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( Woman crying )
No, please. Don't hurt me.

I'll do anything
you want. No!

- ( Nail gun fires )
- ( Screams, crying )

His will be done.

The engine's still warm.

Maybe we should call
for backup.

And say what?

All right, this
is a tricky fucker.

Now, I want you to
watch my back.

And I want you
to watch yours.

You got it.

( Whimpering )

No.

- ( Nail gun fires )
- ( Screams )

( Screams )

( Door creaks )

Shit.

Jesus, god almighty.

( Cocks gun )

- St. Andrew.
- What?

He was crucified
upside down.

Stay sharp,
watch my back.

Look around,
all around.

Oh, god.

Proverb 11:22.

What the hell does
that mean?

"As a Jewel
in a swine's mouth,

so is a beautiful woman
without discretion."

( Door closes )

( Whispering )
Go, go, go.

Come on.

( Grunts, body thuds )

Oh, shit.

- ( Grunts )
- Oh!

- ( Fires )
- ( Groans )

- ( Fires )
- ( Groans )

Now, you know something
of the suffering of the lord!

Sick motherfucker.
( Grunting )

Tell me--
tell me, how does it feel

to be so lucky to be blessed
like the Christ?! Huh?

( Grunts )

( Groaning )

- ( Crunching )
- ( Screams )

( Spits )

( Panting )

( Water stops )

( Grunting )

( Screams )

( Breathing heavily )

( Cocks gun )

Okay.

Nothing there.

You're really awake now,
man.

Okay.

( Chuckles )
Okay.

Damn.

Woman:
Detective Morrell, could you
please describe to us

what you saw on the night
in question when you arrived?

Don:
Yes...

We arrived at the ranch
at about 9:00 P.M..

We entered cautiously.

I saw that man right there,
John Matthew Whitman.

I saw him clearly.

Judge:
Proceed with
the questioning.

Man:
Did you clearly see his face
from across the street?

...exactly what she's
talking about?

- Judge: Rephrase, counselor.
- Man: Is it true the street-
light on the corner was out?

...was incapable
of this kind of behavior.

Judge: Sustained.
Rephrase, counselor.

Man:
Clearly we understand

Whitman was not capable
of doing...

Judge: Sustained,
next question.

Ladies and gentlemen
of this jury,

the evidence presented
here today

has proven without
reasonable doubt

that John Matthew Whitman
deserves to die

in the gas chamber
for his crimes.

Judge:
Have you arrived
at a verdict?

The defendant will now rise
and face the court.

John Matthew Whitman,

you are found guilty of
all nine counts of murder
in the first degree.

The state of California
hereby sentences you

to die in
the gas chamber.

Do you have anything you wish
to say to the court?

"What then shall I do
when god riseth up?

And when he visiteth,

what shall I answer him?"

Those who stay the hand
of divine vengeance...

Will themselves be damned.

- Hi.
- Hi.

You're here early.

It's been a tough two years,
one appeal after another.

- I'm ready to put
this behind me.
- Yeah.

- How's your hand?
- ( Man coughs )

Baby, maybe I need to do
this in my own rhythm.

And at this point,
maybe you don't need to

check up on me.
We're not--

married anymore?

I know that.

But I still care
about you, Don.

Go.

( Clears throat )

Man:
John Matthew Whitman,

you have been found guilty

of the murders
of nine people

and have been sentenced
to be put to death

by lethal gas at
San Quentin prison

as prescribed
by the penal code of
the state of California

on this night of
June 8th, at midnight.

Do you have anything
to say before

sentence is carried out?

His will be done.

( Gas hissing )

( Gagging )

( Groans )

( Gurgles )

( Prays in Spanish )

Amen.

( Heart monitor beeping )

( Beeping rapidly )

Man:
John Matthew Whitman
is dead.

Relax now.
No harm can come to you.

Relax.

You will have no
memories before these.

Relax.

Know that you
are Steven Lloyd Schmidt.

( Electricity crackles )

Steven Lloyd Schmidt,
you were born January 21st...

( Overlapping voices )
Your father was shop foreman

at Bethlehem steel
until his accident.

Your mother
worked 14 years...

You graduated class
of 1975, 19th in your class.

You attended Lehigh
University, R.O.T.C.

Stationed Ramstein,
Germany.

Second lieutenant
Steven Lloyd Schmidt,

bravo company, 177th.

Your code word is,

"the unicorn
is in the garden."

Your code is...

"The unicorn
is in the garden."

- ( Basketball bouncing )
- Player: Come on, man, D up.

Player #2:
I'm taking him.

D up on him.

Player:
If you ain't gonna
take it, pass it!

Player #2:
Here! I'm open!

Player:
Come on, you gotta
play some D.

-Player #3: 'Sup, come on!
- ( Horn honks )

- I got him.
- I'm open. I'm open.

- ( Players whistling )
- Hello.

( Laughing )

Be right back, fellas.

Player:
Right, right.
All right, come on.

- What's happening?
- Hey, you.

Even on your day off,
you're still working
with the gang kids.

Well, it helps...

Keep them and me
off the streets.

And I need
the exercise.

I was going to say,

you're looking a little
out of shape there.

- Oh, thank you.
- ( Laughs )

Um...
( Clears throat )

I was wondering if you
wanted to have dinner
with me Friday night.

- You gonna cook?
- Yes, I'm gonna cook.

