduce you.
They always try to seduce you.
Yes, but this one's different, isn't it?
I don't know. More fun maybe.
Be careful, Michael.
By the way, I got a call from that reporter, Adam Towers.
What did he want?
I made everything sound boring. I assured him he didn't have a story.
What if he calls others? What if he calls Gerst?
Gerst won't talk to a popular magazine reporter. Are you kidding?
Anyway, it was a successful paper.
Published, on this occasion, under sole authorship.
Well, thank God for that.
Speaking of God, is Gerst coming?
We can only hope and pray.
That he comes or he doesn't?
I'm going for a smoke. Don't talk about anything interesting till I get back.
How long have you lived here?
About six years, something like that. Seven.
Hi, Dominic.
Hi, Milena.
Thank you.
The beauty about antisocial behavior...
...is that it takes you away from other people, however briefly.
You're not an analyst.
I'm a writer.
Really? What do you write about?
Oh, the lurid, the sexual, the violent.
The basic instincts.
They're the most powerful, aren't they?
Milena.
Oh, Michael.
I'm sorry, I didn't ask your name.
Catherine Tramell. Milena Gardosh.
Oh, you're Dr. Gardosh.
I've heard so many wonderful things about you.
Catherine.
There you are.
Milena, Dr. Glass. I see you've met Catherine.
She's doing research for a novel about an eminent psychoanalyst.
I thought she might enjoy an occasion like this.
Well, may I take your coats?
Thank you.
Excuse me.
Would you put that in my pocket?
Certainly.
Catherine, come this way.
What's going on? What was Gerst thinking of, bringing her here?
I'm sure he's no idea who she is.
Where did he meet her?
She would have met him, believe me.
I can't stay here while I've got a patient here. I have to go.
I understand.
If you follow inter-subjectivity to its natural end...
...aren't you asking who's the patient and who's the doctor?
Those were my very words.
Very good.
Note that one for future reference.
Are you leaving because of me?
You must have known I'd be here.
Is that a problem?
I know some people who play tennis with their shrinks.
I'm sure you do.
Have sex with them. Sell them drugs. Work on their screenplays.
But I don't do that.
I was upset about our session today.
I felt I owed you an apology.
That's why I came.
We can go into that tomorrow.
I've got a better idea.
How about I ditch everybody and we go somewhere for a drink.
I told you, I don't socialize with my patients.
Another one of your rules?
Don't you get kind of tired of them?
You know, that's the nightmare of shrinkdom, doctor.
Too many answers, too many questions...
...nobody gets laid.
Okay, forget getting laid.
We'll just talk.
We'll talk tomorrow.
Michael. There you are.
Oh, my God. Did you see that woman that Gerst brought with him?
No.
Actually, I was just looking for you.
What, in there?
I was looking for your coat. I thought we could go for a drink.
If that's all right?
Yeah. Great.
What's wrong?
Turn around.
What?
Turn around.
Oh, God!
Michael, it's Denise! Please pick up the phone! Please!
Michael, please pick up the phone!
Denise?
Hey, hey, hey. What's happened?
Thanks, guv.
Come in, Michael.
Hey, you okay?
Hey, what's going on?
It's okay, I'm here now. Okay?
Who lives here?
It's Adam's place.
Jesus.
What happened?
I don't know. The door was unlocked and I just came in.
I just saw him lying there.
Have you called the police?
No. I was afraid.
Hello, Michael.
What are you doing here?
It's my wife. Well, my ex-wife.
She found him like that, then she called me.
I see.
And how did she happen to find him like that?
They'd been seeing each other and...
Oh, really?
Since when?
It's why I moved out.
So I assume you weren't the best of friends?
No.
Yet I saw you talking to him after the Tramell hearing.
It was just journalist stuff.
He was asking me questions about Tramell.
Do you think she killed him?
Who?
Denise? No.
No, not a chance.
I've known her for a long time. She could never do anything like that.
Listen, Roy, I've told my story twice over. Is it all right if I go home?
All right.
Oh, by the way...
...this yours?
No, I just found it on the floor.
How did it end up in the rubbish?
I stepped on it. It was leaking. I just threw it away.
Can I go?
Yes, by all means.
I assume you know Adam Towers was Killed.
Why would I know?
Because of Denise.
Denise?
Your wife. Your ex-wife.
I know who she is. How do you know her?
Adam introduced us a couple of times.
