LAKE OF THE DEAD
"Beware of the currents of the lake. It's dangerous to dream. Stay awake.
The nix pretends to be asleep. Above him lilies gently sweep."
- Yes. It's good. - I don't know...
You don't know? You can't deny it's good.
"Beware of the currents of the lake."
It's a brilliant catchphrase.
You think I have to quote Ibsen for it?
It doesn't seem very modest to use Ibsen in a detective novel.
It's not just a detective novel.
And I'm not modest.
I'm going to write a little foreword. Listen.
"Some people will probably claim that I, Bernhard Borge, -
- ought to know my own limitations and not dabble in occult matters."
Are you pre-empting criticism?
What a tactless comment, Sonja.
"If anyone finds the story improbable..."
And who wouldn't?
What do you want me to do? State that I was sane all the time?
- You can't prove it. - Thank you.
Maybe I could use Oscar Wilde.
In "The Picture of Dorian Gray", Lord Henry says:
"I can believe anything, provided that it is quite incredible."
- Fine. - All right. Now I'll read it.
From the beginning.
August 19 at 15.30. It began just like a real story has to begin.
A beautiful summer day, a group of friends travelling.
The group on the train that day was heterogeneous and argued a lot.
In other words, we were friends for life.
- All six of you? - Yes. One adult and five children.
- Do we have to change in Hamar? - No.
Good. He's only got one pair of knickerbockers.
- Sorry. - Put that in my pocket, please.
- Yes, Doctor. - Not much space here.
- Let's hope the cabin's comfortable. - I hope so, too.
- You haven't been there? - Her brother just bought it.
- No one knows where we're going? - The constable is waiting for us.
Don't you worry. He's an old friend of mine.
I called him and he promised to take us up there.
You've got friends in the police? That explains your interest in crime.
You must agree with me that nothing beats a good, juicy murder case.
- Aren't you afraid of your fiancé? - You've got a point.
Why is the constable meeting us when your brother lives there?
Bjørn has been there for weeks training his dog.
I wrote that we're coming. Twice.
But he hasn't answered me. It's strange.
- It's not strange. - She's nuts about her brother.
I know it's stupid, but the cabin's so isolated...
- And then there's the old legend. - That sounds interesting.
Something about an old murder case -
- and an undertow in the lake.
- I don't know... - Undertow? Sounds even better.
I agree. Maybe a subject for a novel?
Let's hope not. Think of all the woods being killed to print books.
- The writers have to make a living. - Not at all.
- You're a writer yourself. - I'm a critic.
- I write to make others stop. - And make you unemployed as well?
What a childish comment.
Mørk wrote poems about death in his youth. Now he'll avenge life.
Please don't psychoanalyse me, Doctor. Save it for your patients.
Sorry.
But do you think anything has happened to Bjørn?
Yes. I don't know what.
Even as children we could always sense if our sibling was in trouble.
- Well, you are twins. - I'll tell you a recent story.
- Come and see my latest painting. - I'm afraid I don't have the time.
I'm very much in doubt. I need to know your opinion.
Then I'll come by tonight at seven.
- Seven o'clock? Exactly? - Exactly.
- Hi. Remember our date tonight? - I haven't forgotten.
I tried calling you. I can't make it tonight.
- I'm afraid it's impossible. - Your brother's hopeless.
- Then drive me into town. - With pleasure.
- Bye bye. - Bye.
- Bjørn! - Don't worry. It's not serious.
- I was so worried. - I'm sorry I scared you.
- Does it hurt? - No, it's just a scratch.
The car looks much worse.
A big bus suddenly pulled out. I thought it was going to crush me.
A bus?
I've had the same anxious feeling the last couple of days.
An inexplicable notion that Bjørn's in danger.
Is that it? It's enormous.
Like the house of the witch without the pancake roof.
- And there's no light. - Speaking of pancakes... Let's go.
Come on, old girl. Go to the stove.
Hello! Hello, Bjørn. It's us!
- There's nobody here. - Knock on the door.
Hello? There's no one here. Let's set up our tents.
The door's open.
- Hello? - Go on in.
- It's so dark. - I'm right behind you.
What if he's not here? What if something's happened to him?
- Maybe he's lying in the wood. - We've no reason to believe so.
I talked with him a few days ago and he was fine.
And Bjørn knows the wood. He probably just walked too far.
And then slept in one of the old wood shacks.
If he's not back tonight, we'll look for him tomorrow.
- Moo! - It's not bad.
Are you hungry? I found the kitchen and a cosy little room for us.
