The Stalker's Apprentice (1998) - full transcript

Life has a purpose.

There's a reason
behind it, a plan.

But sometimes you meet somebody
who changes everything.

The moment I saw her, I
knew she had to be mine.

Thanks

Good morning.

Good morning.

One moment, please.

Anything jolly today, Marcus?

Carl.

The editors don't
bother with the novels.



There's more sex and
violence in your reports.

Who made this mess?

Probably the cleaner, dear.

What's up with you?

Time of the month?

The author

makes extensive use of
asterisks and footnotes,

a new departure in
hard-boiled detective fiction.

She calls her novel,
"Jennifer, A Mystery,"

but the only
mystery I could find

was the body hair on page 32.

From the moment

I could first think reasonably,
I knew I would kill somebody.

I did not, of course, know
which person I would kill



or how many, but I recognized
the compulsion to murder.

Dear Mr. Kranze,

thank you for sending us your
novel, "Death in Santiago."

I shall read it personally.

Yours faithfully,
Marcus Walwyn, editor.

Marcus?

Harry and I are going
out now, darling.

I've left you a little risotto.

I don't

know if people are born evil
or born good, for that matter.

If we are evil by nature,
then it's God's will...

his will, if he
made us that way.

What
happened to you?

What do you
mean, what happened to me?

- I'm not late.
- You are.

I'm not!

You are.

I'm not!

You are.

Are we going to
go for a coffee?

I can't.
I've got to go.

Why?

I've got to go to work.

I'll see you later, Karen!

Karen?

Karen.

She didn't need any friends.

She had me.

My sleeves
around my heart.

Because you're gorgeous,
I'd do anything for you.

Because you're gorgeous, I
know you'll get me through.

Somebody seems to think
you're a very special boy.

Ah-ah.

Marcus Walwyn, editor?

It's just a bit premature.

Mm, I know the problem.

You should be an editor by now.

Rumor has it, your
CV's big enough.

Yeah, 12 inches, but I
don't use it as a rule.

You're a wasted
talent, you are.

Dear Mr. Walwyn,

may I say that I am particularly
pleased that my book

has fallen into your hands?

Marcus,
what are you wearing?

You look like a ruffian.

Ruff!

Hmm.

Oh, hello, Harry.

Uh, hello, Marcus.

Mother in?

Yes.

Ah.

She's gagging for it.

Thanks.

See you later.

So this is where she lives...

not a secretary, not a
model, just a beautiful,

working-class babe.

Ma.

You've been out on the razzle?

No, Marcus.

Bridge night.

Did you win?

No.

Billy Dunlop
overbid like an idiot.

Dump him.

I couldn't do that.

Why not?

It's just not done, darling.

Well, I'm sure Harry
would partner you.

Oh, what's this?

Oh, nothing.

Well, let me see.

No, I don't want to
get writer's block, do I?

Oh, Marcus.

You're writing a novel.

How exciting.

What's it about?

Oh.

Well, I went interrupt.

I just wanted to
say night-night.

Mwa.

Night.

Did you get the
message from Heather?

Yes, ma.

Sweet dreams.

Come on then.

Come on, what?

God, I can't take all that.

Well, take it or leave it.

It's the only one I've got.

I'll take it.

Sunday was uneventful, unless
you call having sex with Heather

Brazier-Young an event.

Ready to order?

I'll just have a
coffee please, Karen.

Excuse me.

Do I know you?

Why, do I look familiar?

You called me Karen.

Did I?

I'm sorry.

I must have overheard your name.

Oh.

My name's Peter.

Right, now we're even.

Hello, Peter.

Just a coffee then?

Thanks.

Here you go, Peter.

Great, thanks.

Would you
like anything else?

Yes, please.

Can I get a cheese and
ham toasted sandwich?

Yeah, sure.

Karen!

Hang on.

Are they not here yet?

We're going to be
late, you know?

There's loads of time, Sharon.

Sit down.

And who's he?

What?

Cheese and ham toasted, please.

