The Motive (2020–2021): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript

I asked you if I knew
what you think his reason was,

if I would understand him,
if it would make me feel empathy for him.

-You said that I would.
-Right.

And if you knew, you'd tell me,
"You know what? That's right."

-And I would understand everything?
-Everything.

-Including the murder of his sisters?
-Yes.

-What you're saying is crazy.
-It isn't crazy at all.

If you knew the reason that I think,
and I know, actually,

then you'd understand everything.

It solves everything.

That's why I'm sure it's true,
because it solves everything.



The director called us in and said,
"Guys, we're about to receive a boy."

"He's not like the other boys here."

He told us more or less the background
and the crime he had committed.

Of course, when we heard that,

we were very confused and shocked.

"Edward…"

"Eliahu…"

"Alex…"

When I saw him for the first time,
I said, "I don't believe it."

"Excuse me for saying, am I looking
at a monster? I don't believe it."

"Did he really do that? No,
I don't think so, I think something's…"

It was very hard for me to understand,
to digest.

Not just me, the whole staff.

We couldn't believe it.



If he had been a bully,
and you could see something in his face,

that negative thing, you'd say,
"Okay, he's like that."

But you see this boy
who is skinny, quiet, relaxed,

wondering, staring.

And we told the boys that
we don't know exactly what happened,

even if you've heard what you've heard,

we're treating him just like we treat you.

But the hatred had already
begun to penetrate, so to speak.

Why?

From the facts they'd heard, they already
knew that he'd done what he'd done,

to them that was the end.

"A mother? What on Earth?"

As though he'd crossed the line,
so to speak.

That's not right,
because we love our mothers,

You know, "What, a mother?"

And if they'd known the reason he did it,

it would've been manslaughter not murder.

Because?

Because it was so…

-What do you say?
-Yes.

And wouldn't it have been easier
for him if people had known it,

in terms of his place in the world?

So he wouldn't seem
like a monster to everyone?

-When he had a really good reason?
-No.

-No?
-No.

Definitely not.

So there's something worse than being

a boy that looks like a monster who
killed. There's something worse than that?

-Yes.
-Wow.

-So it's no accident you love him.
-No.

I may have forgotten to mention that he
completed his matriculation on his own.

They just gave him the study material.

Nobody helped him.

One day, I accompanied him.

He studied grammar. I accompanied him
to Ironi Gimel High School in Tel Aviv,

and asked him, "Well? How did it go?"

I said, "How did it go?" So he said,

"It was easy."

"Grammar? Easy?"

He got a good grade.

Not just in that field.

In all the fields. In everything.

We were just stunned.

It's just a gut feeling.

Incest.

-It's of course the only thing that could…
-I don't know.

That I can imagine so I can say that I
understand the person.

You don't have to.

And no…

No comment.

The first thing that comes to mind
for any non-professional person,

someone who hasn't studied
psychiatry or psychology,

is that maybe this kid was abused.

A victim?

First thing you think
of is the father. I guess, you know,

maybe you think these things too,
maybe he had some inner rage,

he was terribly abused?

Maybe by the father or someone else,

maybe the others were quiet about it,

-and that caused it.
-Look, first of all,

there doesn't have to be abuse…

It's a very strong word, abuse.

Very severe emotional damage

to make a boy do such a thing.

It depends on the structure
of his personality.

If his personality is,
say, very narcissistic,

you don't have to have abuse
to make him decide to do such a thing.

Second, in most cases
when we know there was some kind of abuse,

physical, sexual, emotional,

the environment gives you
some sort of feedback.

It doesn't happen in the basement.

The environment tells you about
the relationship and what it was like.

A relationship the family could report,

that they witnessed such situations,

various types of anger.

We weren't able to gather any
such information about such situations.

There may have been,
but we didn't get to them.

But it's clear, it goes through the mind
of anyone who talks to him--

I told you, you can draw
all kinds of hypotheses,

but I can't give them any weight.

