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No!

Hello?

What are you doing here?

That's a...

17th century Japanese katana.

It's very expensive.

And sharp.

Are you real?

Find me.

Who are you?

It's just a dream.

Just my subconscious having a laugh.

Playing a joke on me.

Yikes.

It's just a dream.

So...

my dreams aren't getting any better.

That's one way of describing it.

This nightmare represented

everything I've been going through.

How so?

My subconscious...

is manifesting the central question

that's been torturing me ever since I went back to my father.

What happened after I found the girl in the box?

Your missing time.

But as soon as I get close to getting answers...

Your father's thrown in solitary,

and the FBI takes you off the case.

Literal dagger in my heart.

- Hmm. - It's almost too on the nose,

if you ask me.

You disagree?

I can't disagree with your feelings, Malcolm.

They're yours.

But there is another way of reading that nightmare.

Were you aroused by this dream?

Sexually?

I was skewered.

Penetrated...

by a sword.

Fine.

There were...

some erotic elements.

Malcolm...

what if this dream...

is a different part of your subconscious

demanding to be heard?

The part that needs sleep...

food...

sex.

It's a little Freudian, but I'll go with it.

Not everything is about your father.

Maybe this is your chance to...

make a change.

Do something... normal.

Normalcy?

Mm-hmm.

Sounds weird, but, uh...

Taxi!

Malcolm?

Eve.

Um...

Uh, oh, uh, what are you doing here?

I live down the block.

That's crazy.

My therapist is right here.

You're in therapy?

Walk me to my train?

Sure.

I've been meaning to ask. Your mother, how is she?

Uh, no longer armed.

Uh, still a little dangerous.

Perfect. All women should be a little dangerous.

Um...

Eve, can I...

can I ask you a question?

Would you like to go out with me sometime?

- What? - Tomorrow night.

We could add dinner,

trip to the Met, Rhode Island...

I don't know, I-I'm still workshopping it.

Okay.

It's a date.

I have to run.

Will you text me the details?

Done.

I'm on it.

Hey, Gil.

Murder?

Great.

Uh, sorry. I don't mean great as in great.

I...

Forget it.

I'm on my way.

Vic is David Saverstein.

He and his wife own the apartment.

Maid called it in.

This place is nice.

He some kind of bigwig?

His wife is. Beth Saverstein.

She works at a hedge fund downtown.

Hello, Edrisa.

Cause of death?

Hiya. And yes.

His skull was bashed in.

So...

probably not the happy ending he was hoping for.

Did this happen before, during

or after the sex?

Oh, well, based on the...

uh, well, all of this,

after, definitely after.

I'll have to perform a thorough examination before I can tell

how long he lasted.

I mean...

I mean how long he lived

after the sexual activity.

Murder weapon?

Candlestick in the bedroom.

I had my money on the wrench in the library.

Mm, you telling jokes now?

Trying it out.

Where's the wife?

She's not been picking up her cell.

Initial thoughts?

This was a crime of passion.

- Ya think? - Crimes of passion

are wildly misunderstood.

The average person can't be triggered

to such a specific

and violent act of rage.

But sex...

is like psychological gasoline.

The wrong emotional spark, and you get...

an explosion.

Oh, you get an explosion, all right.

Sorry.

Could the wife have done this?

Perhaps.

But if Beth is our killer,

she walked in on the sex, she wasn't having it.

The candles, the clothes strewn about,

this wasn't married sex.

David was having an affair.

Hey, I've been with my wife for seven years.

Married sex can be plenty hot.

All I mean is,

uh, in a long-term relationship,

postcoital holding can be drastically reduced.

I went to a cuddle party once.

It was okay.

We can talk about it later.

Excuse me.

Hello, Mother.

Oh, Malcolm, how are you?

Honestly, I'm pretty...

I'm terrible, too.

What with this interview looming

and that junkyard killer dominating the headlines,

the press is having a field day all at my expense.

