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Wait.

Wait, ah.

Wait!

Ugh.

Well, aren't you
glad I cleaned my mirrors

this morning, Walden?

Yes, Annie.

Very pristine.

You have all made
it through the previous rounds,

along with your counterparts
in New York City, Los Angeles,

and Chicago, where I add, the
competition is substantial.

Your quest to beat
the world record

of 360 words per minute, held
by Mark Kislingbury, begins.

Open your stenos, please.

This document has a
total of 361 words.

You have 60 seconds
beginning now.

Atlanta, Supreme Court, the
people of Georgia versus Steven

Earl Brown charged with
two counts of arson,

resulting in the
destruction of property

on the amount of $2.6 million.

The defendant was arrested
at 3:30 AM, June 25, 2016,

and was taken to County jail.

Mr Brown, after
questioning, signed

a full statement, admitting to
the crimes he was subsequently

charged with, but
has since recanted

said statement and
stands before this court

in appeal of said charges.

The people of Georgia have
submitted all evidence along

with first hand
witness statements

and expect the court to decide.

Time.

343, Ms. Kindleman.

Mm.

Hey, Walden.

How did you do?

Did you win the competition?

Well, there's more
rounds to go, George.

You forgot your change, George.

You want your usual soda?

Oh, no. Thanks, Daisy.

I'm good.

I was going a little
too hard on the pop.

And those goblets
of carbonation are

just pure calories and sugar.

Nah, you look handsome.

Oh, no.

Don't you go getting
any ideas now, Daisy?

Oh.

Thank you, Daisy.

You're welcome.

Bye, Daisy.

Bye!

You know, the record's 360.

How many words did
you manage, Walden?

343.

I'm going to be late
for court, George.

That's only 17 less.

You won't like today's case.

Bad man.

Very bad man!

We are
living in a world

where we coexist
with evil as a norm.

Objection, Your Honor.

Don't object during
closing, Lloyd.

It's rude.

Miss Van Dries.

Thank you, Your Honor.

So when do we start
to punish such evil?

The pendulum must swing back to
some form of sanity, morality,

just downright goodness.

Norman Casey Bolt,
high on crack cocaine,

put his little three-year-old
daughter, Carmen,

into his oven, locked her in,
and cooked her into her body

was burned to the bone, for
washing her doll's hair.

We, the people in the
great state of Georgia,

reintroduced the death
penalty for one purpose only,

to rid society of pure evil.

Do you really want to send this
monster to a cot bed satellite

TV and three meals a day?

Thank you, Your Honor.

The defendant please stand.

Norman Casey Bolt, you have
been found guilty of the charge

of murder in the first degree.

This jury recommends
that you be given

the harshest sentence possible.

And given the heinous nature
of your crime, I concur.

Mr. Bolt, what is inside
a man that would make him

want to harm a child?

Your life will be
terminated at a date

to be determined by this court.

Halle-fucking-lujah.

Motherfuck...

Oh.

Clyde,
get this piece

of garbage out of my courtroom.

This ain't over.

Walden, lunch?

You all right?

Hey, I am fine.

I hear that junkie son of
a bitch was found guilty.

Yep.

Oh, that poor little girl.

She's come in here, all
bruised and beaten up,

sit at the counter,
eat her ice cream,

go home to another beating.

Usual, Judge?

Yeah, thanks.

Walden, you hungry?

Uhm, no, thanks, Madge.

I got a bit of a headache...

Ohh.

Just maybe a bit more coffee.

OK.

You're still trying
to break that 360?

Kindleman called me,
said the court ought

to upgrade your equipment.

Go digital, make
your life easier.

Yeah.

Maybe make hers
easier, maybe for hers.

Hmm, so dead set on winning
that competition anyway.

I mean, you know you
got this job for life.

Hell, Walden, I could blindfold
you and throw you down a well.

You'd never miss a word.

I like having something
to aim towards, you know?

Call it a hobby.

A nice girl would be
something to aim for, warm,

animated hobby.

Speaking of which.

Here is my sweetheart.

Oh.

How are you, Walden?

OK.

I'm fine.

Thank you, Mrs. Boyle.

Trying convince
Walden here that he

needs a warm hobby, instead of
some stenograph competition.

MADGEL I've been trying
to tell him that since he

got home from college.

He never listened to his mama.

No chance of him hearing me.

Your mama was a
fine lady, Walden.

Mm.

Ma'am, if she was
so fine, why did she

run off with my dad's brother?

Norman Casey Bolt, defiled his
little three-year-old daughter,

Carmen, put her into
his oven, locked her in,

and cooked her until she
was burned to the bone.

Dear Lord in Heaven,
I usually like

to kneel when I
pray to you, but I

find that difficult
to do tonight

when I see how that little girl
suffered while you were absent.

You being God and all, I
imagine you were busy dealing

with bigger things.

But is there?

I mean, bigger things, I mean?

You think child rape and murder
would just be off the table,

but...

I know, I know, I know,
free will, free will.

Sometimes I wish the will were
just a little bit less free.

Anyway, I'm rambling now.

Thank you for the food,
keeping most of us safe.

You send my prayers
to little Carmen now.

Good night.

Oh, God.

Mm.

Mm, hmm.

Mm.

Dr.
Foster, you are

needed in the emergency room.

- Dr. Foster...
- Mm-hmm.

You are
needed in the emergency room.

Mm-hmm.

Mr. Walden Dean?

Can you come with me please?

Deep breath.

What is it you do again?

Oh, uh, in layman's
terms, I'm a court reporter.

More accurately, referred
to as a stenographer.

So I'm quite focused for
long periods of the day.

How long have you
been doing this job?

Uh, about 14 years.

Well, everything checks out OK.

Is there a specific reason
that brings you here today?

