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.
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?
Someplace 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. I--
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, lnspector 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...
...Iooking 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 chrissake, 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 lrena, 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 "l should've stopped Cheslav from killing his girlfriend."
No more whining over nothing.
-lt 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.