Yes, I agree.

This is... definitely all about you.

Tell me, how's it going with the FBI?

They've made it very clear they don't need me on the case.

I thought you were the best.

At least that's what I tell people

when I'm forced to divulge your actual career.

When it comes to me and the FBI, whatever the opposite

of nepotism is... that's what I've got.

But I've been speaking to Gabrielle.

I had breakfast, which is a meal that's new to me

but I'm intrigued by.

Oh, I even ran into Eve,

- and we're going to... - Eve? My Eve? And what?

- Where? - Mother, I, uh, I have to...

You're going on a date?

Did you tell her?

About Eve? Uh, yeah, it kind of slipped out.

No.

The Girl in the Box.

That she was real.

Uh...

I haven't found the right time.

She deserves to know, Bright.

- I know. - Oh, my God!

What happened here?

- No. Th-This is outrageous. - Ma'am, ma'am,

- Somebody needs to tell me. - just give me a second.

It's okay. I've got this.

- Are you Beth Saverstein? - Yes. This is my apartment.

Mrs. Saverstein, I am very sorry to tell you this.

Your husband was murdered last night.

No, he wasn't.

He's in the hall with our daughter.

Beth?

Beth? Are you...

Officers, what's going on?

If that's David, then...

who's the dead guy in the bed?

I mean, imagine if we'd been here instead of Connecticut.

You don't live here full-time?

Uh, we have a house in Greenwich,

where I spend most of my time.

Beth comes into the city for work.

We came back for a friend's engagement party today.

Where is Molly?

She's with Detective Tarmel.

He's... good with kids.

Do you have any idea

how the victim got into your home?

Does anyone else have access to your apartment?

Only the s-super.

Uh, and the housekeeper.

We're gonna need their names.

Mrs. Saverstein, this is a lot.

Would you like to take a break?

David can handle the rest of the questions.

Excuse me.

Don't scream.

You don't want your husband to know you're a smoker.

Or...

that you knew the victim.

I have no idea who he is.

You're lying to me.

Which is okay.

I'm not really a cop.

But the people I'm here with...

they are.

His name's Caleb Hardy.

We slept together sometimes

when I was in the city.

But it wasn't romantic.

What was it then?

We were...

We were part of a group.

A... community.

We explore fantasies with other...

...players.

Polyamorous adults?

Yes.

But it's all very curated.

Curated by whom?

Jasper St. George.

He connects members with compatible interests

and provides access to luxury apartments,

like mine.

And you offered your pied-à-terre

when you joined the group.

Which means

any number of people could've entered the apartment.

Caleb was a good man.

He didn't deserve this.

Are you sure your husband didn't know about your...

hobby?

God, no.

I love David, but he would never understand.

So how do I meet Jasper?

He-he only communicates via e-mail.

Great.

I'll drop him a line.

Caleb Hardy was killed last night

by blunt force trauma to the occipital bone.

Based on the bleeding and fractures, I'm estimating

three to four strikes.

So our killer was very passionate.

Talk to me about Caleb's gonads.

Oh, with pleasure. Upon examination,

we found living sperm in Caleb's urethra, which indicate...

W-W...

Why'd you point over there?

That's where Caleb's penis is.

I'm out.

Based on his sperm's motility,

Caleb was alive for at least a half hour after sex.

So, you know, it wasn't the worst night ever.

Uh, was Caleb married?

Single. Trust fund kid. Grew up in the city.

What about Beth Saverstein?

Were you able to match her to any of...

what was on Caleb?

The vaginal secretions?

Yes, Edrisa. Thank you.

We swabbed Beth on the scene, and she isn't a match.

She has an alibi, too. Work dinner.

And her husband, David, was watching football

- with his fantasy league. - Yeah, well,

his fantasy league was nothing compared to his wife's.

I made some calls. And the second that I mentioned

Jasper St. George or his community,

nobody wanted to talk.