Can you get us coffee
while I'm waiting?

And a coffee.

Going anywhere special?

Mind your own business.

Going to the bank, actually,
to see about a mortgage.

Five minutes.

She'll never be five minutes.

Karen won't let you down.

Know Karen well, do you?

Just guessing.

Well, stop guessing
about her, all right?

Five minutes.

All right, bruv.

Thanks, Karen.

Hi, Sharon.

Hiya.

That's Darren, Karen's fiance.

Listen, Sharon.

I'm not coming between
Karen and Darren, all right?

Actually, I've got a girlfriend.

We're getting married.

Look, don't get me wrong, uh...

Peter.

Do you understand, Peter?

She's your best friend.

You look after her.

That's right.

I'm a very calm person.

I didn't expect
Karen to be intacta,

but I had her down as
a virgin in my dreams.

Oi, traffic wardens.

Come on, Sharon.

Get your shoes on.

Hiya.

You all right, babes?

Come, darling.

See ya.

No one else was in the dream

except Karen and me...

no Sharon, and
definitely no Darren.

In common

with any other
serious undertaking,

murder improves with practice.

Before performing on
the primary victim,

there is much to be
said for a trial run.

Marcus?

You remember the Whites?

What?

The
Whites, darling.

You know, they were
over last year.

Whites?

No.

Yes.

They invited me to
Texas, to the ranch.

When are you off?

I can't leave you
here all by yourself.

Darling, this is it!

- And have a good time.
- Oh, will you miss me?

OK, now on you go.
Go on.

Go on.
Go on.

I'll see you later.
- Oh, darling, did you...

Get going.

Did
you take the cases?

Yes, yes, yes.
We've got the cases.

- Are you sure?
- OK, bye, mother.

Say hello to the
Whites for me, OK?

OK, bye.

Undue haste and failure to plan

meticulously are the
downfall of every killer.

One should always approach
murder with the concept

that one will most
definitely be apprehended

if even the smallest
precaution is overlooked.

The temperature?

Yes, I don't want
to spread it about.

So when's the wedding?

Well, what did Karen tell you?

No, I just guessed things
went well at the bank.

You bought a duvet.

Yeah.

Won't be long now...

me and Paul, Karen and Darren.

You next, aye, Peter?

Me first, I hope.

This is your house?

I just need to pick
up some overalls.

Then I'll drop you off.

Do you want to come in
and say hello to mom?

Yeah, all right.

It's me!

Ma!

Ma!

I won't be a minute.

Take a look at the new kitchen.

Make a coffee, if you like.

A well-planned murder

almost commits itself.

Calm and assurance are all.

Peter.

Ah, these units...
now this is class.

I don't care what you say.

Paul says fit kitchens
are overrated,

but, no, this is
what I want one day.

Oh, I just dream of having
a kitchen like this.

It can add greatly

to the excitement if some
small mark is left designed

to baffle the investigators
without identifying

the perpetrator.

A corpse without a signature...

An
asterisk without a footnote.

I came to
see Miss Brazier-Young!

She's at races.

They all are.

How
did the horse do?

Don't ask.

It came fifth.

That's not bad.

There were
only four in the race.

Well, you can always eat it.

I'll eat you if you don't
let me know when you're coming.

I wanted to surprise you.

Marcus!

All right, all right.

It's a date.
Bye, Heather.

Dear Mr. Kranze,

I'm delighted to tell
you that your book

is a very fine work, indeed.

I have one or two
points to talk over.

Perhaps we should meet.

Hello, Karen.

I'll have a coffee and a
toasted cheese and ham sandwich,

please.

I'm sorry?

What's wrong?

You don't know, do you?

About Sharon?

Sharon?

Yes, I remember Sharon.

What about her?

She's been murdered.

Oh, no.

You really shouldn't be working.

It's better if I do.

Less time to think.

The least I can do is give
you a lift home after work.

Darren's coming to pick me up.

Sit down.

I'll get your coffee.

I could open up

a new life for her,
and she was waiting

for the blonde bimbo biker.