Do you want to have
dinner with me on
Friday night or not?

Hey, definitely.
It's cool.

- 8:00.
- Let's make it 7:00,

I need to get up early
for a deposition.

You...

You sure you want to?
I mean...

Aren't you?

You seem kinda like
you're busy, you know.

You know that used
to be my line.

Okay, Friday night.

- 7:00.
- Okay.

- ( Players laughing )
-See ya.

Player:
Bye, gorgeous.

Hey! What y'all
looking at?

( Crowd chattering
over TV )

- Four more years.
- Perry!

The senator
from this state.

Two more minutes till
the senator arrives.

Do you copy that,
Schmidt?

( Cheering )

Copy.

Tilt the camera
a few degrees.

Senator should be there
in one more minute.

Man:
He's coming up.
He's pulling up.

( Cheering )

Man:
You go get 'em,
senator.

You go get 'em.

Get 'em, Sam.
Go get 'em.

- Oh!
- ( Screaming )

Man:
Get that man!

Somebody, do something!

Schmidt, neutralize
the target, now.

The unicorn is
in the garden.

Hit him now!

Shit.

( Tires screech )

Sorry, Norwood.

Your mumbo jumbo
never really worked.

But I did enjoy
killing his bodyguards.
( Laughs )

I quit.

( Engine starts )

( Radiator hissing )

( Footsteps running )

( Sirens wailing )

( Chattering )

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

Man:
Attention, please.

The San Diego county court
of records division
is now closing.

Please conclude your
business immediately.
Thank you.

- See you tomorrow.
- All right, take care.

( Country music playing
over radio )

( Door closes )

I'm from the "tribune."

- My name is--
- hang on, let me
get that radio.

( Turns off )

- Mr. Edward Ackers?
- Yeah?

It's quite a place
you have here.

I'm from the "tribune."

- My name is Jonathan Saltzman.
- I already subscribe
to the "tribune."

( Laughs )

Oh, no, sir.
You don't understand.

I'm a reporter...

And I'm doing a piece on
the criminal justice system.

And no one's experience
typifies what I'm writing about

more than yours.

You were the jury foreman
at the Whitman trial.

How do you know that?

That was never supposed
to be made public.

( Chuckles )

Do you mind
if I close this

- so we can have a
bit more privacy?
- Yeah, I do mind.

Hey, I don't want
to talk to you.

Especially about
that trial.

I put that son of a bitch
where he belongs,

that's all there
is to it.

( Yells )

Not quite all.

Never eat spinach quiche
after 9:00 at night.

( Chuckles )

Oh.

Anyway, I want to welcome
you to the division.

I requested you
from Oceanside

because of your academic
background in psychology.

I'm assigning you
to inspector Morrell.

Oh, I'd be honored to work
with inspector Morrell.

He's been behind a
desk for a while,

but I want to put him back
in the saddle with you.

I'm warning you, he has these
muscle spasms occasionally,

but don't let that
freak you out

because he's still one
of my best detectives.

Sir, I'm well aware
of his reputation.
( Chuckles )

I'm a little concerned
about him and,

- see, we look after
our own here, Ricci.
- Yes, sir.

So go pick him up,

and the next case
up is yours.

Thank you, sir.

( Knocking )

Hello?

Inspector Morrell?

Inspector Morrell?

( Cocks gun )

No! Don't do it!

What the fuck?

( Breathing heavily )
Your gun.

I thought you
were going to
shoot yourself.

- Who the hell are you?
- Detective sergeant Ricci.

Your door was open.

My door is open because
the lock is busted

and the super's
going to fix it.

What were you doing
with that?

I was cleaning my weapon.
Is there a law against that?

- In here?
- In here, the light
is good--

look, lady,
how can I help you?

Sorry, sir.
I'm your new partner.

( Laughing, chattering )

( Banging )

God damn it.

Fuck.

Hey! Don't play
around here!

Stupid-ass kids.

What, you never
heard of knocking?

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck you think
you are coming in--

( grunting )

Come here,
sit down.

Easy, man.

If you want my stash,
you can have it.
It's right there.

- Take it, it's right there.
- Shut up.

You're still the sniveling
little weasel, I see.

Good to see ya.

I need a place to operate
from for a few weeks.

This'll do.

Who are you?

Ricci:
Excuse me, sir, but...

The guys at the
precinct must've been
jerking me around.

They said you caught Whitman
by biting his nose off.

Didn't do any good,
doctors set it right back on.

Why'd he do that
to his victims?

I mean, kill them the way
saints were martyred?

Whitman was
a biblical scholar.

Very respected,
very psychotic.

His father was a minister

and he beat his wife
for having imagined affairs,

he didn't believe his kids
were his own kids,

and he made their
lives a living hell, okay?

The mother did
nothing to help?

No, she was too afraid.

So Whitman killed
all those women

because he hated his mother
for not saving him.

It's called
displacement rage.

Sounds like we been
reading the same books.

( Laughs )
I'm interested
in people.

They're like puzzles.

I mean, you for instance.

They say you studied
to be a priest,

memorized the Bible
word for word.

That's how you decoded
the chapter and verse quotes

Whitman left on the bodies,

how you found his hideout.

Ricci, where's this going?

Nowhere, sir.
I just--

I just wanted you
to know I was

honored to be your
new partner.

You'll get over
that real soon.

