The X-Files (1993–…): Season 1, Episode 12 - Fire - full transcript

Mm-hmm, yes.

Love you.

I love you.

Hello.

Morning, sir.

Ah, good morning.

Good morning, Cecil.

Top of the morning to you.

Oh, thank you.

Good-bye, darling.

Good-bye, Charles.



What time can
I expect you?

Before supper.

I forgot what it was like
to spend a day in court.

That's one of
the luxuries

to hunting down aliens
and genetic mutants.

You rarely get
to press charges.

It's opened.

What?

It's unlocked.

That's weird.

I'm sure I locked it.

Must be an X File.

What's that?

I told you I locked the door.



What do you think it is?

Ten to one, you
can't dance to it.

Greetings, Agent Mulder.

Six months ago,
British Minister of Parliament

Reggie Ellicott
received an audio cassette

much like the one
you are listening to now.

Unfortunately
for Minister Ellicott,

when he popped
the tape into the car stereo,

he armed a device which,
when he tried to exit the car,

created an explosion
which was heard five miles away.

The Scotland Yard forensic team
could only identify

the poor bastard
by his dental records.

If only he hadn't reached
for the door handle

and triggered the detonator.

But then how was he to know

he was sitting on enough
plastic explosive

to lift the car 40 feet
in the air

and deposit the engine block

on top
of a three-story building?

Aren't we looking
rather ghostly?

It's an old friend.

Aren't you going
to thank me?

For what?

Saving your life.

One tends not to make
the same mistake twice.

- I'll try to remember that.
- Oh, come on,

don't tell me
you left your sense of humor

in Oxford
ten years ago.

No, actually it's
one of the few things

you didn't drive
a stake through.

You know, some mistakes are
quite worth making twice.

Dana Scully,

this is Phoebe Green.

Terror of Scotland Yard.

Hello.

Hello.

She hates me.

What brings you
to the colonies?

Some clever bloke
has been giving

the aristocracy
a good scare.

Killed off a ranking member
of Parliament

or three for good measure.

Set Windsor Castle
ablaze in '92.

Your car bomber?

No. This one likes

to burn his victims alive.

Can't figure out how
he does it either.

Not a crumb of evidence
left at the crime scene.

The last one died
in his front garden,

his poor, young wife
watching helplessly

as he went up in smoke.

The Irish Republican Army?

Our suspect likes
to send love letters

to his victims' wives.

Sent one to the wife
of Sir Malcolm Marsden

a month ago.

Three days later he narrowly
escaped a fire in his garage.

It burned to the ground.

So they're renting a place
out on Cape Cod.

Bringing the family
over to the States

for an extended holiday

or until we can catch
the dirty bugger.

Do you think
he's that determined?

Judging by his success,
he seems to take

a certain delight in his work.

So, what brings you on
this detour to Washington, D.C.,

Inspector?

I figured my friend Mulder...

...couldn't resist
a three-pipe problem.

I'll run it
by our arson specialist.

Splendid.

I'll call London,
let them know.

Oh, good-bye.

Three-pipe problem?

That's from, uh,

Sherlock Holmes.

It's a private joke.

How private?

Um...

we knew each other in school
in England.

She was brilliant

and, uh, I got in over my head

and, uh, paid the price.

Mulder, you just keep unfolding
like a flower.

That was over
ten years ago, Scully.

Yeah, I noticed how you
couldn't drop everything

fast enough
in order to help her out.

Oh, I was merely extending
her a professional courtesy.

Oh, is that
what you were extending?

Look, I'm going to run this
by the arson guys

and then she's on her own.

Something tells me
you're not going

to get rid of her that easily.

Beautiful.

Oh, just beautiful.

Look at that.

Salmon red flames.

This is 1,400-1,500 degrees.

This is a work of art.

Was there any kind
of incendiary device used?

Yes, actually.

The victim's body.

Spontaneous combustion?

He was murdered.

However, we've turned up
no evidence

that tells
how the body caught fire.

That's peculiar.

People don't normally
just catch on fire.

I mean, we burn, but we don't
conduct all that well.

There's usually some kind
of extraneous fuel involved

like candle
wax, gasoline--

something flammable
and incendiary

that adheres
to the skin.

Like an accelerant.

- Like an accelerant. Yes.
- But we've found no trace

of anything
save for a dusting of magnesium

at two of the sites.

That's aliphatic pyrolysis.

It's a residue remaining
after an exothermic reaction.

But there's no evidence
of the source--

no pour pattern
or ignition devices.

