Previously on The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair...
Well, this is me.
I work here on Saturdays.
You should, uh, come by.
: For the past week,
the famous New York writer Mr. Harry Quebert
has been coming here every day.
Is this one of the best restaurants?
: Yes, Mrs. Quinn.
Yes, Mom.
And don't call me Mom, okay?
It's not a country inn.
: Whatever happened
to innocent until proven guilty?
I can't just leave it there.
The whole thing makes me wanna puke.
Oh, shit...
Go back to New York, Marcus.
Stay far away from all this.
: How come I never heard of Nola Kellergan before,
all the time I've been coming here?
: Till we found her corpse,
it was all ancient history.
I want you to tell me about Nola, who she was.
I need to know everything, Harry,
if we're gonna get you out of here.
: Harry didn't kill that girl, Travis, I know it.
: Because he's your friend?
: Because there's someone out there
who doesn't want me to figure out who did.
This is serious, Marcus.
You should have handed this over
to Gahalowood.
I've seen a lot of crazy shit as a cop.
People up in this corner of the country
do a lot of disgusting stuff with woodchippers and axes...
But I have two daughters,
and I can't imagine going through
what Mr. Kellergan as gone through.
Get out...
Please just go now.
Hey...
Hey!
Thanks for coming.
Did you hear about the car?
No, I haven't heard about anything.
What happened?
Tell me what happened.
Your Corvette got torched last night.
Whoa!
[firefighters shout, hoses spraying]
Marcus?
Hi, Travis.
You okay?
Yeah, uh, yeah, I was coming back,
and then as I turned in the driveway, I, um...
I saw somebody running into the woods,
and then I saw the flames.
Would you be able to identify the person you saw?
No, no, it was too dark.
Chief Travis!
I found this near the car.
"Strike three"?
Yeah, I, uh...
I got the second one yesterday.
I told you, Marcus, this isn't a joke.
I know, I know.
I'm gonna leave a patrol car here for the night
just in case.
Okay.
Travis Dawn is having the note analyzed,
but it really looks like
someone doesn't want me digging into this thing.
You know I'm supposed to go
in front of the grand jury
next Tuesday.
Mm-hm.
Roth says
they almost always side with the prosecution.
Yeah.
It's like a nightmare.
That I can't wake up from.
You know, they arrest me,
and I think I'm gonna be out in a few hours...
Now I could just...
rot here for the rest of my life.
Hey, you're not gonna go to prison, okay?
Me and Roth,
we're here to make sure that doesn't happen.
Tell me more
about you and Nola,
your time together outside of Clark's.
Okay.
Um...
Things happened without my meaning them to.
I felt safe at Clark's.
Professional.
But the day she invited me to her concert,
the day I met her father,
that's when I knew I was in trouble.
...thank you very much
for that generous, generous donation--
Sorry.
I just wanted to introduce you
to someone.
Sure.
Mr. Quebert?
Yes?
Sorry to interrupt.
I'm-- I'm done for the day.
I just wanted to introduce you
to my father.
Oh!
Reverend David Kellergan,
this is Mr. Quebert.
Ah...
A pleasure. Very nice to meet you
So you're the famous writer
come to grace our little town.
Well, I think it's your little town
that has graced me.
Well, you should stop by our church
some Sunday.
It's a small congregation, but filled with good people.
I'm sure you'd fit right in.
Well, thank you very much for the invitation,
but I think I'm more of a Thoreau kind of guy.
I find my soul comes alive when I'm alone in nature.
Ah.
Well, uh, perhaps one day
you'll allow me to introduce you
to the true joy of Christian fellowship--
Okay...
All right, Daddy.
Uh, we're gonna go.
Um...
there's a high school show today at 5:30.
Oh, my daughter here has the voice of an angel.
Oh, really?
Stop...
Wow.
Now, Nola, leave Mr. Quebert here in peace.
Why would he want to come to a high school show?
He might want a break...
from writing.
Yeah, I'm... Well, to be honest,
I have a lot of work I need to get done.
There you go. You see?
