Original subtitles

Joan.

What's going on?

He's missing.

What do you mean, he's missing?

It's a good thing, Joan.

We just can't tell anyone.

You hear me?

Well, what if he comes back?

He won't! It doesn't matter.

This is our chance!

Hold!

Hold action, please!

I'm sorry, I can't have Aurora cross downstage

without the stage-left spot.

I'm totally losing her.

Phil--

we open in two days.

I'm watching shadow puppets up there.

Phil, can you bring up the house lights?

- Sure thing. - Thanks.

Let's bring up the house lights.

Hey, uh, Lil?

Can we sidebar for a sec?

And you just let me know which one I use.

Great.

Okay.

Okay, Carsten, you want to head up there...

You're asking for things you never asked for before.

I know how much is riding on this,

and it's just not good enough.

It's going to be perfect.

You have sunk millions into this place.

The whole city is watching.

Oh, and word is,

your playwright's a freakin' disaster.

You are not a disaster...

you're just a little stressed.

Here's what we're gonna do.

I'm gonna call "dinner."

You and I are gonna share a bottle of wine,

maybe some greasy pasta,

then we're gonna come back, we're gonna finish rehearsals.

How's that sound?

Can we make it chicken parm?

Phil?

Let's take dinner.

Great job, everybody!

Let's break for dinner early.

Thank you.

Are we ready to have...

Oh, hold on a sec.

I'm gonna go grab my script.

'Kay. I'll meet you out front.

Sure. I actually have a sandwich in the fridge,

but I can...

Is someone there?

Ceel?

Phil?

Yo.

It's gas station coffee-- it sucks but it's really strong.

I was about to give it to Kemi.

Your car was not in the garage.

Yeah. Sid borrowed it.

- Why? - 'Kay. I'm gonna tell you.

Put your coffee down first.

Why?

So you don't throw it at me.

Uh-huh?

Sid had her first O.B. appointment today.

And she didn't ask me to go? She didn't ask you to go?

She said she wanted to handle it by herself.

I didn't press her on it.

Don't-- Don't fathers usually attend those type of functions?

I'm just curious.

I brought the keys back.

Okay. So we're doing this again? You guys are talking about me.

So if you're gonna be man-babies,

let's do this.

- Hey! He's the man-baby. - What are you, a babysitter?

Oh, my god. Can we just be adults?

We are adults.

We can all be adults, but you're still my little girl.

Okay? You took a year off of school,

you're not telling us who the father is--

things we'd like to know.

I told you I would talk to you about it when I was ready.

So, I met this guy from Penn State,

we had a few drinks, didn't use protection--

Oh!

Okay! All right, enough! Please.

You don't have to get anatomical.

Okay, just... continue.

Sorry.

I'm gonna stay here until I have the baby.

End of story.

And... we respect that.

We want to be as much a part of it

as you want us to.

- Thank you. - Right, Jay?

Yeah, right! I'm sorry, I'm still at

Penn State Peter not wearing a jimmy-hat.

Okay, so the Mayor called.

- I'm gonna go. - All right.

Love you.

Love you, too.

- Love you too, Mike. - Bye.

Why-Why'd the Mayor call?

He got a call from one of his donors.

A "Lillian Waverly" is missing.

Gone since last night.

Who's that?

Big Broadway playwright.

She's premiering her new show at the Bainbridge St. Theatre.

Wait, that's the theater that had that fire,

like, 15 years ago, right?

- Yeah. - Like 80-something people died.

Yeah. So, they were supposed to reopen on Friday.

It was a big black-tie event-- the whole deal.

Maybe she doesn't like parties.

Patrol says there was signs of blood,

so we are looking at an abduction.

Jay, go, and, uh, take Helen with you to run trace.

Why aren't you coming?

Interim Lead Officer duties.

Houston's got me doing paperwork till the next solar eclipse.

I gotta sign off on all your property damage.

Well, I was just actually thinking--

I'm gonna run a bus off a bridge while I'm out, so...

Yeah, wouldn't be surprised.

Oh, my gosh! This place is beautiful.

Yeah, if you're into gold paint.

If you like Lillian Waverly.

I'm guessing that you do?

Lillian's work is life-changing.

You either get it or you don't.

But if you do... ohh!

You feel it in your soul.

