03x07 - Heretic

[bunniefuu]

[theme music playing]

NARRATOR:
Man lives in the sunlit world

of what he believes
to be reality.

But... there is,

unseen by most, an underworld.

A place that is just as real

but not as brightly lit.

A dark side.

Hey?

Put that thing out.

What? Oh.

Sorry, Mr. Harte.

I hope we're not in for
another disappointment, Jimmy.

Not this time.

They found a certified
16th-century monastery,

or brotherhood, or whatever you
call them, under that church.

We got the real
thing here.

Well, it'd better be.

It cost me enough.

You got to expect to pay
when you get in on a setup

as clean as this.

It was beautiful.

We had one of the excavators
under contract.

So, anytime he figures
he's holding a good piece,

he just stashes it away
where he can pick it up

when nobody...
Why are you telling me this?

I figured you'd be interested.

I mean, I...

I'm not interested
in any information

that's gonna send me
to prison, Jimmy.

I'm strictly
a bottom-line type person.

I don't want to know how that
crate got into my living room.

I just want to know
what it's worth.

It's worth plenty.

[car horns honking outside]

[laughs]

Looks like we got
some shoes this time.

Guess they had
some pretty heavy-duty ladies

back in that 16th century,
huh, Mr. Harte?

Do you mind?

Put the garbage
in here.

Okay, okay.

Now we're getting somewhere.

This is a common beggar's bowl.

19th century, at best.

It's worthless, at least
to my kind of clients.

All right.

Then look...

Then look at that, huh?

What is this, a joke?

It's not worth anything?

You know, all this junk
might be a lot of fun,

except I just
plunked down 20 grand

for this cr*cker Jacks box.

I can't seem
to find my free toy.

Now you're gonna have
to give me my money back.

Hey, they told me

this was good stuff.

Can't believe
everything you hear.

Can you, sport?

I can't give you
your money back.

I spent it on this.

An art fence is supposed
to deliver art, Jimmy.

Wait a minute, will you?

We're not finished yet, huh?

So, that's $20,000 up front,

minus postage,

of course.

You owe me
19,854 bucks, pal.

There's something funny
about this crate.

Look.

Huh?

Now look at the floor.

You may be right.

That seems high.

Let's see what we have here.

[knocking on box]

There's a false bottom.

[boards clattering]

And there's something inside.

Any better,
Mr. Harte?

Is it good?

Good?

This might be the most valuable
piece I've ever handled.

So, you like it?

Look at this.

It's even inscribed.

Add another 50%
to the selling price.

Can I see it?

The backing
is very dry.

It's very old.

What is this?

Tempera.

It's excellent.

Faithful observation to detail.

Right down to the bowl
in the beggar's hands.

It's definitely
16th century.

Really know your stuff,
don't you?

It's a primitive,
Jimmy, but valuable.

Wow.

Your friends didn't know
what they were sending.

Then how come
the hiding place?

Who cares?

It's all mine now.

I wish I could read this.

"Ardescit in foco..."

Look, I've got a case of Dom
Pérignon in the refrigerator.

What do you say we celebrate?

You bet.

"Ferrum monibus
tuis propinquum."

Something about a fire.

To money in the bank.

Now,

who do I unload
this little beauty on?

Mr. Gerber's
always game.

I've been thinking, Mr. Harte.

Is that a fact?

Seeing as how
things turned out so...

unexpectedly well,

it doesn't seem fair
to stick to the original terms.

So you're getting greedy, huh?

I'm just trying
to be reasonable.

You can be as reasonable
as you want.

I'm just asking you
to be fair with me.

Why?

Because it's the decent thing
to do.

Because it's...
Look, let me

tell you something
about the art business, okay?

Because I feel for you, Jimmy.

I really do.

It wasn't so long ago

that I was a messenger boy
for an art dealer.

So I understand
what you're trying to pull here.

And I respect it.

But your problem right now is
that you're still a peon...

...trying to cut a deal
with a prince.

I found that stuff for you.

I brought it here.

You were paid.

Three grand?

That's my cut.
That's right.

Because as long
as you're letting other people

deal the cards to you, you're
going to be coming up short.

I was in the exact
same position myself.

Then I caught an art dealer
in a bad spot,

and I didn't let go
of the poor guy

until I had what he had.

You blackmailed somebody?

No. I beat him, Jimmy.

I beat him.

The same way
I'm beating you right now.

As long
as I'm holding the cards,

you don't have a prayer.

We'll just see how much longer

you're holding
those cards, Harte.

What goes around
comes around, pal.

You wait and see.

[wind howling,
wind chimes jingling]

[wind howling,
wind chimes jingling]

MALE VOICE:
The spit is already heating
in the fire

close to your hands.

Who's there?

[gasps]

What do you want?

The words on the back
of the mortification.

You wanted to know
what they mean.

Put that down!

What are you doing here?

Get out before
I call the police.

You won't
do that.

You're a thief, and thieves
are afraid of the police.

Put that down.

This picture is very precious.

I know that.

Do you?

I'm sure you know how much
it's worth to your customers,

but are you aware
of its real value?

I know what the thing is worth.

Now give it to me.