You have a good evening now, Mr. Quebert.
It was a real pleasure meeting you, Reverend.
Same here.
Break a leg.
Thank you.
He seems very nice.
Mm-hm, yeah, he is.
Hi! Mr. Quebert?
Yes.
I'm Maggie Pratt.
Hi, Maggie.
This is Chief Pratt.
Hi, Chief.
I'm the Chief's wife.
It's an honor to meet you--
Ladies and gentlemen,
I'd like to welcome you
to the end of the year Montburry Talent Show.
♪ Wise
♪ Men
♪ Say
♪ Only fools
♪ Rush
♪ In
♪ But I
♪ Can't help
♪ Falling in love
♪ With you
♪ Like a river flows
♪ Surely to the sea
♪ Darling, so it goes
♪ Some things
♪ Are meant to be
♪ So take
♪ My hand
♪ Take my whole life
♪ Too
♪ For I
♪ Can't help
♪ Falling in love
♪ With
♪ You...
You should go home.
Why'd you run off?
You should go home.
I'm a little... I've been drinking.
I'm a-- I'm a little drunk.
Why were you drinking, Harry?
I'm just tired of the solitude.
I'm here to keep you company.
I finished your book, Harry,
"The Mirror of Life"?
Mm
It broke my heart.
It was so open, and beautiful,
and...
brave.
Thank you.
Maybe it's just...
it's just easier to... hmm...
to write about the world
than... live in it.
It's not easier,
it's safer.
Like riding a bike with the brakes on.
But who wants to ride a bike with the--
with the brakes on?
I sound like the drunk one now.
Did you like the song?
Yes.
Did you hear it all the way through?
Yes.
Your dad was right.
About what?
You have a voice of an angel.
: Well, I had to get her out of my head.
So the following week,
I tried to get closer to Jenny...
Jenny who works in the diner.
She was a nice girl. She was sweet.
She was funny.
I liked her.
She was flirting with me,
and at 26, she was starting to worry
about living at home with her parents.
You gotta eat something, Harry.
You're gonna get heartburn
if you're tryin' to get by on an empty stomach
and half a gallon of coffee.
Okay, I'm gonna have two eggs over easy,
bacon...
Do you have English muffins?
Yeah, we do.
Would you do, um, a grilled English muffin
with a little bit of butter?
Whoa, this is a big order--
I know,
and I'll have a quart of coffee would be fine.
Okay, great.
Oh, gosh...
How's it going?
You know, you know...
I'm filling up pages.
Yeah? This, uh,
this might be forward of me, but what's it about?
I'll let you know when I... I find out.
But I do know
that I'm gonna set it in a small town
by the ocean.
I hope that being here has given you some inspiration.
It has, and I promise
I'll change all the names to protect the innocent.
Okay, well, I'll, uh...
I'll go get your, um, fancy English muffin.
Great.
Do you have blueberry?
Crispy bacon, I've got it all.
A grilled English muffin, bacon and eggs
for the extraordinary Monsieur Quebert.
He likes you.
Oh, my gosh, stop being a peeping tom, Mother.
He's just being nice.
I think he's basing a character on you.
I wouldn't be surprised if it was the main one.
Don't be ridiculous.
I've seen him.
He's always staring at you,
and then quickly writing something down,
you know, like your mannerisms?
Or, like... something you said.
You're imagining things, Mama.
A man like Harry Quebert
isn't gonna be interested in some small-town waitress.
And why not?
You're beautiful, you're smart.
You're exactly the kind of woman
that men write books about.
Trust me.
I didn't raise a prom queen
so she could spend her life slinging burgers and fries.
Hey, Jenny.
Jen...
Hiya, Jenny.
Thunderbolt and Lightfoot is at the Montburry
on Saturday.
It's about bank robbers and car chases,
so it's racy.
Ha ha.
Wanna go?
Maybe grab some dinner
at the restaurant next to the post office?
Yup. Okay.
Hi, Jenny.
Oh, hey, Travis.
Coffee?
Sure.