Tech Services is still trying to run down that e-mail address.

All right, we need to find someone

in the sex industry who can get us keyed in to Jasper.

I may know a guy.

'Course you do.

You sure your guy's here?

No.

But how great is it to get out of the office?

Hey, can I, uh,

ask you a normal question?

I don't think so, but give it a shot.

I need some advice on a first date.

Nothing special.

Just a regular guy taking out

an incredible human rights advocate.

What's the move?

That's a normal question?

Well... I wouldn't start here.

It's always fun to do something active.

Brings you closer.

Friendly competition.

My wife and I like to play pool

every Friday night at Amsterdam Billiards.

Sounds perfect.

Oh, here's our friend.

Nico.

How are you, buddy?

I'm gonna chop off your hand!

What?

No.

You?

What are you doing here?

Relax, Nico. We were just hoping you could help us.

The guy whose hand you chopped off?

You mean the guy I saved.

What are you doing here and how did you find me?

Well, I've been meaning to visit.

I heard you bought this fetish shop with your settlement money,

and I'm always on the hunt for a good headboard restraint.

You're a small business owner now?

I'm proud of you, man.

Look, I'm not gonna talk to you guys.

So, please, just get out of...

Wow.

What did I tell you about reattachment surgery?

This looks great.

Just need some help, Nico.

Please.

What is it?

Jasper St. George.

Sex concierge to the freaky elite.

You know him?

Do you know how we can get ahold of him?

You don't.

Jasper gets ahold of you.

And he'd never talk to cops.

What if I wanted to meet him,

not as a cop,

but as a potential client?

Would that work?

Jasper isn't just looking for pretty faces.

To be a player, you have to have money

and a swanky apartment.

What if I had both of those?

Could you set up an introduction?

Stop fidgeting.

- You look great. - This guy's late.

I don't like it.

Doesn't necessarily mean we've been found out.

Jasper might just be testing your patience.

Just have a breadstick.

Sorry. Midtown gridlock.

Oh, you must have me confused with someone else.

I'm meeting...

Jasper. I know.

I'm Simone.

Oh, you didn't think

Jasper actually does these himself, did you?

It would ruin his whole mystery man persona.

So,

how did you hear about us?

Uh, Beth Saverstein.

Uh...

I've been looking to make a change,

to explore a side of myself

that I've buried too long.

Something inside you wants to get out?

Nothing too crazy.

Oh, don't sell yourself short.

Take the crazy out of sex and what do you have?

Boring sex.

We only have one rule in our community:

no relationships.

Lust is easy.

Love is dangerous.

Drinks are paid for.

Let's go.

Uh, where to?

Your place.

I need to sample the product.

We're going to have sex.

Are you up for that?

I... could give it a shot.

I'd appreciate some guidelines on how far I'm permitted

- to take this. - How far would you like

to be permitted to take this?

Relax. We're right outside.

Just try to get as much intel as you can

before it all goes south.

Is this fun for you?

I'm having a pretty good time.

Take off your jacket.

Right.

Oh, no.

Who was that?

My realtor.

So, uh,

this is an unconventional screening process.

Though I suppose I wouldn't recommend a restaurant

I hadn't eaten at.

In order for Jasper to perfectly match players

he needs to know their abilities.

And their desires.

Jasper sounds like an interesting man.

Is there anything else you can tell me about him?

He's a genius when it comes to human desire.

He knows what we want,

what we need.

So...

here we are, I guess.

I love a man who has his own restraints.

Do you like it rough?

Well, I have a high threshold for pain, so...

Bright?

Bright, are you okay?

Was that too rough?

That? No.

Though I may have lost a contact.

Um, why don't we, uh, just...

You're a cop?

Police. Open up.

No.

But they are.

We need you to bring us to Jasper.

I can't.

I don't know his real name,

where he lives.

We communicate only...

Over e-mail.

We've heard this before.

And this time we don't believe it.