There have been some arson fires

in Seattle lately
and, um, Pennsylvania.

They burn so hot that
the firemen can't put 'em out.

7,000 degrees.

I mean, hosing that down
just makes it worse.

How's that?

Well, the, uh,
reaction is so intense

that it splits
the water

into hydrogen
and oxygen.

It just adds fuel to the fire.

What were they using?

We don't know for sure.

It could be rocket fuel.

That stuff burns
so hot and clean,

there's never
a trace left.

You see, it's very difficult
to prove arson.

It's driving
the insurance companies nuts.

Well, that's about the only
explanation that I can give you.

But there have been cases
of pyrokinetics--

people who can control
and conduct fire.

Well, I've seen fire
bend around corners,

seen it bounce
like a rubber ball.

Fire has got a certain genius,
you know,

a certain demon poetry.

It's like it's got
a mind of its own,

but I've never seen
one that can defy

the laws of physics,
not when you figure it out.

You've, uh...

got quite a case
for yourself here, Mulder.

I almost wish I could be
in your shoes.

Hey, Jackson.

Boy, that's a nice house.

- Oh, what do you think?
- What a pleasant surprise.

Welcome to America,
Sir Malcolm.

Thank you very much.
I'm delighted to be here.

Where's the dog?

Darling.

Right there.

In here, please.
Thank you.

- And over there as well.
- All right.

But the second one,
I want upstairs.

Gentlemen,
the second set of boxes

will go directly
up the stairs.

Please be careful.

Hello there.

Hello.

I'm Bob the caretaker.

We've been exchanging letters.

Oh, good heavens.
Yes, of course.

- Hello, Bob, how are you?
- Excuse the paint.

- Hi.
- Hello.

Just trying to spruce
the place up for you.

Well, it's delightful.

The photos
don't do it justice.

Anything I can do for you,
anything at all,

you just holler.

- Thank you, Bob, thank you very much.
- Thanks.

Seems like a rather nice
fellow, don't you think?

Very.

My God, darling,

that painting rather
looks like you.

What do you think?

Oh, I don't know.

I've never been
good at this one.

Bloody little cur,
I'll skin you alive.

See, I'm the caretaker now.

So, Sherlock, is the game afoot?

I'm afraid so, Watson.

You're off the hook on this one.

What do you mean?

I mean I'm not going
to put you through this.

Put me through what?

Phoebe's little mind game.

What are you
talking about?

There's something else I haven't
told you about myself, Scully.

I hate fire.

Hate it.

I'm scared to
death of it.

When I was a kid, my
best friend's house burned down.

Had to spend the night in
the rubble to keep away looters.

For years I had nightmares

about being trapped
in a burning building.

Wait,

- and Phoebe knows about this?
- Oh, yeah,

this is classic Phoebe Green,
mind game player extraordinaire.

Ten years it's taken me
to forget about this woman,

and she shows up in my life
with a case like this.

So she shows up knowing
the power she has over you

and then she makes you walk
through fire.

Is that it?

Phoebe is fire.

Mulder,
are you sure

you don't want me
to help you out on this one?

Sooner or later,
a man's got to face his demons.

Hello, you're the
Marsdens' driver?

Who's that?

Bob.

Caretaker.

Oh.

Bum a smoke?

Yeah, sure.

I'm going into town.

Can I get you anything?

Yeah... some cough medicine
if it's no problem.

Syrup or...

lozenges?

Syrup would be good.

Can I give you some money?

Appreciate that.

Beer.

They don't let you bring
your own around here.

Well, I guess they'll just
have to make an exception,

won't they?

Oh, you're English.

God, I just love that accent.

Allow me.

And a gentleman to boot.

Oh, my God.

Now, that is a trick.

Hey, guys, take a look at this.

Care for a light?

I pulled this report
off the wire last night.

Eyewitnesses are saying

that a customer
in the bar caught fire,

but they're still
looking for a body.

Any indication an
accelerant was used?

The bar is across the street
from a fire station.

Burned to the ground

before they had a chance
to even respond.

The fire marshal said
it burned so hot,

it turned the concrete
foundation into sponge cake.

This is a woman
who was in the bar.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- Miss Kotchek?
- Yes.

I'm Special Agent
Mulder from the FBI.

This is Inspector Green.

Can you tell us

what happened
in the bar last night?

There was this guy.

I'd had a few drinks, so...

He sat next to me and
he did this thing.

It was like
a magic trick

where he lit his
finger on fire.