I'd done the trial run.

Now for the main target.

"My husband is away in
South America just now,

but I'm sure he'd be delighted
to contact you on his return."

"I know who killed
your brother's bird.

If you want to know,
do what it says below.

Bring me 100 quid.

Come on your own.

If you don't, forget it."

Not bad, M. Now, try this one.

Marvelous.

Oh, I'm sorry, Richard.

I've got to drive home.

Not tonight, surely.

You must stay, Marcus.

You can have the guest bedroom.

Thank you.

Closest I've ever
tasted to Petrus,

and it came from
a petit chateau.

And we only went there
to see the horses.

Daddy, Marcus thinks
we should eat the horses.

I'm sure he doesn't
mean it, dear.

My precious stallion.

Whoa!

Bad luck, mate.

Now I would have her,

the girl of my dreams.

Oi, watch it!

Paul, it's Inspector
Burt and Sergeant Wilson.

You remember us?

Someone had a grudge
against you, Paul.

Needn't be a blood feud.

You can get killed
over a parking space.

Don't tell me.

I live here.

We kept to ourselves.

We looked after each other.

Anyone jealous of that?

Look, I would know about it!

We had nothing to worry us.

The only thing Sharon
had on her mind that day

was buying a duvet.

You didn't mention
that before, Paul.

You're never going to
catch that bastard, are ya?

You haven't got a clue, mate.

What do you think?

Nah,
he doesn't know.

Right.

Karen Scott again.

You do the talking.
I want to watch her.

Oh...

So Darren didn't like
you waiting tables.

Did he ever quarrel with
any of the customers?

He didn't care
about the customers.

He never even spoke to them.

But he came to see you.

Karen, we have no
suspects locally.

We have to look
again at the cafe.

If Darren came, he
just hurried me out!

Like the last time
with Paul and Sharon.

She was just as bad.

I think Sharon spoke to Peter.

Peter.

A regular customer?

No.

Well, recently.

But you know his name.

I know lots of names!

We just got chatting.

I thought I knew
him from somewhere.

Where?

I don't know!

Peter's not a weirdo!

He's nice!

He wouldn't have stood
a chance against Darren.

I'll tell you that.

We've got
three things to go on.

One, the victims
knew each other.

Two, their bodies were
found close to each other.

Different MO, yes.

Sharon was killed
somewhere else and dumped.

Darren was killed on the spot.

But it has to be someone
who knew that countryside

and this place here.

What's your third?

The star he carved
on their faces.

I think that sounds like
nice, well-behaved Peter.

No, not like him.

That was Sheedy
from the hairdressers

where Shannon worked.

They remember she talked
about buying a duvet.

- Do they remember where?
- No.

Sheedy and Allen
have gone looking.

Forensic report... nothing
on the bike except the red

paint from the car that hit it.

Clark.

Can you go out to
the Brazier-Youngs?

Ask if they've seen a
red car near their land.

Uh, while you're at it, see if
they know anyone called Peter.

Cheers.

Description?

Early 20s, nothing
too specific.

Just get them talking.

But don't mention
claret or horses.

You'll be there all day.

Soft.

A soft face.

What do you think?

Is it a good likeness?

I'm pretty sure.

She was good, remembered a lot.

Not too much?

Oh, no.

She's not unreliable.

I think she fancied him.

Good-looking boy.

They found a red Sierra.

Could be the car.

Let's go see.

Black paint... same color
as Darren Cornell's bike.

Oh, thanks.

Reported stolen?

Yeah, three days
before Darren was killed.

So it was kept somewhere.

What do you think?

The inside is
clean as a whistle.

Even the driver's
seat cover's gone.

The tire marks match, maybe.

Can we open the boot?

Don't let me stop you.

Sir?

I thought you'd want
to know straightaway.

Heather Brazier-Young has
a boyfriend, early 20s.

He stayed there the weekend
that Cornell was killed.

Is he called Peter?

Uh, no.

M-Marcus, Marcus Walwyn.