- It's really nice here. - Only needs a little tidying up.
It's a palace.
There have been additions over the years. And now Werner's done it up.
It's really cosy.
"Inferno" by Strindberg. Now, that's not cosy.
Has Sherlock Holmes found any clues?
The mutt and the shotgun's missing. So he must be out hunting.
Lillian gets the small room, maybe you and Bugge can take the big one.
- What about you, constable? - I'm going to the village tonight.
- But you'll eat with us? - Yes, thank you.
Do you know some old legend about an undertow?
- I sure do. - You must tell us after dinner.
- Now the fire's fine. - It's warm enough in here.
A fireplace without a fire is like...
You without me?
Tell us your ghost story, Bråten. Even though it's not yet midnight.
Let's hear it.
This cabin was built 100 years ago by an odd, timid man -
- by the name Tore Gråvik.
He only tolerated one person, his sister.
Well, more than tolerated...
- Aha. - Aha?
Sorry.
One day the sister eloped with a charming farmhand.
They were careless enough to sleep here and were surprised by Tore.
- What a shame. - Worse than that.
The brother went crazy with rage and attacked the two with an axe.
- The sister, too? - Yes.
Then he made the two disappear in a lake called the blue lake.
But the strain was too great for him. Three days later he joined them.
And now we get to the legend.
According to local superstition, Tore Gråvik haunts the place.
Don't call it superstition. Farmers know more about this than professors.
Sorry. I meant to say that Gråvik haunts in an unconventional manner.
- He appears inside of people. - What do you mean?
They say that everyone in this cabin will be possessed -
- by Gråvik's evil spirit.
He'll come to them at night -
- like a terrible clutch at their soul.
And pull them down with him in the lake.
- I won't listen to anymore. - I agree with Lillian.
Had I known about this, a hundred wild horses couldn't drag me here.
- Who's got the train timetable? - Quiet. Where's this lake?
Nearby. We can go take a look.
- Yes! - No!
There is something special about this lake.
It's true that a number of people have drowned there.
I handled one of the cases.
But the lake is said to be bottomless. Nobody's ever been found.
I don't know... I'm not thrilled about going into the wood at night.
You could use a walk in the moonlight to add a little romance.
Romance? What about my blisters? Where did this come from?
- Oh, it's Bugge's. - What is?
The notebook. I must have put it in the wrong pocket on the train.
- How odd. - What?
- This note. Listen to this. - Don't read other people's papers.
"Analysis of dream, August 10:
I dream that I'm floating in a lake.
My body's shining white in the moonlight.
Slowly I enter the shadow of a spruce.
It feels like my body is withering and blackening.
Suddenly I notice..."
- We'd better stop now. - Bernhard.
It's at your request, then.
"Suddenly I notice a big, furry creature on the bank.
I'm frozen with fear, as if hypnotized.
The creature attacks me and drags me into the abyss.
I sink, I sink."
The lake? How strange.
- What was the date? - August 10.
- More than a week ago. - Is there a name?
- Don't you have any manners? - Who's...
- You, too. - Whose dream is it? Why analyze it?
If you'd been a man of general education, -
- you'd know interpretation of dreams is used in psychoanalysis.
The patient's associations can reveal hidden complexes, -
- so-called repressed emotions.
- Do you understand? - No. But it's very interesting.
- About time. - Sonja's on her way.
- What wonderful moonlight. - And so warm.
- On August 20. - Stifling's more like it.
It's not hard to understand how a legend would thrive here.
It's proven to be enduring.
So-called trustworthy people keep finding traces of Gråvik.
- What kind of traces? - Footprints.
Gråvik had lost his left foot and walked with a wooden leg.
- He leaves a clear trail. - Have you seen his trail?
No. I try not to. A constable's not allowed to believe in ghosts.
How do we know the tragedy took place the way you told us?
Gråvik confessed in his diary.
He also describes how he would kill himself.
And the night before August 23, the night of the suicide, -
- lumberjacks heard piercing screams from the lake.
They found evidence that Gråvik had thrown himself in the lake.
- So Gråvik screamed? - Yes.
Each year on the night before August 23, you can hear Gråvik's screams.
It's the night before August 20. We have something to look forward to.
Here it is.
Come on.
It's not as cold as I thought.
Very idyllic. Not at all as scary as I'd imagined.
Well, it is, if you...
What is it, Lillian? Are you feeling ill?
Lillian!
It's nothing. It's just...
- Something's really strange. - What is, my dear?
You'll think I'm stupid, but... I have this feeling...