You are undoubtedly a
clever man, Mr. Harte,

but sometimes clever people
seize on the immediate things,

and miss out on the larger,
more important truth.

This, for
instance, may be

only a common
beggar's bowl to you,

but to others, it is

the cup of St. Bartholomew,
Mr. Harte.

[scoffs]

You sell any art?

Clever man.

Making fun in order
that you will not learn.

Listen, mister...

I'm talking to you
about a holy man.

One who gave up great wealth

in order to walk
with those who had nothing.

With this, his sacred bowl,

he fed the needy.

And even though he himself
was without money,

this bowl was always full.

So, a miracle, huh?

That's right.

Like that bowl popping up
in your hands.

St. Bartholomew
was no mere conjurer.

He was a man
who gave his life

in the cause of others.

When he died,
this bowl was passed

from generation to generation,

until it came
to Spain.

That's where you found it,
Mr. Harte,

you and your little army
of thieves.

I am a dealer of art.

You are a thief,

one who had better soon learn
the error of his ways.

My only error is
listening to this crap.

There is so little time,
Mr. Harte.

Time for what?

What is it
that you want from me?

Return these things
you have stolen.

I would not return the sketch
if my life depended on it.

Look at it.

How can you live
among these great works

and not be touched by them?

Art exists to enrich the soul.

Come off
it, mister.

You buy a Mercedes,
you buy a Matisse.

It all comes down to the
same thing, and that's status,

and the man with the money
wins the prize.

Look at the picture.

Bartholomew's cup is extended
to the heretic.

Drink from it,
confess, and repent.

I spent 15 years of my life
in parochial school on my knees,

begging for forgiveness,

and all anyone ever told me
there was how bad I stink,

so don't think that you're
telling me anything new.

I implore you.

Well, this is what I think
of St. Bartholomew

and his lousy bowl.

[thud]

Ardescit
in foco ferrum...

monibus tuis propinquum.

[distant crow cawing]

[man screaming
in distance]

What is this?

Where am I?

The court of inquisition.

You have been brought before me,
accused of grave crimes.

I will hear them to determine

your chastisement.

This is a dream.

This has got
to be a dream.

Here you may speak
only when I give my permission.

What are the charges?

My Lord, he has induced others
to steal for him

treasures of the
church and state.

He has sold
these treasures

to enrich himself.

What is this-- some
kind of sick fantasy?

Now, you listen
to me, mist...

[grunts]
[groans]

[anguished cry]

Fascinating quality
of the human will is

how swiftly it responds to pain
inflicted upon the flesh.

You will remember
to keep silent.

What more?

He confesses his deeds,
but not his guilt.

Believing in nothing
but his own profit,

he sees no wrong
in what he does.

He is a heretic.

I will give you
one opportunity only

to confess and repent.

What do you say
to these charges?

I don't know who you are, but
you won't get away with this.

It is you... who cannot escape.

In this place,
your body will suffer

for the sins of
your soul, unless...

[man screaming in distance]

...until you make confession.

[whip cracks in distance]

[grunts]

This is insane!

[grunts]
No!

[grunts]

What are you doing?

Please, please stop him!

[clicking]

[gears grinding]

[gears squeaking]

Confess...
to your guilt.

Oh...

Oh, my God.

Don't blaspheme.

Humble yourself.

Admit your sins,

and I will
stop the pain.

Water, please.

Speak...

before it's too late.

[panting and groaning]

It's all true, all of it.

[panting]

Tell me.

I am eager
to hear.

Everything you said.

I bought things
stolen from churches.

I s-- I sold them.

I never understood
any of it.

I only did it
for the money.

Do you swear on your immortal
soul, on pain of death,

that you'll abandon
these evil practices?

[gears grinding and squeaking]

Oh, God.

Yes, I do.

I'm sorry for everything.

Just let me go,
I'll return it all,

I swear.

Then I am done
with you.

[gears grinding and squeaking]

[panting]

[thud]

Hello, is Mr. Gerber there?

Wh-Wh-When will he be back?

Yes, it's very important.

A piece of 16th-century art
has come into my possession.

It's very rare,

very special, and I'm putting it
up for private sale.

Two weeks?

Look, I can't possibly wait
that long.

No, don't bother.

[slams phone down]

[fire crackling]

♪ ♪

Hello, Jimmy, I am prepared
to sell you the sketch.

$10,000?

Jimmy, that's less
than what I...

[wry chuckle]

W-Well, I guess
you saw me coming, huh, sport?

Yeah.

Yeah, you read me like a book.

All right, $10,000 in cash...

but it's got to be
right now, Jimmy.

I mean right now.

[door unlocking]

[door unlatching]
Jimmy?

[distant crow cawing]

No, get away from me.

An insincere confession merits

the extreme penalty.

I'm giving it all back...

all of it.

Please.

[wind howling,
wind chimes jingling]

Please, come on.

I'm just asking you
to be fair with me.

Mr. Harte?

Mr. Harte?

All right.

[chuckles]

Talked him down to ten,
and now it's mine for nothing.

NARRATOR:
The dark side is always there.

Waiting for us to enter.

Waiting to enter us.

Until next time, try
to enjoy the daylight.