Original subtitles

Catherine? This just came in from Ops.

Somehow Cushing and Leeland were on it, and they've requested our presence.

Leeland and fucking Cushing?

- I guess they were first up. - That call should have come to us.

Whoever took it I guess didn't think it sounded like a match.

Bullshit. Hi, Wendell.

- Cold enough for you? - Yeah. I'm feeling it.

They're through there.

Hold that for me, will you?

Hey, Catherine, John. Want to take a look?

What do we got?

Dorothy Anne Samenov, an executive at Transitel.

It's a computer software firm.

Thirty-eight years old, according to her driver's license.

- She live alone? - Yeah.

- Who found her? - A patrolman found her. VanMeter.

Came here with a friend of the victim's.

Vickie Kittrie.

Right.

Last Friday Samenov and Kittrie went for a drink after work.

Dorothy here left the bar at about 6:30 p. m.

That was the last time anyone saw her.

She didn't show up for work or anywhere else. Kittrie got worried.

So what do you think? It's the same boy?

What's been touched here?

Just the carpet under our shoes, and not very damn much of that.

So, what do you think, John?

I think she's going to her grave wide awake.

Is this the same as the Maywood Hotel, or what?

Yeah, but she's been knocked around a little more.

With the eyes open like this?

The other tied down?

Same marks, ankles and wrists.

No evidence of a struggle.

Maybe she was into it.

Not this much.

Her eyes aren't open.

- Oh, shit. - What?

Her eyelids have been cut off.

Okay. We'll take it from here.

- No way. - We caught the first vic.

Yeah, and this is our catch.

I want to know, what's in it for you, Cush?

What's that supposed to mean?

We don't really want the media in on this...

so I don't understand why you're interested.

Oh, really? You're the one who wants to be in People magazine, Catherine.

"Twenty-Five Most Intriguing People. "

Don and me, we just caught the call.

Thanks, Chief.

Miss Kittrie, how do you do? My name is Detective Palmer.

I'll be investigating the case.

Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?

Okay.

I'm gonna put this on. Is that okay with you?

So...

Friday night you met for drinks?

At Seniorelli's.

Just you and Dorothy?

Some of the other girls from work.

You meet there often?

Two or three times a week.

It's on the way home.

You meet men there?

Not really.

Well, you do or you don't.

We'd just go there to unwind after work.

You found Dorothy?

- Yes. - You saw what she looks like?

Yes.

Vickie, is there anything you can tell us about Dorothy's private life...

that might make any sense out of what you saw?

Does that look like it makes any sense?

On Thursday, October 11...

Sandra Moser kisses her husband and two sons good night.

She tells the maid she'll be back in a couple of hours...

because Thursday night is her yoga night.

She was found murdered at the Maywood Hotel the next morning...

in a suite she rented with some fake I D.

On Friday, October 24...

Dorothy Ann Samenov meets a few friends for drinks...

at a place called Seniorelli's.

She leaves at 6:30 saying she's tired.

She was murdered in her house later that night.

You've got a rich housewife and a high-powered company executive.

Different lifestyles, different friends.

- We got nothing that connects them yet. - Nothing matches?

We got geography. They lived about a mile apart.

Same social background.

This is all low-risk stuff.

We got any trace evidence?

The bodies were washed. No semen, no saliva, no prints.

- You checked, did you? - All right.

The four of you are a task force now. Get busy on this.

Free association time.

One time when I was a child...

I was...

staying at my aunt and uncle's house for the summer.

It was in the middle of the afternoon and...

I went into my Aunt Ceile's room...

to get a sewing basket.

I thought there was no one there.

And when I walked in...

there was a man standing there.

And, I mean, I didn't know who it was...

and my Aunt Ceile was lying naked on the bed.

She didn't see me, and then, very slowly...

he raised his fingers to his lips...

telling me to be quiet, and I...

I backed out of the room and left.

My husband is fucking a woman who has practically no breasts at all.

I've hired an investigator. He's taking pictures.

And why did you do that?

I'm keeping a file.