Does he drive a car?

Yeah, an Audi silver.

Wrong name, wrong car.

Well done, Clark.

We're just coming up to
the scene of the crime, sir.

Mm.

In about half a
mile, we'll be where

Darren Cornell was killed.

Ray, stop the car.

What?

Turn around!

The car was kept here.

Well, a car was.

The
Brazier-Young place?

Yes, sir.

Get forensics.

I want to know if
it was the Sierra.

And wait for me here!

I knew I shouldn't have
told anyone about Marcus.

Now I suppose you'll
hound the poor sod.

The derelict buildings
over there, are they yours?

Over by the road?

Oh, the old manor?

Wish they'd let us knock
the bloody thing down.

Do you ever go to the
old manor with Mr. Walwyn?

No.

We use the stable for that.

You're telling me you were
with Mr. Walwyn for the whole

of Sunday morning?

Yes.

He was in the guest bedroom.

So was I.

Uh, may I?

Oh, of course.

Where were you on
the 5th of this month?

I don't know.

Oh, 5th.

Newmarket.

Our horse came in fifth.

Mr. Walwyn was with you?

No.

So you can't vouch for
his whereabouts on that day?

Yes, I can.

He came here to see me.

He spoke to the
gardener, then left.

Now if you'll excuse me.

Yes, thank you,
Miss Brazier-Young.

Thanks, John.

Ray.

Yeah.

Is it the same car?

It's possible.

Cheerful bugger.

Oi!

God, I'm starving.

Let's get back.

I'll take you to
some home cooking.

Yeah, yeah.

You're on.

Uh, we can rule out
the owner of the Sierra.

Clark says he was with his
mates all morning, still

pissed from the night before.

Oh, and, um, She... ah, ah.

Sheedy found a shop where
Sharon Hayes bought a duvet.

Wine.

Nobody was with her.

She took it away herself.

So what happened to it?

You think she
was murdered for a duvet?

Well, someone could
have offered her a lift.

from the cafe.

Oh, Walwyn?

Walwyn was in the
area both times,

when Sharon Hayes was dumped
and when Darren was killed.

Karen Scott said Peter was
well-spoken, better class.

What if Peter and
Walwyn are the same man?

What's his motive?

Mm.

You could have shown the e-fit
to the Brazier-Young girl.

I know.

But she was too
snotty, so I didn't.

Uh, not for me, sir.

Get a cab home, aye?

I'll pick you up in the morning.

Well, just the one then.

I was told when I started the
job I'd get used to the bodies.

Never have.

What is it, sir,
about this case?

Ever felt like
you've seen a ghost?

The first murderer
I met was someone

called Zanke, Hubert Zanke.

We knew it was him,
but he killed three

more people while we proved it.

Used to sign his corpses
with a little criss-cross.

When I saw the mark on Sharon
Hayes and then Cornell,

it felt like Zanke was
sending me a message,

as if he was saying PS.

And where's Zanke now?

Banged up in Broadmoor.

First thing I checked.

It's a different mark, and we've
got our suspect right here.

Karen
Scott says it's him.

It proves Peter
is Marcus Walwyn.

That's all.

We can't tie him to the car.

We can't connect him to the
victims at the relevant times.

Walwyn had two days off work
when Sharon Hayes was murdered.

He was in the area.

He announced himself
to the Brazier-Youngs.

It's hardly furtive behavior.

We've got no fingerprints,
no forensic at all.

Then let's get some...

search the house,
put the boot in.

You think he's left evidence
lying around after the way

he's covered his tracks?

Walwyn's careful.

He's clever.

If we go in too soon,
we'll get nothing.

Just because you made
a mistake with Zanke?

Exactly.

I'm not making it again.

Someone downstairs
to see you, sir.

Says his name is Marcus Walwyn.

Mr. Walwyn.

How can we help you?

I want to know why
I'm being followed.

If you plant detectives
outside of publishers,

you should at least pick people
who look like they can read.

Do you mind if we
ask you some questions?

Anything to oblige.