( Chuckles )

( Radio chatter )

Officer:
I got plates
on all of these.

Hello, Ricci.

- How ya feel?
- Got my new suit on,
I'm ready.

Good.

After you take
a look inside,

let me know if you
really want this case.

I need your mind
on this one,

but if you have
the slightest doubt

I'll put you on
something else

and bring in
wisher and Miller.
All right?

- Yeah, I'm ready.
- Okay.

Did someone move the body?

Yeah, the killer.

Oh.

Elmo.

Elmo?

His name is Edward Ackers,
retired tool-die worker.

St. Elmo.

What the hell are
you talking about?

Don:
He was the patron Saint
of sailors.

He was martyred.

They...

Found his intestines
around the windlass.

I've never heard of him.

Someone want to get me
a ladder, please?

What's it say?

Corinthians...

- 15:21.
- What does it mean?

"Since by man came death.

By man came also the
resurrection of the dead."

( Beeps )

( Water boiling )

Don't worry, it'll be
over in one second.

( Phone rings )

Hello?

- Miss Sandra Carlow?
- Yes?

Hi, my name's
John Saltzman.

I'm a reporter
from the "tribune."

Um...

Yeah, that would be fine.

In a few minutes.
John Saltzman?

( Doorbell rings )

Hi, John Saltzman.

Thanks for seeing me
on such short notice.

I won't take more than a few
minutes out of your life.

- Please come in.
- Thank you.

You said something
about a story about me.

Oh, yes.
Well, actually,
it's a story about

the flaws in our
criminal justice system.

You were a member of the jury
in the Whitman trial and--

oh, my god. No, I don't
want to talk about that.

All the members of the jury
agreed never to go public.

It was just such a...

Awful experience.
We just wanted to forget.

Hmm, I understand.

Well, sometimes these things
do come back to haunt you.

( Water hissing )

Excuse me, I have a
lobster on the stove.

Would you like
a cup of coff--

no, thanks,
caffeine makes me edgy.

( Screams )

( Grunts )

( Whimpering )

No, no.

( Whimpering )

Please don't kill me.

I'll do anything.

Yes, yes. I know
you'll do anything.

So, let's
start with this.

( Dialing )

If I knew what this
was gonna be,

I never would've
called you in on it.

You don't think
I can handle it?

Look, all I'm saying is

a Whitman copycat should
not be your next case.

Personally, I think
you're wrong.

I mean, Whitman
never killed a man,
and I don't--

I don't think it's a copycat,
I think it's something
different.

He arranged a body to
look like a martyred
Saint, didn't he?

Yeah, but that's M.O.
M.O. Can change depending
on the circumstances.

Signature remains static.

Whitman's signature
was to punish women.

You need me on this.
Let me do it.

You don't sound like
you really want it.

Maybe that's why I need it.

Okay, it's all yours.

But things start to fall apart,
you come talk to me, all right?

Yeah.

( Crying )
No.

It's me, baby bear.

Sandra?

What?
( Chuckles )

Honey, looks like our dinner's
making a break for it.

Sandra?

Jesus, Sandra.
What'd you spill?

We just cleaned
the carpets.

Oh, my god.
Sandra--

( grunts )

( Body thuds )

( Chattering )

What about the eyebrows?

( Scoffs )
Eyebrows.

Look, I told you I only saw
the guy through my window

and his back was turned

and he was all the way
on the other side
of the street.

- You got a computer?
- Yeah, sure.

Good. You know those programs
where you can digitize

- and enhance an image?
- Yeah, I got one of those.

Tell you what
I want you to do.

I want you to
close your eyes,

in your mind, I want
you to zoom in,

add a little light,
tell me what you get.

Yeah, right.

Hey, work with me.
It's a lot easier to
concentrate here

than it is down
at the station.

- Are you serious?
- Take a long time there.

All day, all night.
It's dirty, funky...

Okay, fine.
What do I gotta do?

- Ricci: Amazing technique.
- Don: Yeah, well,
it rarely ever works.

Yeah, but the way
you did it, you really
know how to do that.

Come on, Ricci.
Give me a break.
Will ya?

I'm a regular guy.
No better than you.
Okay?

Okay.

If it's okay with you,

I'd like to get back to
the station now, okay?

We'll put this psychopath
on the F.B.I. Computer,

- see if he's wanted for
anything anywhere else.
- Okay.

- I'll get it.
- Hey, I can do it myself.

I didn't mean
to yell at you.

I know, sir.

Officer over radio:
Attention, fugitive retrieval.

We have a possible
suspect match

that has just been posted
to the FBI databank.
Check it out.

( Beeping )

( Beeping )

San Diego.
Shit.

* danger waits

* for you again...

- ( Both breathing heavily )
- * someone takes the fall

* you cannot be

* this is the end

* I cannot think at all...

You must be back on a case.

Brilliant deduction,
counselor.

Well, you don't live
with a man for four years

and not get to know him.

Honey, what are you
working on?

Believe me,
you don't want to know.

- I do.
- No, you don't.

- Yes.
- Okay, I...

I plead the fifth.

( Laughs )
Sorry,

that does not work here.

Only in the courtroom.

Some fool is
copycatting Whitman.

( Speaks Spanish )

I can't.
Because I'm on call.

Because I'm on a case.

( Sighs )
Don't start that
again, Eddie.

This is what I want
to do with my life.

I can't believe
you just said that.

