Mm-hmm, yes.
Love you.
I love you.
Hello.
MAN: Morning, sir.
Ah, good morning.
Good morning, Cecil.
Top of the morning to you.
Oh, thank you.
Good-bye, darling.
WOMAN: Good-bye, Charles.
What time can I expect you?
Before supper.
The X-Files S01E12 Fire Re-Sync & Edit Tharindu_Lakmal_Jeewantha
I forgot what it was like to spend a day in court.
That's one of the luxuries
to hunting down aliens and genetic mutants.
You rarely get to press charges.
(chuckles)
It's opened.
What?
It's unlocked.
That's weird.
I'm sure I locked it.
Must be an X file.
(chuckles)
What's that?
I told you I locked the door.
What do you think it is?
Ten to one, you can't dance to it.
WOMAN: Greetings, Agent Mulder.
Six months ago, British Minister of Parliament
Reggie Ellicott received an audio cassette
much like the one you are listening to now.
Unfortunately for Minister Ellicott,
when he popped the tape into the car stereo,
he armed a device which, when he tried to exit the car,
created an explosion which was heard five miles away.
The Scotland Yard forensic team could only identify
the poor bastard by his dental records.
If only he hadn't reached for the door handle
and triggered the detonator.
But then how was he to know
he was sitting on enough plastic explosive
to lift the car 40 feet in the air
and deposit the engine block
on top of a three-story building?
(gasps)
Aren't we looking rather ghostly?
It's an old friend.
Aren't you going to thank me?
For what?
Saving your life.
One tends not to make the same mistake twice.
I'll try to remember that. Oh, come on,
don't tell me you left your sense of humor
in Oxford ten years ago.
No, actually it's one of the few things
you didn't drive a stake through.
You know, some mistakes are quite worth making twice.
Dana Scully,
this is Phoebe Greene.
Terror of Scotland Yard.
Hello.
She hates me.
What brings you to the colonies?
GREENE: Some clever bloke has been giving
the aristocracy a good scare.
Killed off a ranking member of Parliament
or three for good measure.
Set Windsor Castle ablaze in '92.
Your car bomber?
No. This one likes
to burn his victims alive.
Can't figure out how he does it either.
Not a crumb of evidence left at the crime scene.
The last one died in his front garden,
his poor, young wife watching helplessly
as he went up in smoke.
The Irish Republican Army?
Our suspect likes to send love letters
to his victims' wives.
Sent one to the wife of Sir Malcolm Marsden
a month ago.
Three days later he narrowly escaped a fire in his garage.
It burned to the ground.
So they're renting a place out on Cape Cod.
Bringing the family over to the States
for an extended holiday
or until we can catch the dirty bugger.
Do you think he's that determined?
GREENE: Judging by his success, he seems to take
a certain delight in his work.
So, what brings you on this detour to Washington, D.C.,
Inspector?
I figured my friend Mulder...
...couldn't resist a three-pipe problem.
I'll run it by our arson specialist.
Splendid.
I'll call London, let them know.
Oh, good-bye.
Three-pipe problem?
That's from, uh,
Sherlock Holmes.
It's a private joke.
How private?
Um...
we knew each other in school in England.
She was brilliant
and, uh, I got in over my head
and, uh, paid the price.
Mulder, you just keep unfolding like a flower.
That was over ten years ago, Scully.
Yeah, I noticed how you couldn't drop everything
fast enough in order to help her out.
Oh, I was merely extending her a professional courtesy.
Oh, is that what you were extending?
Look, I'm going to run this by the arson guys
and then she's on her own.
Something tells me you're not going
to get rid of her that easily.
Beautiful.
Oh, just beautiful.
Look at that.
Salmon red flames.
This is 1,400-1,500 degrees.
This is a work of art.
Was there any kind of incendiary device used?
Yes, actually.
The victim's body.
Spontaneous combustion?
He was murdered.
However, we've turned up no evidence
that tells how the body caught fire.
That's peculiar.
People don't normally just catch on fire.
I mean, we burn, but we don't conduct all that well.
There's usually some kind of extraneous fuel involved
like candle wax, gasoline--
something flammable and incendiary
that adheres to the skin.
Like an accelerant.
Like an accelerant. Yes. But we've found no trace
of anything save for a dusting of magnesium
at two of the sites.
That's aliphatic pyrolysis.
It's a residue remaining after an exothermic reaction.
But there's no evidence of the source--
no pour pattern or ignition devices.
There have been some arson fires
in Seattle lately and, um, Pennsylvania.
They burn so hot that the firemen can't put 'em out.