So, uh, J-Jenny, um,
I was just wondering...
Yeah?
The movie theater.
What about the movie theater?
I, um...
Um...
There's been a robbery
at the movie theater in Montburry.
Oh, my god, that's terrible.
Actually, it was at the post office.
Wait, the post office
or the movie theater?
Um, well, actually, what I'm trying--
Jenny!
Excuse me, Travis.
Mom's been in a really foul mood lately.
Enjoy the coffee.
Robbery...
At the movie theater.
: Jenny was, uh...
She was a nice girl,
a really nice girl.
But she wasn't Nola.
I'd never met anyone so open and unaffected.
I'd go to Clark's every Saturday.
We'd have these incredible conversations.
Mm-hm.
She had such a curiosity
about everything,
music, books, art.
She awakened something in me,
an aliveness I hadn't felt in years.
The day would fly by, and around...
6:00 she'd be done.
I'd always offer her a ride home.
I'd take her halfway home,
and then she'd want to walk with me
at least part of the way.
I was...
I said, "No.
We can't walk."
It was complicated.
Well, walking isn't a crime.
No, but people will start asking questions.
So?
We'll tell them the truth.
That we were discussing Forster, and Dickens,
and why Maria Callas' "Tosca"
is still the greatest performance
by an opera singer ever.
I don't have anyone else to talk to about these things.
I just wish we could be together
without having to hide.
One day, before I dropped her off,
she asked if we could somehow get away on a Saturday.
She'd give Mrs. Quinn some excuse,
and that Jenny would cover for her.
I decided we could go up to Rockland for the day.
Harry, that...
I don't need your judgments, Marcus.
If you don't think I haven't spent
the last 30 years condemning myself,
well, then...
you don't really know me at all.
Oh, shit, shit...
Shit!
All right,
what's going on?
And what are you doing wearing that?
Where's your uniform?
He always comes on Saturdays.
Harry.
That's-that's why I said I'd cover for Nola.
So where is he?
Well, did he know you were working today?
No.
Oh, for heaven sake's,
the man's not a mind reader.
How would he know you're here?
Oh. I guess...
Yeah
Yeah, you're right, I guess he wouldn't.
Oh, what a jerk, look at me, I'm just...
I was all dressed up and nowhere to go.
Not necessarily.
Here's what you're gonna do.
You're gonna go over to Goose Cove,
and you're gonna bring him a picnic lunch.
I mean, the poor man's
probably been working so hard
he's forgotten to eat.
There are two ways to a man's heart,
one through his stomach,
and one through...
a nice dress.
Oh, oh, easy.
Okay, now, go home, and, you know,
get yourself all dolled up.
Okay.
They're so beautiful, aren't they?
Mmm.
So graceful and free.
You know, once they find their mate,
they stay together for life.
Really?
I think you should put seagulls in your book.
If you want,
I'll put them on every page.
What's your new book about?
Is it a love story?
Kind of.
With lots of monogamous seagulls.
What'd you tell your parents?
I told them I was with my friend, Nancy.
Mm
And we left early to spend the day
on her boyfriend Teddy's father's boat.
And where's Nancy?
On the boat with Teddy.
Alone.
She said that I was with them,
so Teddy's parents let them take the boat out.
What?
Oh.
Hello?
: "I go to there only to see her,
to be close to her.
She's everything I've ever dreamed of..."
"Close to her."
: "I am possessed by the sound of her voice,
of her laugh,
captivated by her sheer radiance.
I know I shouldn't go there.
She's so young.
I should leave, run away, never come back,
but I'm doing just the opposite.
Am I crazy?"
Refill?
Mm-hm, please.
You know, Saturday's not just the same
without your daughter, Reverend.
Very nice of you
to give her the day off, Mrs. Quinn.
She got up at dawn
to go sailing with friends, so...
Such a sweet girl you raised.
Oh, thank you, Mrs. Quinn.
I do appreciate hearing that, thank you.
Hmm.
No sign of the famous writer today, huh?
I think he's at home.
You know, busy, busy.