She was the hottest playwright on Planet Broadway.

Why was?

She had a bunch of a hits, won a ton of awards,

but a couple of years ago,

she went into self-destruct mode.

Had a $10-million show about to start previews,

and she pulled the plug.

She took off for some retreat in the Catskills

and went totally dark.

It was a real-life theater tragedy.

Certainly a tragedy

for the people who put up the 10 million dollars.

Sounds like motive to me.

Missing Persons?

Yeah.

I'm Phil. Stage Manager.

Thank God you're here.

So, what do you think happened to your playwright, Phil?

She's not just our playwright! She's my friend.

Okay, who are you?

Celia Fischer!

Patron of the arts!

I can't believe this happened. You have to find her.

That's what we're doing here.

Where do you think she was taken from?

Let's start there.

- Follow me. - 'Kay.

Settle down.

Okay, so what can you tell me

about these investors that Lillian pissed off?

No one likes to lose money.

They were angry, but this? No, that can't be.

Anybody else you can think of she had a problem with?

No. Lillian could be demanding,

but she's respectful of everyone,

and she's hardest on herself.

You may want to tell him about the, uh, incidents.

Yeah, yeah. What incidents?

Reopening the theater has had some community pushback.

What kind of pushback?

Pressure to deny permits, problems during renovations.

My office was broken into.

It's Philly.

Bunch of whackadoos accused us of profiting off

the tragedy of the fire.

Well, it's a pretty big deal.

A lot of people lost their lives. Right?

This place went up like a powder keg

during a matinee.

I can see how people'd get upset,

'cause you're putting a fresh coat of paint on the place,

and then serving cocktails in the lobby.

That's not what we did.

And most of the city wants this to work.

Okay. I mean, I heard that, prior to your purchase,

there was talks of a memorial park.

What good is a park gonna do?

A statue?

I mean, this... this is a living memorial.

I want this to be a place of healing.

Detective. I've got something!

Okay. You guys hang tight.

What's up?

This is weird.

There's traces of blood,

but no directionality to the droplets.

The blood was put here-- like this was staged.

Inadvertent pun.

Gotcha.

So the kidnapper left a trail?

And the trail leads... thattaway.

Okay.

Can you grab that, Helen? Please.

Oh, yeah.

Sorry. Okay.

There we go.

- Can you open it now? - Oh, right. Of course.

Oh...

Funny way to leave a message.

It's a QR code that leads to a webpage.

Somebody went to a lot of trouble--

what is it they want us to see?

- Please don't do this. - Celia Fischer,

you were told not to open the theater,

but you didn't listen to me.

Listen to her!

I know you don't want to hurt me.

Just do what he asks.

I mean this-- close that theater down.

- Issue the Alert. - Yeah.

If Celia Fischer thinks the police can save you,

she's wrong.

The historic Bainbridge St. Theatre

was devastated by fire in May 2010,

taking the lives of 87 men, women, and children.

Leaving the historic 1910 structure in ruin.

The theater was recently purchased

by local entrepreneur Derrick Fischer,

whose wife, Celia,

will be reopening the theater with a new play

from award-winning Lillian Waverly.

That's a news report from three months ago.

You think Lillian's kidnapping

had something to do with the fire?

Maybe. I followed up with the investors

that sued Lillian after she pulled the plug

on her last play.

They got a lien on her future earnings,

so hurting Lillian only hurts them.

Any other haters?

A couple of theater fans who think

that she didn't deserve her last Tony.

An actress who did a staged reading,

and then she got mad

when the play went up and she didn't get cast.

It's all pretty mild.

Yeah, well, abducting a woman to shut down a theater--

that's kind of the opposite of mild.

Which brings us back to the fire.

All right. That's Helen. She's got something.

See if you can figure out who built that website.

Yeah.

These came from the note card.

Looks like they're smudged.

Yeah. See the bad definition in the loops and arches?

May be from moisture, adhesive on the fingertips--

but no way to I.D. them.

Well, we both saw the video.

This lady's in trouble.

Keep trying for me, yeah?

Mm-hmm.

It's Lillian Waverly.

When I was 16,

my aunt took me to see The Quantum of Sarah.

It changed my life.

Whatever it takes.

- Thanks. - Mm-hmm.

