It's true.
I'm nervous.
Very, very dreadfully nervous.
I have been and I am.
But... why would you say that I'm crazy?
The disease sharpened my senses.
It didn't destroy or dull them.
Above all...
my sense of hearing became acute.
I heard everything in Heaven and on Earth.
I heard many things in hell.
How then,
could I be crazy?
Harken! And observe how sanely,
how calmly...
I can tell you the whole story.
I feel like this is all getting out of control.
Darío, Leonardo, me, everything.
He can't be a killer.
What if he is?
What if Esteban is right?
What if I caused Brenda's murder?
I don't understand.
Calm down, Alma.
Put your thoughts in order.
This is all my fault.
I shouldn't have listened to Esteban and let him meet Darío in that motel.
What are you talking about? What motel?
I feel like my head is going to explode.
I shouldn't have played this game.
I don't know what's true, what's a lie, or who's the villain of the movie.
If anything happens to him?
To whom? Darío or your brother-in-law?
What if Darío is not a killer?
What if Darío didn't hurt Brenda?
-What if the story repeats itself? -Let's see.
Alma, calm down for a second because I'm not following you.
Let me try and sort out everything you have told me, okay?
From what I can see,
there are two choices at the moment, right?
The first one: Your brother-in-law is a police officer, after all.
And he sees crimes everywhere.
Maybe he's transferring his persecution complex onto you.
And you're creating this crime story in your head.
But maybe the answer is simpler than that.
And the second?
The second one is: Instead of talking to me about this,
you should talk to the police.
DONE
Alma?
No, honey. I'm not in the mood.
Forgive me, I was really tense.
I understand.
Alma?
Leo.
Alma, are you okay?
Yes.
Yes, just a minute.
I'll see you back in there.
Do you want me to see him at a cheap motel?
What are you doing?
You want to fix this, yes or no?
I just want him away from me and to leave me alone.
After this, he won't bother you or Leonardo again.
Esteban, don't do anything crazy.
Please.
Trust me.
He's not answering.
I called him to tell him the good news, but...
What?
What are you talking about?
Darío Guerra, your wife's student.
You asked me to call him and tell him he was hired.
Oh, yes.
Yes, of course. What did he say?
Did you not hear me, Leonardo?
I called him several times, he didn't answer.
His cellphone is off or out of the service area.
I understand. Okay, try again tomorrow.
Let's call it a day, okay?
Come on.
Edith.
I actually want to ask you something.
How can you tell if a woman is cheating on you?
Oh, no, Leonardo. Again with that?
Yes.
Are you okay?
What did the message say?
I'm out of time. I have to go.
Alma, what are you going to do?
Try to calm down, please.
I don't know. I don't want you...
-to... -What?
Get in a tub and cut my wrists? No, I won't.
No, I wasn't thinking about that.
But now that you mention it...
I have to ask.
Have you ever thought about it?
-The 50 minutes are up. -Yes, I know. Please...
Consider talking to the police.
Maybe that's the only answer.
-Cheers. -Cheers.
Lately, when Alma and I make love...
I sense she feels guilty, nervous, you know.
What's more...
it's like I can hear her heart beating fast.
Like she's hiding something and...
At some point, she'll have to confess.
Like in the Tell-Tale Heart.
-What? -The Edgar Allan Poe story.
-Have you read it? -No.
I don't get what that's got to do with what I'm telling you.
Well, you reminded me of it.
It's about a man who kills an old man.
And hides his body under the planks of the floor.
The police can't find a trace of the crime.
But the killer gives himself away because he can't stand
listening to the victim's heart beating.
But the killer was imagining the heartbeats.
Tormenting him, driving him mad.
Well, I never liked linguistic metaphors.
What I want to ask you is...
Do you think Alma is cheating on me?
I think you're making up stories that don't exist.
In any case, if...
Alma's heart beats so loud when you're making love to her
it's because she adores you.
It weighs less than a pound.
It's slightly larger than a fist.
It beats more than a thousand times per day,
pumping more than 1,32 gallons per minute
for an average of 70 years.
It's the human heart.
It's a hollow muscular organ
that works as a suction pump
and propellant that pushes the blood through the veins
and distributes it to the entire body.
It weighs between 0,55 to 0,66 pounds in women.
I think you're a very nice girl.
Would you like to go for coffee?
Or maybe you could invite me to go to the movies.
I have your number, remember?
I'll call you.
ANIMUS...
Zoe.
Leonardo.
ALMA CALLING
...after the beep.
Esteban, answer me.
Don't leave me like this. I need to talk to you.
No, don't call me.
I don't want Leonardo to suspect, I'll call you later.
Zoe?
Did you think you'd get away with it, asshole?
-That it would be easy? -No.
No...
No!
Don't mess with Alma again.
No.
Lucinda. Lucinda, what's wrong?
-Are you okay? -My son Darío.
-Do you want me to call him? -He's dead.
He is...
You don't have a fever.
-I'm sure it was just a nightmare. -No, I saw him.
He was dead.
Let's do something to calm you down, okay?
Darío, my son, please forgive me.
I'll call Darío so you can talk to him.