Next thing, I turned around,
he was up in flames.

Can you describe him?

Good-looking,
I think.

Brownish hair.

Long hair, short hair?

I've already given the police
the information.

Do you think you could work
with a composite artist

and come up
with a sketch for us?

Look, I said I had a few drinks.

Can I get your full name
and address?

See...

I live with someone.

He thinks I was at school
last night.

It's no problem.

You can come down

to the field office
and work with somebody there.

I'll give you a minute
to think about it, okay?

Deftly done, Agent Mulder.

Casually disregard
her indiscretion.

A firm but polite manner

until she accedes
to cooperate.

It's a technique I refined
in my relationship with you.

Oh, yes, well,

I see you haven't lost
your sense of humor after all.

I'm sorry, that
was a cheap shot.

I don't want to
dredge up the past.

Let's just stick
to the case.

Let's.

- Look, Phoebe, I...
- Unless I'm mistaken,

ten years seems sufficient
time to have forgiven

if not forgotten
a few youthful indiscretions.

I'm cursed with a
photographic memory.

Then don't you tell me
that you've forgotten

a certain
youthful indiscretion...

atop Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's
tombstone

on a misty night
in Windlesham.

Like I said, let's just
stick to the case.

Well, it occurred to me that
we're going to a lot of trouble

to find the description of a man
who, in all likelihood,

has been burned to a crisp.

I would agree with you, but
they haven't found a body yet.

So, can we count on you?

Yeah, okay.

I don't know
if it matters,

but I remembered something else
about the guy who caught fire.

He had an English accent.

Having a rough time, huh?

Maybe it's the cough syrup.

After reviewing the files

of the Scotland Yard
arson/murders,

two points remain unexplained.

One is the use
of an untraceable accelerant.

The other involves the victims.

Since they all burned in
the presence of family members

in safe surroundings,
this indicates

unusually intimate access
to the victims by the arsonist.

The arsonist is most likely a
male less than 25 years of age.

He will often act
out of impulse,

satisfying sexual urges
or insecurities

with destructive behavior,
which compensates

for his social inadequacies
or maladjustments.

You boys want to see
a magic trick?

Okay.

What's your names?

Michael and Jimmie.

Doesn't he talk?

Yes.

What kind of a magic trick?

Maybe I'd better not.

Show us.

Nah, you might tell
your mom and dad.

We won't tell.

Really? Promise?

Promise.

Hope to die--
stick a needle in your eye?

Okay, boys.

You've taken the solemn oath
of trust that can't be broken

except under penalty...

of death.

Watch.

Is it in there?

No.

Ah, you're too smart for me.

Where did it go?

Where did it go?

Where do you think
it went, Jimmie?

I don't know.

Uh... I think I remember.

Ta-da!

Ooh!

- Do it again.
- You want me to do it again?

Yes.

Okay, we'll do it again.

- Agent Beatty?
- Yeah.

I'm Special Agent
Dana Scully.

Can I steal a minute
of your time?

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah,
sure, come in,

come in, come in.

I'm just working on this
Mafia torch job here.

I'm working
with Agent Mulder.

Oh, yeah, wild case.

So, what can I do for you?

You mentioned that the arsonist
might be using

some kind of rocket fuel
as an accelerant.

Yeah, that's just speculation.

It still doesn't explain
how he sets bodies on fire.

What if he got
some of this fuel

into some hand cream or...?

Well, you've got
to understand,

even the smallest
amounts of this stuff

can produce temperatures
over 5,000 degrees,

but I suppose it's
not impossible.

Extremely diluted.

But you still have to
find a way to ignite it.

Wow!
It lit by itself!

Come on, sit down.

So, you guys
ever smoked a cigarette?

No. They're bad for you.

Would you like
to take a puff, Michael?

No.

Make a man out of you.

I don't want to.

Why don't you hold one for me?

How about you, Jimmie?

Huh, little man?

Jimmie,

Michael.

Hello.

Bob.

Ugh.

There you are.

Um, we've had

a bit of bad news.

Um, our driver has taken ill,

and we're due at a party
in Boston this evening.

Is there any chance
that we can impose upon you

to drive the family into town?

We'd be more than happy
to pay you for your time

and certainly to put you up
for the night.

I'd be very happy
to do it as a favor.

Oh, good, thank you.

All right, then,
boys, let's go.

Daddy's got lunch all ready.

Jimmie, you're
absolutely filthy.

Come on, I'll race you.