Uhm, mostly just a
general feeling of malaise

and just feeling a bit off.

Have you fainted?

Fallen down?

Thrown up?

No, no, and yes, I have
thrown up a couple of times.

I just blamed it on
the stress of the job.

I see in here the darkest
of the dark in court.

So could that be a factor?

You know what I think?

I think it is stress related.

I can give you something
to relax you, if you...

No, no, no, I need to be sharp
for work and for other things.

Thank you, Doctor.

Stop her.

Please.

Stop who?

Please?

Stop her.

Excuse me, sir.

Ms. Temple, please

come to the reception desk.

Which nobody can

deny, which nobody can deny.

My boy is missing!

For
he's a jolly good fellow...

My boy is gone!

Somebody snatched my boy!

OK.

What's going on here?

Well, I put him
to bed myself, Bill.

I read him a story.

Called him to breakfast the next
morning and went to his room,

and he was gone.

What makes you think he's
been abducted, Mrs. Pepper?

Four boys have gone
missing from this here

vicinity over the last eight
years, mostly Mexican kids,

marginal and unimportant
to the law it hazard.

Now, now.

No kid is unimportant
to the law, Mrs. Pepper.

That there computer Cal's?

Yeah, it sure is.

I figured you'd
want to look at it.

He don't have no password.

He don't need one.

He's a clean boy.

All right.

We had to put the
dog down a couple of months

back, couldn't
afford the vet bills.

She was old.

I love that dog.

Yeah.

No, we did.

Bring
them home, Bill.

Bring my boy home.

Should we really
be sending this young woman

to prison for doing what she can
to feed her six-month-old baby?

A baby that will end
up with child services

and could be adopted
by God knows who?

I mean, maybe some
sick individual...

- Your Honor...
- Who thinks...

She is a known prostitute
who has given at least

six teenage boys around
the county herpes,

and God knows what else.

Ooh.

Little
loud, everybody.

Walden.

Walden.

Walden, did not tell
you to stop playing

with that fucking machine!

Walden?

Walden?

Mr. Dean, how are
you feeling right now?

OK, I guess.

The dizziness I
had before is gone.

I suppose I feel normal.

I'm a neurosurgeon, Mr. Dean.

I will probably want to do a
few more tests just to confirm

what the CT scan revealed.

CT scan?

Yes.

What showed up
was an abnormality

in your frontal lobe.

It's called a meningioma.

Meningioma?

I've heard that word before.

That's a brain tumor.

I know because we had a case...

I'm a stenographer...
Where the suspect

suffered from a meningioma.

She was stealing
clothes and jewelry

from a department store, acting
erratic, and causing harms,

and such.

At the peak of her
escalations, she

had removed all of her
clothing and covered

her body in her own feces before
being tased by a SWAT team.

She was understandably
sectioned off

to the criminal wing
of the insane asylum,

where she promptly died.

Jesus Christ.

Does this mean that
I'm going to die?

These tumors are mostly benign.

But we should operate
sooner than later

because these fainting
episodes will evolve.

What time is it?

It's 9:00 AM.

You were here overnight.

Wait, what? Oh, no!

Where's my steno?

I'm going to be late
for my competition.

Mr. Dean, hold on.

You need to take this seriously.

No, I will.

I just... not right now.

The case I'm about
to read has...

Mr. Dean, should you be here?

Why not?

Very well.

As I was saying,
this court case will read

for the required 361 words.

You have 60 seconds
starting now.

The crime of the murder occurred
during the outdoor concert

on the 1st of August 19...

Paramedics were
called to the scene,

but the victim had suffered
a... resulting in instant death.

As a result, the outdoor event
was immediately canceled,

and the police and the
suspect apprehended...

Time.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

That was impressive today.

351.

Anything inspire
you to up your game?

Mm, possibly, I don't know.

Are you sure?

What are you doing?

Being nosy.

Are you a Savant?

A Savant?

No, none at all.

Well, then explain yourself.

Your mental acumen,
your agility,

where does it come from?

Where do you come from?

Maybe I just want to
know who my competition

is because I got 314 today,
and that's my best score yet.

Oh.

Oh, so you're a
professional stenographer?

Yes.

Well, I was.

From New York City.

But I came home just to
slow my life down a tad,

and I use these
competitions to stay sharp

and to stave off apathy.

Your turn.

Well, my father and his
father were both stenographers,

five generations of Deans
have lived in Alexandria all

the way back to the Civil War.

Wow.

Five generations.

So this is your Daddy's machine?

Yes, it is.

It was.

He was a very talented,
very emotional stenographer.

Emotional?

You think that's necessary
to be a court reporter?

Well, of course.

I mean, you have to feel the
words, not just type them.

I knew you were a Savant.

Well, you know,
my father believed

words had a price, like
actions, but sometimes

with greater consequence.

Mm-hmm.

And...

Go on.

You know what?

You're right, ma'am.

You are nosy.

Mm.

It's miss.

It's miss, not ma'am.

And these would be?

These would be the
four missing boys.

Mrs. Pepper was talking about.

All Mexican, all aged
around 9, plus 3 more,

all disappeared within the
last 10 years, no results.

Seven kids?

Eight if you
count Cal Pepper.

Wow.

Would you look at that.

What?

You did a really good job.

Just read the damn file.

Daddy!

Oh.

Ohh.

Oh, sorry I've
missed the rehearsal.

- You're late.
- I know.

I know.

Sorry about that.

Well, hello
there, handsome.

Like a
hitman after dying.

Hi, Dad.

Walden.

Mind if I join you?

Well, by all means.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Usual soda, Walden?

Actually, this evening,
I think I'll have what

my dad is having, a whiskey.

Good Lord, are you
dying or something?

You don't drink.

I know.

Oh!

Well, here's to 361.