Do you frequent
Ed's Cafe, Mr. Walwyn?

Occasionally.

You
use the name Peter.

Yes.

Is that your name?

No.

Why would you use a
false name to order coffee?

I just didn't want
to get involved.

We're investigating
two murders, Mr. Walwyn.

Two murders?

Sharon Hayes and
Darren Cornell,

both friends of Karen
Scott, whom you know.

I knew about Sharon,
but not Darren.

Karen must be shattered.

So you know them well.

Hardly.

Karen chatted to me, that's all.

I knew Darren was her boyfriend
because Sharon warned me off.

Sharon warned you off?

When was that?

I think it was shortly
before she was killed.

Cuffs on now, is it?

You're aware we questioned
Miss Brazier-Young?

She mentioned it.

Being your girlfriend?

Not really.

She gobbles me dry now and then.

The walk you took on
the Sunday morning...

Did I?

Did Heather say I took a walk?

No.

She said you were
with her all the time.

I'd like you to write something
down for me, Mr. Walwyn.

You're not obliged to do it.

No, of course not.

What do you want me to write?

"I know who killed
your brother's bird."

"I know who killed
your brother's bird."

Killed?

Are you sure you
don't want done in?

Just shut up and do it.

You're only as
good as your staff.

Aren't you, inspector?

Ever driven a red
Sierra, Mr. Walwyn?

What am I suspected
of now, membership

of the working class?

God.

Stone me, guv.

It's a fit-up.

Good of you to
chuckle, Mr. Walwyn.

Not everyone would
in your position.

And what is my
position, inspector?

Do you know a Mr. Zanke?

Mr. Hubert Zanke?

I don't recognize
the name, no.

Should I?

No reason.

Thanks, again.

You've been very helpful.

Well, if you want me,
you know where to find me.

Don't you?

Bastard!

Still wondering if he's guilty?

I've always thought
he was guilty, Ray.

Now I'm convinced of it.

Mr. Walwyn?

Yes.
Who is this?

It's Mrs. Kranze, sir.

My husband is back
in the country.

He wants to meet you.

That's mutual.

He suggests

our house at 9:30 AM on Friday.

Right.

Just let me check.

Loring says don't wait
for a written report.

Why not?

The handwriting doesn't match.

Oh, he asked me to tell you.

They're almost too different.

Zanke lured his second victim
to the canal with a note.

Loring was on the case.

The handwriting was the
opposite of Zanke's own...

almost too different.

Sir?

I don't know how, but Walwyn
is copying Zanke to the letter.

Now
I'd completed the dirty work,

it was time for romance.

After all, I'd be a
pretty heartless character

not to offer Karen my sympathy.

Karen?

Hi, Karen.

Hello, Peter.

How are you?

Coping.

Good.

I'll just have a coffee, please.

Peter, I've got
to talk to you.

I'll be finished
in half an hour.

Can you wait?

Yes, of course.

Peter,
I feel awful.

It must be dreadful.

No.

I mean I might've
got you into trouble.

How could you do that, Karen?

I told the police about you.

I helped them make up
a picture of your face.

I feel really guilty.

Karen, don't
worry about me, OK?

I've been to the police.

I've done all I can to help.

I've got my own
confession to make.

My name isn't Peter.

It's Marcus.

I like Marcus much better.

Taxi!

No, Marcus, really.

In you get.

This do for New Cross.

Thank you.

Marcus, you can't!

Listen, I'll see you soon, OK?

Maybe this weekend?

Saturday.

Great.

- I
- gave the driver her address.

Bloody stupid thing to do.

I'll have to be more careful in
the future, a lot more careful.

Sorry, Ray.

I was just, um...
here, help yourself.

I, um...

I pulled Zanke's file.

Hmm?

He got out
yesterday on license.

Where is he?

He's gone
home to his wife.

Oh, goodness me.

You are an early bird.

I've
got an author to see.

I'm going to his home.

Oh, Well, you be careful.

It's
the suburbs, Ma...

Oh.

...not Africa.