Calm down.
What's with that?
EXTRAORDINARY TALES
What the fuck? Since when do you read Poe?
Sometimes we do things...
that we haven't done before.
Did I miss something or--?
What's with you?
It's nothing. Right, Leonardo?
"Villains.
Dissemble no more. I admit the deed!
Tear up the planks!
Here, here!
It is the beating of his hideous heart."
-What's that all about? -Come on.
I love that story.
It's about a murderer
who gives himself away because he hears the sound
of his victim's heartbeat.
-It's really cool. -I think...
the story says that the heart is at the center
of everything that's true,
and it gives us away.
The truth always comes out.
Even if it's buried deep.
I'll get some bread. Does anyone want anything?
No.
I didn't see it that way.
Have you spoken to Esteban?
You scared me, Leonardo.
Can I help?
I asked...
if you'd spoken to Esteban.
No. Why?
No reason.
I tried to reach him with no luck.
That's all.
Thank you.
Shall we?
Leo?
Why did you do this to me, Esteban?
Is Leonardo home?
He's upstairs, sleeping.
Why did you make me wait this long?
Where's Darío?
What did you do to him?
It's the beating of his hideous heart.
Confess, you bitch.
Don't pretend anymore.
Alma.
Alma?
Alma!
Alma, where are you?
Fuck, Alma. Where are you?
What's wrong, Dad?
Why are you yelling?
Where's your mom?
What? She's not here?
Esteban!
Fuck, Esteban. Open up!
Where the hell is Darío?
Hey! Let's see.
-What happened? Where's Mom? -Damn it!
Dad.
I'm talking to you. Can you please pay attention to me?
Shut up.
Hey, what are you doing? Why are you checking her phone?
-Fuck, I'm trying to find out. -What?
-Hey, don't check her phone. -You mom's cheating on me!
Is that what you wanted to know?
With whom?
Dad!
Fuck, Zoe. Leave me alone.
Please, don't tell him that I was here. I'll call him later.
Pick up, it could be Esteban.
Hello?
Can I speak to Esteban, please?
Who's calling?
This is Esteban's brother.
I need to speak to him urgently.
Hello, magistrate. He's not here right now.
But if you like, I can...
I can ask him to call you later.
Later on.
You must know where he is.
He must've said something.
No, he didn't say anything to me.
What time did he leave?
Did he say when he was coming back?
Magistrate, I really don't know.
The boss comes and goes all the time.
Okay.
Don't tell him I called.
-What did he say? -Same as you.
"Don't tell him I called." What should I do?
Lie to my boss? What if he fires me?
No, he won't. You'll be fine.
Just don't tell him I came by.
Don't tell him he called. Don't tell him anything.
I checked her, she doesn't have a fever.
But she keeps saying her son is dead.
And I'm worried.
You know Lucinda has crises.
Especially now...
that she had such a high fever.
Yes, Mother.
But Darío's not answering his phone.
He usually picks up when we call him.
He's not answering because he's dead.
See, Mother?
No, Lucinda. Don't say that.
Your son is all right.
You've been very sick.
No, I'm not sick. My son is dead.
I drowned him in the tub myself.
Okay, let's start.
Write this down on top:
Cardiology test, semester and full name.
Describe the diagnosis, and initial treatment
of the following cases:
Number one.
This is a 45-year-old female patient
with a previous history of a heart murmur.
She goes to the ER after suffering a heart attack.
She says she had an anxiety attack in the days prior to the event.
Her symptoms were shortness of breath, vomiting, and confusion.
Number two.
A 48-year-old male patient...
comes to the hospital some hours after getting into a fight.
He says he has cardiac pain,
shortness of breath
and tachycardia of 130 beats per minute.
Number three.
A 50-year-old male patient.
He's admitted in critical condition with a knife wound
involving the cardiac organ.
This man has a massive hemorrhage,
blood pressure of 80 over 50.
And he's in shock.
Hey!
POSTGRADUATE SCHOOL
Are killers born?
Or made?
What makes a person become a killer?
Are we victims...
or killers?
Who is innocent and who is guilty?
Sometimes we're just
human beings that, because of the circumstances,
are driven to commit acts
that we never considered possible before.
Darío!
Alma.
I'm sorry I didn't call you before, but...
It's true!
I am nervous.
Dreadfully nervous.
And Alma?
I have been and I am.
But...
Why would you say that I'm crazy?
The disease sharpened my senses.
It did not destroy or dull them.
Above all
my hearing became acute.
I heard everything in Heaven and on Earth.
I heard many things in hell.
He looked you up for a reason.
To fuck with Leonardo.
You promised to talk to him.
-I never said that. -What did you do instead?
You let him fuck you like a bitch.
Let me go!
Darío is the son of that asshole who raped and killed that little girl.
We need to talk about so many things.
I need to tell you about my past.
Okay, just go. Please, I beg you.
How then...
could I be crazy?
Harken! And observe how sanely...
how calmly I can tell you the whole story.
Ten years ago...
I crippled you.
Today...
I'm going to kill you.
Why Alma?
Why my wife, you son of a bitch?