Sorry to keep you waiting.

I keep seeing Lillian all tied up like that,

every time I close my eyes.

I'm sorry.

I'm not usually like this, I'm just--

Whoa, hey, hey.

It's okay. All right? You're scared.

I get it.

Um, what can I do to help?

Well, based on the video,

we think that you should postpone opening night

and close the theater-- just for now.

Yes, of course.

Lillian is special.

We've spent months together, but she still surprises me--

every single day.

She's brilliant and she's passionate,

and she doesn't deserve this.

And we are gonna do everything that we can

to find her. Okay?

Sorry. We got a walk-in off the Alert-- possible witness.

Okay. See what they got, and shout if you need me.

Gotcha.

Oh, I know exactly who she is.

Sent my systolic through the roof

when I heard they were gonna reopen.

So, you worked for the Bainbridge St. Theatre,

Ms. Grayson?

I was an usher in the early 2000s.

I loved that place.

Got the autograph of Mr. James Earl Jones once.

Look at you!

That's truly special.

You were saying about the theater--?

I was there the night of the fire.

I wasn't physically hurt, but I remember the smoke,

and the screams.

You can't ever get a sound like that out of your head.

I can imagine.

When I heard they were reopening,

I got nostalgic, so I went to take a look.

Know who I saw?

Right across the street?

Reed Tillis.

That's the man who owned the theater

prior to the fire?

The snake himself.

He inherited the theater.

Ran it into the ground.

There's blood on his hands.

And you're sure it was Tillis?

I'm sure. I'd know him anywhere.

But it's odd.

What is?

After all the wrongful death lawsuits,

he declared bankruptcy,

and left town.

With that woman missing now, I thought I'd report it,

because why is he back?

You been drinking today, Mr. Tillis?

Why do you ask?

You smell like the bar mat at the TGI Friday's.

This is about that damn theater, isn't it?

It always is.

If I could still afford her, I would call my lawyer.

Okay. Here's the thing.

A couple months ago, new owners had a break-in.

Mrs. Fischer's office was tossed.

They didn't have a good security system,

but the diner across the street had a fancy new system.

Cameras and everything.

That's a good angle on you, isn't it?

Okay, fine. You got me on B-and-E.

Go ahead, lock me up.

Get a headline out of it. I make a great punching bag.

Yeah, I feel terrible for you.

Just tiny little tears on the inside.

You have any idea how expensive it is to run a theater?

I don't.

I was just keeping the doors open

and then some outdated breaker box overloads and it--

I lost everything.

I think that the 87 people that lost their lives

lost a bit more than you did.

You think I don't know that?

Don't know.

All right, Mr. Tillis. What-- What were you after?

Fischer's heart.

What's the problem with Celia Fischer?

No, not her.

Her husband-- Mr. Moneybags.

After the fire,

the theater was standing evidence

in all the lawsuits,

so I couldn't even tear it down,

and then Fischer made an offer.

Finally, I could recoup something, right?

He paid me pennies on the dollar,

all so his chippy wife

could have her own little slice of Broadway.

And I found out that the city was gonna pay me more

to turn it into a memorial park,

but my lawyer told me

the only way that I could get out of the deal

was if I could prove

that Fischer's appraisal was fraudulent,

so I went looking.

You didn't find anything?

I don't even own that tinder box anymore,

and it's still ruining my life.

I didn't take that playwright.

Look at me.

I'm a drunk.

But book me for the burglary.

Go ahead. Knock yourself out.

Keep a unit on Tillis, but I don't make him for this.

The guy's a jackass, not a threat.

You gotta see something! Channel 5! Hurry.

Okay!

We've heard the reports

that we will be postponing opening night.

They are false.

We will not respond to blackmail.

I am the owner of Bainbridge St. Theatre,

and I assure you--

the show will go on.

Now, I'm happy to answer any of your questions.

What the hell were you thinking?

A woman's life is in danger!

You know that, and clearly don't care!

Really?

Suddenly you're the saint in all this, are you?

I was doing the right thing.

Now, that's a change of pace, isn't it?

Oh, my god.

Open the link.

Please let me talk to her.

If I can just talk to Celia--

Please. No!

No!

I do not want to do this!

Why are you not listening to me?

Ah! Help!

Ah!

Help me!