- What feeling? - A feeling I've been here before.
I recognize this place.
The rotten log in the water there.
The five lilies forming a semicircle.
- But something's changed. - You've seen a similar lake.
I can't tell one lake from another.
Maybe it's déjà vu? When you only imagine you've seen something before.
It's mentioned in my psychology book. Don't remind me. I remember...
Look! Are you an exhibitionist?
I've always dreamed of swimming in an enchanted lake in moonlight.
Don't. You can get a cramp.
- Don't, Sonja. - You'll make me a widower.
- And we've even got a bathtub. - You've got good taste in wives.
She's got many splendid traits that you lack. She's brave.
I've often taken a cold shower. Sometimes.
Bravery and foolhardiness are often mistaken.
And she's good at diving...
Wonderful!
- Nobody's joining her? - Maybe I will. I can't swim.
I'm afraid of the water. Ask Bugge what it's caused by.
Where's Lillian?
- There she is. - Wait.
- Is she looking for something? - We'll see.
- You want to scare me to death? - It's so cold!
Look! It's Spot. Bjørn's dog.
Shot through the head.
And his hat.
- We can't do anything tonight. - No. I'm going straight away.
We need men and tools for a search. And I need to write a report.
- How's Miss Werner? - She's sleeping.
I think she acts strangely about the brother.
- What do you mean "strangely"? - As if none of it had happened.
So she doesn't believe it's suicide?
- I'm not sure... - I can't believe he'd kill himself.
- Why? - I can't answer that.
You knew him better. I can only look at the facts.
All the tracks leading to the lake.
And the final footprint that clearly proves he threw himself in the lake.
Now, wait! "Clearly" you say?
Maybe that's the problem. It all seems so neatly planned.
- What do you mean? - It's almost too obvious.
- It looks like a planned crime. - A crime?
You mean... murder?
Yes.
Hi, Bernhard.
- You can't sleep? - No.
I can't stop thinking.
Well?
- Gran's theory. If it is murder... - Then what?
- Then there's a killer. - Undoubtedly.
- Well, well. - I was also thinking.
I took the liberty of going through Bjørn's papers and I found this.
- A diary. - Tore Gråvik's?
- No. Bjørn Werner's. - No!
An ominous crapped and small hand revealing a man's mental breakdown.
- Do you want to read it? - No, thanks. Not now.
I've made a summary of the most relevant sections. Want to hear it?
Yes.
I imagine this is the key to what we could dramatically label -
- "the mystery of the blue lake".
All right. If you promise to sit by my bed until I fall asleep.
Okay, you can read it.
I begin August 7 when he writes:
"Reading 'Inferno'.
Strindberg's fight with the evil forces get on my nerves.
It's tearing me apart."
Then he begins thinking of the Gråvik legend spending hours at the lake.
"You get the feeling that there are violent currents deep down.
Tempting undertows that could pull you ahead of your conscience.
Tempt you to take one blissful jump into the horrible."
Like standing at a diver's rock.
"August 8. Down at the lake. A strange unrest has taken hold of me.
It followed me all the way and got stronger on the way home.
When I walked in, it struck me that someone had been here.
But who or what? The room gave me the shivers.
On the table there was a feather. A crow's feather.
"Dream the night before August 10."
"The night before August 16: Going to the lake again.
It's like doing a great experiment with secret, unknown forces -
- beyond life and death.
Touching a mighty veil. A veil hiding the last, big mystery.
No. No. No!
- No! No! - Are you losing your mind?
Who was that screaming? Who's coming?
Bernhard!
Oh, it's only you. I thought...
- I thought... - I think you nodded off.
Maybe I did.
I'd better repeat the last paragraph...
No, I've heard more than enough.
You've heard the worst part. Let's see...
Wait. This dream or whatever. The lake and the lilies.
It all seemed so familiar, as if...
So Werner's your patient? It was his dream I found in your notebook.
Let's continue. There are only a few words left.
"He's standing in the door, his arm raised, pointing to the lake.
I can't resist it. I have to go there.
I must know what happens when darkness falls upon me.
I have to go. I have to jump in.
I'm coming."
Let's go out in the sun.
Poor Lillian. To get this grotesque diary account on top of it all.
I don't think Bjørn has written the last part.
The handwriting changes.
- And some pages are missing. - You still believe it's murder?
They copied the hand well, but not perfectly.
I can't believe it's simply a banal murder.
But it's not suicide, either.
- What do you think, then? - Let's view the facts.
- The tracks show Bjørn jumped in. - Suicide.
