Y&R Transcript Wednesday 8/13/03--Canada;
Thursday 8/14/03
Provided By Eric
Proofread by Emma
Michael: Look, Paul, I understand that you live and die by your hunches, but you have to start dealing with what's concrete, what's factual, in front of you.
Paul: That's right; I do, and right now all kinds of little alarm bells are going off in my head.
Michael: Because of lapses in Christine’s memory?
Paul: We don't know that they're memories.
Michael: All right, because of lapses in whatever it is Dr. Carter brought up while she was under hypnosis, there.
Paul: All right, say Chris did have some sort of contact with Isabella the night she disappeared. Why is she remembering only in a few little flashes? I mean, we're talking about a blackout that lasted at least 24 hours. It makes me wonder if there is something here that we are missing.
Michael: I don't see why. Wouldn't she tend to recall her most vivid moments, the ones she was most traumatized the most in?
Paul: Exactly. Like the moment in the apartment when Isabella was bludgeoned with a candlestick. I mean, according to your theory, if Chris was there, and she was involved in this, she would most certainly remember that.
Michael: Well, there's probably a very simple explanation for this.
Paul: Like what?
Michael: As I understand it, Dr. Carter interrupted the hypnosis because Christine was getting so overwrought. She's talking about everything that happened that night in the woods. Now if the session had continued, it seems to me she would have recalled more key events. Look, Paul, your instincts aren't wrong. There is something off here... (sighs) but for me, it's the fact that we are being forced to imagine Christine behaving so violently. I think that's what's throwing us.
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Bobby: Oh, look who's here.
Bobby: Ooh, nice necklace. Where'd you get that?
Bobby: Well, he's got good taste.
Bobby: (Chuckles) so how's my best girl, hmm? Well, you are.
Bobby: I mean how's Marsino's hottest star? What did you think I meant?
Bobby: Darn right. Who woulda thunk it? A singer. I might get myself a couple more of those. Two singers. I'm just teasing.
Bobby: I don't know. I think you like being the only singer.
Bobby: Mm-hmm. All right, what's up? Why you getting so serious?
Bobby: Uh-oh. What?
Bobby: About what?
Bobby: Well, how can I tell you if I don't know what it's about?
Bobby: All right, I'll try. Now what's going on?
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Angelo: Hey, Bren.
Brenda: Yeah?
Angelo: Check it out. New guy.
Brenda: He's mine. Hi.
Raul: Hi.
Brenda: I'm Brenda. Welcome to Marsino's. Table?
Raul: Yeah, yeah, I guess.
Brenda: Yeah?
Raul: Sure.
Brenda: Right this way. Right here. Could I get your name?
Raul: Uh, Raul.
Brenda: Raul. I like that, Raul. So I think you're really gonna like it here. In fact, I can almost guarantee you a night you'll never forget.
Brenda: Is it okay if I sit?
Raul: Sure.
Brenda: Thanks. Look, I hope you don't mind me asking, but...
Raul: No, I don't have an I.D., But I don't drink alcohol.
Brenda: Oh, that's okay. All right, there's a 2-drink minimum. So, uh, we have soda, sparkling water, juices--
Raul: That's fine. It's cool. What time does the show start?
Brenda: Oh, you're a little impatient, huh? It won't be long. All right, now this is how it works. See, us girls, we work on tips. So if you see something you like, feel free to make a contribution. No touching. We're up on the stage, and you're down here.
Raul: Hey, Brenda, come on. I'm not gonna attack anybody, okay?
Brenda: That's all right. I just--I wanted to make sure you knew the rules so you're comfortable and that we all have a good time. Anyway, we have all different types of dancers here, and we all do our own choreography. So it's always very interesting. Oh, and we have a singer.
Raul: Really?
Brenda: Mm-hmm.
Raul: You have a singer?
Brenda: Oh, yeah. She's new. Her name's Marilyn. She's a beautiful blonde. You're gonna love her.
Brenda: Okay. Anyway, Raul...