You have until 6:00 tonight.

Close the theater...

or she burns.

Celia! Help, please! Help me!

Tell me her name again?

Uh, his name is Ursula.

Ahh.

As in, "Le Guin."

It's my favorite author.

Ahh.

And where'd you get the little guy?

Ankara, Turkey.

You brought a dog back from Turkey?

Yeah.

What was I supposed to do?

Have you seen his face?

He licked my feet, so, it was game over.

Okay.

Anyway, I'm here

about that playwright, Lillian Waverly.

Yeah, I heard about that.

A Broadway playwright gets grabbed?

That is not a good look for Philly.

No, it is not.

And here's the thing.

The kidnapper is posting threats to a website,

and Kemi cannot get the I.P. address.

What's the website?

I got it here.

Look at you-- you got your own computer now

and everything.

Mm, turbo speed at 3.7 Gigahertz.

Eat my digital dust, bad guys.

Okay, let's see.

All right. Well, whoever is uploading to this site

is using a Tor browser,

but I have a brand-new packet-sniffer

that totally slaps, so...

all I have to do is identify

the WiFi that they're using to update the site--

And then you can find out where it's coming from?

Exactly.

As they say in Turkey, orada.

The Jefferson Royal--

a luxury boutique hotel on South 17th.

I know the Jefferson Royal.

It's right down the street from the theater. This is great.

- Mm-hmm. - Thank you.

- Anytime. - I'll see-- ooh.

Actually, um...

I do have another favor.

That favor tab is exploding.

You remember when I texted you that Sidney's pregnant?

Yes, vividly.

Remember when I texted you back, saying

that I was shocked that the baby-daddy

was not in a full-body cast yet?

Yeah. I don't-- I don't wanna hurt the guy.

I just-- I do need his name, though.

What for?

Gonna buy him an ice cream.

No, I just-- I just want to talk to him.

Can you help me out?

How do you expect me to find him?

You could hack Sidney's school email?

And I've just conveniently written it on--

- Oh! - ...The backside of this paper.

Wow, premeditated and everything.

That is wildly invasive.

That's coming from the woman who, uh,

posted a Brigadier General's porn search history

because he insulted her.

Okay, he had it coming.

This? I'm not so sure that I am comfortable with this.

Will you just do it?

Please. I'm not gonna do anything stupid.

Please.

Famous last words.

Hey!

Good job!

Hey, next time, you wanna pee on him?

I think that's a great idea.

Wayne said the WiFi used to update the website

was on a guest network at the Jefferson Royal.

So, it's a longshot,

but I searched the registry

to see if Reed Tillis stayed there.

- At the Jefferson? - Mm-hmm.

That guy blew his hotel budget on rot-gut rye.

I mean, ain't that the truth, but, um...

Let me show you this--

I found something very interesting--

a deluxe suite under the name "María Irene Fornés"

on a corporate credit card

belonging to none other than the D.B. Fischer Fund.

That Celia's husband's company?

That is the one.

What is his motive for kidnapping Lillian?

I don't know, insurance ploy maybe?

Don't know. Let's bring him in and find out.

Okay.

Mr. Fischer, help me understand your position here.

I'm gonna need you to be more specific.

You refuse to shut the theater down.

Lillian Waverly was taken from the theater,

but the scene was investigated, and cleared by your people.

I'm impeding nothing. All good?

No, not quite.

We have a hotel room

that was booked with your company card

that we believe is tied to the crime.

My wife booked that room. She uses pseudonyms for privacy.

Half the cast and crew are staying there.

She said it'd be more convenient.

Our primary residence is in Gladwyne.

You may not be familiar.

It's very expensive.

You know, rich guys go to jail same as poor people.

I've seen it happen.

Then those rich people aren't rich enough.

Look, Detective--

"Detective Sergeant,"

and you'll say it with some respect.

My wife's been cheating on me, okay?

Oh, she hid it pretty well.

Turned location services off on all her devices,

so I found a necklace that I could hide a GPS chip in.

Gave it to her for good luck,

and she's been wearing it ever since.

That's how I confirmed she was cheating,

that's also why I won't be shutting down the theater.

She doesn't get to parade around a saint to the arts

using my money, while also cheating on me.

Who was she having an affair with?

Lillian Waverly.

