Original subtitles

Previously on Elementary:

Uh, we're here to see Fiona Helbron,

aka Mittens.

They say autism is a spectrum,

but it's really an array of different conditions

all lumped together.

I prefer the term “neuroatypical.”

The day Phil was arrested, you walked me home, we talked.

And I liked it.

Can we do it again?

I'm different, too.

From other women you've dated.

It takes a little more work with me.

I know that because I've heard it

from both my previous boyfriends.

I'm a little afraid.

I'm a little afraid, too.

What?

I was just marveling at how you were able

to sleep so soundly last night, given the incessant sex noise.

I didn't hear any sex noise.

Through the wall from next door.

Trent and his new lover,

putting the devil into hell even as we speak.

We just paid to have his entire place soundproofed.

Not well enough, apparently.

Oh, you're crazy.

Am I?

So, Trent has a new girlfriend.

You have a new girlfriend. Why is this a problem?

'Cause it's their fourth night

of marathon activity in the last week.

It's distracting.

Quiet is indispensable to my process.

How do you not hear it?

Just lucky I guess.

Perhaps it entered your mind unconsciously.

Were your dreams filled with two flounders slapping together?

A ketchup bottle being squeezed repeatedly

whilst a nearby walrus issues a death rattle?

Okay, I get it.

I assure you, you do not.

Don't. Don't what?

Mess with him. I'm serious.

No chain saw art in the study,

no marching bands in the library.

He's a nice guy, and we've just convinced him to move back in.

Not promising anything.

If uprooting Trent is the price of justice,

history will be on our side.

Finish your coffee and get dressed.

While you slumbered

we received a call.

Potential client is on his way here.

Must confess, Mr. Springer, your call

took us by surprise.

We wouldn't have expected you to request our services.

Why? Because you put two of my partners behind bars last month?

Not the sort of thing that tends to win us fans.

It worked out in my favor.

So they didn't commit a murder,

so much as provide you a murder-tunity.

Are you okay?

He'll be fine.

This is my son Brian. He's the reason I called.

And you're right, I don't like you.

But you're the best.

And this has nothing to do with my firm.

Missing Persons case.

A doctor named Vincent Bader.

No one's seen him for six days.

That's everything the cops have.

And you came in possession

of a police file how?

Let's just say the firm's security team

has its share of retired detectives.

Oh.

Pain management specialist, he co-owns

a center near Lenox Hill.

And what's your interest in him?

Minimal.

Brian's a patient, you'll see that in the file.

So you're a person of interest

in the doctor's disappearance.

There was an altercation

outside his office

two days before he went missing and threats were overheard?

Tell them.

I never did anything to him.

I was just mad.

The kid's never even hit a baseball,

let alone a man.

So you're going through

prescription opioid withdrawal, hmm?

You were seeing a pain specialist and now you're not.

Brian's always been frail.

One injury or another his whole life, mostly back pain.

This argument people overheard,

Dr. Bader cut you off your meds?

No, I did. Bader's the one that got him hooked.

Brian was trying to get some pills from him,

despite my instructions to the contrary.

Let's get you some tea.

Go ahead.

What?

Just going through my theories

to the origins of your son's chronic pain.

Not that I'll ever be able to prove it.

I remember there were a few photographs of him

in your office.

He was very partial to wearing

long sleeves, long trousers in warm weather.

At first I didn't think anything of it,

but now I'm wondering whether it was to hide bruises.

Yes.

Whatever chronic back injury he has,

it began at your hand, did it not?

There are two things you should know,

Mr. Springer.

First is that I'm going to punch you in the face.

Second... is that we'll take your case.

♪ Elementary 4x18 ♪ Ready or Not Original Air Date on March 27, 2016

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

Vince called me from his office Thursday afternoon.

Said he was going to the gym after work-- he has

a membership in the city.

And then he had a continuing ed dinner

at a restaurant in midtown.

He never made it to either.

There are two cars in the driveway-- is one of them his?

He takes the train.

You said you were hired

by the father of the kid

who was questioned by the cops?

My inquiries are on the young man's behalf.

Is that all right?

It's not like he did anything.

You may be right.

In my experience, the guilty party

rarely hires someone to investigate.