- Oh, Mom, I don't mind.
- Honestly, Jimmie...

The arsonist
is usually unmarried

and prone to obsessive
fantasies about women or men

who are inaccessible to him.

Often the setting of fires
results from his cowardice

and inability to develop
a natural relationship.

His crimes are often very
clever and elaborately planned.

The suspicious nature
of the fire last night

strongly suggests the arsonist
has followed Lord Marsden

to the United States.

A check
of all recent immigration

to the northeastern area
is underway.

It has become
not a matter of if

but when he will strike.

Here's that immigration data
you wanted.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

Remember those reports I told
you about-- about people

who control and conduct
fire-- pyrokinetics?

Vaguely.

I think this guy just
sent us a message

that he's far more exotic.

I should say so, I mean,
if he can set himself afire.

What?

I'm just not used to someone
so quick to agree with me.

- Oh.
- What kind of protection does the family have?

The driver's
a very capable bodyguard.

Well, he should look into
getting a few additional men

and limit
public exposure.

Oh, they've got
a party being held

in their honor
tonight in Boston.

They're gonna have
to cancel.

Unless you wanted
to set a trap.

I had thought
of that,

but we must be careful
and discreet.

The party's at 8:00
at the Venable Plaza.

I'll be traveling
with the family

so why don't you go on ahead
and have

a look around?
Oh, and...

I've taken a room
at the hotel for the night.

Thanks.

All right, thank you.

Mulder.

It's Scully. Where are you?

I'm in Boston.

I've got something to show you.

I'm gonna come up there.

What have you got?

I might have some information

on the identity
of your arson suspect.

Are you there, Mulder?

Yeah... yeah.

Can I meet you somewhere?

No, it's just, I'm,
I'm kind of anticipating

having my hands full.

We're here.

- Good evening.
- Thank you.

Let's go inside.

- Evening, sir.
- Hello.

Enjoying yourself?

There's good food,

witty conversation.

I'm having the time
of my life.

I wondered if you
think it's safe enough

to indulge ourselves
in a dance?

Doesn't look
like your arsonist

is going to make
an appearance.

That doesn't mean there won't
be any fires to put out.

I've thought
about you often.

There's a fire upstairs.

What?

On the 14th floor.

That's where the
children are.

We've got a fire
on the 14th floor.

Let us out!

Hurry up.

Here we go.
Got one down.

Come on, buddy,
come on.

Come on,
here you go.

Can you walk?
You get him?

Yeah, I got him.
Hold on.

Here we are.

Mommy.

Jimmie, Michael, oh, my
God, are you all right?

You saved their lives.

- Who is he?
- He's the driver.

Thanks. Thanks.

Well done, good
job, thank you.

You were really out.

Where's Phoebe?

She's down the hall.

What about the kids?

Okay. The doctor
checked them out.

What happened to you up there?

I panicked.

Couldn't even move, Scully.

It could have
happened to anyone.

Yeah... but it happened to me.

I haired out...
plain and simple.

What do you
know about

this guy that saved
the kids-- the driver?

I checked him out prior
to the Marsdens' arrival.

He's worked on the property
for eight years.

No record.

His references checked out.

They were lucky
he was here tonight.

Who was watching
the kids tonight?

- He was.
- Are you sure?

I could have sworn I saw
him down in the hallway

about the same time
that the fire broke out.

You couldn't have.

Anyway, the man
we're looking for

- is English.
- Hey.

I came to see if you were okay.

How are the kids?

They're fine.

Everybody's anxious to get back.

- To the cape?
- Only to pack.

They've made travel arrangements

back to England
for the day after tomorrow.

And you?

I'll be leaving in a few days.

Look, I'll give you a ring
back at the Bureau

before I leave.

All right.

Good-bye.

You okay?

Yeah.

You at all interested
in what I came

all the way up here to show you?

Yeah.

Well, I did some
checking on my own.

I didn't know a whole lot
about arson or arsonists

so I took the opportunity

for my own edification,
of course.

I ran a profile of
possible incendiary fuels

and accelerants that
could have been used

in the crimes.

I also took
the liberty

of running a search
through Interpol

of all the gardeners,

manservants, and
domestic help

that were hired by
the murder victims

at the time of
their deaths.

- And...?
- And

these people probably
don't even tie their own shoes.

There were over 200 names

and not a duplicate...
except one.

A Cecil Lively.

He worked as a gardener
for two of the victims.

And what did you find on him?

Nothing.