He left a detailed account of what happened.
What if someone falsified the diary to make it look like suicide -
- and fit in with the old Gråvik legend?
Why should it fit in with the legend? The police don't believe in ghosts.
Why not accept Werner's explanation? He was haunted by an evil spirit.
- Science doesn't believe in goblins. - And you call that science...
- I don't see the crow anywhere. - It's just a horror effect.
I don't think so. I believe the diary's real. The details confirm it.
An invincible, immortal crow with one leg. A symbol of Gråvik.
- The occult? - Not at all.
Think of a fever delirium. Can you tell hallucinations from the truth?
- You think he was mentally ill? - How can you doubt it?
Come on!
- Well? - Nothing.
Have you found anything we missed last night?
Nothing.
I suggest we split into two teams and make a little inspection.
- You're talking about your killer. - I am. You're not interested?
I am. Someone who falsifies diaries, makes false footprints -
- and disappears into thin air. I'd like to see that.
I can't believe that anyone could kill a harmless bloke like Werner.
You can't? Bjørn wasn't harmless. Parts of his personality were...
...rather abominable.
- Which parts? - He was...
No, you shouldn't badmouth the dead.
- You didn't like him? - No. I didn't.
I hate cobwebs.
It's like breaking into an Egyptian burial chamber.
Beware of the revenge of the Pharaohs. Well?
Someone's been here just recently. This saw was used a few days ago.
Impressive, Sherlock Holmes. Someone has made weapons here.
- A cub? - Why not? It's plausible.
It must be the others.
- No. I can't see anyone. - Come here!
Look at this. Tread carefully.
Blimey!
May I present... Tore Gråvik?
Lillian?
Lillian!
- What is it, Bernhard? - I don't know. Lillian...
My dressing gown.
Lillian!
Something's up with Lillian. I don't know what it is.
Lillian!
- Lillian! Wake up. - Someone's calling me.
Lillian!
Someone called me. Where am I?
You were sleepwalking, Lillian. Don't worry.
Let's go back to the cabin. Come on.
Take this.
- Good night. - Good night, Lillian.
The lake. For the second time.
- It's getting warmer. - Don't make a big deal out of it.
Many people are sleepwalkers. Some snore. Lillian sleepwalks.
Sleepwalkers don't try to commit suicide. Lillian wanted to jump in.
It's not that strange. In Oslo, she once laid down in a full bathtub.
She woke up as soon as the water got in her nose.
She didn't want to drown herself. And she swims like a fish.
Amusing to hear such a sensible account. Everything can be explained.
Some problems can't be solved by a multiplication table.
Lillian wants to throw herself in the lake. And you call it sleepwalking.
Using a bathtub as proof! You don't understand a thing.
Don't you see Lillian is a medium? You want two plus two to be four.
But two plus two can have any kind of result.
As long as it's not four!
Bravo, Mørk. You're a spot on modern day Don Quixote.
You fight windmills in a way that compels admiration.
And for once, I almost agree.
You agree? Then my wording must've been wrong.
I agree that Lillian's sleepwalking isn't an explanation.
It's no coincidence she walks to the lake. I even believe she's a medium.
- Do you believe in goblins now? - Not for the moment.
Don't be so glib. Let's agree to trust in the multiplication table.
- Good morning. - Good day.
If I spend much more time here, I'll turn into a B-person.
What am I sitting here for?
I have something that I can't remember -
- that I have to remember I have to do.
Out there.
- Good morning. - Good morning. Sleepyhead.
Heroes also need sleep. Where is everyone?
Mørk must be out luring wood nymphs. I haven't seen Harald all day.
He's out following the track. Bugge's inside on his stamping ground.
- Lillian's a sweet girl. - And newly engaged.
Maybe I'm old-fashioned.
I haven't just been sleeping. I've also been thinking.
There's something about this place ...I don't know what it is.
What has happened doesn't have a natural explanation.
I can't find it, anyway.
- The others all have their theories. - They do...
Bråten thinks Bjørn killed himself. But Lillian doesn't think so.
It's only natural that she doesn't want to believe it.
Harald thinks it's murder. And Mørk thinks he was possessed by a...
But what does Bugge believe?
He believes in the multiplication table.
No. No. I can't stand it. I don't want to go on.
No! I told you I will not go on!
I'm sorry I drove you out from the living room this morning.
I had a thought last night when Lillian was sleepwalking.
It only made sense afterwards.
She seemed so strong-willed, determined, -
- but I got the impression that it wasn't her own will.