7,000 degrees.
I mean, hosing that down just makes it worse.
How's that?
Well, the, uh, reaction is so intense
that it splits the water
into hydrogen and oxygen.
It just adds fuel to the fire.
What were they using?
We don't know for sure.
It could be rocket fuel.
That stuff burns so hot and clean,
there's never a trace left.
You see, it's very difficult to prove arson.
(chuckling): It's driving the insurance companies nuts.
Well, that's about the only explanation that I can give you.
But there have been cases of pyrokinetics--
people who can control and conduct fire.
Well, I've seen fire bend around corners,
seen it bounce like a rubber ball.
Fire has got a certain genius, you know,
a certain demon poetry.
It's like it's got a mind of its own,
but I've never seen one that can defy
the laws of physics, not when you figure it out.
You've, uh...
got quite a case for yourself here, Mulder.
I almost wish I could be in your shoes.
(barks)
Hey, Jackson.
Boy, that's a nice house.
Oh, what do you think? What a pleasant surprise.
Welcome to America, Sir Malcolm.
LORD MARSDEN: Thank you very much. I'm delighted to be here.
Where's the dog?
Darling.
(indistinct chatter)
(dog barking)
Right there.
In here, please. Thank you.
And over there as well. All right.
But the second one, I want upstairs.
LORD MARSDEN: Gentlemen, the second set of boxes
will go directly up the stairs.
Please be careful.
Hello there.
Hello.
I'm Bob the caretaker.
We've been exchanging letters.
Oh, good heavens. Yes, of course.
Hello, Bob, how are you? Excuse the paint.
Hi. Hello.
Just trying to spruce the place up for you.
Well, it's delightful.
The photos don't do it justice.
Anything I can do for you, anything at all,
you just holler.
Thank you, Bob, thank you very much. Thanks.
Seems like a rather nice fellow, don't you think?
Very.
My God, darling,
that painting rather looks like you.
What do you think?
Oh, I don't know.
I've never been good at this one.
(squeals)
(barking)
Bloody little cur, I'll skin you alive.
See, I'm the caretaker now.
So, Sherlock, is the game afoot?
I'm afraid so, Watson.
You're off the hook on this one.
What do you mean?
I mean I'm not going to put you through this.
Put me through what?
Phoebe's little mind game.
What are you talking about?
There's something else I haven't told you about myself, Scully.
(sighs) I hate fire.
Hate it.
I'm scared to death of it.
(sighs)
When I was a kid, my best friend's house burned down.
Had to spend the night in the rubble to keep away looters.
For years I had nightmares
about being trapped in a burning building.
Wait,
and Phoebe knows about this? Oh, yeah,
this is classic Phoebe Greene, mind game player extraordinaire.
Ten years it's taken me to forget about this woman,
and she shows up in my life with a case like this.
So she shows up knowing the power she has over you
and then she makes you walk through fire.
Is that it?
Phoebe is fire.
Mulder, are you sure
you don't want me to help you out on this one?
Sooner or later, a man's got to face his demons.
♪ ♪
(man coughing)
(coughing)
Hello, you're the Marsdens' driver?
Who's that?
Bob.
Caretaker.
Oh.
Bum a smoke?
Yeah, sure.
I'm going into town.
Can I get you anything?
Yeah... some cough medicine if it's no problem.
Syrup or...
lozenges?
Syrup would be good.
(coughing)
Can I give you some money?
Appreciate that.
(coughing)
Beer.
They don't let you bring your own around here.
Well, I guess they'll just have to make an exception,
won't they?
Oh, you're English.
God, I just love that accent.
Allow me.
And a gentleman to boot.
Oh, my God.
(chuckles)
Now, that is a trick.
Hey, guys, take a look at this.
Care for a light?
(patrons screaming)
MULDER: I pulled this report off the wire last night.
Eyewitnesses are saying
that a customer in the bar caught fire,
but they're still looking for a body.
Any indication an accelerant was used?
The bar is across the street from a fire station.
Burned to the ground
before they had a chance to even respond.
The fire marshal said it burned so hot,
it turned the concrete foundation into sponge cake.
This is a woman who was in the bar.
Hello. Hello.
Miss Kotchik? Yes.
I'm Special Agent Mulder from the FBI.
This is Inspector Greene.
Can you tell us
what happened in the bar last night?
There was this guy.
I'd had a few drinks, so...
He sat next to me and he did this thing.
It was like a magic trick
where he lit his finger on fire.
Next thing, I turned around, he was up in flames.
Can you describe him?
Good-looking, I think.
Brownish hair.
Long hair, short hair?