Or rather, my lawyer is.

Why didn't you offer me a drink?

Because I really didn't think you should have one.

Dom...

what if I stopped seeing you?

Would you miss me?

Yes, of course I'd miss you.

You're the only person I can relax with in this way.

Really?

You're not fucking any of your other patients?

Bernadine...

no.

- So you're a cop? - Yeah.

You like that?

Yeah.

What do you work? Vice?

Homicide.

That's a little weird, isn't it? I mean, you being a woman and all?

- What do you do? - Mechanic.

I fix things.

Say you got an old lady...

and she comes into the shop, and she's driving...

a '72 Chevy.

She's hearing a little ticking noise.

Turns out she's got a busted transmission.

Gonna cost her 2,000 bucks.

Only thing is...

she didn't have any money.

What are you gonna do?

I'd say, "I don't fucking care. "

You're looking at someone's mother, pal...

and all you see is an old lady...

with a busted-up car and not enough cash.

All I ever see...

people's dead mothers.

Just a name on a file.

Guy in a Dumpster.

Girl in a landfill.

Little dead boy in a park.

Can you fix that?

I had a dream last night.

You've had this dream before?

Yes.

Please tell me about it.

I'm lying in bed at night and...

this thought comes into my head...

that my insides are slowly detaching themselves...

from one another.

Stretching.

Little gummy strings of me getting thinner and thinner...

about to snap.

My mother is a very beautiful woman.

Even now.

She discovered all the wealth of the Borgias...

in one prematurely balding executive...

and she was not about to let it slip away.

Even after they got married she told me I had to thank him...

any time he did anything for us, or she'd punish me.

So I did.

Whether it was for a gift he bought me...

or a glass of milk he poured, or when he put gas in the car...

I thanked him.

One day he picked me up from school.

He told me...

there was no need for me to be constantly grateful.

My stepfather talked to me as though I were a whole person.

He won me over.

I grew to love him.

Eventually the memory of my real father faded away...

and those...

dreams I used to have ended.

- You've heard a lot of stories here. - Yes.

Do you like hearing them?

It's not a matter of liking, Mary.

I use them to help people.

And where did you say you and Dorothy met?

- In Austin. - Is that where you're from?

You said that Dorothy got you your job.

Yes. After we met, she invited me to come here.

- And you moved in together? - For a while.

So in the time that you were living together...

you don't remember a single relationship...

that she might have had of any significance?

Come on, Vickie. There must have been someone in her life.

- There was one guy she was seeing. - There we go.

He was married, so it was discreet.

And his name?

Gil Reynolds. He's a senior executive at Westgate.

The relationship lasted the better part of a year.

We had no contact after it ended, and that was six months ago.

Relationship was during your marriage?

It ruined my marriage.

Rather, I ruined it.

I noticed you still wear your wedding ring.

- Yes, I do. - Do you live alone, Mr. Reynolds?

Yes, I do.

Can you tell me where you were last Friday evening?

Sure. I already checked my calendar.

I was here in the office until 7:00...

then I went to Chase's and had dinner alone...

which I prefer to eating alone at home.

They'll have a record at the restaurant.

Then I went to a movie and...

I'm afraid I only have myself as an alibi.

Was S and M between you and Dorothy routine, or just an occasional thing?

Now, that's to the point. Actually, it was neither.

You knew about her preference for it?

- Only at the end. - How'd you find out?

- She told me. - What did she say?

Well, not that much. I mean, I didn't really want to know.

We found these in her apartment.

You wouldn't happen to be the man in the leather mask, would you?

God, no.

Do you have any idea who might be?

I'm sorry. I can't help you.

Poor Dorothy.

She really was a lost soul, wasrt she?

This is Palmer.

Hey, Carmen, thanks for calling back.

Listen, I was wondering if you knew of any places...

that were operating in town at the moment?

You think you could set me up with a dom for a talk tonight?

Just off the record.

Most people that come in here...

are into the BD and the fetish side.

A lot fewer are into the role playing...

although that's what really releases the endorphins.

Gets you high.