But, if you don't mind me asking you,

why do you think he's innocent?

For a woman who's husband has been missing

for almost a week, you seem rather unconcerned.

That's because I'm not concerned-- I'm angry.

Vince isn't lying

in a ditch somewhere, he ran off with some redhead.

Probably a patient or a nurse.

Someone he met at work.

And you think this because?

My two girlfriends

saw him buying her lunch

in the city a few weeks ago.

You know, looking over his shoulder, the whole deal.

They said she was so skinny they wanted to send over a steak.

I asked Vince

about it-- he wouldn't tell me who she was.

So what else am I supposed to think?

You mentioned none of this

when you reported him missing to the police.

If I had, they wouldn't have looked for him at all.

My cousin's a cop. I know how it works.

You should still prepare yourself for the worst.

The details of your husband's disappearance,

and the abandonment of his business,

they don't absolutely fit the profile of a cheating husband.

There's another reason I think that Vince is fine.

Let me show you.

Hmm...

So, this is meant to indicate that your husband

didn't fall into harm's way because it looks like

he's planning a small invasion.

Vince is a prepper.

Are you familiar with the term?

Yes, he's convinced that society as we know it

is on the verge of collapse and it's his duty to be ready.

I didn't care one way or the other,

as long as he didn't blow too much money.

Made him feel better.

Point is, Vince is

obsessed with self-defense.

He's not someone a mugger or a kidnapper

is going to get a jump on.

Don't get me wrong, though.

When he turns up, I'm going to kill him.

I don't buy it.

Vince would never cheat on Jennifer.

He loves her.

So the alternative is that something happened to him.

Well, that's what I'm worried about.

But, hey, I'll be thrilled if I'm wrong.

Please.

So you said you were out of the office

the day he disappeared?

My girlfriend had a... family thing

on Lake Ronkonkoma.

I took a long weekend.

Vince and I talked on the phone that day-- work stuff.

He seemed normal.

Julie Monahan, drug rep.

What about her? Mrs. Bader mentioned

something about a redhead to my partner.

Julie makes her rounds here every month or so.

She's flirty.

With all the guys.

Female docs, too, if it works.

It's her job to be that way, it isn't real.

I never thought Vince would have... acted on it.

Do you mind if I hang on to this?

Sure.

You know, you didn't need

to bring an attorney, Ms. Monahan.

Far as we know, you're not in any trouble.

If Vincent Bader's all right,

no crime has been committed.

I'm going to cut you off, Detective. You misunderstand.

Ms. Monahan didn't know Dr. Bader was missing

until you called her.

Now that you did,

she may have information that could help.

Whatever it is, she's worried that

it might get her in trouble, that's why she brought you.

Yes.

Is whatever she did

less bad than what she thinks happened to Dr. Bader?

By about a thousand miles.

All right, I can't make any promises,

but if that's true, I'm sure Ms. Monahan's cooperation

will be taken into account,

and I'd throw whatever support I could that way.

A few weeks ago, Vince came to me with a problem.

He had been selling narcotics

out of his practice to drug dealers.

Oxycodone,

hydrocodone, morphine.

He tell you the dealers' names?

He told me it started out small--

he just needed to make some extra money on the side--

but then they kept wanting more

and they threatened to hurt him if he stopped.

This had been going on for months.

Then he got a notification

from the Bureau of Narcotics Enforcement

saying that his practice was up for an audit.

An audit? They come to your offices

and inspect all of your controlled substances.

They check your dispensing records,

literally count every pill.

If Bader was selling pills illegally,

the count would be short.

The state would launch a full investigation.

How short are we talking?

Over $200,000 in pills.

Vince panicked.

He asked for my help and I...

lent him enough inventory, off the books,

so that when the BNE came

came to do their count,

everything appeared to be in order.

After that, he gave

the pills back to me.

He'd bought himself the time he needed.

It would be years before another audit,

so he could pad his records over time

to make everything even out.

Why exactly did you help him?

Because it put him in her pocket instead of the drug dealers.

She earned herself a big customer for life.

After that, he swore to me

that he would break it off with the dealers.

Whatever it took.

If Vince is missing, I have to think those guys are involved.

