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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.