( Phone rings )

Listen,
you son of a bitch.

You can't call me
a cold bitch...

Captain Barnett.

( Chuckles )
I'm sorry--

yes, sir, I didn't--

yes, sir.

( Hangs up )

I can handle it.

Don, don't stay on this.

- Why?
- Because it will break you.

I'm not going to break
this time.

I'm gonna bend,
I'm gonna be flexible.
You'll see.

You're gonna be stubborn
is what you're gonna be.

Sweetie, you can't go
through this alone.

I'm not alone.

I got a--

I have a caring boss.
I have a new partner,

a little blonde lady
from Texas.

I have this fine ex-wife

who invites me to dinner
and I get to be the dinner.

( Laughs )

Maybe we ought to
get married again.

( Phone ringing )

Maybe not.

Morning.
There's no forced entry.
This way.

Hang on to your breakfast,
it ain't pretty.

The husband.

This guy's an afterthought.
What else you got?

Oh, god.
He took her breasts.

- St. Agatha.
- Who?

Martyred Saint.

Romans cut off her breasts
because she was a Christian.

Miraculously, she survived.

Carried them around before
her on a platter

- praising god.
- How do you know this?

I'm a catholic, I never
even heard of that.

For years,
scholars thought that

early depictions showed Agatha
carrying bells on a platter.

So they made her the patron
Saint of bell ringers.

John 20:9.

"For as yet, they did
not know the scripture,

that he had risen again
from the dead."

John Matthew
Whitman's M.O.

Oh, there you are.
This is agent Norwood,
F.B.I.

The local office offered us
his services as a profiler.

I figured we need all
the help we can get.

This is inspector Morrell
and detective sergeant Ricci.

Welcome to the team.

Whitman used any
method possible

to subdue his victim
and then

stage the crime scene
to mirror another martyred
Saint's death.

Hmm. So his method
of operation was variable,

but his signature
was static.

You two guys are going
to get along great.

- Norwood: Anything?
- Nope.

Why don't you...

Check the garbage
for discarded papers?

- Norwood, I don't
work for you.
- Hey, hey.

We got something here.

"Saltzman, 'tribune.'"

"jury interview."

You check Saltzman's alibi?

Backwards and forwards,
he's cool.

So the killer poses as
a reporter to gain entry.

But what about Whitman's
jury reference?

We talked to
the courthouse.

Sandra Carlow was a member
of the jury,

and guess who else
was on the list?

- Ackers?
- You got it.

Right, so the copycat
knocked them off

because they
convicted his hero.

He might be going after
the other jurors.

Their identities have never
been made public,

- how could somebody
get their names?
- We'll check that.

I don't get this.
Why wait until now to
start offing jurors?

Whitman's younger
brother, Noah,

he always felt like
he grew up in his older
brother's shadow.

He just got paroled
a month ago.

Maybe this is his
own sick way of stepping
into the light.

Bring the son of a bitch in.

- Hey, where did Norwood go?
- I don't know.

We're definitely
not gonna wait for his ass.

- Okay.
- Go.

Child:
Give me the ball.

I want the ball.

Better let me go first.
He doesn't know me.

I don't think
that's a good idea.

- You know best, right?
- Right, put this on.

( Children laughing )

Hey, come here.
Come here.

Come here, little lady.
Come here, son.

- I want you guys to
take this money.
- Both: Thank you.

And go over there
and play.

Don't make any noise,
okay? Go on.

Child:
He gave us real money.

What's he doing?

( Grunts )

- Move in! Move in!
-Ricci: Morrell, watch out!

He's getting out the window.
Stay with Norwood.

- Are you hit?
- No, the vest caught it. Go!

Down!

Down.

( Grunts )

( Grunting )

( Grunts )
What the?

Down!

Go on.

Noah!

( Gasping )

Noah, you're not
going to make it, man.

You got no reason to lie,
tell me the truth--

did you kill those jurors?

Fuck you.

Your time'll come.

Your time is right now, man.
Make your peace.

Do it clean now.
Did you kill those jurors?

This time...
( Laughs )

You won't catch him.

( Laughs )

( Gasps )

( Sirens wailing )

( Radio chatter )

He didn't give you
a choice, you know.

Yeah, I know.

- You saved my life.
- And you owe me dinner.

( Laughs )
Shouldn't we be celebrating?

- We got him.
- Tell you something
about Noah.

Noah's one taco short
of a combo plate.

That boy's damaged goods.

He's not the one we
should be looking for.

Why did he run?

Look at all
this drug shit.

He's like Nino Brown
as trailer park trash.

He gets busted
with this,

he goes to jail for life,
and he knows it.

Maybe he figures by running,
he's got nothing to lose.

Then who else
could it be?

Well, the other bed's
been slept in.

Noah had company.

Maybe we should be looking
for them.

You may be right.

Give me the prints
on this place,

I'll run them through
the bureau's computer.

We'll see who comes out.

Let me ask you a question.
Why didn't you wait for us?

- I didn't want to lose him.
- You didn't want to lose him?

Seems to me like you
wanted the man dead.

He went for his shotgun.

Same as you,
I didn't have a choice.

( Siren blaring,
radio chatter )

( Grunting )

Very good, Julie.

Oh, your time's up.

Good job, Julie.
See you next week.

Bye-bye.

- Henry dang.
- Yes.

I remember you.

You were the one who
always scowled at me.