Then arrest me. For attempting

to have consensual sex with another adult.

Or you could tell me what the hell is really going on here.

Caleb Hardy was murdered.

Mr. Hardy had intercourse

the night of his death.

We think with another one of your players.

Yes.

It was me.

And now you think I killed him.

- Did you? - Were you in love with him?

Answer my question first.

No.

I didn't kill him.

I took him to bed,

enjoyed myself,

then left.

And I loved his body,

the way it made me feel.

I loved that I could have him without consequence.

That's all.

Would you submit to a DNA test?

If my lawyer advises it.

Aren't you affected by this?

I'm devastated.

But that's not for you to see.

We need names.

Caleb's other partners, anyone who was upset with him.

A player didn't do this.

We screen our clients for emotional maturity

and sexual openness.

It's my job to make sure those tendencies you're talking about

never make it into our community.

I enforce the rules.

Lust is easy.

Love is dangerous.

You were listening.

Oh, right.

You all were.

Here's my card.

I'm leaving.

What makes you think that...

I practiced law for years.

If you were arresting me, I'd already be in handcuffs.

And not the fun kind.

Wait. Is there anybody outside the community

we should know about?

Jasper received an anonymous message

about Caleb and Beth breaking the rules.

He assumed her husband had found out about the group

and wanted them kicked out.

Do you think he was jealous?

Husbands usually are.

Molly!

If you keep pointing the stick at Lucien,

I'm gonna have to take it away!

It's fine.

Hello, David.

What are you doing here?

We have things to talk about.

Like the traffic cam footage that places you in the city

an hour before that party

at your apartment.

Hey, I'm Stacy.

Lucien's Mom.

Which one's yours?

Oh, I don't have kids.

Tricky childhood.

I'm not really dad material.

Ah.

Also I'm wildly dependent on benzos, so...

Hey, um,

Stacy is also the dean of admissions

at the elementary school that Molly's looking at.

Oh, I see.

Oh, the application process must be very thorough.

How do you feel about sex clubs?

Oh, he's funny.

Lucien Almodovar Chen!

Do not put that in your mouth!

This is a public park!

You know, the, uh,

jealous cuckold is really among

the more banal motives.

That isn't what happened.

Don't lie to me, David.

You went through Beth's phone.

You found out about her other life...

the players, all of it.

You even knew about Caleb.

I didn't know anything.

I had my suspicions.

The next time she stayed in the city,

I planned to confront them.

What happened?

I let myself in.

I wanted to catch Beth with him.

I wanted to hurt him.

But I didn't.

The woman in the bed wasn't Beth.

No.

And I froze.

And there were strangers in my apartment

in my bed having sex.

I didn't know what to do, so

I left before they saw me.

Daddy?

Hey, honey.

Why don't you go say goodbye to your friends, okay?

We have to get going.

The guy was alive when I left that room.

Okay? I swear to God.

I hope that's true.

For her sake.

Molly.

Come on.

Let's get ready for your date.

Sure.

This is normal.

Be a dear, step up.

Have you given any thought to a venue?

First impressions are important.

Your activity says so much about your intentions.

- Mother. - You know, the opera

sets a very romantic mood.

Followed by a long flight on the helicopter.

No.

Tonight's going to be normal.

Darling, we're rich.

We don't do normal.

I know.

Aah!

Vincenzo, give us the room.

Talk to me.

I don't want you taking whatever this is

on the date with you.

Clear your mind.

Tell me what's wrong.

I'm sorry, Mother.

Right now is not a good time.

Thank you for trying.

But I know what I'm wearing.

Oh, hell no.

It's so conventional.

Unaffected.

You're right.

This is great.

We're a bit overdressed.

He's always overdressed.

Shooting pool was an example, not an invitation.

Still, thrilled to see you.

Meet Eve Blanchard.

Hello.

JT Tarmel.

My wife is...

Malcolm Bright?

How do you...?

Uh, $10,000 suit.