I've already given the police the information.
Do you think you could work with a composite artist
and come up with a sketch for us?
Look, I said I had a few drinks.
Can I get your full name and address?
See...
I live with someone.
He thinks I was at school last night.
It's no problem.
You can come down
to the field office and work with somebody there.
I'll give you a minute to think about it, okay?
(door opens)
Deftly done, Agent Mulder.
Casually disregard her indiscretion.
A firm but polite manner
until she accedes to cooperate.
It's a technique I refined in my relationship with you.
Oh, yes, well,
I see you haven't lost your sense of humor after all.
I'm sorry, that was a cheap shot.
I don't want to dredge up the past.
Let's just stick to the case.
Let's.
Look, Phoebe, I... Unless I'm mistaken,
ten years seems sufficient time to have forgiven
if not forgotten a few youthful indiscretions.
I'm cursed with a photographic memory.
Then don't you tell me that you've forgotten
a certain youthful indiscretion...
atop Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's tombstone
on a misty night in Windlesham.
Like I said, let's just stick to the case.
Well, it occurred to me that we're going to a lot of trouble
to find the description of a man who, in all likelihood,
has been burned to a crisp.
I would agree with you, but they haven't found a body yet.
So, can we count on you?
Yeah, okay.
I don't know if it matters,
but I remembered something else about the guy who caught fire.
He had an English accent.
(driver coughing)
Having a rough time, huh?
Maybe it's the cough syrup.
SCULLY: After reviewing the files
of the Scotland Yard arson/murders,
two points remain unexplained.
One is the use of an untraceable accelerant.
The other involves the victims.
Since they all burned in the presence of family members
in safe surroundings, this indicates
unusually intimate access to the victims by the arsonist.
The arsonist is most likely a male less than 25 years of age.
He will often act out of impulse,
satisfying sexual urges or insecurities
with destructive behavior, which compensates
for his social inadequacies or maladjustments.
You boys want to see a magic trick?
Okay.
What's your names?
Michael and Jimmie.
Doesn't he talk?
Yes.
What kind of a magic trick?
Maybe I'd better not.
Show us.
Nah, you might tell your mom and dad.
We won't tell.
Really? Promise?
Promise.
Hope to die-- stick a needle in your eye?
Okay, boys.
You've taken the solemn oath of trust that can't be broken
except under penalty...
of death.
Watch.
Is it in there?
No.
Ah, you're too smart for me.
Where did it go?
Where do you think it went, Jimmie?
I don't know.
Uh... I think I remember.
(grunting)
Ta-da!
Ooh!
Do it again. You want me to do it again?
Yes.
Okay, we'll do it again.
(knocking)
Agent Beatty? Yeah.
I'm Special Agent Dana Scully.
Can I steal a minute of your time?
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, come in,
come in, come in.
I'm just working on this Mafia torch job here.
I'm working with Agent Mulder.
Oh, yeah, wild case.
So, what can I do for you?
You mentioned that the arsonist might be using
some kind of rocket fuel as an accelerant.
Yeah, that's just speculation.
It still doesn't explain how he sets bodies on fire.
What if he got some of this fuel
into some hand cream or...?
Well, you've got to understand,
even the smallest amounts of this stuff
can produce temperatures over 5,000 degrees,
but I suppose it's not impossible.
Extremely diluted.
But you still have to find a way to ignite it.
Wow! It lit by itself!
Come on, sit down.
So, you guys ever smoked a cigarette?
No. They're bad for you.
Would you like to take a puff, Michael?
No.
Make a man out of you.
I don't want to.
Why don't you hold one for me?
How about you, Jimmie?
Huh, little man?
LADY MARSDEN: Jimmie,
Michael.
Hello.
Bob. (chuckles)
Ugh.
There you are.
Um, we've had
a bit of bad news.
Um, our driver has taken ill,
and we're due at a party in Boston this evening.
Is there any chance that we can impose upon you
to drive the family into town?
We'd be more than happy to pay you for your time
and certainly to put you up for the night.
I'd be very happy to do it as a favor.
Oh, good, thank you.
All right, then, boys, let's go.
Daddy's got lunch all ready.
Jimmie, you're absolutely filthy.
MICHAEL: Come on, I'll race you.
Oh, Mom, I don't mind. Honestly, Jimmie...
SCULLY: The arsonist is usually unmarried
and prone to obsessive fantasies about women or men
who are inaccessible to him.
Often the setting of fires results from his cowardice
and inability to develop a natural relationship.
His crimes are often very clever and elaborately planned.