Watson?

Hey, where are you?

Midtown. I stopped by Vincent Bader's gym.

His wife said he had his gym bag with him

the morning he disappeared.

It hasn't turned up.

I just verified for myself that he never made it here.

It's possible he met with foul play

between his office and here.

It's also possible that he never intended to go to the gym.

The bag might have contained extra clothes.

He might not fit the profile of a cheating husband,

but he might be a runaway husband.

Especially if he recently broke off business

with drug traffickers.

So you got my message.

If they intended him harm,

he might be on the lam.

Any progress identifying them?

Marcus just passed Bader's phone records on to Narcotics.

Missing Persons already went through them,

but now that we know what we're looking for,

maybe something will leap out.

Oh, someone's at the door.

Uh, I'll see you later.

Fiona, hi.

Uh, come on in.

Is Sherlock home?

No, he's out right now,

but he should be back in a little bit,

if you want to wait.

Do you know how soon he'll be here?

Uh, maybe 45 minutes.

I'll come back another time.

I prepared what I want to say to Sherlock.

I timed it,

so I know how long it'll take.

And if I don't know how long it'll take,

I won't know when I'll get back to my office

or what time I'll finish my work,

and I won't like that.

Hey.

When did you get back?

Just arrived.

I saw the information Marcus sent over.

Emmett Wahl.

The fruit of the narcotic squad's labor?

Yeah. They recognized

a number on Bader's phone records right away.

But it wasn't Wahl's-- it was his mother's.

They have a wiretap on it.

Apparently he's been doing business

out of her place for a while now.

He acquires product for a pill trafficking group

called the Silver Rail.

Named after the passenger train

that runs up and down the East Coast.

A reference to their territory?

I would say you could ask Wahl yourself

when we talk to him, but I wouldn't bother.

He's been calling Bader's office every day

asking for him, including today.

So they don't know his whereabouts any more than we do.

What is that?

Methyl mercaptan?

It's the odorant added to natural gas

to provide its aroma.

What's it for?

Sherlock?

You honestly don't hear it?

What? Is Trent having sex again?

He's humming.

A few well-placed drops of this

is enough to simulate a gas leak.

You explicitly said “no loud noises.”

So evacuating him temporarily while the city checks his home

is honoring your wishes.

What is going on with you?

This fixation on Trent,

punching Lloyd Springer in the face?

Springer deserved more than a punch.

Is something wrong

between you and Fiona?

Why would you ask me that?

Because she came by earlier, wanted to talk to you,

but something about it seemed odd.

She's neuroatypical.

Conversations with her are often odd,

at least by the standards of those who don't know any better.

You know that's not what I meant.

Odd for her.

Marcus?

Hey, I thought you guys would want to know

Vincent Bader's body turned up.

The M.E. is taking a look right now.

The body was found

wrapped in tarp and tied with rope.

A couple spotted it off a path in Forest Park.

We think he was killed elsewhere and moved there.

Looks like someone split his head open

- with an ax. - I agree.

Sharp, heavy-blade wedging action.

But some other wounds

are shallow,

from an instrument with a narrow, hooked end.

Could be multiple attackers,

different weapons.

Or one attacker

with a multi-purpose tool--

something like that.

It's a hatchet, crowbar and hammer

all in one, and it's popular amongst survivalists.

As are the paracord and knots used to transport the body.

I think it's possible Vincent Bader was not killed

over pain pills.

You think he was killed by a fellow prepper?

The evidence would support that.

Would be ironic, wouldn't it?

Dr. Bader's fixation on survival

bringing his to an end.

Our condolences on your loss.

Uh...

I never, um,

met any of the other preppers Vince knew.

I knew he met a few in person. Mostly...

mostly, he just talked to them on the discussion boards.

We're gonna want to take a look at his computer, then.

Yeah, whatever you need.

I mentioned a redheaded woman

to the consultant who came to see me yesterday.

Yeah. We looked into it.

They weren't having an affair.

Oh, uh, I don't know if this is anything, but, uh,

Vince usually handled the money.

But with him gone, I had to look over

the banking statements last night.

He spent $100,000 on something a few months ago

that he never told me about. Maybe he kept it a secret

'cause he thought I'd be mad.