It was all very open. I knew about her, she knew about me.
Knew what about you?
That I was seeing him too.
The Masters and Johnson guy. That was him.
So... You were sleeping with Adam Towers?
Occasionally.
So, of course, Washburn thinks I killed him.
Why would he think that?
I kill because I'm addicted to risk. Or to prove that I exist.
I'm not sure which one it is.
I never said you killed anybody.
But you think I did.
You think I killed Kevin, and now you're wondering if I killed Adam.
Why don't you just ask me? Or is that too direct for you?
Did you kill him?
If I said I didn't, would you believe me?
Depends.
On what? The quality of my performance?
You know what? I'm glad Adam Towers is dead.
And you should be glad too.
If you're too uptight, I'll be glad for you.
Whoever killed him did you a favor.
Favor?
If he'd written that article on Cheslav, it would've ruined your career.
You haven't told me if you killed him. Can you put that out?
Put it out now or you can leave, okay?!
Is that better?
When you think about fucking me...
...and I know you do...
...how do you picture it, doctor?
Oh, I know you can't answer me, so just think it.
Do you want it straight up?
You on top?
Me on top?
Do you want it from behind...
...on your knees, my face in the pillow?
Do you want to beat me up...
...just a little?
Not too hard.
Oh, a little harder than that.
Do you want to come in my mouth?
What if I told you that I masturbate thinking about you?
That I make myself come...
...thinking about you making yourself come.
I guess we're out of time for today.
I'm terminating therapy.
Send me the bill.
Are you feeling all right?
Miss Tramell, it's Dr. Glass here.
Listen, I'm concerned about how our session ended today.
I'd like to talk through any misunderstandings...
...there might be between us.
As soon as you get this message, please give me a...
Just call me when you can.
Evening, Dr. Glass.
Could I have a word?
Sure. Upstairs.
Is that German?
Can I get you anything?
No.
So here's a surprise.
Adam Towers had a girlfriend besides Denise.
Guess who.
Catherine Tramell.
You don't look surprised.
She's a private patient of mine.
I see. Since when?
Not long.
So your ex and your private patient were both screwing Adam Towers.
That's quite a coincidence. Did they know each other?
I don't know. I don't think so. Did you...?
Tramell's prints were all over Towers' apartment, along with others.
But what's interesting is the last call he made was to her mobile phone...
...90 minutes before he died.
Her story is she was out walking all that time.
Two hours strolling around Clerkenwell and nobody saw her, so...
Come on, Michael. Talk to me.
I can't tell you anything. Even if I knew something, which I don't.
Franks was first. Towers second. There's bound to be a third.
This goes beyond confidentiality.
You've got a legal obligation to protect a potential victim.
You can't lock somebody up because you think they might do something.
Why don't you tell me what you know about this article...
...Towers was writing about you and our old friend George Cheslav.
Who told you he was writing an article?
His editor.
He'd been very busy. He had a lot of information on you.
What, and you think I killed him...
...to stop him writing some stupid article?
No. But just for the record, why don't you tell me how you spent last night.
Between, say, 7 p.m. and 2 in the morning.
You know, broad strokes.
I had patients until 8 p.m.
Then went to a party in Collingham Gardens.
I left there about 11 with a woman.
We came here and I was on my knees fucking her when Denise called.
On your knees, eh?
Sounds like your evening was better than mine.
Could I get her name? So there are no loose ends.
Look, Michael, Adam Towers was fucking your ex-wife...
...and about to do the same to your career. I've got to ask.
Michelle Broadwin.
She's a psycho-pharmacologist at Victoria Psychiatric Hospital.
Thank you.
I'll be in touch.
What does that mean?
I smell blood.
Yeah, not all of them, of course, but, you know, some of them.
They're all so sanctimonious...
...So judgmental.
All my friends, they drink too much. They snort too much coke.
Miss Tramell, it's Dr. Glass here again.
I'm a little concerned I haven't heard from you.
I was wondering whether you're okay.
Look, let me give you my home number. It's 0207...
Sorry, it really got to me and I don't know why it seems to be doing that.
Why it's getting worse. I mean, I was really excited.
You have no new messages.
The thing about Gerst is this:
The selection committee is just a formality.
This is the real interview.
Relax.
Be direct, candid.
But not too candid.
Very good time. They always get lost on the way. Come in.
Meet my new Mughal painting.
Not another one.