I call this the "unthreatening" room.

There's another one, the "heavy" room...

which is a little bit more menacing.

And what's your area of expertise, Terry?

Japanese silk ropes and the finer...

psychological aspects of the relationship between the players.

I can tie you up so you can't twitch your ass cheeks.

Of course it's time consuming. It'll cost you a couple of grand.

Mostly the businessmen like that.

That's her husband.

He brought a friend.

It's all pretty harmless.

And as you know, there's no sexual intercourse allowed on the premises.

The alternate safe sex.

I'd like you to have a look at these.

Yeah. She came here once.

What about the man? Do you remember him?

No, because she didn't come with a man. She came with her girlfriend.

Dorothy brought a woman here?

I have a security camera over the front door.

It takes a still every time the doorbell rings and loads it...

onto my computer.

There we go.

Can you give me a printout?

- Hello? - It's Detective Palmer.

I wonder if I could come in and talk to you for a moment.

Sure. Come on in.

What is it?

It's the view from Terry Ross's front door.

It means that I know you and Dorothy were lovers...

and partial to a little rough sex.

A small oversight you made during our last conversation.

Who and how I fuck are my business.

No, it isn't. Not when they end up dead, Vickie.

Dorothy wasrt the first one.

I know.

Sandra was.

You knew Sandra Moser?

- Yes. - Did Dorothy know Sandra Moser?

Yes.

And you would like me to believe that this is some big coincidence?

The three of you knew each other...

and you're the only one that's left alive?

It's not just me.

What does that mean? Who else?

There's a group of women...

who like to get together without men.

And Dorothy and Sandra were part of this group?

Yes. Yes.

Did Dorothy and Sandra Moser have a relationship, Vickie?

Yes. They had a thing together back in the past.

Okay, how many women are we talking about here?

Some of these women are prominent.

Or their husbands are.

I don't care. So what?

So we don't use our real names with each other.

Doesrt this scare you?

I mean, doesn't this scare you just a little bit?

I make a lot of money every year.

This is my home.

It used to be a shitty little hole in the ground, and I know...

I'm not going back there because of who I like to sleep with.

That scares me.

Come on. Let's go.

Who were the men involved with Dorothy in this kind of sex?

I don't know.

It was something she asked me to do.

Look at the fucking pictures.

I'm telling you, there werert any men.

Then who the fuck is that?

When we did it...

it was just the two of us.

Is that it?

We found some unidentified hairs on Dorothy's bed...

and since you and Dorothy were lovers, we need...

to take a sample to find out which of them are yours.

What do you want me to do?

I need a sample from your head and from your pubic area.

Come on.

You can go into the bathroom and do that.

I don't care.

Let's just do it here.

Do you have this in a size six?

Thanks.

That's a beautiful necklace.

- Oh. Thank you. - A present?

- Excuse me? - The necklace. Was it a present?

Yes.

But not the coat. You bought that yourself.

- Right. - From Carmen DuPratt's on Swift Street.

I'm a clothes junkie.

Hi. Marishka.

- Bernadine. - Hi.

- Hi. - Here you go.

- Great. Thank you very much. - You're welcome.

If my stepfather had asked me to drink poison, I would have done it.

He meant that much to me.

He became my best friend.

We swam together in our pool, played games.

He loved me. He told me so.

At the same time, my mother seemed to relinquish any...

attachment to me.

My relationship with my stepfather seemed to free her...

to simply pay attention to herself.

I wanted to tell my stepfather that I loved him too.

I didn't want him to drift away...

from me...

like my mother...

One afternoon I went shopping.

I bought my first two-piece swimsuit.

It was aquamarine.

In the summer we would swim at night.

I liked that because...

the light under the water seemed very exotic.

And then suddenly he shivered...

and held me tighter.

I thought I tried to get away.

But he just laughed and shoved me, pretending to be playing again.

I swam towards the side of the pool.

I looked at my mother.

She hadrt seen anything.

Palmer.

Call on 511.

This is Palmer.

Hello?

I feel bad about today.