It was something called The, uh, The Keep?

That's what Bader's $100,000 went to.

The Keep. The very pinnacle

in luxury doomsday bunkers.

Built inside a decommissioned Cold War stronghold

at a secret location just outside the city.

Owned and operated by this man.

Ronnie Wright. Ex-Marine,

survival expert, huckster.

His sales pitch touts not only the site's

security, but also...

the exclusivity of its members.

It is pretty swanky.

If you're keen on spending eternity buried alive

with a group so narcissistic they think that

outliving humanity is a good idea.

I'd rather melt with the masses

and get it over with, wouldn't you?

It's not how I pictured prepping. I mean,

when you say “survivalists,” I see bearded guys

wearing gas masks digging holes

in their backyards to build shelters.

That's the garden-variety prepper.

The Keep caters to a uniquely vile subset:

the wealthy prepper.

Along with the myriad

doomsday scenarios that haunt ordinary preppers--

global pandemic, nuclear holocaust,

socialist zombies coming to eat their guns--

the wealthy ones also worry that the poor are gonna rise up

with torches and pitchforks.

Which, one could argue,

wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

So, what do you think?

Does this have anything to do with Vincent Bader's murder?

Mrs. Bader was right about him chatting online

with other preppers,

including much discussion about The Keep.

Dr. Bader and a few other fortunate souls

were accepted in.

Many other preppers, of course, were not.

Here we find an alarming amount of death threats

from the latter to the former.

So, maybe someone who didn't get into The Keep

got angry and then killed him.

The anger is almost to be expected,

given the existential dread that consumes this group.

To them, The Keep is a life raft.

At the moment, all we have are user handles.

But I can think of one man

who might know the name of every single person

he ever turned away.

Sure, but if they're all as paranoid

as you say they are, he's not gonna just

help two police consultants.

Which is why we are not going to approach him

as police consultants.

I asked around about your father after you called.

I don't know how I hadn't heard of him before.

Impressive circles he moves in.

The ninth is his favorite at this time of year.

I'm sorry?

My father is interested in reserving multiple spots

in The Keep, including ones for Watson and myself.

Glad to hear it.

We would need to vet your selection process--

see who you let in and who you didn't.

We would need to know who we were

bunking with. You understand. I do,

I totally get it, but I can't give that information out

to non-members. You wouldn't want me

telling the next guy in here about you, right?

Good answer. Once you're in,

I'll give you every single name.

We all hope it never comes to it,

but you could be living with folks for a long time.

First thing's first, though-- I'll take you to the site.

Once you see it, I promise you, you won't have any doubts.

I'm gonna need both your phones before we go.

It's to maintain the secrecy of the location.

Obviously you'll be given the coordinates once you're members.

We're off the highway now.

Rail crossing.

I have feeling in my butt, too, you know.

Mm.

I'm cataloguing the steps on our journey out loud

to keep them clear. It'll help me visualize

where the authorities will find our bodies.

You don't really think that they're...

I'd say we were on the L.I.E. for 62 miles.

Things are quite good between me and Fiona.

You expressed some concern last night.

I would allow, however,

that the, uh, the mechanics of the relationship have,

you know, left me in something of a mood of late.

The “mechanics”? Yeah.

We've been taking things slow.

You haven't had sex yet. We have not.

It's been challenging.

I've not been “exclusive” for quite some time.

For the last few years, sex has been, uh...

a calisthenic performed with like-minded individuals.

I can't, of course, commit to Fiona

and, uh, keep up my exercise regimen,

so... it's fallen away.

Yes, it's been 47 days since my last act of sexual congress.

That's a long time for you.

A really long time.

Yeah, well, Fiona's... special,

so I've decided to make a special effort.

I actually did some research on, uh, relationships

with individuals on the spectrum,

talked to some experts in the field.

I... think she's worth it.

I'm proud of you.

What, I can't say that?

Right this way.

Entry system works like a safe-deposit box.

Every member gets his or her own key.

My associates and I each keep a copy

of the second key on our person

at all times. One of us is always

within 30 minutes of this spot.

And we're never all together at the same time.

That way the bunker's always secure until it's needed.