- So he's clean.
- Apparently

he was questioned
by Scotland Yard

and they released him,
but I dug a little further.

Cecil Lively
is a documented citizen

of Great Britain,
paid his taxes,

never been on the dole,
a model citizen--

until he died in 1971
in a London tenement fire.

I know, that's
what I thought,

so I checked a little further.

Cecil L'Ively, spelled
"L-apostrophe," came up again.

In fact, it came up twice--

first on a list
of death certificates

listed among a group of children
who died in ritual sacrifice

by a satanic
cult in 1963

in the Toddingham Woods
outside Bath, England.

Where else did you find it?

You're going
to love this.

On a list of recent visas

issued by
the British government.

Cecil L'Ively's passport

was stamped
by U.S. immigration officials

two weeks ago
at the port of entry in Boston.

Call the local field office
in Boston of the FBI

and get them to fax you
the composite the witness did

of the man who burned down
the bar and then get them

to fax it to every local law
enforcement agency in the area.

What are you going to do?

I'm going to try
and catch Phoebe.

This guy could be waiting
for them in Cape Cod.

Yes, this is
Special Agent Scully.

I've been waiting on hold
for you guys

to fax me a composite
of an arson suspect.

Right. Hang on a second.

It's coming through.

Thanks.

Oh, my God.

It's the driver.

We're sorry, the cellular
customer you are trying to reach

is out of the area.

Excuse me.

His name is
Cecil L'Ively.

Who?

Your arsonist.

Where's the rest
of the family?

They went outside for a walk.

Well, go find 'em.
We got to get 'em packed

and get 'em out of here.

Come on, we have
to hurry, let's go.

I'm sorry, children, we have
to leave right away.

It's the driver.

I know. He disappeared.

What's the matter?

Nothing. Um, I found this
out in the garage.

It's been very hard
on the family.

Did you get the composite?

- Yes.
- I don't believe it. I can't believe it.

He's worked for us
for over ten years.

Well, obviously there's been
some type of mistake.

Oh.

Oh, my God.

This isn't the driver.

It's the caretaker.

And he's upstairs
with the children.

- Jimmie, Michael...
- Michael.

Michael?

Michael.

Jimmie.

Looks like we found

the missing driver.

Mulder, in here quickly.

What's going on?

They just went up

all by themselves.

My God!

- Oh, my God.
- Everybody out!

Let's go, get out, get out!

- Let's go!
- Go, go, go!

I think he rigged
the whole house.

Oh, no.

It's fuel.

Go! Go!

- Quick, come on.
- Come on.

Come on, move, move.

Scully, see if you can find
a fire extinguisher.

Everybody else,
outside.

But what about the children?

I'll take care
of the children.

Go.

You gonna be
okay, Mulder?

Oh, yeah, I'll be fine.

There's no place
I'd rather be.

Michael, Jimmie, you in there?

Time to call 911.

Don't move!

Freeze.

Federal agent.

You won't shoot me.

Stay right where you are.

You see?

'Cause you don't know

the spark from that round

won't blow this whole house
to kingdom come.

Aah!

Back off, Scully,
it's the accelerant!

No.

- Help us!
- Help us!

- Help us, please!
- Help!

Aah!

Michael, Jimmie,
thank God, thank God.

You can't kill me!

You can't fight fire

with fire!

Care to take
me to lunch?

Scare you?

You have no idea.

Where is Phoebe?

I don't know.

You don't know.

She didn't call?

No. She did messenger this
to me last night, though.

Did you play it?

No.

Why not?

Aren't you curious
what's on it?

Ten to one,
you can't dance to it.

X File #11214893:

addendum to the file opened
by Special Agent Mulder.

The arson suspect Cecil L'Ively

was admitted
to Boston Mercy Hospital

with fifth-
and sixth-degree burns

over his entire body.

Military burn specialists
have been brought in

to study the case, which
they're calling extraordinary

not only for the fact
the suspect survived

but for the rapid regeneration
of his basal cell tissue.

Full recovery is anticipated
in as little as a month.

L'Ively is being held

in a high-security
medical facility.

- There you go.
- Confined to a hyperbaric chamber

until he can be tried
on murder charges

in the death
of a Massachusetts caretaker.

His body temperature remains
at a steady 109 degrees.

Health technicians have removed

anything flammable
from his room

due to several fires

which have broken out
in the vicinity.

According to Agent Mulder,

further incarceration
remains a problem

for federal penal authorities.

Can I get you
anything, sir?

I'm just dying for a cigarette.