- Who is this? - It's Vickie Kittrie.

What do you feel bad about, Vickie?

About lying.

I know it was wrong. I just...

The truth isn't gonna bring Dorothy back...

is it?

No, it isn't.

There's gonna be a party tonight.

Some of those women you were asking about are gonna be there.

I could take you, if you want.

As your date?

Why don't you give me the address. I'll meet you there.

Hey.

- You look great. - Thanks.

I'm glad you made it.

- Want something to drink? - Sure. That'd be nice.

A den of iniquity.

So some of these women have stopped by...

after an evening out with their husbands or families.

Others have just come for a night out.

I get the ones with the husbands, but you and Dorothy, I don't know.

Why all the secrecy there?

Dorothy thought it would hurt her career.

Or at least, put the brakes on it.

She was probably right.

How many detectives are there where you work?

Seventy-eight.

How many women?

Three.

So, what do you do when you call it a night?

What, do you go to a bar with all the guys?

Listen to all that testosterone?

I like testosterone.

Gets things done.

And I don't have to lie about where I am at night.

So your husband doesn't mind?

I'm not married.

Divorce?

I thought all cops were married or divorced.

That what you thought?

Who's that woman over there?

Helena, our hostess.

She keeps looking over here.

She's just jealous.

Come on.

Hey. How are you?

Good to see you.

- I've got to go. - Really?

Yeah. Thanks for a lovely evening.

It was very enlightening.

No, stay. Stay.

Leeland spent the day over at Terry Ross's...

going through every still in her computer...

of whoever went through her front door.

Guess who was a regular.

She's been in between the sheets with both vics.

And she lied about it.

I say we pull her in right now.

- Can't do that. - Why not?

Because I've just come from spending the evening...

with Vickie and about 35 other women...

some of whom might be married to our bosses.

What, is this some kind of sisterhood thing here?

"Yes, damn it, there are thousands of us in every neighborhood. "

I don't know, Cushing. Why do you ask?

I've just never heard of something like this group before.

Oh, like you'd be the first to know?

This whole thing's a surprise to you, isn't it?

I don't think it's the key.

So what is?

Pain, and people who don't like their sex without it.

I think that's the door that lets men into this group.

I say we tail Vickie. See where it leads us.

Hello?

- It's me. - What do you want?

Filmore Hotel.

Fuck you.

You owe me, Vickie.

- For what? - The secrets of your sad life.

- They found out anyway. - Not through me.

- Yes? - What are they looking for?

A man in a leather mask.

Room 325.

Stuff's there.

She's in 325, alone.

What about 23, 27?

Empty. I'm going to go set up an eye.

- You okay? - Yeah, I'm all right.

Go see if Reynolds is around the back.

Gil Reynolds was a marine sniper in Vietnam.

February 1969 toJuly '71.

He did three tours.

He requested a fourth, but they turned him down.

A fucking sniper.

How eerie is that shit?

He was discharged September '71 with 91 confirmed kills.

We got any psychological analysis in his medical records?

No. The Corps protects its own.

What else we got?

His ex-wife Denise.

She left him after she found out he was having an affair...

with Dorothy Samenov.

Two months before she left him, she was admitted...

to the emergency room at Baylor Medical Center.

Severely battered.

Claimed she was mugged. Now she's missing.

And we can't find her?

Missing Persons checked her apartment.

Suitcase gone, a lot of clothes too...

along with the car.

So.

Is this business or pleasure?

What makes you think it would be pleasure?

You said you wanted to meet for a drink.

No. I said I wanted to talk.

I could have called you down to the station house...

but we don't have a DJ.

Tom Collins, please.

I saw you with Gil Reynolds.

I followed you to the Filmore Hotel.

I watched you do your little dance of death for him.

Gil does miss his old army days.

You gotta stop lying to me, Vickie.

It's not healthy.

Come on. Please.

Gil told me a story about when he was in the army.

He wasrt very popular with the other guys...

and one night they tied him to a chair...

and Gil got a boner.

That's how he discovered he had a little thing...

for bondage.