- I never saw you
before in my life.
- ( Chuckles )

Do you think you can
teach me that throw?

( Chuckles )
Look, we're closed.

Why don't you make
an appointment?

( Laughs ) Come on,
you're pretty good at
throwing girls around.

- How about a man?
- Don't do that.

Come on, Henry.
Show me what you got.

( Yells )

You asked for that!

( Groans )
That was pretty good.

Ow.

( Chuckling )
You think you could

show me that again?

( Yells )

( Grunting )

I lost someone real
close to me today.

I need to let off
a little steam.

( Screams )

( Grunting )

Come on.

- ( Bone cracks )
- ( Screams )

( Whimpering )

Oh, god.
God, no.

God, no.

- Do you believe in god?
- Yes.

Tell him I said hello.

( Gurgles )

- ( Answering machine beeps )
- You have two calls.

First call, 10:30 am.

Charlotte:
What a night we had.

I'm having trouble
concentrating on work.

We need to talk about it.

Maybe this time we
can make it work?
Call me.

Answering machine:
Second call, 5:43 pm.

( Sandra weeping )
Hello?

Please...

I'm very angry with you.

You stopped me

from doing
the lord's calling,

and you will be punished
for that.

( Sobbing )
As will all the others.

His will be done.

Don:
I got a call from
Sandra Carlow yesterday.

Around the time
she was killed.

I don't understand.
Did she know you?

No. I got a feeling her
murderer did, though.

Well, you were all over
the front pages when you
caught Whitman.

If the copycat is
after the jurors,

sooner or later he's
going to go after the
arresting detective.

- "Your time will come."
- What?

"Your time will come,"
Noah's last words, remember?

And then he said
something about...

What was it?
Oh, "this time you
won't catch him."

( Phone rings )

Ricci?

Yes, sir. We are.

Oh.

Okay, sir.

Yes, sir.
We'll be right there.

( Beeps )

You were right.
It wasn't Noah.

They just found another
Whitman juror, Henry dang.

He had his eyes,
lips and tongue cut out.

St. Leger.

They found
a biblical quote.

Revelations 14:3.
Do you know it?

"I am...

I am he that liveth
and was dead.

And behold,

I am alive forevermore
and have the keys to

hell and death."

This psychopath is trying
to tell us something.

He's resurrecting
Whitman's crimes?

- Turn the car around.
- But the crime scene's
this way.

Yeah, we're not going
to go to the crime scene.
Turn around.

- Where are we going?
- We're going to go to
the hall of records.

Okay.

Did you find anything?

No, are you sure
the jury list is supposed
to be in here?

- Should be in there.
- Well, it's not.

He must have stolen it.
Excuse me, miss?

I need a printout
of the jury list

and anyone affiliated
with the case including
attorneys, lawyers.

I need addresses,
phone numbers, place
of business, please.

Fax it to this number.

It's very important.
Thank you very much.

This is from the original
Whitman case,

this is from Acker's body.

Is it a forgery?

I had a specialist
look at it.

He said if it's a forgery,
it's the best he's ever seen.

Check this out.

Sandra:
You stopped me

from doing the
lord's calling,

and you will be punished
for that.

( Sobbing )
As will all the others.

His will be done.

All right, all right.
So what are we saying here?

Are we saying that--

that the murderer
is not a copycat?

That he is
John Matthew Whitman?

These are the best
forgeries I've ever seen.

Hell, maybe that's why
it took so long

for this guy
to get started.

He was perfecting
his hand.

And this call, well,

the sick fuck knows
who you are, Don.
That's all.

We can use that to draw
this copycat out.

I don't know why,
but...

I think this is more
than a copycat.

I know what you're
going to think, but I want
to exhume Whitman's body.

I want to see it.
I want to see it with
my own eyes.

I want to know.

As soon as I knew
the Whitman connection,

I should have transferred
you off this case.

But I can
correct my mistake.

I'm putting you back
on desk duty.

Ricci will be
transferred.

- She'll be reassigned to
wisher and Miller.
- No, no.

- They'll carry on--
- you need me on this case.
You need me on it.

Don,
I can't do it.

Your career,
your mental health
is at risk.

I want you to go home.
Don't worry about this.

We'll get the
son of a bitch.

It'll all be over
and done with.

It was supposed
to be over and done
with a year ago.

A year ago.

- I thought you're supposed
to be watching him.
- I was.

Then why didn't you come
to me sooner and tell me
that he's cracking up?

Because he wasn't, sir.

( Sighs )

I'll keep you updated
about the case, sir.

You won't miss a thing.

Let me give you a ride home,
inspector Morrell.

Inspector Morrell?
Don!

Ricci:
I'm a pretty good
detective, you know.

I know you've been
married before.

Now how do you know
I haven't been a bachelor
all my life?

I read your personal file.

All right, but deductive
logic is only going
to get you so far.

You got any good
corroborating evidence
to support your theory?

Yeah, but it's
only anecdotal.

Okay, go ahead
and drop it.

We're all
friends here.

Well, I know how hard it
is to do this job right

and still have
a personal life.

Now you sound like
a smart lady speaking
from experience.

Thank you.

The only thing
I don't understand is

why you decided to become
a cop instead of a priest.

Hmm.

- Sorry.
- No, that's okay.

When I was a kid,
I saw a lot of good
people getting--

getting hurt.