And you and I can be sure that someone will always be here

to let us in when things finally go sideways.

Exactly.

This was a NORAD communications center back in the '80s.

Guaranteed nuclear survivability.

Tested it, have you?

Never mind. If it doesn't work,

we'll hardly be asking for our money back, will we?

Careful going down these stairs.

They're steep.

Welcome to The Keep.

Between those...

and the storage in back,

we've got enough to feed 80 mouths

for four years.

Obviously, these are all dehydrated foods.

One of our founding members

is the chef-- if you don't like his recipes,

you can tell him at dinner.

Down there is the utility wing.

Long-term storage.

Diesel generator.

When the grid goes down, our lights stay on.

Ultra-low particulate air filtration.

The Andromeda Strain could kill everyone up there.

We'd be fine.

The infirmary is also down there.

Fully equipped for emergency surgery.

Antibiotics, antivirals, iodine pills...

plus about a thousand Band-Aids.

We've also got a top surgeon in the group.

Actually, I'm a surgeon. Maybe I know them.

Nice try.

Come on.

I'll show you the sleeping quarters.

This is A-Wing.

Three more wings just like it.

Five bedrooms in each.

The game room is here.

The gym is in B,

Wine cellar, C, the gun vault is in D.

But everyone has access to everything.

Of course. Wouldn't want to separate the wine from the guns.

This is the standard layout.

But... you're welcome to bring in your own stuff,

arrange it however you like.

The bedrooms are your own private space.

Which is more than can be said for the cell

you're gonna find yourself in.

But on the bright side,

you'll be safer in prison during a disaster than in here.

Excuse me?

You're a fraud, and this facility

is a facade.

Your ultra-low particulate filtration system...

is nonexistent.

The concrete walls behind the panels are cracked from decades of neglect.

I smelled the mold from water seepage

the moment we arrived.

Granted, you've spared no expense

where it would impress your marks--

the fancy furniture, the...

...high-definition televisions--

but anything not immediately visible

is either missing...

...or woefully inadequate.

So this facility's incapable of protecting anyone

from anything.

Bet you don't even have a generator.

What is it?

That lock plate's new. Paint's been retouched.

Someone forced that door open,

and the concrete here is chipped.

It's been scrubbed.

What would you say that is?

It looks like blood.

You gave me your phone.

Got a good signal-- you should put that on your Web site.

Captain.

I just sent you our location. Watson and I believe

we've found the site of Dr. Bader's murder,

and the reason he was killed.

Basically, we're looking at two scenarios.

Both start with you conning dozens of victims

out of millions of dollars.

And the version you want us to believe...

It isn't a version. I didn't do this.

You discovered Vincent Bader

inside your bunker already dead.

Couldn't call the cops without risking your scam,

so you moved the body instead.

I know I did the wrong thing,

but that's what happened.

The other version is you were with Bader

when he saw behind the curtain, and for the exact same reason,

you killed him.

Let me tell you why we like that version better.

You told our colleagues it takes two keys

to get inside the bunker.

So, explain how Bader

got in there without you knowing about it.

Someone broke into my office Thursday night.

The only thing missing was a set of keys.

That's why I went to check on The Keep in the first place,

and that's when I found Dr. Bader.

I don't suppose you reported this break-in.

Well, he couldn't, could he?

Assuming the break-in even happened.

Your house of cards is built on the illusion of security.

What'll your customers think if you can't safeguard your own office?

He was killed with a hatchet.

Right? The person who did it

would have had to swing the hatchet

over his head.

You said

you're a doctor-- do you know about

impingement syndrome?

Inflammation of the tendons in the rotator cuff

caused by repeated stress. Why?

I messed up my shoulders swimming in high school.

I couldn't have swung a hatchet if I wanted to.

I was never in...

the Marines, okay?

They turned me down because of my shoulders

when I tried to sign up.

You got to be able to check that. Right?

All right, so let's say he's telling the truth.

Bader and someone else drive out to the bunker together,

they discover the whole thing is fake,

so the other guy flies off the handle.

Maybe it was someone Bader convinced to buy into The Keep,

so he blamed Bader for him losing his money.

Maybe, but we still don't know what they

were doing out there in the first place.