Raul: Hmm?
Brenda: When I'm up onstage later, part of me's gonna be dancing for you. I'll let you decide which part.
Brenda: Right.
Raul:
Oh, damn it,
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Bobby: Mm-hmm. What about it?
Bobby: Hey, if you don't want to wear it onstage, I understand, but don't go throwing that thing around. Put it somewhere safe.
Bobby: Why not? It's just a--it's a token.
Bobby: Of appreciation. You've done a lot for this place.
Bobby: Well, you see, I like you, and your birthday's coming up, and I just wanted to get you a present. What's wrong with that?
Bobby: Yeah, so?
Bobby: Well, that's a little old-fashioned.
Bobby:
Listen,
Bobby: I'm not getting mad. I just wanted to get you a present. Is that so unreasonable?
Bobby: What is the deal with you? Why are you acting as though I tried to take advantage of you?
Bobby: So don't give back the necklace.
Bobby: You know what? Do what you gotta do.
Bobby: Sounds like he's a regular saint.
Bobby: You're right. You're right. So let's just keep it that way, okay?
Bobby: Yeah, I'm fine. What are you talking about?
Bobby: Don't I always? Listen, get outta here. I got work to do. Why don't you go warm up your pipes or something? Whatever you singers do.
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Chris: (Gasps)
Isabella: Hello, Christine. You enjoying your nice, warm bath?
Chris: Isabella? I must be imagining this. You can't be real.
Isabella: Oh, but I'm very real.
Chris: No, you're not. You're dead.
Isabella: Afraid not, my dear, but in a very few moments, you will be.
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Michael: Okay, all right. We have to stay focused. We have to build a strategy.
Paul: No, it won't do a damn bit of good if she insists on confessing.
Michael: No, she can't, Paul. We--we can't allow that. That's critical. Now step one, the trial-- we have to build a defense. Now unless some other evidence comes to light, the thing I find most encouraging here is that there is no smoking gun. There is no body, there are no witnesses--
Paul: They won't find a smoking gun because one doesn't exist.
Michael: Yeah.
Paul: At least not where Chris is concerned.
Michael: As far as establishing motive, unfortunately, Diane is gonna be a key witness. She and Isabella-- they were very close friends. We can't legally prove that she had an ax to grind against Christine either. She barely knew her. Do you know of anyone else that Isabella may have spoken to?
Paul: What, about Chris?
Michael: Uh-huh, yeah. To corroborate her story that Isabella was terrified, that she knew that Chris was enraged with her.
Paul: No, no one that I can think of.
Michael:
What about family? You just came back from
Paul: Well, I barely spent any time there before I turned around and came back.
Michael: All right, all right, in other words, no, they didn't say anything about Chris. You know, I shouldn't be surprised. They're probably devastated, right? To lose a child, that's the worst thing in the world.
Paul: You know, it really didn't hit me at the time since I was focusing on Ricky, but, you know, now that you mention it...
Michael: What?
Paul: Well, Ricardo and trini, they-- they didn't really seem grief-stricken. They--they seemed, I don't know, more uncomfortable.
Michael: Uncomfortable why?
Paul: I'm not sure.
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Chris: But why?Why? How can you possibly be...
Isabella: Alive? I'm glad you asked that. It's quite a story, actually. I'm rather proud of myself.
Chris: What are you doing here?
Isabella: Come on, Christine. I came here to gloat, of course. How do you suppose I got all of your admirers to believe that their gentle little lamb was guilty of murder? Hmm? Well, to give credit where credit is due, you deserve some of the accolades. After all, it was you who blew your squeaky-clean cover that day at my apartment when you brutally attacked me.
Chris: You provoked me.
Isabella: Ah, it doesn't matter, sweetie. Doesn't matter. That little act of violence was a watershed moment in our lives, both yours and mine.
Chris: What are you talking about?
Isabella: When you tried to choke me, you proved to the rest of the world that beneath that innocent exterior there are some very twisted demons. You motivated me to go after revenge.