And I thought maybe by being
a cop I could sort of

take up arms against
the sea of trouble,
so to speak.

What about you?

I like to knock
down doors.

( Both chuckle )

What?

All these
Whitman jurors, right?

This guy's going
after them one by one.

He's trying
to copycat Whitman.

He'd be as methodical
and as obsessive-compulsive
as Whitman was,

- wouldn't he?
- What do you mean?

I mean Whitman used to

kill his victims
in alphabetical order.

So then next on the
list would be Greer.

Denise Greer.

I'm going to stake her out.

You can't.
You're off the case.

Listen, I'll get a hold
of Miller and wisher,

- and we'll get
on it right away.
- You don't understand.

Those guys,
they're by the book.

It would take you all day to
convince them of your theory,

and even if you do,
all night to set up
surveillance.

This guy's killing, what,
a victim a day? Right?

So someone's going
to die right about now.

We got her address,
we got her phone number,

we got her place of work.

I'm going to do this.

Hey! You can't do
this without me!

Come on!

- Okay, thank you very much.
- ( Phone beeps )

Her boss says she's off
today and tomorrow.

Want me to try
her machine again?

No, she would
have answered by now.

Maybe she's out
with friends.

Or making love
to her boyfriend.

Yeah, or laying in a pool
of her own blood.

Wait, wait!

- Great.
- ( Engine starts )

The athletic type.

There she goes.

Where is she?

Should we take him?

No, no, no.
She knows this guy.

This is not going
to be easy.

She went left.

What are you doing?

I think she saw us.
I'm going to give the
lady a little distance.

Ricci over radio:
There she goes.
Don't lose her.

- You see him?
- Yeah.

Ricci over radio:
He is definitely
following her.

( Brakes screech )

( Screams )

- ( Grunts )
- Oh, my god!

- Oh, my god!
Don't hurt him!
- I'm a cop.

- Who the fuck are you?
- He's my boyfriend.
I couldn't hear him.

He was trying
to catch up with me.
I couldn't hear him.

No, no! Norwood.
Norwood! Put the gun down,
man, put it down!

He's the wrong guy, okay?
Put the gun down.

All right, lady,
I'm sorry.

Okay, big mistake.

Big fucking mistake, man.
I'm sorry.

Very sorry.
Very sorry.

Can I see you for
a minute, please?

I got a guy--

I got a fucking guy
in police custody, right?

- And you try to pop him.
What's with that?
- I'm sorry.

I couldn't tell whether
or not you had the situation
under control.

Under control?
You wouldn't even know
about the situation

unless you were what?
Tailing us, man?

I told them it was
mistaken identity.

They're shaken up,
but they're buying it.

They won't file a complaint.
Her boyfriend's going
to take her home.

No, we gotta keep her
under surveillance.

This is bullshit, man.
We'll call captain Barnett,

we'll put our
own people on it.
Thank you very much.

Wait, wait a minute.
Now look.

This killer can easily evade
normal police protection.

- Norwood, who is this guy?
- Look, I can't tell you that.

If I did, I'd be opening
myself up to prosecution--

if you don't fucking talk
to me now, I'll rip out
your fucking spine!

- Hey! Hey!
- How's that? How's that?

Hey!

We all want this guy.

Whatever you tell us
stays with us.

The man we think is
replicating Whitman's crimes

is Steven Lloyd Schmidt.

He's an F.B.I. Field man.
He's gone rogue.

It's what C.I.A. Calls
blowback, and it's their
worst nightmare.

( Sighs )
Once he enters into
the civilian population,

it becomes the bureau's
responsibility to cover
up the mess.

And so they assigned me to
head up the search team.

Why would Schmidt
copycat Whitman?

Well, evidently Schmidt
was a big fan of
serial killers.

And before he was recruited,
the C.I.A. Seems to think

he may have acted as
a kind of avenging angel

- for the few he was
particularly fond of.
- Jesus!

So what you're telling us
is they turned some

serial killer into some
super assassin and let him
loose on the world?

No, I am telling you
I want this guy

just as badly as you want him.
But it's not going to be easy.

He is an expert in
low-cover operations.

Now, we do have
one advantage.

- The jogging girl.
- I think he's going to go
for her sometime tonight.

But if he shows up and
the police are watching her,

he's going to go under
deep cover and we'll
never see him again.

He'll resurface and kill
somewhere else.

- So what are we gonna do?
- Well...

I can stay here tonight
and watch her house.

If nothing happens,
I'll call you tomorrow.
You can relieve me.

Either way, one of us
is going to get him.

Don:
You know what?
I don't buy it.

I think this Schmidt knows
way damn too much about Whitman.

I think Norwood is shoveling
a new grade of manure.

For all we know,
Schmidt could be hitting
another juror right now.

He's going in alphabetical
order, right?

But what if the list
didn't just include jurors?

What if it had
court personnel?

Then...

- Then judge--
- Paul Gant.

Okay, alphabetically,
Gant is before Greer.

Shouldn't we
call Norwood?

Hell, no! Let Norwood stay
with the jogging babe.

- Is Gant answering?
- No, it's just the machine.

( Dance music playing )

* you turn me on, baby,
you lead me on, baby... *

( laughing )

( Chattering )

Thank you.

Man:
How ya doin'?

Over here, Bobby!

( Dialing )

- Who you calling now?
-My ex-wife.

- ( Phone ringing )
- Hola, Nina. It's me.