Mm-mm.

Of course, I could never

commission the book,
but I couldn't move

on without meeting the author...

alone.

Ah, the publishing gentleman.

My husband is expecting you.

All the way to the
top of the stairs.

Hello, Mr. Walwyn.

Not the accent you
were expecting, aye?

Perhaps you thought I was
some sort of Nazi, Mr. Walwyn.

Please, sit down.

So the book?

The book.

You like it?

Very much.

I thought you would.

I do have some
questions as to motive.

You mean why my
character commits murder?

No, I understand that.

I mean why he records
the murders he commits.

Recognition, Mr. Walwyn.

He must make his mark.

A corpse without a signature...

Is like an asterisk
without a footnote.

So it struck a chord?

My book made you different,
made you act out your desires.

I'm... I'm sorry.

I, uh...

I seem to have lost the thread.

Desires?

Perhaps I should pass this on
to one of our other editors.

Oh, no.

The book is for you.

You received it.

You accepted it.

Well, no, not yet.

It's very good for
a first attempt,

but it needs work before we
consider it for publication.

You're telling me
you felt nothing?

I felt it had the makings
of an excellent thriller.

A thriller?

Will you do one thing
for me, Mr. Walwyn?

If I can.

Read the book once more.

Well...

Read it as fact, Mr. Walwyn.

I'll certainly try and read
it in that light, Mr Kranze.

Thank you.

Give me time, and
I'll get back to you.

Is it all true?

Read it carefully.

You won't find anything in it
about asterisks and footnotes.

That line came from you.

I'll tell you one thing.

I was glad to get out of there.

The cops couldn't
scare me like Kranze.

He knew me without even asking.

What do you want?

Tell me about Marcus Walwyn.

He's the man who
just left your house,

or perhaps you
know him as Peter.

Oh, so he has
been a naughty boy?

What was Walwyn doing here?

Mr. Walwyn is editing my book.

Well, no one else
would write my stories,

so I've written it myself.

With details of the
murders you committed?

In full.

I want a copy of that book.

I can get a warrant.

Helmut Kranze?

It's what we authors call
a pseudonym, inspector.

I've written it as...

as a thriller.

Only this time, my
hero gets away with it.

Cleverer
than you, aye?

No, cleverer than the police.

You mailed this to
Walwyn from Broadmoor?

Oh, no.

My wife helped me to
correspond from this address.

I didn't wish to
cause any alarm.

Listen, Zanke.

If you see Walwyn again, if
you tell him we were here,

I'll have you for conspiracy,
aiding, and abetting.

I'll make sure you
never get back out.

Inspector, I have no intention
of helping Mr. Walwyn, not

because of your threats,
but because it would ruin

the whole point of the book.

Read it as fact, Mr. Walwyn.

It may seem strange, but
murder can be pleasant...

so pleasant, it can
become habitual.

What made me a cut above
your average murderer

was knowing when to stop.

Without mistakes, the
police are powerless.

I feel out of place.

You're not.

You look lovely.

Thanks.

Going out with Darren, it
was usually McDonald's.

Here's to us.

Marcus, I don't
want you to think...

Think what?

It's just...

Hey, come on.

Don't look so sad.

We're supposed to be
enjoying ourselves.

Oh, I am.

It's just...

Look, for you.

For me?

Oh, Marcus.

It's brilliant.

I've got one of these,
but it's broken.

I know.

How did you know?

I just knew that
you'd like it.

So don't I get anything?

You're nice to me.

You're easy to be nice to.

I only wish we'd...

I only wish we'd met under
different circumstances.

Marcus, you shouldn't
buy me things like this.

I haven't got over Darren yet.

We can only be friends.

Who says friends can't give
presents, for Christ's sake.

You know what I mean.

Look, just take it, will you?

You
want to kill her, don't you?

I told you it becomes a habit.

Give me time, aye?

Sure.

Take all the time you want.

You're sweet.

Sweet as a nut.

Taxi!

The lady'll tell you where.

Cheers.