I think she was hypnotized.
You're not stupid. I'm sure you're right.
Isn't it peculiar given the presence of a professional hypnotist?
Namely you.
You suspect me? Your old friend?
- Have you ever heard of magic? - Of course I have. Superstition.
Far from it. Magic is closely related to hypnosis.
You may call it a kind of long distance hypnosis.
So someone somewhere is casting out...
...a net for Lillian?
She's in danger now.
That's pure mumbo-jumbo. Don't tell me you believe in that?
- Not only do I believe in it... - Who should?
What you don't know won't hurt you.
I don't like thunder. I find it... creepy.
Creepiness. There's something peculiar about it.
In India, people see dead people every day and it doesn't scare them.
And why? Because they have a different spiritual culture.
We think we know the full truth, but in reality we don't know a thing.
Mentally, we're like children, like bushmen.
We're only good at making technical toys -
- that ought to be for children.
Our helplessness is revealed in our dread of the spirits, of ghosts.
- Galilei's judges... - Stop it, Harald!
- With what? - Stop pacing the floor.
I didn't give it a thought. I'm sorry.
Galilei's judges wouldn't look in his telescope. And why?
Their world view would have collapsed.
Their foundation would explode.
It might have turned them crazy. They found it creepy.
For the same reasons, modern man is afraid of seeing demons and ghosts.
If he sees one, his world will explode.
It struck nearby.
I can't see anything.
One more of those and we won't need to fear old age.
- It's raining cats and dogs. - Our window is open.
- Is it a big deal? - Hurry. And put the kettle on.
- Bring some more crackers. - And beer.
What's this? A conspiracy?
Bernhard!
There's someone in our room. We need light. Hurry.
Go on in.
There's nobody here now.
Thinking of Bernhard's love of beer...
I only had half a lager.
- Look at that. - Aha. Our occult friend.
- He's moving closer. - Yes! That's it.
Bråten told us Gråvik lost his left foot. But here the right is missing.
- Maybe he remembered incorrectly. - Or the killer did.
The tracks correspond with the account in the forged diary.
I'm starting to understand it all.
Will you let us in on your secret? Or will you, too, be secretive?
I don't know. I'm not sure.
What do you mean "you, too"?
It's just that... There has to be something.
- You're not bleeding anymore. - Yes, a little.
Are you going to let me float around without knowing a thing?
I'll write a novel about this if I survive. And I won't spare you.
Off with your heads. Your head, too, Prince of Darkness.
It's getting dangerous. Don't you see the forces we're dealing with?
- I suggest we go back into town. - No way. Not now.
- Do you think it's a parlour game? - Of course we stay.
I warn you.
When the uninitiated play with such forces they get punished.
Checkmate in your next move.
- I'll go to bed, then. - Let's hope for a quiet night.
There's hope until you're 70, said the virgin. Later there's just hope.
- Good night. - Sweet dreams.
Say hi to the mysterious Gran.
Forgive him for going his own way.
Bernhard! You're saying something! Why didn't I think of that?
Gran! He's gone. Hurry up and fetch the torch.
- Why do you think he's at the lake? - Save your breath.
There!
Gran! Gran!
It's life or death!
Look! Something's shining down there.
- It's his torch. - Point it here.
We found him only two minutes after he fell, but he was dead.
It doesn't sound like your typical drowning accident.
Could he have been killed?
There's no evidence of a struggle.
So he threw himself in the lake of his own free will?
Yes.
But Harald couldn't swim.
Maybe he stumbled. Fell in the water and got a cramp.
- People have died of fear before. - Died of fear?
Even a trained swimmer can panic when his head is suddenly under water.
It's a possibility. An autopsy could tell us more.
That's not necessary.
Tell me, Bråten. Is it possible for you to stay here tonight?
- You think something will happen? - Yes.
We have to carry him away. I only have two men.
- But Mørk offered his help... - He did?
Then it's settled.
I'll see them on their way, getting over the humps.
- Would you be so kind as to help us? - Of course.
Bernhard...
- How's Lillian? - She's asleep now.
- Bugge talked to her a long time. - How is she coping?
I don't understand her. It's as if it goes right over her.
- What do you mean? - As if Bugge has...
I'll go in the kitchen.
Do you really think something will happen?
I think the riddle will be solved tonight.
The night before August 23.
Don't you remember the legend? Tonight we'll hear Gråvik's cries.
I got a little wet. Mørk isn't back yet?
No.
Is it Werner's diary? Scary reading.
- What's going to happen tonight? - I've discussed the plan with Bugge.