Good health, Pop.

Call it insane...

Hell boy, you just
grow a pair or something?

Whiskey's a man's drink.

Yeah, and how the
hell would he know?

Booze.

It's a good servant,
but a bad master.

Is that the reason you came here
before the start of the month?

No.

I actually came
to see if I could

convince you to move back into
the house just like old times.

Hell no.

Dad...

I left so that you could live.

Mm.

You know?

But now, I'm not
so sure, witnessing

such profoundly inconsistent
behavior, you know?

I know, but Dad, I was just
thinking that maybe, you know?

OK.

... don't never come...

Now, as a change of subject, I'm

going to beat that record, Pop.

What for?

And end up like this?

Oh.

Other than
a momentary wave

of hubris sweeping through,
what else does it bring?

Tell me.

You are just being
so negative right now.

Mm.

Mm.

Nope. No.

No. No.

I don't buy it.

It was you that taught
me to feel the word.

You, not just hear
it, not just write it.

You.

Stop it.

No one gives a damn.

Why should you?

I should... oh,
evening, Miss Daisy.

Hey, Walden.

Walden, honey, are you sure you
want to be drinking that stuff?

Oh, a little libation
to loosen the tongue

and open the heart never
hurt anyone, Daisy.

But right now, I need your
strongest over the counter

for a headache...

Give me your
fucking money bitch!

OK.

Back the fuck up, bruh!

- Hurry up!
- I am...

Give me the fucking
money, and hurry up!

- I'm trying.
- Check it out!

I'll blow your face off!

- Take it all out, hurry up!
- I am.

Give me the money.
Put it down.

Give me that shit.

Stupid motherfucker!

The fuck are you looking at?

Oh.

I'm sorry.

Oh.

I'm sorry.

Oh.

Hey, Walden.

Walden, are you all right?

Uhm, I feel really
bad, Detective.

As you can imagine, this
is not a regular occurrence.

In my life.

I saw that man's face shatter
into itty bitty pieces.

Yeah, yeah, I hear you.

I'm going to have to take
your statement, though,

but it can wait till tomorrow.

Uh, do you need a ride
home or something?

I'd like to walk
home if that's OK.

Is that misguided
gentlemen going to live?

He'll live to see you in court.

Well, given his
size and disposition,

I find very little
comfort in that.

Good night, detectives.

Not well.

I have no idea where
the tools are, Walden.

And why the hell do you want
to be doing the same boring job

as your daddy?

I
have to go out soon, honey.

I expect I won't be
back for a few hours.

Tell your dad his
dinner's in the fridge.

Mm?

You listening to me, honey?

I asked if you heard me, Walden?

Your eyelashes are fake.

Why?

Fuck you!

Can you please just...

OK?

I want a damn divorce.

- No, you're not... no!
- Yes.

No. No, never.

We are family.

Claire, please.

Claire, don't! Claire, don't!

Claire, don't go.

Claire, please!

Hey, I
guess you heard that.

She'll be back, son.

I hope not.

See you in the morning.

- I
- didn't want college to end,

but it kind of did when my
dad called me and told me

my mom was dead, killed
by some drunk driver, who

came out of nowhere.

They told my dad she
never suffered, that she

must have died instantly.

I knew he'd find solace
in that because he

never stopped missing her.

This does not
happen in small towns.

This might happen in LA.

- Does this happen in LA?
- Yep.

See?

It happens in LA, but it's
not supposed to happen here.

What are you doing here, Walden?

You guys told me to come
in and give a statement.

Is everything OK?

No.

No, everything is
not OK, Walden.

Norman Casey Bolt got released
today on a technicality.

What?

What technicality?

Brady violation.

Prosecution was supposed
to turn in evidence,

and they didn't, which is their
constitutional fucking duty.

So now he's a free man.

And adding insult to the
murder of his little girl,

he's back at his own house.

Hell, he even ordered
a brand new stove.

Your statement on
last night's robbery...

Pembleton!

Get
Walden's statement,

and if you excuse us, we have
to go welcome Bolt back to town.

Thank you.

Come see my new stove, Bill?

Nah.

We're just passing through.

What are you doing
there, Norman?

I'm just putting
these out for charity.

You know, the kids around here
be needing clothes, especially

in these, uh, difficult times.

I just want to let
you know we're going

to be passing through a lot.

Do you feel me?

Mm.

My door is always open.

Yeah, what are these
going to do for me?

Are these going to carry me?

No.

Well, it's damn near inevitable.

No.

Maybe I'll fucking hit him.

I could do that.

Yeah, they just drilled around
your fucking thing in there.

Boo!

Bottoms up.

Ah.

What the fuck, man?

Hey.

You need to know
that this isn't me.

But you should never have
gotten away with what you did.

Cut me fucking loose right now!

You know, I came here with
the intention to scare you.

And I saw with my own
eyes the degradation

that that poor little child
lived in up until the moment

you took her life, now
just how could anyone

let their own flesh
and blood sink so

hopelessly low until this,
all this became normal?

This is not normal!

This is the desanctification
of the human soul!

And quite frankly, sir,
you have to pay for that.

Wait, what
are you fucking... no!

Ohh!

Hello?

Walden, it's Bill.

Just drop Lizzie off at school.

Are you OK?

Uhm, yes.

Just, uh, talking
with my mouth full.

Mm.

I just wanted
to call you to let

you know that your statement
was cleared by the DA.

OK.

Uh, great.

Thanks.

Hey.

Did you hear about Bolt?

Uh, Bolt?

No, why?

What about him?

Somebody cooked his head
with his brand new stove.

Jeez, to have your head cooked?

Yeah, that sounds
horrifically painful.

Yeah,
maybe it's just karma.

Hmm, well, I don't
believe in karma,

but I'm pretty sure Satan's
got himself a new chew toy.