He's pathetic.

Let me ask you a question, Vickie.

Why does a beautiful girl like you...

need to make believe that a creep like Gil Reynolds...

puts a bullet between her eyes?

It's his sick game.

- You're playing it with him. - Not mine.

You're playing it with him.

Why?

What is it?

There's a worm inside me.

Men tend to bring it out.

But not women.

Some matches, please.

Hi.

Hi.

Let's go somewhere else.

It's Friday night. Everywhere's gonna be packed.

Why don't we just go to your place?

We'll be screaming at each other all night.

Let's pretend I've come here for psychotherapy.

All right.

You know that story I told you?

- About my aunt? - Yes.

Well...

it wasrt quite true, what I said.

The truth is...

when I walked into my aunt's bedroom...

I didn't find her with a strange man.

I found her with a woman.

Why do you think you told me it was a man?

Because...

at the last minute, I...

I couldn't go through with it.

With what?

Well, it was part of a plan...

and the story was an introduction.

An introduction to what?

To my story.

She's younger than I am.

And...

I had no idea...

what I was getting into.

What I was missing.

I had no idea...

that I could feel such things.

I mean...

things I've never felt with a man.

You've been coming here for five years.

Why have you never mentioned this before?

I've come here within an hour of having been with her.

I've had you both within an hour.

And you know...

I've never understood...

what it was that men wanted from sex.

Because it was never what I wanted.

I've always been left with the feeling of...

"Oh, well.

Not quite this time. "

- Who was the woman at the bar tonight? - Why?

The way you looked at her, she could have been an old flame.

She was. My husband's.

I thought you said you werert married.

I'm not. He's dead.

You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?

A drunk in a Buick beat me to it.

Did you cheat on your husband?

- How come? - 'Cause those are the rules.

He did.

Well, they're my rules.

- Why'd you get married? - I don't know.

Why does anybody do anything? Why did you choose Dorothy?

Because I needed love, not fucking.

I thought she knew the difference.

How'd you get swept off your feet?

I got fucked right from the beginning.

- How did that happen? - It happened in court.

He was a defense attorney... very good one.

By the time the case was over, he'd convinced me...

that the defendant was innocent.

And I collared the asshole.

Asshole got off.

I got nailed.

Well, I wasrt exactly faithful to Dorothy.

That's about the one thing we have found out in this investigation.

Do you know what I think sex is?

What?

A thrill.

It's like putting your head in the mouth...

of the only lion in the cage that's...

totally unpredictable.

Arert you just a little bit curious?

What do you want to do? Take me to one of your dungeons?

You'd be amazed at the use we can get out of simple kitchen utensils.

What's your fantasy?

Do you want a guy?

A threesome to ease you into it?

- I want the bad guy. - You want a name?

I'll whisper it to you.

Catherine.

I like you.

Is that it?

Is that all it takes?

I picked up a woman once because she was wearing a beautiful necklace...

with gold serpents and green stones.

Stop.

Why?

- This can't happen. - Why'd you ask me here?

To talk.

About what? What?

- What is it you want to talk about? - I already told you.

You want to know who I think killed Dorothy and Sandra?

Or you want to know what it was like to fuck them?

I want to know what you're hiding.

I come from a home environment where "family love" meant something different.

I left my little sister behind to take my place.

Can you picture that?

Can you?

We know who the killer is.

This is Palmer.

Where?

Okay, yeah. I'll meet you at the off-ramp on Clarke.

Hey, John, what happened with Reynolds?

Palmer and Birley?

- What do you got? - Follow me.

That's the husband. He's talking to the Rockwater police chief.

- They got here first? - It's their case unless you say "snap. "

Snap. What happened?

Husband came home from a trip, San Francisco.

Got here a little after 3:00. Said they sleep in separate bedrooms.

Said they've always done that since they've been married...

which is only a couple of years.

Bedrooms are located on the opposite ends of this hallway.

His. Hers.

Said he always checks on her no matter how late it is...

when he comes in from an out-of-town trip.

It's like it's the same woman over and over again.