Wild guess.

I'm Tally.

Oh!

You are gorgeous.

- Oh... - Here, take JT's.

Uh, thank you and thanks.

Honey?

Honey, run back to the bar, would you?

I swear...

JT told me about the psychic thing that you do.

How you, like,

get inside the killer's head.

How do you do that?

Uh... had a lot of training.

At Quantico.

Tally, give the man some room.

I plan to make some money off his rich ass.

Uh, next time,

we should play squash.

I'm very good at squash.

Right.

Good thing I'm here.

Damn.

If he'd told me what we were doing tonight,

I could've told him I was good.

Ooh!

Hey, shouldn't you have known that?

Like, being a profiler and all?

Ooh, can you do one of us?

It's behavioral science, hon, not a party trick.

Do me.

You don't want me to profile you.

I think I can handle it.

Okay, uh... you're not from my mother's world,

but you blend in effortlessly.

But you are equally as comfortable

in a lower social strata.

Social strata... who says that?

Uh, this is a clinical analysis.

- Okay. - Or do we not admit to our country's inherent class system?

Okay.

You were raised middle class.

I'm hearing the Carolinas.

You're very smart.

Elegant.

Social.

That didn't drive you to New York.

Your work.

To end human trafficking.

There's a reason for that.

An event.

Something deeply personal drove you here.

In truth, it was a Saab.

The faded heart tattoo on your wrist.

Looks like it's over 15 years old.

Which means you got it when you were just a teen.

Young.

An adult would've had to have been with you.

Which gives it real significance.

But it's not broken.

It's split.

So, who has the other half?

A woman.

Mother?

Sister?

Bright.

Right... they're gone.

Whatever happened to them motivated you

to help other women.

But no matter how many people you save,

you can't save the other half of that heart.

Eve, wait.

Uh... I am so sorry.

JT's right.

It's not a party trick.

Oh, sorry.

Hon, we got to go.

Dani found Jasper.

Tech Services traced Jasper St. George's I.P. address.

The apartment is listed under a trust.

That looks like blood.

Call the bus.

Emergency services.

Who is he?

Charles Garner.

Address matches.

Riluzole?

It's a glutamate blocker.

And that's a wheelchair.

Charles Garner had ALS.

He was dying.

And someone sped up the process. Why?

Because he was also Jasper St. George.

You're profiling a dead guy?

No, just reading the room.

Professor Charles Garner.

Columbia's Computer Science Department.

He developed early personality-matching software

for dating services.

Sold his work to Google and Facebook.

Then got sick.

Look at that.

Simone.

They were married.

Charles and Simone... why would she hide that?

For him.

She didn't want her husband to spend his final days

in an interrogation room.

She loved him.

Couldn't imagine leaving him, but the disease

robbed them of their intimacy.

So he created something for his wife.

A network of strangers

looking for sex with no strings attached.

He built a community

where she could find intimacy...

a fantasy life, an escape

from all of this.

Almost sounds romantic.

Central pulled this image off security footage.

Our killer leaving the building an hour ago.

Look familiar?

Is that Simone?

Looks that way to me.

Kind of puts a hole in your theory.

That doesn't make any sense.

Simone's femme fatale act...

the fantasy allowed her to escape.

Her normal life was here.

Call Simone. I'll do the talking.

I respect the profile,

but she's still our best suspect.

Who is this?

Simone, this is Gil Arroyo with the NYPD.

- I'm sorry to tell you... - Don't be sorry,

just call my lawyer and leave me out of this.

Good night.

Simone, it's about Charles.

Your husband is dead.

Wait. N-No.

No, no, I talked to him an hour ago.

He was fine.

Where are you? I need you

to come into the station.

Simone?

What the...?

Simone, where are you?

She's gone.

The real killer took her.

Where you going?

I meant to say I know who the killer is.

NYPD, Mr. Saverstein.

We're coming in.

What's going on?

Excuse me.