An Indian goddess at peace. It has a tranquility to it, don't you think?
I wonder what the males are doing, loitering so close to her?
It's obvious. They're worshiping her.
As they should.
Perhaps that's why she has eight arms to fend them off.
Why don't you girls go outside while Dr. Glass and I have our chat.
Come. Come.
Come with me. You'll enjoy it.
So, Dr. Glass, I have a question:
Do you think I'm insane?
Pardon?
Nuts? Bonkers? Off my trolley?
No, not at all.
But I might be if I recommended you for the Douglas Chair.
I'm sorry, I don't understand.
George Cheslav.
A major drug dealer, under your care, brutally murders his girlfriend.
An inquiry is held...
...where Detective Roy Washburn...
...testifies that you acted professionally at all times.
You're blameless.
That's right, I was.
However, after the trial...
...you experienced what we might term an emotional meltdown:
Depression...
...occupational underachievement...
...marital problems...
...and questionable professional conduct...
...much discussed at dinner parties around our great city.
I'm sorry?
Now you want my support for the Douglas Chair.
No more Cheslavs, Michael.
No.
No more Cheslavs.
Catherine!
Sorry. All right. Sorry, I'm just looking for someone.
God, Michael, how dramatic.
I know.
I thought she was in danger, but I know that's not the point.
She could be a murderer twice over...
...and you're acting like she's a princess you have to rescue.
Don't patronize me, please.
It's driving me crazy.
You're in love with her, aren't you?
Not love. It's...
I don't know.
You have to terminate this therapy, right away.
Well, it's already done. She terminated it herself.
Good.
If she calls again, give her my number.
I'm a woman.
She'll relate to me differently.
What are you doing here?
Where she goes, I go.
Since when?
Since she started coming to your office five days a week.
So, Adam Towers. Seems his research has gone missing.
All his notebooks, audiotapes, even his hard drive.
Everything on George Cheslav and Michael Glass.
- You think Catherine has it? - I know she does.
She ever tell you about them when she's chatting on the couch?
You know I can't discuss that.
Come on. I've been very good to you these past few years.
I'm practically a psychopath delivery service.
I can't break privilege.
Pity. I have something you might like to know about.
Someone says you'd been lying at the Cheslav inquest.
Who?
You want me to break privilege?
Since you're a friend, it was your ex-wife.
Denise?
You want to sort her out.
Who knows, she might tell you where Towers' notes went.
Someone's here. Do you want us to say?
I'll be all right. Don't worry.
We'll see you later.
How you doing?
Okay.
Do you want a drink?
No, I have to go.
I'm meeting someone at the Atlantic Bar.
Denise, did you tell Towers that I lied at the Cheslav inquiry?
Of course, there's always an agenda.
No. I said you knew he was going to kill his girlfriend.
I didn't. That's a lie.
Yes, you did.
You kept saying how you knew and should have gone to the police.
I didn't know. I sensed. And I told you that as my wife in confidence.
I didn't think you'd go and repeat it in bed to some moron reporter.
Do you want to ruin my life, is that it? You want to ruin my practice?
Your life? Your practice?
Catherine was right, everything's always about you.
What about me? Adam's dead and I'm a murder suspect.
Washburn keeps going on about me not cooperating, like I'm a liar.
I don't know where Adam's notes are.
I'm scared to go home. I'm scared to go out. I'm going out of my mind.
Be careful about Catherine.
Don't tell me what to do!
Just calm down.
Don't tell me to fucking calm down!
Hey, come on.
That's my wife, okay? This is a private conversation.
Get out of my way! Out of my way!
Denise. Oh, Denise!
Come on.
Come on, come on.
Come on, Denise. Look at me.
Call an ambulance!
Do it now!
Come on. Let's go.
Stay with me. Come on. Stay with me.
Come on. Stay with me.
You have a problem, Michael.
Witnesses say they saw you arguing. She was crying.
You grabbed her. She almost fell down.
Five minutes later, somebody slits her throat.
Also, there are people here who think you killed Towers.
Towers? Didn't you speak to Michelle?
Yes. But now I'm hearing about this cigarette lighter with your prints on it.
I just picked that up.
And your ex is in a coma just as she's to say something inconvenient for you.
I was trying to save her life.
Look, I spoke to Towers' assistant at Urbane magazine.
He expected Denise to say that you perjured yourself at Cheslav's inquiry.
She wasn't going to say that.