Chris: Isabella, you can't do this.
Isabella: Ah, but I can, Christine. Because you inspired me to carry out my plan, and because I'm the one holding the knife.
Chris: Look, I want--
Isabella: What are you doing? What are you doing?
Chris: Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the liv--
Isabella: No, I wouldn’t. Stay where you are! Stay the hell where you are. Come on. Are you feeling vulnerable, Christine? Hmm? Are you? Hmm? Isn't this poetic justice? Since you took such delight in exploiting all of my vulnerabilities. And you were so brilliant at it, too... but you made one mistake.
Chris: Mistake?
Isabella:
Mm-hmm. Yeah. You underestimated me. Thought I was a stupid loser who wasn't
gonna fight back, but I did. I fought back and look what happened. The dumb
little housewife wound up outfoxing
Chris: I never said you were a loser.
Isabella: Oh, but you thought it. You thought it, and that's the same thing in my book.
Chris: Just take it easy.
Isabella: Don't tell me what to do. I'm the one calling the shots here, okay?
Chris: I want to hear your story, I do.
Isabella: Why?
Chris: Because you're right. We did underestimate you. I want to know how. Won't you just tell me?
Isabella: It's a long story. I don't even know where to begin. Oh, I guess my apartment, the scene of the crime.
Chris: I don't even remember being there the day that you disappeared.
Isabella: No, of course you don't, because you weren't there.
Chris: But how...
Isabella: The blood was mine, of course. Saved it up in advance, almost a pint of it. Then I had to set the scene-- candlesticks, strands of hair-- all to make it appear as if there had been a struggle--
Chris: (Grunts)
Isabella: Aah!
Chris: (Grunting)
Isabella: Nice try, Christine. Nice try, but no cigar. Now do you want to hear the rest of the story, or do you want me to cut your throat?!
Chris: I want to hear the story.
Isabella: Good. No sudden moves, you got it? Huh?
Isabella: Good girl. Isn't this fun? I talk, and you listen. (Laughs) you are gonna hear all the details on how I set out to destroy your pride and everything that went with it.
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Woman: Hey, Bobby. Full house tonight, huh?
Bobby: Yeah, I love it. Will you excuse me?
Woman: Okay.
Bobby: I see you took me up on my offer.
Raul: Yeah.
Bobby: Well, welcome to Marsino's.
Raul: You bought that necklace over at the boutique.
Bobby: Yeah.
Raul: And you gave it to my girlfriend.
Bobby: Did I? You sure it was the same one?
Raul: It was one of a kind. Don't play games with me.
Bobby: Okay. What's the problem?
Raul:
Does
Bobby: I don't talk to anybody about my girls.
Raul: Oh, your girls. So, what, you're a pimp? Is that it?
Bobby: Man, you're not very smart.
Raul: What are you gonna do, throw me out?
Bobby: No, actually I'd like you to stay as my guest. I think it will be an eye-opening experience for you. But behave yourself. I'm trying to run a business here, and I take that very seriously. (Cheers and applause) (whistling)
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Michael: Sure they weren't just putting up a brave front?
Paul: Isabella's parents?
Michael: You are the bereaved husband, after all, aren't you?
Paul: Well, I'm really not sure what Isabella told them. I mean, I never got into anything about our marriage. I didn't talk to them about how it all blew up or any of that.
Michael: Maybe that's it, then. They were trying to spare the son-in-law all the agonizing and tears, though that doesn't quite make sense either.
Paul: No, I mean, either they should have been all torn up and included me in that, or they should've been chilly as hell, knowing that their daughter and I were estranged before she disappeared.
Michael: Instead, they were uncomfortable with you.
Paul: Yeah.
Michael: Maybe they were still in shock.
Paul: Or worried that I'm going to bring Ricky back home, and they'll never see their grandson again.
Michael: Gotten pretty attached, have they?
Paul: Yeah big time.
Michael:
Well, you were in
Paul: Yeah. Could be.