I hope that clears things up.

Well, what it does, Mr. Fischer,

is it gives you a motive.

Fischer's assistant gave me his calendar.

Wow, when does this guy sleep?

I mean, never apparently.

He does have an alibi for the time that Lillian was taken.

Fischer was triple-booked at a ribbon-cutting

for a new commercial development,

dinner at Chestnut Hill, and--

you cannot make this up-- a phone call with the Mayor.

Apparently he and the Fischers are all good buddies.

Yep, so the hubby is out.

Uh, but if he didn't take Lillian,

there was still someone

at the hotel, posting on the website.

Can you go through the registry?

Let's see. The show booked a block of rooms,

but there's still...

50 other people who are still registered.

It's gonna take me a minute.

Yeah, and there's only three hours till the deadline.

I don't care what Fischer says,

I want the theater closed and everybody out.

All right.

Joan.

- What's going on? - He's missing.

What do you mean, he's missing?

It's a good thing, Joan!

We just can't tell anyone. You hear me?

Well, what if he comes back?

He won't.

It doesn't matter. This is our chance--

You know, you've been working very hard.

I feel inspired.

Lemme deal with the theater folk, huh?

These people are just trying to do their jobs,

so, let's try and be respectful?

I'll be very respectful!

Sorry!

But we've gotta shut you down.

Rehearsal's over.

- What the hell is going on? - Hi, Phil. You remember me?

We gotta get everybody off the stage, like now.

We were told to keep rehearsing.

Yeah, Phil, I have not been in a theater

since my daughter's recital of the Nutcracker--

which was lovely.

This is next level. This is marvelous.

But these people could be in danger.

You could be in danger. We gotta shut you down.

Buddy, I don't wanna fight with a cop.

I got acid indigestion that could eat a battery,

a bad back from sitting on folding chairs my whole life,

- but my hands are tied. - Why?

Fischer'll have your ass if you shut down?

It was implied.

Well, how about this?

Hard hats.

Hard hats? What?

Yeah, nobody's wearing a hard hat.

Your ladder is the wrong height,

so we come in,

we shut you down on an OSHA violation.

Everybody gets out safely-- no harm, no foul.

Okay, fine.

This better not bite me in the ass.

Actors, out of costumes.

Crew, stand down.

We need to vacate the premises immediately.

Thank you.

Yes, thank you.

Philadelphia PD appreciates your cooperation.

Those damn fresnels in the window again--

No. No, Phil.

No! Off the stage, now.

Let me just shut everything down properly.

Take a second. God knows we don't want another fire.

They're weird-- theater people, aren't they?

Oh!

We're en route now.

Mike said you whistled in the theater.

That is bad luck. It is very bad luck.

Don't do that. It wasn't me.

It was this breaker box. Okay?

Someone jacked with these wires.

Wasn't an accident-- it was a sabotage.

- Sabotage? - Yeah.

That never ends well in the theater.

In Phantom, Carlotta thinks she's sabotaging Christine,

but all she's really doing is setting herself up

as a target for revenge.

You've seen Phantom, right?

Just dust it, please.

- Okay. Dusting. - Thanks.

Mrs. Fischer,

I have to apologize to you,

because I have to ask you a few questions

that might feel intrusive.

Whatever I can do to help.

I understand that you were

in a romantic relationship with Lillian.

I-I'm married.

I wasn't expecting to fall in love.

- Really, I-- - No, no.

I'm not here to judge.

All I care about is getting Lillian back.

I saw a production

of her first play

in New York.

It changed me,

and I started my own little company,

and I dreamed of, one day,

being able to produce one of her plays.

More of a... a pipe dream.

But then I heard talk that she'd had a breakdown

and nobody wanted to touch her work.

So, you gave Bainbridge St. a second life,

and Lillian deserved one, too-- am I close?

I wanted our premiere to matter,

so I told her

that I had a company and a playhouse,

and I had total faith in her.

At first, it was just a working relationship,

but then, Lillian is just so...

alive.

Derrick doesn't care what I think,

hasn't in years,

but she did.

Made me feel like I was...

like I was awake again.

This is all my fault.

No.

You cannot blame yourself for falling in love.

If I hadn't brought her here,

if I hadn't set this all in motion,

she would still be here with me.

She'd still be safe.