I'll tell you something. I've never seen anything like this.

- Who is she? - Bernadine Mello.

Doesrt anybody still get off on just good old normal sex anymore?

Missionary position, then you watch TV afterwards?

I picked up a woman once because she was wearing a beautiful necklace...

with gold serpents and green stones.

John, when did they call time of death?

Between midnight and 2:30 a. m.

Why were you hiding this under your bed?

It was just under the bed.

There's a difference.

Souvenirs.

We saw your little dance of death routine with Vickie Kittrie.

Is that why I'm here?

You wanna maybe run it by us, this dance thing?

Well, my side of the story's fairly obvious, don't you think?

Well, Vickie was apparently...

the family mattress for her father, her brother...

various uncles and cousins.

I mean, that's what Dorothy said.

- Here's that address. - Believers in psychobabble...

would have a field day with that, I'm sure.

Hello?

Whoa, boy.

Down, boy. Down.

Down. Down.

I'm a police officer. Your door was unlocked.

- I came by to speak to you. - Don't you believe in calling first?

- Sorry. Are you with a patient now? - Yes. What do you want to talk about?

A patient of yours has been murdered, Bernadine Mello.

Give me a few minutes. Wait here.

Her husband said she'd been seeing you throughout their marriage.

- Yes. - How long was she a patient of yours?

A little over five years.

What brought her to you initially?

Chronic depression. The abuse of alcohol.

She wasrt one of my more successful patients.

Was she bisexual, Doctor?

Yes, although I only found this out recently.

It was latent, then she met a woman...

and then she was having an affair.

Did she say who she was?

No, only that she was younger.

Did she mention a Vickie Kittrie to you?

No.

Let me ask you, Doctor. In a case such as this...

where the victims have been so badly brutalized...

it's quite possible that the killer was a victim of child abuse, isn't it?

I'd say it was highly probable.

And that this would be some delayed form of revenge, right?

Yes, quite possibly.

- Then why are the victims women? - The majority of child abuses...

aren't necessarily men.

Society has a contradictory reaction to the victims of child abuse.

If a 14-year-old girl is seduced by an older man, it's a horror story.

If a 14-year-old boy is seduced by an older woman...

it's a coming-of-age comedy.

Frankly, it's a fantasy to think men and women as so different in such things.

Deep down we're very much alike...

for better, for worse.

I'd like to put something on the table.

We've been looking at this group of women as the victim pool.

What if one of them's the killer?

She'd have access to the other women...

they'd be willing to meet her...

and they'd trust her.

You're saying we're looking for a woman?

Yeah.

Catherine, look.

No matter what one thinks of the FBI profiles...

not one of the personalities they sketched out...

as a serial killer was a female.

Yeah, I know. Profiles prepared by...

male FBI analysts of male sexual killers.

- I read them all. - So have I.

The FBI profile shows a killer who hunts his prey...

kills at random in varying environments and they're all male.

Historically, female serial killers kill either at home or in one location.

- That's not what we got here. - We have three different locations.

I know how many different locations we have.

Look, you're saying that the killer has to be a man.

Why? Because the FBI says it can't be a woman?

- I'm just saying "Why not?" - I'm sorry. Did I miss something here?

- I thought we had a suspect. - Who? Gil Reynolds?

Gil Reynolds is a sick little fuck, okay? That's it.

Somehow I don't picture him the type to wash his victims...

comb their fucking hair and put makeup on their faces!

Dominick, it's Mary.

I need to see you. Can I come up?

I'm coming up.

I don't care that you're dressed up.

I have to talk to you.

This morning I wasrt through. We had to stop.

I had to tell you more about the little girl...

you know... me.

I lied...

or rather, it was like a lie because it never came out.

You know, really came out.

How long do you think I should have let him come to my bed at night?

All through my 12th year?

Until I was 13? 14?

16? 17?

But there was one more surprise.

There came the time of the worst part.

The worst part of all.

The worst part of it was... God.

The worst part of all...

was the night my daddy came to me in my bed...

and I enjoyed it.