Listen, I need
a little favor.

You know anything about
a judge Gant? Paul Gant?

Where he might hang out?
Where I could find him?

Any habits, anything?

Really?

Okay.
You're serious?

- Okay, sweetie, thank you.
- ( Phone beeps )

You're going to love this.

Gant frequents the gay clubs
on the West Side of town.

( Dance music playing )

I'm just saying why
don't we get a bottle
of wine and go home?

- Oh, let's get
a bottle at Mo's.
- Oh, all right.

* you set
my soul on fire *

* you set my soul
on fire *

* you set
my soul on fire *

* you set my soul
on fire... *

man:
This place is yummy.

- Hi.
- Hey.

Can I buy you another?

Sure, if I can return the favor.
What are you drinking?

I'll have a bloody Mary.

Inspector Morrell here.

I want you to run all
vehicles registered to
a Paul Gant, San Diego.

- Don't I know you?
- Yes, you do.

I would of
remembered you.

( Chuckles )

- I never forgot you.
- Really?

That makes me very happy.

What do you say
we get out of here?

All these fags
make me nervous.

( Laughs )
I'm with you.

Man:
I got it here.
License: 4-c-g-e-413.

1999 green
Lincoln town car.

- Roger that, thanks.
- Great, where do we start?

All right, turn up this
street right here.

- Where do I know you from?
- Guess.

- A nightclub.
- ( Laughs ) You'll have
to do better than that.

Come on, give me a hint.

- What are we playing,
hide and seek?
- I can do that.

( Chuckles )

Hello?

Yeah, hey, Mark.

It's me, Morrell.
Listen, I need a favor.

No, it's important.
I need to locate a vehicle.

It's a 1999
green Lincoln town car,

license plate:
Four, Charlie, Gulf, echo,

4-1-3.

Who you talking to?

A buddy of mine at
LoJack central.

If Gant has a tracker
in his car,

he might be able to
pinpoint him for us.

Come on,
give me another hint.

- ( Laughs )
- I'll get it.

You'll get it, all right.

Oh, beautiful.
Great, man, great.

West on university.

I appreciate it, bro.
Great, man.

Ricci:
Okay, we're almost there.
What's next?

We're gonna make
a left on 10th.

Left on 10th.

You know,
I really like you.

But you gotta tell
me who you are.

( Chuckles )

Guess.

What are you doing?

You want to hurt
somebody, is that it?

You want money?
Take the car.

I don't want your car.

You like to play rough,
is that it?

You'd probably like
that, wouldn't you?

How'd they ever let a sick,

god-cursed sodomite
like you judge anybody?

Were you up before me?
Is that it?

That's right,
your honor.

His will be done.

( Gags )

Yeah, in the alley, okay.

Somewhere around here.

That's him.
That's him right there.
Back up.

( Tires squealing )

Shit.

( Mumbling )

No, no. Go back down.
Wait for backup.

- I'll track this guy.
- Yes, sir.

( Gunshot )

Police!

Put your weapon down!

I know who you are.

Question is,
do you know who I am?

I know all about
you, Schmidt.

I think you know by now
that's not my real name.

You're forcing me to change
the order of kill, Morrell.

Your name's further
down the list.

Morrell!

Come out of there
and drop that weapon or
I'll blow her head off.

Ricci:
Don't do it, Don.

I'll kill this bitch.

You fucking do that,
I swear I'll shoot you, man.

Something wrong
with your hand, Morrell?

Come on!

Fuck it.
Fuck it, okay.

Fuck it. Fuck it.
All right.

Take me instead, man.

I'm on your list.
She's not on your list.

Let the lady go.
Let her go.

You're right.

She's not on the list.

I'll let her go.

- No!
- ( Screams )

Ricci!

No!
( Grunts )

God damn it!
He had this escape
route planned out.

You still tailing us?
This fun for you?

You're still tailing
us, huh?

( Radio chatter )

They've gotta take
her now, Don.

You're supposed
to be riding a desk.

- Where the hell were you?
- Norwood is involved in this.

Fuck Norwood!
I don't give a shit
about Norwood!

You got Ricci involved
and now she's dead.

First thing tomorrow morning,
I want you in my office.

First thing!

( Siren blaring )

I'd like to see
agent Norwood, please.

- One moment,
I'll see if he's in.
- Thank you.

Hello.
Can I help you?

Well, I asked to see
agent Norwood.

Yes, I'm Norwood.

Can I see some I.D.,
please?

What's this all about?

Thanks.

- I saw his badge.
- Well, obviously
it was a fake.

- Then who the hell was he?
- He's all part of
this operation.

- What operation?
- The operation
to revive Whitman.

Oh, come on. Don't start
with that again.

Look, I made calls.

After Whitman's death,
his body was cremated.

There's no damn way
to confirm his death.

Were you not
a witness at his execution?
Did you not see him die?

- I saw him appear to die,
but it could've been faked.
- By who?

Whitman's executioner
was a doctor brought in
from the outside

to replace the one
the prison usually uses
at the very last minute.

In all these
biblical references,

they all refer to rebirth
and resurrection.

These jurors will be
properly protected.

We'll get this copycat
by the book.

Man, you're not
listening to me.

- The handwriting,
it matches--
- enough!

You and I, we came up
from the same streets.

I mean, you're like
a son to me.

But I'm officially
suspending you as of now.