Sure we can agree
on that part, right, Bill?

If you say so, Walden.

Bye, bye.

Why is everyone standing around?

It's because they
know him, Detective.

It's Cal.

Shit.

Jesus, it's
a damn tragedy.

What is that?

Stop her.

Oh, shit.

Guys...

Cal!

Cal!

God, stop.

Cal!

Cal!

It's OK.

It's OK.

My boy!

What are you doing here?

Well, I saw the
Peppers speed by...

Oh.

What's that?

This?

Oh, it's evidence I just pulled
it out of a dead kid's hand.

Do you want to see it?

Take a look.

Whoever did this to
him is a monster.

It's OK.

It's OK.

Look, I need to get back
there, and you need to leave.

This is a crime scene.

Even though
we have gathered here

to lament the passing
of young Cal Pepper,

we must rejoice that the
Lord Jesus Christ has brought

him into his heavenly Kingdom.

So let us...

He was murdered, Father.

Cal Pepper was a
nine-year-old child,

and he was brutally violated,
and choked to death.

And he was one of eight
kids to suffer that same...

Bill, perhaps the
church isn't the place

for such explicit grief.

I'm sorry, where?

Where do we go?

Isn't this the Lord's house?

Why can't we lay our
pain at His door?

I mean, come to me
all Ye who suffer,

and I will give you comfort.

You know, The Son of
Man said that, The Son.

And I know eight
sons who really use.

His comfort right about now.

Come on.

Come on.

Mm.

You know, you know,
Cal's last supper was?

It's a candy bar.

Kids love candy bars.

All those
kids, Lord have mercy.

Poor Bill pouring out
his heart like that.

What in the world is
happening to our little town?

It was a hell of a thing
you did the other day

- at that drugstore.
- Oh, no.

It was wrong.

I shouldn't have.

I mean, Judge, I don't
know what came over me.

A big heap of bravery
is what came over you.

All what's going
on in this town,

I'm going to arrange a
carry permit for you.

Mm.

How things go at the hospital?

Oh, just some routine
tests and stuff.

I mean, I'm fine.

But Judge, I don't
think that I need a gun.

It's my town, Walden.

If I say you need a
gun, you need a gun.

Well...

Better safe
than sorry, Walden.

OK.

We're going to lunch.

You're welcome to join.

Oh, no, no, thank you.

Come on, honey.

I'm starving.

Enjoy your Sunday, Walden.

Stand
up, Mr. Sheldon.

After some brief
deliberation on my part,

and considering that the gun
you took into that theater

was unloaded, I think
12 months probation

should be sufficient...

Yes!

In this case.

But Mr. Sheldon, don't
you ever let me see

you in front of my court again.

Do you hear me?

So ruled.

I hope you
don't mind, but I

wanted to see you in action.

Ah.

Well, why?

I don't know.

I guess I had some
time on my hands,

and I feel the need to
apologize for being so

forward with you the other day.

Calling you a Savant, and all.

Oh.

Savant?

It's really not a problem.

Great.

Because I need your
help with something.

Oh.

With what?

With whom?

Oh, well, OK, with whom?

See, my family's throwing
this party for my Uncle James,

and I cannot handle it alone.

Why not?

Well, because I choose not to.

Uh-huh.

OK.

I know what you're doing.

I have work in the morning.

Don't worry, I'll make sure
you're home before sunset.

And you'll be doing
me a huge favor.

Besides I bet that steno could
use some fresh air, being stuck

in this stale courthouse
day in and day out,

eternally tapped out.

OK.

Well, back by sunset, you say?

I promise.

Your family lives here?

Yeah, for six generations.

Beat the DEANS by one, ei?

Where you been hiding
that endearing smile?

Oh.

Come on.

Let's meet the Duperon gang.

Hi.

Nice to see you.

Ah!

Hi there.

- Jesus.
- Hi!

Hi.

Hi.

This truly is a majestic
residence Mr. And Mrs. Duperon.

Well, thank you, Walden.

Emily has told us absolutely
nothing about you.

Where are you from?

Over in Alexandria, ma'am.

Alexandria?

Dean?

Say, you wouldn't happen to be
Jesse Dean's boy, would you?

Yes, sir.

I am.

Jesse Dean, he was
the mildest mannered, sweetest

boy in our high school.

Oh.

Well, you went to high
school with my Dad?

Sure did.

Oh.

Shame what that wife
of his did to him.

Oh.

Mm.

What she do?

I don't want to be
gossiping none here.

But let's just say...

Hey.

OK. OK.

I think that's enough.

I'm sorry.

As you can see nosiness is
inherent within the Duperon

family.

Mm.

I agree, honey.

That's enough, Mitchell.

Please forgive him, dear.

Oh, no, no, no, your husband
is right, Mrs. Duperon.

My mother did not adhere
to her marriage vows,

as one would hope.

She was something
of a loose woman,

some would even say a whore.

Ah, and a very
successful one at that.

If you'd excuse me.

Walden, how do I
even begin to apologize

for my father's ignorance?

Oh, no.

Never apologize for a truth.

You know, this house
was given to my family.

Yep.

Apparently, we read
the entire surrounding

area of... and you're never
going to believe this...

Snakes.

Mm-hmm.

I come from a long
line of snake charmers.

Well, tall
tales make short memories.

Oh, I like that.

Who said that?

Walden Dean.

Oh.

You got any more masterful
quotes from Mr. Dean?

Let me think, uhm.

Two most important days in your
life are the day you're born...

And the day you
find out why, OK.

Are you just quoting
Mark Twain over there?

Did you find out why?

I didn't.

Until recently.

You're going to tell me?

Another time.

It's almost sunset.

Not quite
a stately mansion.