Hey! What's going on?

Where's Beth?

She went back to Greenwich.

We had a fight, as you can see.

Is your daughter here?

Molly is with her aunt. What is this about?

There was another murder tonight. A woman is missing.

We need to do a search.

What are you doing?

Thinking about our chat in the park.

Your story.

How you came into the city

to confront Beth and Caleb.

In this very room.

Except it wasn't Beth and Caleb.

It was someone else.

I told you all of this already.

To see them, you had to step into the room.

That's when you saw the other woman and froze.

Your words.

Listen, I want you out of here.

Come on, David.

With all these reflections,

all the mirrors, there's no way

they couldn't see you standing there.

Watching.

But you like to watch, don't you?

David, if you know something,

this is the time to start talking.

- We checked everywhere. - Place is empty.

Yeah, it's about time.

I want you all to go now, please.

You didn't come here to confront your wife.

You were here to watch.

But the wrong woman showed up in bed with Caleb.

In the park, you did the same thing.

When I said his name... Caleb...

you avoided eye contact.

You took a moment to bury something.

What?

Anger?

Sadness?

Beth liked Caleb, didn't she?

More than the others.

No.

She was in love with him.

The players weren't allowed to fall in love.

Tell me, David.

Did Beth break the rules?

Did she fall in love?

Did she kill Caleb?

This was where you watched them.

It's the best angle.

From behind this glass,

you watched Beth kill Caleb.

I can't.

David, is someone behind there?

- Is it Beth? - She's the mother of my child.

I tried to stop her.

Get down!

Stay with me, David.

Drop the gun, Beth.

Caleb was mine.

But she kept taking him to bed.

My bed.

I told him

to stop, but he wouldn't.

So you e-mailed Jasper,

trying to get you both expelled.

That didn't work,

so you came here to confront Caleb.

Give him one more chance...

to leave with you.

He was never going to leave.

He was gonna tell...

Simone

and Jasper...

what I did.

How I felt.

So you killed him.

A crime of passion.

But then passion turned to paranoia.

Jasper was bound to figure you out.

So you lied to us 'cause

you were planning on killing him next.

And now Simone, the woman Caleb

could never give up.

She... had everything.

No, Beth.

Her husband was dying.

All Simone wanted

was a few hours of pleasure.

The femme fatale...

that's not who she is.

Just like this isn't who you are.

Businesswoman.

A wife.

A mother.

No. No.

No.

Malcolm is avoiding me. I need to know why.

Jessica.

I have called and called. He says he's fine,

he ate breakfast, he's going on a date.

He was on a homicide investigation.

He's overcompensating and lying to himself.

And he is keeping something from me.

Now I am asking you...

The girl in the box was real.

Oh.

Paul Lazar confirmed it.

He told Bright there was a body in that trunk.

He gave us her bracelet.

Why didn't he tell me?

He didn't want you to feel this.

We denied his pain for years,

and insisted that this girl he found

was the stuff of dreams.

- Martin manipulated him. - Mm.

- And you. - It gets worse.

All the time.

I keep thinking that we will get through it,

get through him.

But it gets worse.

Martin destroyed the lives of my children, myself

and every one of his victims.

Maybe it's time that I find a way to return the favor.

- Hey. - Hey.

I'm sorry about earlier.

I didn't mean to make you feel...

dissected.

It was dumb.

I was just trying to be sexy and brave.

You're both.

I just, uh...

Sometimes I can't turn it off.

I'm never gonna be normal.

I-I... I've tried, but...

And I'm probably insane

for thinking any woman would ever want to be in my life,

let alone you.

You scare me, Malcolm Bright.

You scare me, too.

What do you want?

Find me.

I'm trying.

How can you?

You don't even remember

who I am.

Hello, Malcolm.

What are you doing?

Oh, my God! Bright, Bright, wake up!

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Subtitles by explosiveskull www.OpenSubtitles.org

Greg, move your head.