What was she going to say?
Sorry, guv.
You wait there.
So...
Your ex and Catherine Tramell were girl buddies. Did you know that?
What do you mean "girl buddies"?
According to Catherine, they met through Towers and hit it off.
Denise told Catherine that Towers had been pressuring her...
...into saying that you'd perjured yourself.
But Denise wasn't having it. She was going to say you were clean.
You didn't know Cheslav was going to kill his girlfriend, did you?
In fact, it came as a complete surprise, didn't it?
- Of course she's lying. - How do you know?
Everything that comes out of her is a lie. Even the truth's a lie with her.
It's her way of getting you to think what she wants you to think.
That's her art. The art of mind-fucking.
She might be a talented writer.
When it comes to mind-fucking, she's the all-time genius.
She really got to you, didn't she?
What do you mean? What did she tell you about me?
Well, what is there to tell?
Don't play games with me. She can pull it off, you can't.
Where are you going?
Some place else. Unless you have evidence to charge me.
Do you?
I didn't think so.
He let you go, finally.
I was worried.
You lied to Washburn for me. Why?
I knew you hadn't hurt Denise.
How could you know that?
Because I know you.
And I know the cops were keeping you just to play some kind of game.
What, like getting me to talk about you?
Yeah, but you wouldn't do that, because you're into confidentiality.
Why were you meeting with Denise?
Research for my novel.
Research.
About what?
About you.
And Cheslav, the masked psychotic.
The analyst in my book is obsessed with that sort of thing.
Washburn thinks that you slit Denise's throat.
Me? You're the one that hated her.
Maybe I'm acting out your unconscious impulses.
Stop it!
Do you think it's possible that you want me to be the killer?
You know, how some guys are into blonds...
...and some guys are into killers.
Isn't that what you're into?
Isn't that what turns you on?
Turns me on?
Isn't that why you're over here?
Okay.
I trust you.
You trust me.
Is there somewhere we can talk?
Over there.
Can I guess where you got it?
Let's find out what it is first.
It would be highly improper of me to accept any evidence in this fashion.
Fine.
It'll take me a few days to get it analyzed.
You'd have made a good cop, Michael.
You like the smell of blood.
Dr. Glass.
Hold on.
I was just thinking about you.
I might have more psychiatric evaluations for you.
That's nice, but I'm busy at the moment.
Oh, that's a pity. You were so good with Catherine.
She tells me you're very perceptive.
She's very perceptive herself.
I hope Detective Washburn isn't giving you cause for...
...concern?
What do you mean?
Well, given his past record.
What past record?
I want to talk to you.
Oh, so now you want to talk.
Look, this "Dirtiest Cop in London," it doesn't mention him by name.
But this "Detective X," is that Roy Washburn?
Is it Washburn?
Excuse me?
Yeah, it's him.
Are you sure?
Adam may have been a sloppy writer, but he had excellent sources.
What about perjury, intimidation, falsifying evidence. Is that true?
A policeman fabricating evidence.
But you have proof?
How about Kevin Franks and the Case of the Killer Orgasm?
When I did Catherine Tramell's assessment, I read that report.
Those syringes found in the car contained DTC.
Yeah, well, who found the syringes in the car?
But why would Washburn do that?
Adam thought he did it to set up Catherine Tramell.
Why didn't he write about it?
That's the whole point.
He was going to.
Then he got killed.
I owe you an apology. About Roy Washburn. L...
I don't like apologies.
I also don't like people stealing things from my apartment.
The insulin? In case you haven't had it analyzed yet.
Insulin?
My friend's diabetic.
Let yourself out, doctor.
Hello, Michael.
What do you want?
I got the lab analysis back.
D-Tubocurarine. Funny that.
You're sure it's not insulin?
Insulin?
No.
Can I see the report?
You've got some trust issues there. You might want to work on that.
This isn't an official Forensic Services report.
No. Because an unpreserved or contaminated chain of evidence...
...will be deemed inadmissible in a future trial, Inspector Clouseau.
So do you want to tell me where you found it?
She's not worth it.
People are dying and I will have her for it.
If you stand in my way, I'll have you as well.
I can fucking promise you that.
I've got something to show you. Get in the car.
Get in!
Medical examiner's on his way.
Hello, guv.
Were you working that night?
No, I don't know.
Did you see or hear anything suspicious yesterday?
Not yesterday. No.