The suspicious nature of the fire last night
strongly suggests the arsonist has followed Lord Marsden
to the United States.
A check of all recent immigration
to the northeastern area is underway.
It has become not a matter of if
but when he will strike.
MAN: Here's that immigration data you wanted.
Thank you.
You're welcome.
Remember those reports I told you about-- about people
who control and conduct fire-- pyrokinetics?
Vaguely.
I think this guy just sent us a message
that he's far more exotic.
I should say so, I mean, if he can set himself afire.
(laughs) What?
I'm just not used to someone so quick to agree with me.
Oh. What kind of protection does the family have?
The driver's a very capable bodyguard.
Well, he should look into getting a few additional men
and limit public exposure.
Oh, they've got a party being held
in their honor tonight in Boston.
They're gonna have to cancel.
Unless you wanted to set a trap.
I had thought of that,
but we must be careful and discreet.
The party's at 8:00 at the Venable Plaza.
I'll be traveling with the family
so why don't you go on ahead and have
a look around? Oh, and...
I've taken a room at the hotel for the night.
(car door opens)
Thanks.
All right, thank you.
(phone ringing)
Mulder.
It's Scully. Where are you?
I'm in Boston.
I've got something to show you.
I'm gonna come up there.
What have you got?
I might have some information
on the identity of your arson suspect.
(clears throat)
Are you there, Mulder?
Yeah... yeah.
Can I meet you somewhere?
No, it's just, I'm, I'm kind of anticipating
having my hands full.
BOY: We're here.
Good evening. Thank you.
BOY: Let's go inside.
Evening, sir. Hello.
(indistinct chatter)
(laughter and indistinct chatter)
Enjoying yourself?
There's good food,
witty conversation.
I'm having the time of my life.
I wondered if you think it's safe enough
to indulge ourselves in a dance?
Doesn't look like your arsonist
is going to make an appearance.
That doesn't mean there won't be any fires to put out.
I've thought about you often.
(sighs)
(beeping)
There's a fire upstairs.
What?
On the 14th floor.
That's where the children are.
We've got a fire on the 14th floor.
(panicked chatter)
(alarm ringing)
(sighs)
(coughing)
(children shouting and coughing)
Let us out!
(Mulder coughing)
Hurry up.
(children coughing)
Here we go. Got one down.
Come on, buddy, come on.
Come on, here you go.
Can you walk? You get him?
Yeah, I got him. Hold on.
(coughing)
Here we are.
Mommy.
Jimmie, Michael, oh, my God, are you all right?
(overlapping chatter)
You saved their lives.
Who is he? He's the driver.
Thanks. Thanks.
Well done, good job, thank you.
(coughing)
You were really out.
Where's Phoebe?
She's down the hall.
What about the kids?
Okay. The doctor checked them out.
What happened to you up there?
I panicked.
Couldn't even move, Scully.
It could have happened to anyone.
Yeah... but it happened to me.
I haired out... plain and simple.
What do you know about
this guy that saved the kids-- the driver?
I checked him out prior to the Marsdens' arrival.
He's worked on the property for eight years.
No record.
His references checked out.
They were lucky he was here tonight.
Who was watching the kids tonight?
He was. Are you sure?
I could have sworn I saw him down in the hallway
about the same time that the fire broke out.
You couldn't have.
Anyway, the man we're looking for
is English. Hey.
I came to see if you were okay.
How are the kids?
They're fine.
Everybody's anxious to get back.
To the cape? Only to pack.
They've made travel arrangements
back to England for the day after tomorrow.
And you?
I'll be leaving in a few days.
Look, I'll give you a ring back at the Bureau
before I leave.
All right.
Good-bye.
You okay?
Yeah.
You at all interested in what I came
all the way up here to show you?
Yeah.
Well, I did some checking on my own.
I didn't know a whole lot about arson or arsonists
so I took the opportunity
for my own edification, of course.
I ran a profile of possible incendiary fuels
and accelerants that could have been used
in the crimes.
I also took the liberty
of running a search through Interpol
of all the gardeners,
manservants, and domestic help
that were hired by the murder victims
at the time of their deaths.
And...? And
these people probably don't even tie their own shoes.
There were over 200 names
and not a duplicate... except one.
A Cecil Lively.
He worked as a gardener for two of the victims.
And what did you find on him?
Nothing.
So he's clean. Apparently
he was questioned by Scotland Yard
and they released him, but I dug a little further.
Cecil Lively is a documented citizen
of Great Britain, paid his taxes,
never been on the dole, a model citizen--
until he died in 1971 in a London tenement fire.
I know, that's what I thought,
so I checked a little further.