Charming man.
Have you met him?
I'm hoping to convince him
to become a member
of the congregation.
We need people like him
to move this town forward.
Well, I think he's gonna be around
for quite some time.
Just between you and me, Reverend,
I think he and my Jenny...
Really?
Mm-hm.
To you, Mrs. Quinn.
Congratulations.
Thanks.
Mmm.
You know what?
I'm gonna throw a little garden party,
let him see that we're no small-town hicks,
and that he could be happy here.
I hope you can join us.
You're a sweetheart.
Thank you.
What are you thinking?
I can't wait to leave Sommerdale.
I feel like I'm suffocating there.
Well, you can feel that anywhere.
I mean, try living in a small town
where your father's a pastor,
and your mother, she...
Your mother, she...
Well, she'd never been young.
That feeling's pretty universal
when you live with your parents.
My father is... he's a good man,
he's just really religious.
Mm-hm.
He has strange ideas, and...
my mother, she says we have to believe in God,
or else He'll punish us.
Do you believe in God, Harry?
Do you think it's okay not to love your mother?
Love isn't an obligation.
Hello?
Harry?
Close your eyes.
What?
Put out your hands.
What have you done?
You can open your eyes now.
Why, thank you.
It's from that, um...
that little store next to the juice bar.
Do you remember that?
Mm-hm.
Just a little something
so you'll never forget this day.
Oh, I won't.
Oh, wow, what is this?
It's for putting dry bread in.
So you can feed the seagulls.
Oh!
You have to feed the seagulls, Harry,
it's very important.
All right, I promise you,
I will feed the seagulls
every day.
Tell me something sweet.
Tell me I'm your... your darling Nola.
You're my darling Nola.
Oh--
What?
I can't.
We can't do this.
Talk to me.
We shouldn't see each other, Nola.
And now it's getting late.
You should go.
It's just...
It's getting late, and you should go.
I don't want to go.
I know, but you have to go.
Come on, you're gonna lose the light,
and you need to meet your friend.
Thank you for a lovely afternoon.
Thank you.
You have to go.
I knew it was wrong to feel the way I felt.
I had to end it, somehow,
before things went too far.
How did you?
That was the day I decided
to distance myself from Nola for good.
I needed to find somebody
that the world wouldn't condemn me for loving.
Someone I wouldn't condemn myself for loving.
Oh, no, it makes your butt look big.
You don't want Harry to think
you've been stuffing yourself, do you?
Try something else.
It's a frickin' nightmare.
Find something else, honey.
What's going on, honey bunny?
I told you, Bobbo.
Harry Quebert is taking Jenny to Augusta
to see the fireworks.
Who's Harry Quebert?
The famous writer from New York,
our resident celebrity.
Now, go change your clothes,
chop-chop!
I thought we were going
to the neighbors' barbecue tonight.
We are, but--
It's the 4th of July.
Later, okay?
And please, please, whatever you do,
don't tell Harry Quebert
that we eat hamburgers like ordinary people.
But we are ordinary people,
and I like hamburgers.
You run a hamburger joint.
Hey, and no sitting!
You're gonna mess everything up.
Do you know how long I spent cleaning up this dump?
Now, go change.
Into what?
Your suit.
You cannot receive Harry Quebert
in dirty socks and underwear.
I have to change my underwear too?
What--
How's this one?
Beautiful, sweetie.
Like a real live princess.
You know, I think you should try the red one.
Okay?
No, really,
it maximizes your assets!
What the hell are you doing?
It's 6:50, he's gonna be here in 10 minutes.
I'm going, I'm going--
: The red one is stained!
Maybe we can just tell him I'm sick or something.
Or that I died?
Shit! He's early.
Go on, go!
Go, go, go!
Go, go! Chop-chop!
Hey!
Maggie.
Yeah.
What are you doing here?
It's raffle time.
Oh, the raffle, of course.
Put me down for two books.
-Yeah, yeah.
-Yeah.
Oh, thanks.
Well, listen, now, you go have fun,
and be careful at the fireworks.