Yeah, well, it is a home of
the great Savant Weldon Dean.

Yeah.

What?

I was just thinking,
I never really

put this down for that long.

Thank you for the invitation.

Really?

After having to suffer my
father and his big old mouth?

OK.

Well, I'll see you
at the next round.

Yeah.

You broke your promise.

You said you'd have
me back by sunset.

Ah.

Good night!

Hey, George.

Uh-oh.

Hey, George.

Oh, hi, Detective Billy.

Hi.

Hey, So now, you know most
everybody in Alexandria,

don't you?

Not only that.

I know where they all live,
and what they do for work.

OK.

You seen any strange
folk hanging around?

People even you've
never met before?

No.

I don't see anybody
outside of anybody I know,

Detective Billy.

If I did, I would
remember them, then they

wouldn't be strangers no more.

You'd tell us
if you did, right?

Uh-huh.

Sure would.

Hey, George, you
knew young Cal Pepper,

didn't you, George?

I don't know nothing
about what happened to Cal.

Nothing.

Hey, it's OK, George.

OK?

You have yourself a good day.

Thank you.

Today's court case is bad.

Bad man.

Very bad man.

You saw that candy bar, right?

Yep.

I like candy bars, too.

Dr. Patel,
can you describe

the condition you found Mr. Pym
in when you were attending him?

He was in a very bad state.

His heart had stopped, and
the brain had no function.

Anything else
outstanding about Mr. Pym?

Apart from the
cataracts in his eyes?

It's over.

Substantial bruising

to his buttocks and his legs.

His feet were badly
deformed from what looked

like years of heavy bandaging.

Heavy bandaging?

Any reason why his feet
were heavily bandaged?

No.

There was no history in
his chart showing any kind

of problems in that area.

So there was no real
explanation for such

a sustained and
painful treatment.

Did you know, Dr.
Patel, that Mr Pym was not

the only patient at the
blessed retirement facility

to have sustained such
terrible injuries?

There were
whispers about the BRF,

but not much more than that.

So you aren't aware that Chief
attending nurse, Katherine.

Mills, was overseeing
these patients,

and was caught by the son of
one patient, a Mr. Andrews,

slapping his father
across the face

for not taking his medication?

Objection, Your Honor!

As bad as slapping anyone
across the face is,

it doesn't rise to a
level of probable cause

that my client
nurse Mills, who is

25 years of impeccable service
in the medical profession,

systematically tortured his
unfortunate patients who

subsequently died from nothing
to do with bandaged feet

or bruised buttocks.

of which can be explained with|
justifiable medical reasoning.

I'm sorry, Your Honor,
but defense is deflecting

from an observation of
violence, which clearly lends

itself to a mode of behavior.

Ms. Deitrich, did
anybody actually see

nurse Mills binding
these poor people's feet

or whipping them with a...

Leather belt?

No, Your Honor, no witnesses.

I'm sorry, but I...

I just can't see your
stretch of logic here.

Owing to Chief nurse
Mills impeccable record,

and the lack of
any probable cause,

or actual evidence, no
eyewitnesses, no leather belt,

I see no alternative, but to,
uh, grant the defense's motion

for dismissal of all charges.

Walden, how have
you been feeling?

If it is, just want you
to know I'm here for you.

Well, I told you the
other day, Judge, I mean,

there's nothing wrong with me.

Just stress, trying to impose
itself on my disposition.

They're probably just trying to
beat that stupid steno record.

Do yourself a favor, son,
and quit that damn competition

right now.

Well, I can't.

I met someone there.

A very nice young woman.

Well, I will be damned.

How about that?

Well, you sneaky son of a gun.

Don't.

No wonder you're
all bent out of shape.

Speaking of guns?

Mm.

Still feels kind of weird.

I mean, it's not really me.

You just watch your
back now, you hear?

Oh, yes, sir.

All right.

Mm.

This room is
supposed to be empty.

You can't be in here.

Are you hearing me?

Who the fuck are you?

The stenographer.

Not exactly
a pedicure, but...

Well...

Do you know what Mr.
Pym's last words were?

Well, I do because
he said them to me.

He said, "Stop her.

Oh, please?"

I feel compelled to
comply with his plea.

I'm going
to give you a chance

to come clean and confess
to all the years of abuse

you have inflicted on
the elderly, the infirm,

and the unprotected.

You did devilishly
murder, Mr. Pym, correct?

You have snuffed out the lives
of countless others, have you

not?

Good.

I'm glad you got
that off your chest.

Boy, oh, boy, you
just couldn't resist

flaunting a souvenir of the
pain you caused, could you?

The stories this
bloodstained belt could tell.

You see this spot right here?

This one's for you.

That resulted in
between 3,000 and 5,000 people

accused of heresy
and/or witchcraft

was finally abandoned
July 15, 1834.

Time.

329.

Care to tell me?

The same, 329.

Mm, I see.

Synchronicity prevails,
congratulations.

Every bone in
both feet is broken.

Some of them was just splinters.

Cotton ball in the nostrils.

Jesus, what a fucking mess.

Sorry.

Found this
in the shower.

It's covered in old
bloodstains, but

there's some fresh on there.

OK.

Get that to the lab in Atlanta
and have it tested against Mr.

Pym and anyone else who
died in here with Mr.

Pym's kind of injuries.

Yeah.

And if it's a match
to the other victims?

Someone save the
taxpayer a lot of money.

Same somebody
who cooked Bolt?

Well, we got a
vigilante on our hands?

People here, they don't
got that kind of DNA.

Maybe you're wrong.

What?

Maybe one of them does.

When they gets laughed at,
picked on, eats candy bars,

knows every damn case
in the courtroom.

No.

No.

It's 1888, Paris.