Of course, but you probably
thought about everything,

when you sat with him for three weeks.

I suppose you thought about everything.

We tried.

We tried going in all directions, yes.

What really troubles me the most

is the girls.

That's what troubles me here.

How are the girls related to this story,

if at all?

I won't tell you.

Because then you said,
that every bullet had a reason.

You said that once.

There was a reason he killed them,
it didn't just happen.

There was a reason.

For both his sisters.

Yes.

Nothing was random.

He's in a different position than you,
you're not where he was.

That's why you cannot get inside his head.

But something terrible happened there.
So maybe someone knew about it.

If anyone had known about it,
they would have prevented it.

They would have prevented it?

If I'm protecting my sisters, I kill them?

Does that sound rational to you?

I'm protecting my sisters, and my dad
is awful to my sisters, I'll kill him?

He can say what he said,
it doesn't match the result.

It doesn't fit in any way. No way.

There's no way that I go
to protect her and I kill her.

There's no way.

I'm telling you based on my experience,
there's no way.

Now, it wasn't the family's fault,

it wasn't the parent's fault,
nor the social worker's,

nor the neighborhood's.
It was no one else's fault.

Once a week, every Sunday,
a psychologist would arrive.

I can't remember his name.

He'd try to convince him to show regret.

Simple.

He didn't express any regret.

Until he completed
his sentence at Mitzpe Yam

and went to adult prison,

he never once expressed regret.

They tried to convince him, but nothing.

He said, "What happened, happened."
Total indifference.

"What happened, happened. I don't care."

I told him in person,
just between us, "Come on…"

He said, "I don't care.
Don't expect me to." I'll never forget.

"Don't expect anything.
I just don't care."

And at the last moment,
is there a farewell, a party,

when you tell him, "Good luck?"
Was there such a moment?

I remember we had a party,

I don't think I was there.
It was very hard for me.

It was very hard

to wish him success
as we do with the other boys.

"Good luck, you've completed
one step, we wish you…"

It was very hard.
I was still so traumatized that

I couldn't wish him good luck
with all my heart. It was very hard.

After the party, maybe the next day,

a car came from the prison,

and two policemen came, of course,

I don't remember if they cuffed him,

and they put him in the car,

and everyone from behind said, "Bye."

And maybe some said,
"And hope never to see you again."

I didn't say that, but that was it.

-Where did they take him?
-To Maasiyahu Prison.

WELCOME TO WARD 6

FREEDOM IS PRICELESS

You never talked, right?

No.

And they came, they really came,

lots of journalists.

No one got a word from me.

Why?

It's none of their business.
I have a client.

It's against my client's interests
to dig this thing up again and again.

Ask me why I'm talking to you.

I don't know.

I, THE BOY WHO KILLED HIS DAD,
MOM AND SISTERS, WANT TO BE REHABILITATED

I spoke to one woman.
I gave her background material,

it was Ruthie Yovel, she wrote an article…

about him before the parole hearing.

In '92.

There was a parole hearing.

I wanted something for him.

Journalists called me constantly.

I had to choose someone.

I chose her
because she's a good journalist,

smart, clever.

So she wrote something
and it was very good.

-He got a third off?
-Yes.

-Later.
-After the article came out.

We began an interview at the safest place,
my office at the newspaper.

He's nice. Like…

He's nice because he's intelligent.

He's interesting.

He's not someone who lets things
pass him by, he analyzes them.

It's like he sees through things,

he can make connections.

He really is a very intelligent man.

He really knew how to behave with people.
He knew how to put you at ease.

I don't remember tension
at the beginning of the interview,

or anything that felt formal.
He was… one of the guys.

He gave me the feeling that he was trying

to understand what had happened.
to understand with me what had happened,

what had caused him to…

He wanted to figure out what had happened.

I left that interview feeling,

and this feeling kept growing,
because I dwelt on it,

that the father cast a big shadow
on the household.