I'd hate to see you lose an eye.
Thanks for supporting that gala.
First prize is a trip to the Adirondacks.
Oh, wouldn't that be divine.
Yeah!
Listen, I gotta go.
I got a pie in the oven.
I can't smell it.
Oh, you poor thing.
So many people suffering from allergies these days.
I don't have allergies--
Nola!
What are you doing here?
I, um, I thought we could talk.
And
I even brought a bottle of wine.
It is from my father,
but he rarely partakes,
so I don't think he'll miss it.
I was hoping we could picnic on the beach,
and then find a secluded spot to talk?
I can't.
I thought we discussed this.
So I'm not even allowed to speak to you?
I have to go to Bar Harbor.
My publisher is in Camden for the 4th.
I'm sorry.
It's gonna be really boring,
I promise you.
Well...
So, why don't-- Let me, let me...
let me take you home, okay?
No, no, no--
Let me get the keys, let me get the keys.
No, it's fine, I-I'll walk.
You don't want to keep your publisher waiting.
I'm sorry if I bothered you.
Here he comes.
Right on time.
Places, everyone!
Places, everyone.
Jenny, top of the stairs.
Can we just be natural?
Bobbo...
Oh, Mr. Quebert.
Is it that time already?
Oh, please, come in, and do forgive the mess.
Jenny!
Mr. Quebert is here.
I'll get your purse.
Okay.
Here you go.
Thanks, Mom.
All right.
: And did it work?
Did going out with Jenny help take your mind off Nola
like you wanted it to?
Have a good time.
-Yeah, thank you. -Drive safe.
: No, but I kept trying.
She was a nice girl, and I knew she liked me,
so I used her, building her hopes up.
I always felt badly about that.
You have to stop this investigation, Marcus.
Why would I stop?
Because you're a target, and I'm worried about you.
Jenny...
I can't leave
until I understand what happened here 33 years ago.
Wanna take a walk?
Yeah.
Okay, let's go.
When your book, "G for Goldstein," came out,
oh, my God, Harry was so proud.
He bought dozens of copies.
Gave them to everyone.
Really?
Then it seemed like Harry never heard from you.
He pretended not to mind,
but it was like when you got famous,
you dropped him like a stone.
Yeah, you're right. I was a shit.
And that's why I'm here,
to make it up to him.
I thought it was because
your publisher wanted you to write a book about it.
He does, and I've refused.
But you have to.
First I say you shouldn't investigate,
because I was worried about you,
and now I say you should write a book.
It's just...
Harry couldn't have done those things.
You have to tell people he's not some kind of monster.
You still love him, don't you?
Sorry, I...
I think I could have made him happy.
But we don't always get the lives we want, do we?
I dreamed of being a movie star,
but all I am is queen of the French fries.
But did you ever suspect back then
that Harry and Nola could have been...
Never.
She was 15!
The pastor's daughter.
It was unthinkable.
Okay.
Uh, if you don't mind me asking,
was there ever anything between you and Harry?
Not really.
Yeah, we went out a few times.
He was very popular with the women here.
I mean, a celebrity from New York
turning up in a place like this...
Uh-huh.
You, um...
you know that when he came here,
he was actually nobody, right?
Yeah, he was a high school teacher.
He spent all his savings
to rent that house at Goose Cove,
come up here, try and make it as a writer.
I had no idea.
Yeah, when he moved here, he'd written one novel,
"The Mirror of Life,"
but I mean, God, it wasn't successful.
No, Harry wasn't famous until "The Origin of Evil,"
which he wrote, obviously, after he came here.
Good old Harry!
It was lovely,
but I was living in a dream.
If only I knew then what I know now.
But hey, I have a husband who loves me,
whom I love,
and my burgers are famous
throughout the State.
My life didn't turn out too badly.
No.
No, I don't think it did.
Stay on the case, Marcus.
Hey!
I didn't know where you were.
I'm here now.
Whoa!
It's 2008, man.
That thing went out with the iPod.
Sergeant Gahalowood,
to what do I owe the honor of this visit?