Cecil L'ively, spelled "L-apostrophe," came up again.
In fact, it came up twice--
first on a list of death certificates
listed among a group of children who died in ritual sacrifice
by a satanic cult in 1963
in the Tottingham Woods outside Bath, England.
Where else did you find it?
You're going to love this.
On a list of recent visas
issued by the British government.
Cecil Lively's passport
was stamped by U.S. immigration officials
two weeks ago at the port of entry in Boston.
Call the local field office in Boston of the FBI
and get them to fax you the composite the witness did
of the man who burned down the bar and then get them
to fax it to every local law enforcement agency in the area.
What are you going to do?
I'm going to try and catch Phoebe.
This guy could be waiting for them in Cape Cod.
Yes, this is Special Agent Scully.
I've been waiting on hold for you guys
to fax me a composite of an arson suspect.
Right. Hang on a second.
It's coming through.
Thanks.
Oh, my God.
It's the driver.
(line ringing)
WOMAN: We're sorry, the cellular customer you are trying to reach
is out of the area.
(clears throat)
Excuse me.
His name is Cecil Lively.
Who?
Your arsonist.
Where's the rest of the family?
They went outside for a walk.
Well, go find 'em. We got to get 'em packed
and get 'em out of here.
Come on, we have to hurry, let's go.
I'm sorry, children, we have to leave right away.
(knocking)
It's the driver.
I know. He disappeared.
What's the matter?
Nothing. Um, I found this out in the garage.
It's been very hard on the family.
Did you get the composite?
Yes. I don't believe it. I can't believe it.
He's worked for us for over ten years.
Well, obviously there's been some type of mistake.
Oh.
Oh, my God.
This isn't the driver.
It's the caretaker.
LADY MARSDEN: And he's upstairs with the children.
Jimmie, Michael... Michael.
Michael?
Michael.
Jimmie.
Looks like we found
the missing driver.
GREENE: Mulder, in here quickly.
What's going on?
They just went up
all by themselves.
LORD MARSDEN: My God!
(screaming)
Oh, my God. Everybody out!
Let's go, get out, get out!
Let's go! Go, go, go!
I think he rigged the whole house.
Oh, no.
It's fuel.
(all gasp)
Go! Go!
Quick, come on. Come on.
Come on, move, move.
(all coughing)
Scully, see if you can find a fire extinguisher.
Everybody else, outside.
But what about the children?
(door closes)
MULDER: I'll take care of the children.
Go.
You gonna be okay, Mulder?
Oh, yeah, I'll be fine.
There's no place I'd rather be.
(clattering, dog barking)
Michael, Jimmie, you in there?
(boys shouting indistinctly)
Time to call 911.
Don't move!
SCULLY: Freeze.
Federal agent.
You won't shoot me.
Stay right where you are.
You see?
'Cause you don't know
the spark from that round
won't blow this whole house to kingdom come.
Aah!
Back off, Scully, it's the accelerant!
LIVELY: No.
(boys screaming)
(coughing)
Help us! Help us!
Help us, please! Help!
Aah!
(grunting)
LORD MARSDEN: Michael, Jimmie, thank God, thank God.
(overlapping chatter)
(boys coughing)
(laughing)
You can't kill me!
(laughing)
You can't fight fire
with fire!
(laughing)
Care to take me to lunch?
Scare you?
You have no idea.
Where is Phoebe?
I don't know.
You don't know.
She didn't call?
No. She did messenger this to me last night, though.
Did you play it?
No.
Why not?
Aren't you curious what's on it?
Ten to one, you can't dance to it.
SCULLY: X file #11214893:
addendum to the file opened by Special Agent Mulder.
The arson suspect Cecil Lively
was admitted to Boston Mercy Hospital
with fifth- and sixth-degree burns
over his entire body.
Military burn specialists have been brought in
to study the case, which they're calling extraordinary
not only for the fact the suspect survived
but for the rapid regeneration of his basal cell tissue.
Full recovery is anticipated in as little as a month.
(rapping)
Lively is being held
in a high-security medical facility.
There you go. Confined to a hyperbaric chamber
until he can be tried on murder charges
in the death of a Massachusetts caretaker.
His body temperature remains at a steady 109 degrees.
Health technicians have removed
anything flammable from his room
due to several fires
which have broken out in the vicinity.
According to Agent Mulder,
further incarceration remains a problem
for federal penal authorities.
Can I get you anything, sir?
I'm just dying for a cigarette.
The X-Files S01E12 Fire Re-Sync & Edit Tharindu_Lakmal_Jeewantha