Check Wright's Marine story.

Make sure this shoulder thing is real.

If it is, we got to start combing through his other clients.

At the minimum, he's looking at fraud and hindering prosecution.

I'm pretty sure he'll give up that list of names now.

Apologies I don't have

any wine to offer you. Today's a weekday.

Tomorrow's also a weekday.

I don't drink wine on weekdays.

It affects my sleep. I've tested it.

Ah. Much as I would have.

The water is fine.

Thank you.

Uh, Watson said you stopped by. I-I texted you...

I have something to say.

I memorized it ahead of time...

because it's hard.

Well, I shall endeavor not to interrupt.

You're very considerate of me.

I've noticed that. Very careful.

It's one of the things I liked most about you

at first.

When we first started dating, it felt like you liked me

because I was a woman that you liked.

It didn't matter that I was neuroatypical.

That is...

it mattered, obviously.

But.. it also... didn't matter to you.

And now it feels like you're not being yourself with me.

You're being careful. You're doing

what you think you're supposed to do,

because I'm different.

And... that makes me feel like a project

or a problem for you to solve.

And...

that isn't the way I want to feel.

So...

I am...

breaking up with you.

Thank you for the water.

Marcus and I were going through the names of Keep members,

when this one caught our eye. Clyde Staller.

There's not much about him online except that he made

a truckload of money about three years ago

selling a software startup

and that he really hates paying taxes.

Sounds just like anyone else who'd be on this list.

What made him jump out? I recognized

the name of his company, Ardent Army.

Earlier today, Sherlock and I

were looking at discussion boards

that Bader chatted on.

One of the preppers he talked to

had the username ArdentArmy. Bader recommended

The Keep to Staller on that board.

And from the looks of the date in Wright's file,

Staller bought in based on that. So, if anyone

would be mad at Bader over the bunkers being fake,

you figure it's got to be this guy.

Staller loved to rant about

how much he mistrusts the government.

Maybe we can lure him to do it in person.

Staller's inside. Got here just after I did.

His skinny jeans make the odds of a concealed firearm

quite slim. That's good to know.

How'd it go with Fiona?

We'll discuss it later.

Whoa, you guys have the wrong idea.

I don't know anything about a murder.

You'd be surprised how many confessions start that way.

All right, you think I was mad because The Keep was a fraud.

I knew The Keep was a fraud.

It's why I was interested in it in the first place.

Do explain.

I'd like to get my wallet out,

show you my driver's license. Is that okay?

Why don't I get it for you.

Yeah.

My real name is Jeff Danks.

I'm an editor for Bunksaw.com.

You're a journalist. Yes. I'm...

writing an exposé on The Keep.

“'Ayn Rand Shrugged'

“by Jeff Danks. Of course a doomsday bunker

“for the rich is a scam.

“Aren't these the guys who insist,

'Every man for himself'?”

Clyde Staller, tech entrepreneur,

is a persona you created online.

Newly-minted millionaire, no formal education.

The lack of history is a virtue rather than a red flag.

Spout a few of the right political views,

you can infiltrate the prepper boards.

So how did you know?

Just good old-fashioned research.

I started out doing a piece on preppers.

Heard about The Keep and started digging.

So many people fall for cons like this

because the top secret thing convinces them

not to look closely. They're not supposed to know

who Wright's military advisor is,

so they accept that they can't.

But it leaves a paper trail when you try to buy

30,000 gallons of diesel.

It wasn't hard to confirm that they never did.

Same goes for his stockpile of food, the antibiotics,

his generator.

Thank you very much, Mr. Danks.

You've been very helpful. We need to go

to Vincent Bader's house. Specifically,

his garage.

Imagine how much help we could be

if you told us what we're looking for.

Well, I'm not looking for anything.

I'm hoping to confirm an item's absence.

Okay, so what are we not looking for?

As Mr. Danks ticked off the bunker's non-inventory,

a new theory started to develop.

This is a bug-out bag.

It's the absolute essentials that a doomsday prepper

would grab when Armageddon

finally dawns. This particular bag

is sold as a kit.

Included in that kit...

Is a multipurpose tool, like the one the killer used.

Said tool is not in this bag.