Well, I, um,
I received a call from Chief Dawn
about a fire Friday evening?
Yeah.
Yeah, he's worried.
I have to admit he might have a point.
Well, that's sweet.
You're worried about me?
No.
No, not me.
He is.
I'm just here to make sure
this thing doesn't degenerate any further.
Uh-huh.
Why didn't you tell me
you'd received an anonymous letter?
Because you threw me out of your office,
remember?
Want a beer?
Yeah, man.
Let's go have a beer, come on.
So how's your investigation going?
Oh, my investigation?
So now you're interested.
Well, let's just say
your credibility has skyrocketed
since someone started threatening you.
Well, I, uh...
I talked to David Kellergan.
He, um, showed me Nola's bedroom.
I imagine you've seen it too.
Yup.
Okay.
If Nola was running away,
how do you explain the fact
she didn't take anything with her?
Because she wasn't running away.
Well, okay, if she was kidnapped,
then why weren't there any signs of forced entry?
And why would she take that bag
containing the manuscript?
Because maybe she knew her murderer.
Maybe they were even having an affair.
He appears at her window,
as he sometimes did,
persuades her to go with him,
maybe just for a walk--
So that's your theory?
Uh-huh.
Quebert kills the girl,
buries the manuscript with the body.
Maybe 'cause he was feeling remorse.
I don't know,
it was a book about their love,
and their love had killed her.
I still think it's bullshit.
You know, I know Harry.
I know Harry, and-and I don't--
There's an inscription on the manuscript.
An inscription? What does it say?
Now, that I can't tell you.
That's confidential.
Don't... Don't fuck with me, Sergeant.
You can't hide behind confidentiality
whenever it suits you.
It says, "Goodbye, darling Nola."
: I knew it was wrong
to feel the way I felt.
I had to end it, somehow,
before things went too far.
: How did you?
: That was the day
I decided to distance myself from Nola for good.
I needed to find somebody
that the world wouldn't condemn me for loving.
Someone I wouldn't condemn myself for loving...
: "In the Spring of 2008,
shortly after my first book, "G for Goldstein,"
became a national bestseller,
I discovered that my college professor,
Harry Quebert,
one of the most respected writers in the country
and my esteemed mentor,
had been involved with a 15-year-old girl
when he was 34.
It was the summer of 1975.
: A grand jury today has determined
there is sufficient evidence
to try novelist Harry Quebert on charges of kidnapping
and two counts of murder...
...Deborah Cooper,
whose body was found in her house
on August 30th, 1975,
and 15-year-old--
Uh, look at it this way,
I mean, if he weren't indicted,
we wouldn't have access to his file.
Mm-hm.
Oh, shit, this isn't good.
Could you please stop saying that?
Shit...
Just-- -Yeah, sorry.
No, you're his lawyer, man.
You're supposed to look at his file,
and you're supposed to be encouraged.
Uh, well, uh...
these are statements from the gardeners
who found her remains,
from Harry...
And this one,
from Tamara Quinn...
claiming that she had concrete evidence
that Harry was infatuated with Nola,
but, uh, when it disappeared, no one believed her.
Is that credible testimony?
With a jury?
Yeah.
We don't have anything to counter it.
Jesus Christ, is there anything in this file
that doesn't condemn him?
Well...
Maybe this.
Once we get the handwriting analysis back,
the prosecution's whole case could crumble
like a house of cards.
With a little luck,
we might not even have to go to trial.
Yeah, but I mean, even if it is,
if this is authenticated as Harry's,
like, even if he did write this,
that doesn't mean he killed her, right?
What the fuck are you talking about?
She wanted you to call her "Darling Nola"?
Yes?
No?
Yes or no?
Yes.
Crime scene photo.
Can you read
what is on the first page
of this goddamn manuscript?
When were you planning on telling me,
for fuck's sake?
I can assure you,
this is not my writing.
Goddamned coincidences are fucking bad, Harry,
okay?
I'm not gonna lie to you, I mean,
the two of you running away together, the note--
I didn't kill Nola.