And we are going to work to make her safe again.

Together.

I promise you.

Okay?

Holy moly.

Okay, I did not see this coming.

What? You didn't see what coming?

This print-- it's the same as the one I lifted

from the card the kidnapper left.

Mike said that you couldn't get a print off of that card.

I couldn't I.D. it

because I thought the print was compromised,

but it's not the print--

it's the finger.

The finger has a disfigurement.

Okay, can you explain that?

Fingerprints are encoded deep down,

between the dermis and epidermis,

which means they can survive anything

short of serious injury or...

third-degree burns.

Uh-huh. So...

someone with a burnt fingertip

was skulking around this theater--

a theater known for its historic fire?

You think it was Colonel Mustard with a candlestick?

Our suspect's not just somebody angry about the fire.

They were in the fire, too.

Correct.

I'll get this over to the office.

Thank you.

Okay, so we're looking for victims burned

in the Bainbridge St. Theatre fire in 2010.

All the survivors were treated at the Logan Square Memorial.

I compiled a list of everyone

who suffered burns on their hands.

So where's that leave us?

According to the list,

ten of the injured

suffered third- and fourth-degree burns,

which is enough to alter the fingerprints.

Uh, since then, two of the ten have died.

All right. Let's get units rolling.

We'll need to track down the remaining eight.

Yeah, before you do--

um, there is a familiar name on this burn-victim list.

- Mare Grayson? - Mm-hmm.

That the woman who tried to throw Reed Tillis

under the bus?

Yep, and she also specifically told me

that she was unharmed in the fire.

Now, why do you think she'd lie about that?

I couldn't tell you,

but I very much would like her to tell me.

I'm bringing her back in.

Hi.

Why are we in this room?

You know, we really appreciate you coming back in.

I can imagine how hard it is,

reliving all of this.

Losing so many colleagues in that fire

must've taken its toll.

I told you. Of course it did.

Was it enough of a toll

that you'd want to take out that anger on someone?

Do you think--?

No.

I had nothing to do with this.

Then why lie about your injuries,

if you had nothing to hide?

I've lived with the scars

almost longer than I've lived without them,

but they don't define me.

A woman's missing and I tried to help,

but I didn't want to get in any trouble...

not after the protests.

What protests?

I run a group

called "Shouting Fire in a Crowded Theater."

We organized after Reed Tillis

decided to make a profit instead of a memorial park.

And how many are in your group?

A few dozen.

Mostly survivors, relatives of victims.

How did they take the news of the reopening of the theater?

They were hurt.

Angry.

Some more than others.

Our email chain got a little... heated.

I want you to know that I don't stand for that.

What do you mean, stand for what?

A call for violence.

Vandalism.

This isn't how I do things.

I told them to stand down, we'd lost, but...

some of the others were...

more volatile on the subject.

Ms. Grayson,

did someone in your group suggest harming

the people that were involved in the reopening?

Ms. Grayson?

There are lives are at stake.

I'm sorry.

At the time,

I just thought they were empty threats.

I need to see all of those emails right now.

Please follow me.

Mike? Mike!

Come here for a second.

Okay, so I compared the eight burn victims

from the hospital records

to the email list from the protest group,

and there's one name in common--

Robert Krasnow.

Who's he?

He's a computer programmer. Lives in Ardmore.

He was badly injured in the fire,

and based on his emails, he has a violent objection

to the reopening of the theater,

and get this--

for the last two months,

Robert Krasnow has been employed by the Bainbridge St. Theatre.

Tell me we have that theater cleared.

I mean, the last that I had heard,

Celia Fischer...

was on-site, locking up.

I'll send a unit over to the theater!

Robert?

What are you doing here?

I thought the crew had all left.

I thought I was alone.

Wh-- What's going on?

Your hands...

you always wear gloves.

Oh, my God.

You were in the fire?

I didn't know.

You didn't care.

The police are on their way.

You really shouldn't be here, Mrs. Fischer.

- Hey. - Hey.

What's, uh, what's the emergency?

And that thing does not have a-a visitor pass.

Yeah, well, he is a rule-breaker,

just like his mama.

- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.

What-- What's with the redactions, Watergate?

Oh, I just figured that your daughter

deserves a little bit of privacy.

Don't you think?