See you tonight, Nance.

Oh, fuck!

Detective, have you got an I D yet?

It's probably in her bag beside you.

Detective?

Her driver's license is probably in her bag.

Her name's Vickie Kittrie.

She lived at 2201 South Almar.

Hey.

Well, that's that. Reynolds' lawyer'll have him out in 30 fuckir seconds.

Maybe Catherine's still right.

The dyke did herself outta guilt.

- Are you fucking crazy? - Fuck you, you fucking dyke!

Okay. I'm fine. I'm fine. Get the fuck off me.

What are you doing?

Excuse me. Are you Miss Hardeman?

- Yeah. - You know who that is inside your house?

I've already said I have no idea. What...

Her name was Vickie Kittrie. You know her now?

If you've been readir the papers, you know what this is all about.

Yeah, yeah, I know Vickie.

But you didn't know she was coming to your house last night.

No. I haven't seen her in maybe two months.

- What's she doir in your house, Jane? - I don't know.

You want to start by tellir us how the fuck she got in?

She knew I kept a spare in the mailbox. Fuckir stupid.

You have any idea who she might've met here?

Look, I didn't know her that long, all right?

We were four or five months till I found out about her...

her tastes.

And what were they?

As a surprise, she called it a dungeon.

She wanted me to do things with her.

I see enough pain in my work. I don't need it in my sex life.

Where'd she take you?

- Where was it? - Somewhere in Montrose.

There was a woman there. Her name was Miriel Farr. It was her place.

- You Miss Farr? - Yeah?

I'm Detective Palmer. I'd like to talk to you for a minute.

- What about? - You wanna let me in?

- You got a warrant? - No. I could get one.

Take a little longer and it'd probably just piss me the fuck off...

so why don't you just let me in?

- You alone here, Miriel? - Yeah.

- Where's your back door? - Out the kitchen here.

Hi, hon. You got any cookies?

Shit. Is this a bust?

Not if you don't want it to be. We just want to talk to you.

You mind if I finish packing while we do this?

Not at all.

- Where you goir, Miriel? - New Orleans.

- Better customers? - Better crawfish.

Okay, this is what we know.

Vickie Kittrie used to come here, work out in this little gym of yours.

- Sometimes she'd bring some friends. - Did she bring a Gil Reynolds here?

Hey, I'm talking to you. He's a regular, right?

Yeah, Gil came by now and again.

Who else did Vickie and Reynolds bring?

Sometimes Vickie went out slumming.

She'd cruise the dens, pick up girls, bring them back here.

Play whatever game she was into.

Sometimes she'd ask me to keep an eye on them.

You know what they say... lesbians do it harder.

Hey, you, baldie. Where are you goir?

- Come here, you fuckir cop! - Get the fuck off me!

- John, you okay? - I'm okay. Go on, go on.

Stop, motherfucker, stop!

Hey, you! Get down, you fuckir shitbag!

- How you doir, John? - Son of a bitch.

I go out on my retirement a fucking cripple.

Okay, stop whining. It's just right through the thigh.

You're gonna be okay.

- How's he doing? - He's a little ornery.

Nothing permanent. Sally Anrs with him now. Who's our shooter?

A real piece of shit named Clyde Barbish. Miriel's boyfriend.

I'd introduce you, but I don't want to break his train of thought.

- This skell just broke our case for us. - How?

It seems that Gil Reynolds' wife Denise did not leave town on her own accord.

As part of the divorce settlement, she was gonna expose Reynolds...

for the perverted shit that he is.

- Gil pays Clyde to put a bullet in her. - With a Colt. 45.

Mm-hmm. It seems these thickheaded cowboys...

they love their guns so much they can't part with them.

Now he wants to make a deal, and he says he's got the whole thing on tape.

How's that?

The deal with Reynolds went down at Miriel's.

She had a habit of videotaping everything from a peephole.

Reynolds is gonna need a real good lawyer to escape the needle on this.

Why don't you go get the tapes? We'll ruin his day.

Isn't your husband just the least bit curious about where you are?