That the father, and he says it there,
I remember that part,

he says, was like Jekyll and Hyde.

Outside, everyone treated him
as a kind and gentle man,

but at home he was a bad spirit.

And some people are like that.

For him,
it was outbursts of rage and beatings.

But he wasn't beaten.

I think that's, among other things,

because he played the role
of the prince in the house.

He was safe,
and the father didn't beat him,

but he hated himself

for that passive role he'd taken,

not getting involved,
and he lived in a kind of bubble.

He really used those words.

If I go back to the quotes I remember,
he felt like he was detached

from what was going on,
because he was afraid

to get involved, but he also

felt that what he had to at least
protect his sister who he was close to.

And he didn't like the role
he had in all of that,

but it protected him.

I think I suggested
we go back to Ein Karem.

When we reached Ein Karem,
the house looked very empty.

Here and there some neighbors peeked out,
and he was embarrassed.

And then I think we asked him
if anyone was living in the house,

because it looked like a ghost house,

and he said, "Yes, my grandmother."

And I said, "Have you…

seen her?"

"Do you want to see her?" He said, "Yes."
I asked, "Can I come with you?"

Then he said,
"I'd prefer to go alone first."

I said, "Can I come with you,
without a cameraman?"

And he said, "Let me see how
she is first."

She was very old,

half-blind I think, and not so active.
There was something wrong.

He took ten or fifteen minutes,
we waited for him.

And he came back,
and that was the first time,

and actully the last time throughout
that two day interview

that I could see something truly emotional
had happened to him.

He wasn't giving me his usual lines.

Something happened
that really shook him up.

There was this thing that kept growing
as the interview proceeded.

Maybe in our dialogue,
maybe because I also felt it so strongly,

I tried to steer him
and I went in that direction…

The fact
they weren't allowed to talk about it,

because, according to him,
when his sister…

The father went into
a rage and he beat her,

she spoke to the school counselor,

and the father was very mad,

and then he said to her,
"These things do not leave the house."

I was a guidance counselor
for the first year

and Shira was in the first year,
Ruthi Lahav was her teacher.

What can I say?

A wonderful girl.

A wonderful girl
with the usual problems of adolescence.

She didn't say anything unusual
about her house. Nothing was unusual.

I remember her always
with a big smile on her face.

She was a good student, too.

And she asked to come see you.

Yes.

She asked once,
and then it became regular.

-What do you mean by regular?
-Once a week.

-Shira came to see you once a week?
-Once a week.

Can you try to remember
those weekly meetings

and describe what happened?

She would come in, and we'd sit and talk.

She would talk about the things
that happened to her over the week,

the things she was uncomfortable with.

But I can't remember anything unusual.

There was nothing unusual.

She was an adolescent girl.

The other girls from Ein Karem would come
to me angry at their teachers,

angry at the principal, angry.

She had no anger.

She didn't talk about
home in an angry way.

Did you maybe feel

she was going through something difficult?

Nothing.

She would have told me.

If something had happened,
she would have talked to me.

She came to see me, after all.

When she came to you, did you know
her younger brother studied there too?

-Did you know him?
-Yes. But he wasn't a problem child.

-You knew him?
-Yes. I was class coordinator.

How would you describe him?

Introverted.

A very good student,
very serious,

not aggressive.

He never got into fights
with the other kids.

The only thing I felt uncomfortable about

when I talked to him
was that he made no eye contact.

But I hadn't noticed that back then.

It's only when I tried to think back,
after the catastrophe…

"What did you not see?"
I kept asking myself.

"What did you miss?"

Again and again,
and the only thing I could think of

was that he didn't make eye contact.

It bothered me,
otherwise I wouldn't have remembered it.

Why did it bother you?

Because with an open person

there's a connection,

there's communication.

It's no accident
I didn't go visit him afterward.

Look, I was mourning for Shira.

Shira was mine.

And Shira is gone.

Shira was something very special,

and I could cry right now for her loss.