Don't worry, everything that you need to know is there.

His name is Victor Thompson.

He is 24 years old.

He is a graduate student at Penn State--

with stellar grades, I might add.

He and Sid met

at an inter-collegiate open-mic night,

- which is adorable. - Mm.

I'm about to tell you the rest,

but I'm gonna need you

to promise not to throw anything, first.

That's not a great sign.

Yeah.

So it seems like our Young Vic

is about to do his doctorate studies

in Sustainable Urban Development at Oxford.

Okay. Well, when do I start throwing things?

He leaves for the U.K. in two days,

so that is the emergency.

Oh! Oh, I see.

So he gets my daughter pregnant

and then he thinks he's just gonna skip the country?

- Is that right? - Well, "ish".

"Ish"? Give me his address, please.

Why? So you can chemically castrate him?

- No, not chemically. - Jason--

Okay, lookit. I'm just gonna go talk to him--

man to man, when this case is over.

I'm gonna drive up to Penn, have a conversation with him,

maybe I'll rearrange his--

...Regard for the female sex?

Something like that.

Celia, baby, look at me.

Hey, hey...

- Hi! - It's okay.

- Hi. - It's okay...

Hi! Are you okay?

I was so worried about you.

It's okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

Hey.

Robert, look, look.

I am--

I had no idea that you were hurt in the fire.

Okay? And I am so sorry.

Why didn't you come to me?

What would have been the point?

We care about our crew.

We could have talked about it.

We can help you.

Okay? W-We want to listen.

Thank you so much.

All right, so there were signs of a struggle,

but no Celia.

The theater had been cleared by then,

so also no witnesses.

Jason sent me this--

it's a list of all the names of people lost in the fire.

Wait a minute.

There's two victims with the last name "Krasnow"--

a woman, age 37,

and a ch... child, age 6.

He lost his wife and child.

- And it destroyed him. - We have a motive.

We have opportunity.

He took those women to punish them

for reopening the theater.

I mean, I sent a unit to his house,

but it was totally cleared out.

I put out a B.O.L.O., no hits yet.

Wait. When I spoke to Fischer,

he said that he, uh, gave Celia a piece of GPS jewelry.

He thought she was having an affair.

- The rich are weird. - Yeah.

Call Fischer. We need to see if it's still

- transmitting a signal. - I'm on it.

I'm grabbing Jay. Call when you have a location.

I got you.

I lost

everyone who means anything to me

in that fire.

They were my whole world!

Katie would've graduated college this year.

This is their stuff.

People told me I should give it away, but...

...it's all I have left.

My only job was to protect them, and I couldn't even do that.

Look, Robert, I'm-- I'm so sorry.

I-- I truly am.

But closing down the theater won't bring them back.

Every time

I look at that theater,

I watch them burn all over again.

Look, I can tell that you're in pain.

Okay? I can see that!

There-- There must be something that I can do to help.

It's too late!

You had your chance!

No one takes responsibility.

Not you, not Reed Tillis, not the city!

This won't bring back your wife or your daughter.

Don't talk about them!

It's okay, baby.

Just close your eyes and hold on to me. Okay?

No! No! No-o-o!

The GPS beacon in Celia's necklace

definitely shows that she's in that area.

The device isn't sophisticated, so the signal is weak.

This has gotta be wrong, Kemi.

I don't think so.

It's like a sea of storage units.

I'm getting a lot of interference.

Maybe the device is losing power.

I-I don't know.

But you should be in the ballpark.

You know ballparks are very big, right?

Just keep looking for her! She should be there.

I mean, there's no vehicles. There's no sound.

There's nothing.

Hold on, hold on.

Stop. Stop.

Hey, we'll call you back!

It's gasoline.

- You good? - Yeah.

Robert... Philadelphia PD.

Step outside. Get on the ground.

No.

Hey, hey. Listen to me. Listen to me.

We know what happened.

This right here is not the answer. Okay?

Think your wife and daughter would want this?

Someone has to pay!

No, no. No one has to pay. This is not gonna help.

Do you know what it's like?

I already feel dead inside!

I know. All right? Trust me. We lose people.

It hurts to stay put. It hurts to move on.

But this is not the answer.

I couldn't save them!

Okay, all right. I got it.

But you can save three people right now.