And I see myself sitting
in a cafe in Montmartre,

watching Satie play for
the locals, a song that

will travel throughout time
all the way to a small town

in Georgia, USA.

You know, when I was a
little girl, I wanted to do

is leave this town.

And now, I'm a full grown woman,
and I have no idea what I want.

Can I be honest with you?

Mm-hmm.

I like you.

Mwah.

Hi, Walden.

Thank you.

Do you want to play
video games at my house?

I love you.

I got you a gift.

Let's go.

Do you see that?

Yeah.

Shit.

Why, George?

Get up, George.

Get up.

George, come on.

Come on.

Hi, Detective Billy.

Is everything OK?

No, George.

It's not OK.

Javier was winning this game.

I won the last game, but
he was winning this game.

Now we won't finish the game.

Why are you arresting me, Billy?

Don't you normally keep those
handcuffs for bad people

who do bad things?

Yes.

You got to Mirandize him.

Billy, you got him Mirandized...

OK, don't tell me how
to do my job, all right?

Miranda rights or the rights
of every American citizen?

George Bellows, you have
the right to remain silent.

You have the right
to an attorney.

If you cannot afford
one, then an attorney

will be provided for you.

I'll take you to
the station, George.

- Let's go.
- OK.

I don't know chief.

I went with the hunch.

OK?

He was with a kid.

Same age as the others.

He's Mexican.

Took him to dinner,
gave him a candy bar,

and then took him
back to his place.

Cal Pepper wasn't Mexican.

Only one who wasn't.

Mm.

Are they going at it?

They were playing video games.

Mm.

It's fucking strange.

40-year-old man hanging
with a little kid.

You do realize that
George has a mental capacity

of a 10-year-old, right?

It was my call, OK?

All those kids.

Somebody had to do something.

Well, turn this place
over, and see what you find.

I'll let health services
know what's going on.

This cannot get out.

If folks find out we're pulling
a mentally challenged person

because we think he's
a pedophile killer,

we'll be hanging from
a cross by Friday.

I need evidence,
or cut him loose.

OK.

This is just silly.

I have called you several
times, but now you're

making me feel real childish,
and you know, at least text

me, and let me know you're OK.

In fact, you know what...

Oh.

Dear Lord, no doubt
you lost a little faith

in me, if you had any.

I don't blame you.

But I've had enough of watching
people get hurt, and die,

and nobody cares, or
even remembers them.

I know memories don't
live on past life itself,

but I believe pain sure does.

Now watching families
like the Peppers

and the Pyms supposed
to go about eating

and talking like what their
son went through is acceptable?

It is not acceptable!

I'm sorry to go
against you, Lord.

But damn it.

I have to do something.

And if I got to roast
that bastard's head

or crossed out with
his feet, so be it!

Given that, well, I suppose
this is the last conversation

we'll be having between us.

I wish you a lot of luck,
Lord, dealing with all

the ugliness in this world.

Amen.

Oh, and if you can, please have
Emily Duperon forget I exist.

Thank you.

Hey, Bill.

Hey, I heard George
is in holding?

Yeah.

Yeah, you heard right.

We maybe charging him
for Cal Peppers' murder.

What?

George? No.

No, no, no. Surely not.

What?

What?

Local retard can
have an evil streak?

I mean, what the fuck
is it to you, Walden?

OK.

I just don't
believe George would

do something like that, OK?

Plus, he's my friend.

Are you OK?

No, other than you
just can't take a walk

at night with the
person you love,

you want your cop with a gun.

Hey.

Wha... what... what?

Sally and Zoe got attacked
by a couple of punks

last night not far
from Baridisio Bistro.

No.

Now, I hope they catch them.

Can I see George?

You got five minutes.

Hey.

Hey.

Hey, buddy.

Come on, sit down.

I don't know why
I'm here, Walden.

I don't know, either, George.

They think maybe
you have something

to do with Cal Pepper's death.

I would never
hurt a kid, Walden.

All my friends are
the local kids.

You know that.

They're the only ones
that will talk to me

and don't spit on me.

Well, you got to
be honest, George.

I don't want to
see you in trouble.

But if you did something, or if
you know something, you know,

you got to tell Bill.

Do you know why they call
me General George, Walden?

No.

I never did know why.

'Cause when I was
a kid, I had long,

yellow hair, and a mustache.

I was only 10.

And I had a mustache.

And someone in school
once said that I looked

like General George Custer.

I liked that name, and it stuck.

He died in battle.

OK.

Well, I do know that.

I don't want to die in battle.

This isn't my battle.

No, George.

No.

This is not your battle.

OK?

Guilty.

Guilty.

Mr. Dean, guilty or not guilty?

Answer.

That's a very difficult
question, Your Honor.

I think that I am not guilty.

Mm.

Are you OK?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Oh, good.

Good.

Because I just spent the entire
day driving around in circles,

wondering who Walden Dean is.

Where Walden Dean is?

And why I care so much?

A boy who leaves me
on a date, and then

refuses to answer my calls.

So I guess if I could
answer that question,

I wouldn't be standing
here right now.

Oh, you've been drinking.

OK.

This was a bad idea.

No, what... whoa.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Just...

"Mommy was"

out again all night last night.

Daddy was crying.

I heard him.

I wanted to knock on his
door and be with him,

"but I know men aren't supposed
to cry in front of their sons."

"It rained heavily
this morning."

I took a bus into Atlanta.

I wanted to go to the department
store, where my mom works.

I looked in through the window.

But there were so many people.

That's why I went inside.

She looked so beautiful.

But she was wearing black.

I just stood there and wondered
if she was as sad as my daddy.

I guess I hoped she was.

When she saw me, my
heart started to race.

I wanted so much to run to her.

Instead, I ran
back out the shop.

I was crying.

What are you doing?

These are my things.

You live with all this?

Some people collect sweaters.