You know, sometimes you have
a puzzle that you cannot solve.

Finally you find one corner,
and boom, it all comes together.

That's it.

And nobody found that piece of the puzzle.

Neither did I.

It's--

If you understood what I think happened,
you'd understand everything.

It fits together perfectly.

Wow.

I remember something else, that…

He said something, and I also
got the impression that, ultimately,

as of when I interviewed him,
and before that too,

he liked the way
he was without a family more

than he liked that submissive person,

that meek,
passive person in that situation.

Like, he did something, and after that,
there's nothing he cannot do.

And when he says,

"If this hadn't happened to me,
I would have stayed…"

"I would be a less successful person."

What he's actually saying is,
"I was much weaker."

"Today, nothing can defeat me."

"I cannot fail."

"If I fail,
I pick myself up and move forward."

And he did that.

Did you fall in love with him a little?
As a person?

I fell for his ability, his language,

the way he could take me
anywhere in the conversation

without saying no to any question,

or giving me evasive answers,

and be so smart.

But the entire time, there was that thing…

"It makes no sense,
that at no point did your eyes well up."

Don't pursue it. I advise you.

Don't pursue it. You shouldn't.

Because sometimes,
I told you, there is no "maybe."

There is no "possibly." There is or isn't.

If there is, something backs it up.

And if there isn't, there isn't.
And here, there isn't.

-He can say whatever. There isn't.
-There's a reason.

-What is it?
-We don't know, but there is one.

-There's a reason, I also say that.
-That's progress--

I also say, I told you, once there's…

-Yes, right.
-…learning and execution,

there's motive,

a week's worth of thought until
he came back from the army a second time.

He learned it the week before.
There's a reason, no doubt.

It's not,
like I thought all along and told you

a moment where a demon comes out.

No, if he learned and used it,

and knew how to use it, there's something.
He thought about it all week, sure.

It wasn't on the spur of the moment.

But what?

They'll throw things at you,

he can even, forgive me, throw you
in a completely different direction.

What does he care? He's protecting him.

He'll tell you, "Look over there,"

when there's something else, something
completely different in the background.

So you go and dig and look,
and again, how did he put it?

"Twenty moves from the start."
This is the twentieth move, to get to you,

and he says,
"I'm going to cast you aside too."

Do you understand?

So that's it.
Beware of people who play chess.

Beware of them.

-You're right.
-Yes, they want to stalemate you.

That boy who wrote poems and limericks

and courted in the most childish
and innocent and sweet way…

he did something so… not innocent?

Not childlike?

And you knew nothing, actually.
It stayed open.

It's not that it stayed open, it's just…

Something that happened.

But we didn't really dwell on it.
I mean, we lived our lives,

I graduated from high school, I did my
military service, traveled after the army,

I went to university,
and as part of my degree…

I wonder what it's like today.

Back then, every student
had to complete two hours of sports,

no matter what you were studying,

and there was a very big selection,
and I chose windsurfing.

I decided that I would
spend half a day in the morning…

enjoying this gift
the university was giving me.

Like…

"What's happening here?"

Like, I understood what I was seeing,
but it took me time to tell myself

that is what was happening.
That I was meeting him.

My body was…
I was rooted in the sand.

I couldn't move.

It was like seeing a demon.

He'd changed too.

As a boy, he was short and pale,

and suddenly someone else stood before me.

Tall, dark.

Hairier. He was a man.

Like how people go to the army and become…

machos.

That question, "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me, shouldn't you be
somewhere not as nice and ideal?"

"You're in a windsurfing class

as part of your academic studies?"

And like, what, it has nothing to do with…

What can you tell me about him, I mean,

from then until now.
What things you can tell me?

-About him?
-In recent years, what you can say--

-He's working.
-I mean, this man…

He's completely normal,

he works, makes a living,

he gets compliments in his profession.

He's a man. He has kids, everything.

Completely normal.

Subtitle translation by: Harry Darkins