I see...
You can't expect me to like it.
- Am I interrupting? - Not at all.
- Then it's settled. - Come in the living room afterwards.
- What was your tête-à-tête? - It was nothing.
- You seem nervous. - Not at all.
- What are you all up to? - Nothing.
- I'm glad you came. Just a minute. - I'll take a look for Mørk.
- There are a few minutes left. - Well?
I consider the mystery surrounding Werner's disappearance to be solved.
You solved the mystery? How?
- By using this one. And Lillian. - Lillian?
Remember the story she told on the train about her and her brother?
- The one with the car crash? - Yes, and how she felt the danger.
Isn't telepathy common between people who are very close?
Even more so when they love each other.
Bjørn Werner loved his sister passionately.
- Loved? You mean... - Yes. I'm afraid so.
And Bjørn got ill. "What I love and cannot own, nobody else can touch."
When Gran was engaged to Lillian, it was a catastrophe.
Bjørn moved up here and was possessed.
He became obsessed with the Gråvik legend because it's his own story.
Yes, they were brother and sister.
In the diary, he mentions evil forces.
But he fell victim to his own sick imagination.
You remember the dream? The lillies in the lake?
Bjørn and Lillian had that same dream with slight variations.
- It was Lillian's dream you read. - So Lillian's your patient?
She's been suffering from a fixation of her brother.
- How can the dream solve the case? - Dreams are like riddles.
The lilies in the lake are symbols of Lillian.
- And the log that smudged her... - Gran means "spruce"! Harald Gran.
And the furry creature who saved her and took her down was Bjørn.
The dream was a telepathic signal from brother to sister.
He started calling her. His plan was to drag her down to him in the lake.
- Why didn't he succeed? - His story goes like the legend.
Symbolically, you could say that Tore Gråvik crept into him -
- and pulled him under.
- Well, Bråten? - No. And it's soon midnight.
- It doesn't look as if he's coming. - Strange.
We have to stick to the plan anyway.
- I think so. - Are you ready, Bernhard?
- Ready? For what? - Meeting Gråvik at the lake.
- We're going there now? - Yes. You're not scared, are you?
Scared?
- What about Bråten? - He stays here keeping watch.
Listen closely now. Whatever happens, however crazy it looks, -
- you must promise me to keep quiet.
If something doesn't go according to plan, I'll act right away.
Why do you say this?
I know I'll put you to a test.
- I see. - No.
- Aren't we going to the lake? - We're taking the long way round.
It's fine here. Come on.
Down.
Wait.
- How long... - Shh!
Remember your promise. Not a sound.
Lillian...
- You're not going to... - Be quiet.
But...
We have to catch him. Come on!
Bjørn Werner!
We have to find him.
Come on, Bernhard.
We can't do a thing. It's no use. I'll tell you why later.
Then you'll understand. Come on.
Well?
- A shame you didn't come sooner. - You didn't catch him?
- But maybe it's for the best. - How can you say that?
Forgive me, Bernhard. He'd never be human again.
- But Lillian... - Lillian's asleep.
She is? So it was you who...
- Yes. - Sit down by the fireplace, my dear.
- Why put her through this? - There was no other way.
- And Sonja's a brilliant diver. - Bråten was looking after me.
- Perhaps you'll explain it all now. - Yes, of course.
The first time Wernerjumped in, he swam for a while and got up again.
Then he hid in the wood and waited.
- Waited for Lillian? - He hoped she'd bring Gran.
He identified himself completely with Gråvik.
He'd rather see Lillian dead than in the hands of another.
He wanted to kill her lover.
So it was his will that drove Lillian to sleepwalk?
When you sleep, the telepathic contact is stronger.
She was a helpless medium.
But what about Harald Gran? He also discovered it was Werner?
I think he had a hunch.
Remember the saw he found in the shack?
Werner put a dowel under his shoe, but on the wrong leg.
Gran discovered this. He wanted to trace his track while it was wet.
But Werner knew that Gran couldn't swim.
- How could you predict all this? - Remember Lillian's my patient.
As her psychiatrist, I had an unusual weapon against him.
By reading her dreams, I got access to his plans.
But that's... amazing.
Is it really? Amazing?
It's a psychological explanation, -
- but it's only one part of the equation. We're obviously facing...
Yes. You still haven't understood that man is surrounded by darkness?
Stop all your superstitious nonsense. There's no such thing as...
God almighty. Where did this come from?
A crow's feather.
English subtitles: Malene Hollnagel Scandinavian Text Service 2009