I collect the
testament of justice.

No.

You collect pain and loss.

Walden, you should just
throw all this away.

Don't.

Just please don't.

Don't...

Why?

It's tragic.

I'm... I'm the ghost
of the courtroom.

I arrive.

I take out my
machine, and I record

every moment, every truth,
every lie, every word.

My father told me early
on, you never let your face

betray your emotions, right?

You look around the court like
you just landed on the moon.

You have a pleasant day.

So my fingers tap
while I hear innocence,

and I hear evil.

And sometimes evil walks away.

And when it does,
pack up my machine,

and the ghost in the
courtroom goes home.

But you're not a ghost, Walden.

You're not a ghost.

This is all I have.

Then you have to let it go.

Some things you just can't
let go of, Miss Duperon.

I'm sorry.

I can't do this.

You're not a ghost, Walden.

Dad, it's so far
away, in the capital

of the city of Canberra.

That's right.

That's my clever girl.

Hey, uhm, can I ask
you something, darling?

Sure.

When you go see Father Gallagher

for communion practice, with
all the kids, boys and girls...

Mm-hmm.

Does father Gallagher ever...

Bill.

If you're asking,
he was the best.

I'll say girls are the best
that can be in practice.

Uh-huh.

They sure are.

Yeah.

Yeah, I bet they are.

Enough of this.

You have to go get some sleep.

Time to rest.

Here you go.

Oh.

God bless.

God bless Daddy and Mommy.

That's right.

Just because a man is a priest,

that automatically makes him
a suspect in a child's death.

My job is to catch
a killer, Laurie.

Oh, OK.

And... and you do that how?

By grilling your own daughter?

Right now, I have
someone locked up

that I believe is innocent, OK?

And the Peppers, Cal Peppers'
family, they don't have

a child to tuck in anymore.

I know that.

That breaks my heart.

But you can't let the
sadness into our home.

You can't do it.

It's heartbreaking,
but you can't

let it... what are you doing?

I...

Bill.

It's... baby, I
got to take this.

Walden, what is it?

I'm kind of in the middle
of something right now.

Bill, I know you guys got
the badges and the guns,

and I don't like to be
here out of my lane.

But I really, really don't
think George murdered

Cal Pepper or any other kid.

What?

I'm sorry... I... hold on.

Where are you?

I'm just enjoying the evening.

You call me at this time to tell

me you are having a coffee?

Oh, come on, Walden.

Do you have something for me
that proves George's innocence?

No.

It's just something he said.

Every time we see
George by the courtroom,

he knows the case
of the day, right?

And he would tell us about it,
but then he always finishes

with the words, "Very bad man."

Bad man.

Very bad man.

Bill.

Bill, are you still there?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

I'm here.

The
thing is, not every case

we had involved a man.

We had many cases where
the defendant was a woman,

like the late nurse Mills.

Walden, where are you?

Sorry, Bill.

- I got to run.
- Walden.

Walden.

Shit.

Stop fighting.

Excuse me!

Did these women consent to this?

Fuck.

Who the fuck are you, man?

What are we doing right
here is none of your business.

You just ruined a
really nice party.

Fuck, are you some sort
of cop or something, man?

Maybe.

I don't know.

Here, take me in.

You want to make an arrest?

Oh, really?

You look
sad, Detective Billy.

Did something happen?

It's Walden.

He's been hurt.

Is he going to be OK?

Let's hope so.

Detective?

Yeah, George?

Would it be OK if I
showed you something bad?

I know you can hear me, son.

Now you listen to me.

I want you to ignore what
I said before at the bar,

you understand?

Words really do
matter because...

Because I have a great power.

I love you, Walden.

So you... you get yourself
back to me now, all right?

No matter what you've done.

You're not wasting our
time, are you, George?

No.

Not wasting your time.

Yeah, you sure
we don't need back up?

Look, I know this sounds
naive, but I trust him.

We're getting very
close, Detective Billy.

How do you
know that, George?

I can smell it.

OK.

One out.

Let's go.

Come on.

Come on, come on.

George.

George.

Inside.

Come on, let's go.

Let's go. Come on.

Walk. Walk.

Walk.

Walk.

You... you won't need your guns.

Come on, George.

I don't want to go in there.

All right.

You don't need to go in there.

All right, George?

You're going to
stay the fuck here.

Don't move.

Yeah.

Detective Hunt?

What?

You'll never be the same.

Jesus Christ.

Oh.

Fucking hell.

No.

Radio
13 to David Chen.

David Chen, go ahead.

David
Chen, we're in sector 4.

Yeah, we're going to need
a photo kit and also...

How's she doing?

How do you think
she's doing, man?

Did he tell us anything?

A couple of the victims
were friends of his.

Go to his house and
play video games.

They told
him about this place,

where, uh, they'd sometimes
going to get paid.

Paid?

For what?

Jesus Christ!

Is there any way we
can get him to talk?

Bill?

Uh.

Dad?

Uh... uhm.

Found your way home, huh?

Hey now.

Atta boy.

Dad?

Yeah?

Every day.

Hmm.

I swear
she'd be faster

using one of those quill pens.

Yeah.

I'll be back soon, Judge.

Doc says a few more weeks
of sitting doing nothing.

Got a little bit more
space in my head now.

Well, no rush, son.

We're just glad to
know you're good.

Well, I guess I'd better be
moseying here in a minute.

I want you to take it
easy now, you hear me?

No samba classes.

I'll try not to.

Fleming.

Hey.

Jesse?

See better than me?

Hmm.

Now you know there'd
be incriminating.

I'll walk you down
to the car, Judge.

All right.

I could use a little exercise.

Take care, son.

Come on.

Good to see you you're in your
pop back under the same roof.

Yeah.

He's only hanging around till I
can start shaving myself again.