Yeah, you can!

Just let the girls go.

Give me the flare, okay? Come on.

Come on! Come on, come on, come on, come on.

Get 'em behind the car. Behind the car.

It's gonna be okay. All right?

Just give me the flare.

Come on.

I just want to be with them again.

No, no, no!

♪ Slips through my fingers ♪

♪ Everything I've got ♪

I know it's been a terrible time,

but that was amazing!

Please, tell Ms. Waverly if she ever goes missing again,

MPU will find her.

Matinee opening is not ideal,

but I think we pulled it off, right?

Yeah!

How are you holding up?

Poor Robert Krasnow made me realize

I've been handling things all wrong.

What do you mean?

I've only been thinking about myself

and about the theater,

not about the community that we're here to serve,

so I'm donating a portion of the profits from Aurora

to the Burn Unit at Logan Square Memorial.

Oh, that's so wonderful. Wow.

Um, I'm so glad you liked it,

but there's just one last thing I need to do.

Oh, yeah. Of course.

Thank you for your support.

I'm leaving you, Derrick.

We both know you won't.

You can't.

I'll destroy you in court.

Hmm. That's interesting, Derrick,

because I wonder what the courts would have to say

about you...

tracking me without my consent.

I bet a judge will think

that entitles me to a little something,

don't you?

If you hadn't been a bastard, I might not be alive.

So...

thank you.

How does it feel to have another hit on your hands?

I've written a lot of stories, but you know what I think?

Tell me.

I think our story tops them all.

Whoo!

You know, you didn't have to come with me.

Uh, yes, I did, for protection.

Oh, you think I need protection?

Oh, no, honey, you're fine. Protection for the kid.

Ah, got it.

Victor Thompson?

- He's right there. - The kid in the red?

Behave, otherwise I will sic Ursula on you.

Who's Victor Thompson?

Victor Thompson?

Victor Thompson!

I'm Sidney's dad. The cop.

You guys, beat it.

You, have a seat.

Oh, hi!

Ah! That's not very comfortable.

Okay, uh, so, um...

here's the thing.

I was young, once.

Um, maybe a little stupid.

Who knows, maybe I'm still a little stupid?

Oh, he is. I can confirm that.

Thank you. Anyway...

I'm just curious, uh,

where in that head of yours

did you think that you could get my daughter pregnant,

abandon her,

and that there would not be a consequence?

I don't understand that.

Jay, calm down.

- What are you talking about? - What am I talkin' about?

You're the college kid. Why don't you tell me?

Okay.

Yeah, I'm leaving.

Okay? But I asked Sid to come with me.

I love her.

You do, huh?

Yeah.

And I know having a baby is a big deal.

Okay, and the timing isn't great...

but I thought we could make it work.

So, what happened?

She said "no."

She said that she couldn't leave you,

that you've lost too many people.

I see.

- Hey. - Hey.

What are you guys doing here?

I thought we were going to dinner.

We are. Just, uh, have a seat for a second.

Okay.

I, uh, I know what you were trying to do...

and I-I could not be more proud of you.

This decision has to be about you, not about me.

Yeah.

I just knew how important

it was for me to be here right now.

Your dad's gonna be fine, Sid.

I wasn't just talking about him.

We're the only family that we have left, guys,

and I just worry about both of you.

That's really sweet.

Look, if this is what you really want to do--

really, really what you want to do--

you gotta get out of here.

Not-- Not forever, obviously.

No. Just until you find your own path in life,

and if that includes another country for a while--

We, uh... we want you to fly, baby girl. Okay?

Just do me a favor--

don't start drinking tea regularly.

That would be a bummer.

You guys are really gonna be okay?

Yeah.

We got each other, right?

Not just at work.

We're gonna join a dart league.

No. We're not.

He's still warming up to the idea.

Go have an adventure, okay?

Okay.

And what if I want to come back home?

Then he'll change diapers.

I'm gonna miss both of you a lot.

Let's go have dinner, please.

But, uh, Dad One is paying.

I'll flip you for it.

- How about that? - No, no, no, no.

Flip me for it? You do this thing where

you always just conveniently forget your wallet.

You think that that's a convenient forgetting?

That was a rhetorical-- no, I don't think that it's--

Okay, you guys! Both of you!

.