And I'll be asking for
a medical leave for you.

- My arm's fine.
- It's not your shoulder
I'm talking about.

I've never been saner
in my life.

Then you'll hand over
your gun and your badge

without making a scene.

( Groans )

Greer, Greer.

She should've been next.

( Phone dialing )

( Phone ringing )

- Hello?
- Baby, thank god
you're home.

Hey, baby,
I just walked in.

Okay, did you lock
your doors?

- They are locked.
- Check them out, all right?

- And check the windows, too.
- What's going on?

Just do it, okay?
Do it.

Listen to me,
check those windows.

I'm checking.

Did you check the windows,
honey?

Can you tell me what this
is about?

Listen, I don't mean
to scare you, but...

I think someone might
be coming after you tonight.

After me? Who?

Listen, you still got
that gun I gave you?

Okay, you are scaring me.

What is going on?

Remember when
we got divorced?

You went back to--
you went back to using
your maiden name?

- Whitman knows that.
- Whitman?

- Whitman is dead.
- No, no, honey.

It's too complicated to
explain over the phone.
I'm on my way.

( Grunting )

Don? What's going on?
Don?

Hello? Don?

( Groans )

( Gasping )

- Oh, fuck.
- Don?

- Hi.
- ( Screams )

- Whitman is Schmidt, isn't he?
- Call a goddamn ambulance!

- He's Schmidt, isn't he?
- Yes.

- You faked his death.
- Yes.

- But his face, what--
- it's plastic surgery.

And who are you?

When the agency can't
get something legally,
I provide it.

You provide killers?

No, I build assassins.

I strip their personalities,
then I give them a new one.

And Whitman was
a perfect candidate.

He had the perfect
psychotic basis,

- but he faked his way
through the reorientation.
-You lost control, huh?

I don't know who's
a sicker motherfucker,
you or Whitman.

You used us to get
to him, didn't you?

You had to eliminate him
and everyone who knew
the truth, right?

Right?

- Yeah, something like that.
- Good.

( Dialing )

Yeah.

Yeah, emergency?

I'm going to need
an ambulance.

( Body thuds )

Don't sweat
the ambulance.

You've reached
Charlotte hart,

please leave a message
after the beep.

( Beeps )

Charlotte, baby, it's me.

Pick up, honey.
I can't reach you on
your cell phone.

Charlotte, pick up.
Charlotte.

( Phone beeps )

Charlotte.
Charlotte?

Charlotte!

Charlotte!
Charlotte!

( Phone ringing )

-Yeah?
- Donnie.

Baby, where are you?
I told you to stay here.

( Crying )
Donnie, I'm sorry.

He was already
in the house.

Shit, put him
on the phone.

Let me talk to him.

- Hello, Morrell.
- Give me an address.

Come on, no games.
It's me you want.

Okay, it's your world.
You're running the show.
There's nothing I can do.

Okay, I'm ready to receive
your punishment.

It is not my punishment,
Morrell.

You stayed the hand
of vengeance.

You smote my brother.

Your ex-wife took my life.

Is it not heavenly
retribution that I should
take both of yours?

Look, you want this to end?
I want it to end, man.

- Give me an address.
- ( Chuckles )

Luke, 15:11.

Uh, prodigal son--

prodigal son returns home.

Home!
You're at the ranch!

Give the altar boy
a plastic Saint.

Whitman,
it's not her you want.

It's me.
All right?

Come alone and I might
let her live.

( Beeps )

Whitman! Damn!

Listen, i-I'm sure god--

god will forgive
you for this.
( Crying )

No.

No, please.

( Nail clanks )

( Crying )

Charlotte!

Charlotte!

( Both grunting )

- ( Screams )
- Slide that gun
over here now

or I'll nail her head
to the cross.

Do it now!

You better not fucking
touch her.

How do you like
my new face?

You know, I was
sorry that they

removed that scar on
my nose you gave me.

It had character.

- Let her go.
- ( Sobbing )

She must face
her retribution.

- As you will.
- Fuck that!

What about your
retribution, Whitman?

I punish those who sought
to end my divine mission.

Those women and those people
you killed were innocent.

They were sinners!

Temptresses!

Fornicators!

Just like your mother.
That's it, right?

( Charlotte sobbing )

Like all women.

Your mother
was innocent, too.

You know nothing about it.

I know a lot more
than you think.

Your father was beating
her, wasn't he?

Because she was
an adulteress.

Because she was trying to
protect you from him, right?

My father was a holy man.

We were sinners.

Unworthy.

He was trying to save
our immortal souls.

Wrong!

Your father was
the sinner, Whitman!

- You're too
traumatized to remember.
- Remember what?

Leviticus 18:22.

My father never had sex
with a man!

No, he didn't.

With you.
With a little boy.

No!

( Screams )

Liar!

You could've laid me low.

Like tarsus.

I am invincible
in the lord.

His will be done.

( Grunts )

Whore of Babylon!

Prepare to meet thy maker!

Whitman! Whitman!

( Grunts )

( Groans )

Okay, Princess,
get this on.

You okay?
You okay? Huh?

This time...

- You ain't coming back.
- No.

( Sirens wailing )

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

- You did it.
- No.

He gave himself up to me.

He reminded me of tarsus.

Who's tarsus?

A martyr, they impaled
him on a cross.

Patron Saint of
abused children.

"His will be done."

( Instrumental music playing )