Oh, wow.

Like I haven't seen
this one in a while.

It's a beauty.

You mind?

No, not at all.

- Take a look.
- Wow.

Yeah.

I've had her in the
shop for a long time.

Nice to get her out,
get some fresh air.

Oh, it
is... it is beautiful.

Thanks.

I want to say I want
to thank you, Judge,

for keeping my job open for me.

Oh.

Yeah.

I really appreciate it.

It's just a shame you had to get

your head cracked open
to come to your senses

about that competition.

Hey, how's that girl?

New girl you told me about?

Oh, that's, uh,
that's pretty much over.

Oh.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Yeah.

Well, I'll message you, son.

Yes, sir.

I'm real keen to know what
you intend to do with that.

Well, just exercising
my constitutional

right to self-defense, Pop.

Observation is the
cornerstone of the stenographer.

That fella, Kane, knows.

As does that pretty
little cohort of his.

Are you getting your winks in?

You're talking kind of funny.

I thought I was supposed to be
the one with the brain damage.

You're funny, boy.

Don't miss.

Oh.

Well, I'm going
to sleep like a baby tonight.

Don't you always?

How could that be
this time of night?

Why don't
you go on to bed, honey?

Don't be long.

I won't.

Sit down, Walden.

Have your hands
remain visible, please?

What gave me away?

The torn fabric
in your car seat.

Dammit.

I knew I should have
gotten that fixed.

That's just me being
lazy and cheap.

Thought since I locked her
away, the thought might fade.

We judges can fuck up,
do some terrible things.

That's putting it rather mildly.

Young Cal Pepper put up a pretty
good fight for his life, huh?

He did, indeed.

And that's why you had
to kill him so quickly,

and dump his body in the forest.

I'm curious.

What makes someone want
to do something like that?

The need to...

Abuse the young?

Uh-huh.

They smell good.

They walk like foals.

I've always had it.

I even had a thing for
you when you were young.

And I needed your
pop in my courtroom.

I couldn't have him distracted.

Mm.

How many?

Oh, you don't want to know.

I started when I was 17.

Countless.

Endless.

And Mrs. Boyle?

My sweet facade.

My lily-white camouflage.

She has no idea.

Mm.

You won't need that gun.

I'm done.

Lost my grip.

Well, much as I have appreciated

your avuncular
nature towards me,

as well as your
reassurances of being done,

I can't trust what you say
has a word of truth in it.

And since you are
such a wicked man,

I feel obligated to Cal
and all the other children

you so cruelly murdered to send
you personally down to hell.

The burden is on me not
to enjoy my task too much.

But I must bear witness
to your earthly departure

for the children.

You can understand that,
can't you, Your Honor?

For the children.

Fair enough.

Walden, you are the
best damn stenographer I

have ever seen in a courtroom.

Hi, detectives.

Hey, Walden.

Come on in.

Thanks for keeping
it down, detectives.

My dad's just sleeping
on the couch there.

You guys want any
coffee or anything?

I'm just doing a little
bit of work here.

It looks like you
got yourself a dog.

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah.

My dad got me a puppy.

He said he thought it would
help me get some exercise.

Hey, Walden, if
you don't mind me asking,

why did you just happen
to be in that alleyway

on that particular night?

Oh.

Just going for one
of my renowned walks.

I hope those aren't
outlawed now.

Are they?

No.

No, it hasn't been outlawed.

OK.

Well, how was your
friend, by the way?

-She's good.
-Yeah?

She's doing much better. Yeah.

Thanks for asking, Walden.

Yeah.

You know, the
good news is, you won't

be charged for what happened.

Witnesses have come
forward on your behalf.

They say it was self-defense.

Well, you're darn tootin'.

It was self-defense.

But witnesses?

Uh-huh.

Caring bystanders.

Of course, we need to figure
out who took out Bolt and Mills,

but...

That's right.

Mm.

Yeah, man.

That is a mystery.

Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

Mm-hmm.

Walden, you know, I hear
that problems in the head

can make people do crazy things.

But then when the
head gets fixed,

all those crazy thoughts,
and those crazy things,

they can just stop.

You following me?

You're talking above
my pay grade, detective.

I just write this
stuff for a living.

I'll leave it to you
guys to figure it out.

We'll see ourselves out, Walden.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Mm-hmm.

Well.

Corpus Christi.

Amen.

Corpus Christi.

Amen.

Congratulations.

Give your mom a hug,

So proud of you.

The
case was dismissed,

and the defendant left
the courtroom a free man.

Time.

359, I believe.

359?

Shit.

You were two away
from the world record.

"The
accused over a two-year period"

is alleged to have murdered
seven different prostitutes

across the state.

The defendant denies
all charges and has

entered a plea of not guilty.

"He will be released on
bond while awaiting trial."

Well, we'll see about that.

Sins of my father
are rolling off my tongue.

Listen, everybody.

I ain't really nobody son.

Man, I got your lips now.

Man, I gotta say I
was twisted charm.

If you listen closely, I ain't
got the beat of your hearts.

Now I'm going to do is go now.

It's all I'm going
to do is just go.

All I'm going to
do before I go now

is paint myself red,
black, and blue.

Call me a bad stitch.

Call me a street
sniffing feral hound.

Always remember I ain't
got a home in no towns.

I get some phone calls.

I get some letters
and some chewy toys.

But listen up, my dears, I
really ain't nobody's boy.

Now all I'm going
to do is go now.

It's all I'm going
to do is just go.

All I'm going to do
as boy now is paint

myself red, black, and blue.

Hey, I'm not a guy
that said I was in it.

Might have got it
twisted some, but all

I want is as I'm leaving for you
to not to say anything at all.

But I ain't the one.

Yeah, I really
ain't nobody's son.