Michael: You don't sound convinced. Look, these people have gone through a devastating time. Who could blame them for acting a bit squirrelly?
Paul: There's just something about this that I can't explain. I mean, it doesn't add up for me.
Michael: Your gut, huh?
Paul: It's like the more we talk, the more there has got to be some other explanation and I'm not seeing the whole pattern, but once I do, I'm sure the whole thing is going to fall into place. It will be the key to this nightmare. We will find out what really happened to Isabella.
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Isabella: We'll call this chapter two. After I set the scene at my apartment, I followed you over to Mary’s, slipped into the backseat of your car, and I waited.
Chris: You were there when I came out of the house?
Isabella: You got in the car, put the keys in the ignition...
Chris: And you knocked me out.
Isabella: Well, then there'd be a lump on your head. Come on, Christine, think! Use that lawyer brain of yours.
Chris: Chloroform.
Isabella: Bravo! Give the lady a prize. Then I moved you over in the seat, drove us out to the lake to a spot which I had chosen in advance, by the way. It was private, had access to the water, and a boat... splattered with my blood. I never did figure out how the police never found that. No matter, anyway. Then I sat and waited for you to arrive.
Chris: You staged the whole thing-- lying on the ground, waking up... the blood on your face... the scratches...
Isabella: I wanted them to find my skin under your nails.
Chris: And the strangling... you weren't trying to make me let go of you, were you? You were actually holding my hands to your throat, and when you let go, I let go.
Isabella: And I fell to the ground... dead. Poor Isabella.
Chris: And when I turned away...
Isabella: I got up. Then I chloroformed you again.
Chris: And you put me back in my car.
Isabella: Sweet, pure Christine--sleeping like a baby, only now with terrible memories implanted in her brain, memories that would haunt you day and night.
Chris: The splashes... flashbacks and the voices...
Isabella: Pretty neat, huh?
Chris: All right, so now that you've told me all this, what are you gonna do, let me rot in prison knowing that I'm innocent, but I can't prove it?
Isabella: No. That would be too risky. Then I'd have to stay in hiding forever, and I couldn't reunite with the man I love-- Paul, of course. I mean, despite everything, I still hope we have a future together-- Paul and me and our son. So, naturally, I'll have to reappear.
Chris: How do you intend to do that?
Isabella: Simple-- the lake you dumped me in was cold, and the water miraculously revived me. I was able to swim to a nearby island, where I spent weeks recovering.
Chris: You're never gonna get away with it, Isabella.
Isabella: Uh, I think I will. Yeah, I've done pretty good so far.
Chris: So you're gonna kill me?
Isabella: You really think I'm that stupid, Christine? Hmm? No, I'm not gonna kill you. You're gonna kill yourself.
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Chris: Suicide? Give me a break. No one is gonna buy it.
Isabella: I believe they will.
Chris: You think I'm not gonna fight it? It'll be obvious there was a struggle.
Isabella: You're too weak to struggle. I've taken care of that.
Chris: You hate me that much?
Isabella: More. Because step by step you have systematically ruined my life. At least you didn't keep me from seeing my son on his first birthday.
Chris:
You were in
Isabella: Does that surprise you, Christine?
Chris: Your parents know that you're alive?
Isabella: They're the only people I can trust, thanks to you and everything you've done to me!
Chris: You did that to yourself.
Isabella: Bull, Christine! Bull! What crimes am I guilty of, huh? Not telling Paul the whole truth when I first met him? How many people do the same thing on their first dates?! Besides, weigh that against later--how deeply we fell for each other-- weigh that against the fact that we have a child together! Then a few white lies mean nothing, less than nothing.
Chris: That's not how Paul sees it.
Isabella: That's because of you, your knowledge of his weak spots and your maniacal drive to exploit them. And what right did you have?
Chris: What right?
Isabella: You walked away that marriage, Christine.
Chris: I had a job...
Isabella: And you moved halfway across the world to separate yourself from Paul. And then the minute you discovered somebody else was in the picture, you wanted to salvage what you didn't give a damn about.