Can I call him Marcus?

Call him anything you like.

Call him Darren if you want.

New Cross, please.

New
bracelet, Karen?

I had one just like it, but
it got broken on the train

to work.

Now how
would Marcus know that?

Marcus, I'm sorry.

I was awful.

You and me
used to be together,

everyday together, always.

Am I forgiven?

Nothing to forgive.

Karen!

Tell him to piss off.

Ask me out again.

Saturday night then?

Yeah.

Saturday night.

I've got something to tell you.

You're losing
your grip, Marcus.

You used to knock out a
pile of reports a day.

I'm developing a mature style.

You're stressed.

It slows you down.

You should get out more.

What are you doing
on Saturday night?

Sorry, sweetheart.

I've got a date with a woman.

Oh, there's no
need to be like that.

You don't know what
you're missing.

Hello, Harry.

Marcus.

Could I, uh, ask you a favor?

I've got a sort of a
date this Saturday.

Oh, yes?

Couldn't whiz Ma away
for the weekend, could you?

You mean you'd like
the house to yourself?

I'll do the same for you.

Anytime you want me out
of the way, just ask.

Yes, quite.

Ready to go?

I'm not going
with you, Marcus.

Pardon?

I wanted to tell you, Paul
and I are going to get married.

You're what?

It's awful what happened
to Sharon and Darren.

The one good thing to come
out of it is it brought me

and Paul together.

That's crap.

You two-faced slut!

Paul!

I'll kill you for this!

- I
- love you, Karen.

I love you.

Get off.

Get an ambulance.

Get after him.

Don't let him out of your sight!

Fucking.

Marcus?

K... Kranze?

Marcus, you've got to stop.

S... Stop what?

Don't fall apart, Marcus.

The police have been to see me.

They've got the book.

Marcus, if you stop
now, they can't touch you.

It's no crime to read a book.

No crime?

They've got no case.

They'll never catch you.

Stay in.

Go to bed.

Got to bed?

Goodnight, Marcus.

I knew it wouldn't work.

I never wanted
anything to do with it.

Leave me alone!

I've got to see you home.

Well, I'm home, right?

Now get off me.

Get off!

Walwyn!

Walwyn!

Walwyn!

Right.

Ah, get off me!

Get off!

Ah, get off!

Ah!

Get off!

Do you
want a solicitor?

I haven't done anything.

You
murdered Sharon

Hayes and Darren Cornell!

No, I didn't.

Karen Scott was
murdered last night.

You killed her, Marcus.

No.

No , I... I...

I didn't kill Karen.

I was in bed all night.

Oh, just like you
were sick in bed

when you murdered
Sharon Hayes, like

you were in bed with Heather
when you killed Darren Cornell.

That's fiction!

It's fact, Mr. Walwyn.

So is this.

We know it's yours.

The label is in your
own handwriting.

I didn't kill Karen!

No, I...I loved her!

You threatened to
do it, and you did.

You marked her just like the
rest, with a little star!

You mean an asterisk!

You got him, sir.

I should have searched
the house at the beginning.

The evidence was there.

Ladies
and gentlemen of the jury,

my client, Marcus
Walwyn, stands before you

with the most profound remorse.

The murders of Sharon
Hayes and Darren Cornell

were unprovoked and willful.

There can be no
defense for them,

and my client offers no defense.

Yet on one point, he
remains unshakable.

Marcus Walwyn did
not kill Karen Scott.

I must say,

poor Harry did his best,
but the jury didn't buy it.

They did me for Karen, as well.

...advantages of life...

good schooling, a loving family.

Ma was upset, of course.

Heather, too.

Sad waste of a perfectly
decent direction.

...not
only the lives of others,

but, also, his own.

Camp Carl came every day.

Nice for some, as
I'm sure he'd say.

...time of her
death, he was lying at home,

in bed, in an alcoholic stupor.

He did not kill...

But someone else

was there for the verdict.

Kranze looked as pleased and
proud as a published author,

because he was the stalker.

I was still the apprentice.