He's out of town.

He took the boys to my mother's house in the country for the weekend.

- He does that a lot. - And you didn't want to go?

Every child's initial erotic attachment is to its mother.

This means for a girl...

she's first attracted to a person of the same sex.

The primary tragedy of father-daughter incest...

is the damage done to this mother-daughter bond.

It leaves the daughter with an intense longing for a nurturing relationship...

with another woman.

The little girl incest victim is torn too early from her mother...

and she is doomed to revisit through memories her father...

her betrayer, her abuser, her lover.

I'm going to paint our faces.

My angel. I'll take care of you.

You know I'm gonna take care of you, right?

Look at yourself. Look in the mirror.

Look how beautiful you are. Look how beautiful I made you.

You were so pathetic when I met you.

Come on, baby. Show us your tits.

- Oh, yeah? - Come on. Show us your tits.

- Why don't you show me yours? - You wanna see my tits?

Yeah, I wanna see your tits.

Take her. She's yours.

Pathetic bitch.

Would you like me to tie you up?

I've never done it before.

We can take turns.

I'm gonna sue the fuckir police department out their ass.

All I said was, "Clyde, is that you?"

And this fuckir bitch here, she broke my fuckirjaw!

You're gonna be charged with capital murder, Miriel. Four counts.

- What? - Sandra Moser, Bernadine Mello...

- Dorothy Samenov and Vickie Kittrie. - What the fuck are you talkir about?

You and Dr. Dominick Broussard.

Tall cross-dresser, blond wig, black dress.

You let him use your peep.

Maggie. Margaret Boll.

Whatever that nut did, I had nothing to do with it.

- He just paid me to let him watch. - Who? Watch who?

Dorothy at first.

Then if he saw her with another woman that he liked, he'd add her to the list.

Yeah, and none of them fuckir knew, right?

Come on. Listen, I worked LA and San Francisco.

- These women were a bunch of nuts. - Yeah, and now they're all dead.

Margaret, I have a story to tell you.

If you don't hear it, you won't understand.

You must have known it from the beginning.

The night in the pool. She sat there, her legs in the water, seeing nothing.

I must've known it. She was there watching...

when he did that to me.

I wanted to see if she was seeing, but...

I was too afraid.

She didn't come and kiss me good night that night.

I noticed that because she never did it again.

I became invisible to her.

It was then that I finally admitted to myself...

that I hated her.

And I wanted her to know...

that I hated her.

One night we were watching TV, she decided to take a bath...

and come back in half an hour for some show she wanted to watch.

As soon as she left, he started pawing me.

I decided this was the time to do it.

So I let him start undressing me.

For the first time, I let him take everything off.

I heard her footsteps as she came back through the kitchen...

and then they stopped.

I wanted to see her expression, but then I would've seen him on top of me.

So I didn't look. I just imagined her standing there...

until she left.

Then I just lay there until he finished.

He was pathetic.

Him.

Me.

You. I went to the bathroom...

and I washed myself off and I forced myself to go back to the family room.

She was already sitting in her chair watching TV...

eating ice cream.

That's when I realized I'd been bargained off.

There never was going to be an end to it.

I let him have what he wanted. We didn't have to go back to our old life again...

and you knew.

You abandoned me.

Even in the womb, you abandoned me.

I'm sorry.

Yeah?

Mr. Kittrie? I'm Detective Palmer. May we come in?

- What's this about? - May we come in, please?

Guess so.

Do you have a daughter named Vickie?

- Do you? - I haven't heard from her in years.

- She took off. - I have some bad news. Vickie's dead.

She's been murdered.

The girl never kept in touch.

Before she died, she was able to tell me some things about you...

and about her brother.

Is that your other daughter?

Yeah.

This is Miss Dawes. Miss Dawes is a social worker.

She's giving you a court judgment...

that's allowing us to take your daughter with us.

Miss Dawes is going to ask her some questions and then examine her.

If we find any improprieties or any instances of abuse...

- you'll lose your daughter permanently. - You can't do that.

Oh, yes, I can.

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