We've been thinking the tool belonged

to a different prepper. Bader's killer.

Or, prior to the discovery that the bunker was bare,

that it was a weapon of opportunity found at the scene.

But Bader brought the tool himself.

It must've been in his gym bag.

But why? We still don't know what he was doing there.

That's where the new theory, courtesy of Mr. Danks, comes in.

I know why Bader went to the bunker that night.

And with whom.

Appreciate you coming down, Dr. Wallace.

Hope you didn't have to juggle too many patients.

Not a problem. Anything I can do to help.

Great. You know Ms. Watson. This is Detective Bell

and Sherlock Holmes. Have a seat.

Some information's come to light about Dr. Bader's murder.

It could have an impact on your practice,

so... we thought you ought to know.

His wife told me that he was killed in a...

doomsday bunker.

That another prepper killed him.

We believe that that's what the killer

intended us to think. Your partner

had gotten himself involved with a group of pill traffickers

called the Silver Rail. We have reason to think

he tried to break things off with them but couldn't.

You think Vince was killed by drug dealers?

We would have thought that,

except they didn't know he was dead.

There was someone else who had reason to kill him over his bad decisions.

You. Because of the mess he'd gotten into

could have brought your whole practice down.

We'd been asking ourselves for some time

what Dr. Bader was doing in the bunker that night.

He had a need.

He had a drug gang breathing down his neck.

He had weathered one government inspection,

but his luck couldn't hold out. He needed pain pills,

and he needed lots of them.

The infirmary at The Keep should have had them by the thousands.

Now, Dr. Bader called you the day he was killed.

You said so yourself. Maybe it was the first time

he told you about the mess he was in. Maybe it wasn't.

Either way, you went down to the bunker with him that night

to help him steal the pills.

Now, the problem was the pills didn't exist.

So you did some quick math.

If Bader kept giving Silver Rail pills,

he was gonna destroy your practice.

If he stopped and Silver Rail killed him,

the investigation into his murder by a drug gang

was going to destroy your practice.

Either way, he was gonna ruin your life's work.

It wasn't fair.

But if he died down there,

the odds would fall much more in your favor.

You didn't know Ronnie Wright.

You assumed he would not notify the police

that a murder had happened inside The Keep

and put his con at risk. If there was no body found,

that was great. If the body was found,

it pointed towards Ronnie, that was still great.

Either way, your practice remains unscathed.

I don't know where you're getting any of this.

I told you,

I was with my girlfriend and her family all weekend

on Lake Ronkonkoma.

We checked, and that's true.

But there was about a two-and-a-half-hour window

that night when your girlfriend and her family

went to a movie without you.

You told them you weren't feeling well.

That's not enough time to go to the city and back, but...

the bunker is in Manorville,

which is much closer to Ronkonkoma.

So if Bader came to you, you would've had

plenty of time to help him break into the bunker

to steal the drugs.

That's a photo of you picking up Bader

at the Ronkonkoma train station.

As far as we know, it's the last image of Vincent Bader alive.

Now, please,

you want to tell me again how wrong we are?

Please, come in.

Thank you for coming.

I know it's contrary to your wishes.

I broke up with you, so we're not seeing each other anymore.

But that use of the word “seeing” is figurative.

We can still see each other.

I-I know that you appreciate honesty and directness,

so, um, I'll-I'll be direct with you.

I think you've misjudged me.

I say that without reproach.

I just think you should know.

You said you'd had

two serious relationships in the past.

It might surprise you to learn that puts you at least one,

and arguably two, ahead of me.

I had one great romance

in my life.

One would be hard-pressed to call her a girlfriend.

And even harder pressed to call that relationship a success.

I never felt

the need beyond that.

Part of the reason for that

is that relationships are hard for me.

You sensed that I was making

an extra effort to make things work with you.

In that, you were correct.

But you presumed that that was because you're different.

It is not.

It is because I'm different.

And because

you are the rare woman I have come across

for whom I believe that extra effort is worthwhile.

So whatever the future holds,

whether we see each other again or not,

I wanted you to know.

Is Joan home?

No.

I requested she give us some privacy.

Okay. I think we should have sex now.

Do you want to have sex now?

I-I don't not want to have...

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man