- Nothing? - No.
How long have you worked here?
Four months.
Four months?
Where were you before that?
Ted.
Hi, guv.
- Remember I talked to Vice earlier and they said...
Fergie, give me a minute.
Let's go.
Who is he?
Richard Pepovic. Known to his friends as Dickie Pep.
You know him?
No.
Look at this.
Now, we'll have to wait for the lab results, of course...
...but what's the betting he's oozing Tubocurarine?
Now do you want to tell me who gave you the sample?
You don't know she did it.
No.
But then again, maybe I killed him.
Isn't that what she's gonna tell you?
He had something on me, so I killed him.
Then I jerked him off even though he was dead...
...to make it look like there was come everywhere...
...to make it look like it was her.
Look, Towers was right about me, I put them away whatever it takes.
So, fine, don't trust me.
You know Catherine better than me.
If you have five seconds when you're not dizzy...
...with the smell of her pussy, ask yourself: Do you trust her?
Do you?
She's George Cheslav, times three. We both know it.
The question is: How do we put her away?
If you tell the courts that she's made a direct threat against someone...
But she hasn't.
If you say she did, and that got her put on a psych ward...
...stopped her from killing again, wouldn't that be worth it?
Some kind of redemption for Cheslav at last?
Look, I'm prejudiced.
Don't take my word for it.
Talk to this guy.
Listen to him.
Lieutenant Walker. It's Michael.
Look, thanks for talking to me.
It's just that I did an evaluation of Miss Tramell...
Darkness had fallen and even before the buzzer sounded...
...Kelly knew it would be the doctor.
He'd come to accuse her of more crimes.
They'd fight about that and then have sex...
...and everything would be all right again.
Except it wouldn't be...
...If he didn't trust her.
Hi, handsome.
My new novel.
I'm anxious to hear what you think about it.
I've been speaking to Lieutenant Phil Walker...
...the San Francisco Police Department.
Paranoid Phil. Now there's a blast from the past.
He said you murdered a Johnny Boz and two detectives in San Francisco.
I was never even charged.
Grand jury said that Nick Curran's girlfriend did it.
I'm going to take a Jacuzzi. Care to join me?
All right, all right. I killed Johnny Boz.
Why?
I didn't like him.
For the money.
To see if I could get away with it.
To show that death really isn't very important.
Because I was bored.
And you know how I hate being bored.
What about Denise, huh?
Adam Towers?
Adam was insufferable.
And you are something special.
Adam was trying to ruin you just out of spite, and I couldn't bear it.
This is wonderful.
Denise.
Denise... Denise was good in bed.
Denise would have spoiled everything I'd accomplished...
...by killing Adam Towers.
God, you can't tell the truth about anything, can you?
You don't believe me when I say I did it.
You don't believe me when I say I didn't do it.
What is the point of talking to you, anyway?
Oh, come on.
Why don't you take your clothes off and get in, huh?
This is worse than Cheslav, isn't it?
This time you knew right from the start what I was.
And you let it happen again, didn't you?
It's almost like you killed them yourself.
Who do you think I'm going to kill next?
Come on.
You can figure it out.
Kelly met the analyst during her little stay at Holloway Prison.
His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue.
Did Kelly trust the doctor?
Did she mean it when she told him she wanted help?
Even she wasn't sure.
If things went well, then she meant it.
If not, she didn't.
That way, she'd be protected.
She remembered the first time she met Irena...
...at the party in Bloomsbury.
She felt a deep affinity for the older woman.
As if the two of them leaning against the wall, silently smoking...
The next time they saw each other...
...only brought the two women even closer.
Even as Dr. Green watched them through the window...
...looking for any sign of conspiracy.
Kelly found herself opening up, trusting the older woman...
...revealing things about herself...
Yes, Kelly thought. She liked Irena.
She was trustworthy, intelligent, beautiful, dignified.
It was a pity Kelly was going to have to kill her.
She dressed carefully.
She liked to be well-dressed when she killed.
Killing Irena and telling Dr. Green she was planning to do it...
...that was the riskiest thing she could do.
Come on, Milena.
Come on, Milena, answer the phone
It's Michael Glass here. Can you call me as soon as you get this message?
As much as Kelly hated her shrink...
...She also loved him.
She took a last glance at herself in the mirror.
Irena deserved a good death. And Kelly would give it to her.
Hello, this is Roy Washburn, please leave a message.