Chris: That's not how it was.
Isabella: You know, at first, I thought it was your ego, your reaction to seeing yourself replaced in Paul’s bed by me, but then I saw you in action, and I knew better. It's not love. It's not ego. It's obsession. You're obsessed. You're totally and hugely obsessed.
Chris: What are you gonna do now?
Isabella: I'm not gonna do anything. You will. In fact, you already have.
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Michael: All right, how do you think you're going to find this pattern? What kind of mental gyrations are you going to have to go through?
Paul: What about the psychiatrist? He can put her under again. We can find out if there is something else she is suppressing.
Michael: Chris would have to agree to another session.
Paul: I can convince her to do that.
Michael: Paul, tonight? You heard what she said.
Paul:
Damn it,
Michael: What do you think another session is gonna bring out, something to exonerate her?!
Paul: What are you suggesting, you think that's impossible?
Michael: I am saying that the best way to help Christine is to face the fact that she's gonna be arrested for murder. We have to deal with that. We can't just bury our heads in the sand.
Paul: Fine, fine. You deal with keeping her out of jail, and I will focus on finding out what really happened.
Michael: How?!
Paul: We are missing something here. I'm gonna keep digging. And I swear to you I will find it.
Michael: How, with your infallible detective gut?
Paul: You know, fine. You blow it off if you want, but there is something here that doesn't add up.
Michael: All right. You go ahead and live in your dream world. I'll talk to you in the morning. Maybe by then you'll wake up.
Paul: Oh, my god.
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Man: Come on, Marilyn.
Man #2: Yeah, Marilyn.
Man #3: Come on, Marilyn. Take it off! Show us some more, baby!
(Burlesque music playing)
Man: Here we go. (Whistling and cheering)
Man: Come on, baby. (Music stops)
Man: Come on, Marilyn. Don't stop!
Raul: Damn it. (Audience booing)
Bobby: Brenda, get up there now. Angelo, turn on some music. You, come here. Get him outta here. Angelo, some music now!
(Burlesque music playing) (cheering, whistling).
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Chris: What do you mean, "You already have"?
Isabella: It's like a tragic novel, really-- a prominent, young attorney-- one of the most respected, beloved women in town, about to turn herself in for committing a crime, a terrible crime-- murder. And in her guilt, she's even considering confessing.
Chris: How did you know that?
Isabella: Oh, come on, Christine, I'm sure you can figure it out.
Chris: You drugged me.
Isabella: Thanks to the sedatives your psychiatrist prescribed. I found them in the medicine chest. Remember that scarf you found in your car? The scarf you don't recall ever seeing before... the bloodstained scarf... my scarf.
Chris: You planted it.
Isabella: While you were in the garage, pulling yourself together after that talk with Detective Weber, I came up here. I let myself in with a key Paul still had, a key he left in my apartment. I found the clothes you wore that day in the back of the closet. I gave them a quick press, put them in a dry-cleaning bag I brought, attached the note I'd written, and hung them on the doorknob, where you'd be sure to see it.
Chris: Gaslighting...
Isabella: That's a quaint word, but, yes, you are right. Hey. Hey! Hey! (Bangs tub)
Isabella: Wake up! You have to hear the rest. Okay. So... back to the story. Prominent, young attorney filled with remorse... about to lose everything-- the man she loves... her reputation... her freedom... doesn't it stand to reason she'd wanna end the pain and anguish in one final desperate act?
Chris: You think I am going to cut my wrists with that knife?
Isabella: No. No, too bloody, too gruesome. Besides, it would mar your lovely body. A woman like you-- a woman like you would want to leave behind a beautiful corpse so that all her admirers could gaze at her during your funeral.
Chris: No. Please, Isabella.
Isabella: Good-bye, Christine.
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Next on "The Young And The Restless"...
Dru: Phyllis was with Damon the night he disappeared. They were together, and now he's missing.
Jack: Well, well, well, Mr. Porter.
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