How many times do I have to tell you?
I didn't kill Nola.
I'm not a... a pervert.
I never touched her.
Ever.
We're talking about a 15-year-old girl.
You feel the same way?
We've been friends for 10 years, Harry,
you never mentioned any of this.
Look, if you didn't write this,
then who the fuck did?
I don't know, I didn't tell her.
Who else... who else knew
about you and Nola?
Did Tamara Quinn know?
Possibly, I don't know.
Maybe Nola did... Maybe Nola told
some of her friends at school.
Maybe her best friend, Nancy?
I can't defend you if you hide things from me.
I'm not hiding anything from you!
: Sir, shh!
Shortly after Nola disappeared,
I started receiving these anonymous letters,
and then they stopped
about four or five months after that.
I don't know why they stopped, but they stopped.
It didn't cross your mind to tell me this--
: Jesus!
--even when I started receiving anonymous letters?
I-I didn't-- Look, I am not--
I don't have any idea what's going on anymore.
Did you keep them?
Yes, of course I kept them.
You know, I don't know where you get the idea
that this is being forthcoming with your attorney,
but it isn't.
Don't turn this around on me.
Why am I still sitting in here?
Why didn't you tell us about the notes?
You don't think that's important?
He just told us about the notes.
He just told us about the notes, okay?
Let's focus on that.
They're at Goose Cove?
Yes.
In my office, in the encyclopedia.
I'll find them. I'll find 'em.
All right.
You have to believe me.
All right.
They're burning my books.
They're vilifying me.
I'm not this person.
Okay.
Montburry High School yearbook...
1975.
Nola's class.
There.
That's it, "Nancy Hattaway."
That's it.
Nancy Hattaway is the one that Harry mentioned.
: Nancy Hattaway runs a clothing and quilt shop
on Shore Road,
just south of town.
-Hello. -Hi.
Can I help you?
Are you Nancy Hattaway?
My name is Marcus Goldman--
The writer. I've seen your picture.
Yeah.
You're friends with Harry Quebert.
Yes.
I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.
I'm under the impression
that you and Nola Kellergan were good friends
back when you were in school together.
We were friends
ever since she arrived in Sommerdale.
We lived almost next door to each other
on Terrace Avenue.
She spent a lot of time at our house.
She said she liked to come because I had a normal family.
"Normal," what do you mean?
I assume you've met her father?
Yes.
He's a very strict man.
Uh-huh.
He'd been recruited
from his parish in Alabama
to revitalize the congregation here at St. James,
which he did,
big time.
He was quite the fiery orator.
People were inspired by him.
But...?
But Nola's home life
was not a happy one,
despite all outward appearances...
I'll cover you while you change,
and then you cover me, okay?
Okay, but do not look.
I'm self-conscious about my body.
That's silly, you have a beautiful body.
Okay, here--
No, I got it!
Nola...
Nola, are those bruises?
No--
Nola, is somebody beating you?
They're-- They're nothing.
I... I fell the other day
on my bicycle.
Nola, you can tell me, it's okay.
It's my mom.
She hit me when I got back from Bar Harbor on Saturday.
What?
Your mom?
She says I'm a wicked girl.
That's crazy.
What are you talking about?
She wanted to teach me a lesson,
and she's right.
I am a wicked girl.
I lied to her about where I was,
who I was with.
I think you should talk to someone about this, Nola.
Like the school nurse or something.
-No, I deserve it. -No--
-I deserve it!
It's nothing.
Here, I'll--
No, just do not touch me, okay?
Just... I just want to put this back on,
and you can still go in the water, all right?
Okay.
: So you knew she was seeing someone?
Well, she dropped hints about him.
I knew he was an older man.
Did you know it was Harry Quebert?
My God, no.
I found out about Harry on TV, like everybody else.
But Nola did tell me about an older man
she was involved with that summer.
He used to send his creepy chauffeur
to pick her up.
Do you remember his name?
There's no way I'd ever forget it.
He's one of the richest men in Maine.