Roy. It's Michael Glass. Come as soon as you can.
23 Highgate Street. Hampstead.
I think Catherine is going to kill Milena Gardosh.
It was almost midnight by the time Dr. Green got to Hampstead.
What is it?
Thank God. Listen, we don't have much time.
You're in danger. She's going to try and kill you.
What? Who's trying to kill me?
Catherine.
I thought I could help her but I was wrong.
I'll try and get her sectioned. It's the only thing that'll stop her.
I've already spoken to Catherine.
She's very upset. You terrified her.
I terrified her? She's a murderer. She's already admitted it.
For christ sake, you had sex with your patient.
You assaulted her. She nearly drowned.
You've broken the law, not to mention the ethical canon of our profession.
It wasn't like that.
Michael, listen to me, please.
You're not well.
You're the one who needs help.
I've spoken to Gerst...
...and he thinks that if you volunteer for a 28-day observation...
...you might be able to avoid criminal charges.
However, they will have to revoke your license.
I'm sorry.
She's right.
It's for your own good, Michael.
She asked me to take over her treatment.
She's my patient now.
Please, don't.
You've no idea what you're getting into.
Tell her the truth.
I'll make you tell her the truth.
God.
Come on.
She's right, you know.
You really do need help.
Bitch.
So, what's this about?
Protection.
Oh, yeah? From who?
Washburn.
Go ahead.
Kelly Lash kills Irena, Dr. Green's colleague.
No, I read your book.
So you just rushed right over here to save her?
It's just a story, doctor. Or maybe I really am omnipotent.
Congratulations, the control freak finally lets go.
This is what you wanted from the start, wasn't it? To ruin me, to fuck me up!
Feels good, doesn't it?
No more "I should've stopped Cheslav from killing his girlfriend."
No more whining over nothing.
- It wasn't over nothing. - Yes, it was.
Cheslav did not kill his girlfriend.
Washburn did.
Washburn?
What do you think Adam Towers was writing about when he was killed?
You're lying. You're a lying fucking bitch.
Sure I am, if it makes it easier for you.
Why? Why would he kill the girlfriend?
To nail Cheslav.
That's right.
Your seven years of hell.
Your meltdown.
Your divorce.
Just so your good friend Roy could nail a drug dealer.
Don't take it so hard.
Even Oedipus didn't see his mother coming.
It's Roy Washburn.
Give me the gun. Give me the gun!
Fuck off!
Give me the gun! He knows I've got Towers' notes. He wants me dead.
Open the door!
He's going to kill me and say you did it.
No. No, this is all fucked up.
You don't know what you're doing. Give me the gun. He's going to kill me.
You...!
Go ahead, then, baby.
Whatever she told you, she's lying.
Kill her!
It's the only chance you've got.
Let go of the gun!
Clear the weapon!
- Stay still! - Get off me!
Stop struggling! Stop struggling!
Stay down! I'm telling you to stay down. Okay?! Stay down!
Get the cuffs on him.
- Call an ambulance! - Keep still!
Call an ambulance!
Stay down!
Calm down! Calm down!
Nighttime! Nighttime!
You'll be home soon.
Hello, Michael.
I brought you a present.
I know you read an earlier draft. But you gave me a better ending.
So, thank you.
Would you like me to tell you the plot?
It's about an American.
A blond.
A novelist.
People around her just keep dying.
But the question is:
Who's killing them?
Is the beautiful blond novelist a serial killer?
Or is it the crooked cop?
Her analyst isn't sure.
But he goes crazy trying to find out.
But that's just half the story.
There's a twist.
You see, the novelist never really killed anybody.
And neither did the cop.
The real killer all along...
...was the shrink.
Yeah, from the moment he saw her...
...he knew she was the smoke screen he was looking for.
His best opportunity to get even.
First...
...he'd deal with that scumbag journalist.
You see, you don't just go around stealing another man's wife.
It's humiliating.
Not that she was a complete innocent.
That weekend slut.
Jesus, how could she let that sleazebag touch her?
It's hurtful.
And there's some hurts you don't just get over.
Jealousy.
Jealousy can make us do crazy things.
But getting away with it...
...that was genius.
"Unfit to stand trial."”
No prison for him, just a happy ending...
...in a quiet, sunlit, peaceful psychiatric institute.
Of course, that could all be a fiction.
He might really be insane.
Come back soon, baby.
I miss you.