All language subtitles for Dexter.S01E01.Dexter.1080p.BluRay.10bit.EAC3.5.1.x265-iVy.eng-eng

Tonight's the night.

And it's going to happen
again and again -

has to happen.

You look beautiful!

Nice night.

Miami is a great town.

I love the Cuban food.

Pork sandwiches - my favourite.

But I'm hungry
for something different now.

There he is.

Mike Donovan.

He's the one.

You're mine now,
so do exactly as I say.

- What do you want?
- I want you to be quiet.

Now drive.

Turn here.

You have to listen.

And do what I say.

- Look.
- No.

Uh, yes.

- No, no.
- It's horrible, isn't it? Isn't it?

Please.

Open your eyes
and look at what you did!

Look or I'll cut your eyelids
right off your face.

It took me a long time
to get these little boys clean.

One was in the ground so long
he was falling apart.

I pulled him out in bits and pieces.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is...

Stop! That never helped anybody.

Please, you can have anything.

That's good. Beg.
Did these little boys beg?

I couldn't help myself.
I couldn't. I just...

Please, you have to understand.

Trust me, I definitely understand.

See, I can't help myself, either.

But children - I could never do that,
not like you.

Never, ever kids.

Why?

I have standards.

Soon...you'll be packed

into a few...neatly wrapped Hefties

and my own small corner of the world

will be a neater, happier place.

A better place.

No! No-0-0!

My name is Dexter, Dexter Morgan.

I don't know
what made me the way I am,

but whatever it was
left a hollow place inside.

People fake a lot
of human interactions,

but I feel like I fake them all
and I fake them very well.

Ahoy!

Ahoy, there, Captain!
Any big marlin out there today?

And that's my burden, I guess.

I don't blame my foster parents.

Harry and Doris Morgan
did a wonderful job raising me.

But they're both dead now.

I didn't kill them.

Honest.

You're different, aren't you, Dexter?

- What do you mean, Pop?
- The Billups said Buddy disappeared.

- I found the grave, son.
- That dog was a noisy little creep, Dad.

He was barking all night
and Mom's very sick.

That lousy dog was yapping at every leaf
that blew down the sidewalk.

There were a lot of bones in there, Dexter,
and not just Buddy's.

Hola, Dexter!

Blood -

sometimes
it sets my teeth on edge.

Other times,
it helps me control the chaos.

The code of Harry,
my foster father, is satisfied.

And so am I.

Harry was a great cop here in Miami.

Taught me how to think like one,
taught me how to cover my tracks.

I'm a very neat monster.

Dexter, are you there?

OK, Dex, please,
as soon as you get in,

I'm at a crime scene by the shithole,
the Seven Seas Motel,

and I need you here, OK?

Dex? Please.

Pretty fucking please
with cheese on top.

That's my foul-mouthed
foster sister, Debra.

She has a big heart
but won't let anyone see it.

She's the only person
in the world who loves me.

I think that's nice.
I don't have feelings about anything

but if I could have feelings at all,
I'd have them for Deb.

There's something strange and disarming

about looking at a homicide scene
in the daylight of Miami.

It makes grotesque Killings look staged,

like you're in a daring section
of Disney World.

Dahmer Land.

- You better be a cop.
- No. Forensics.

Dex!

Hey, what's up?

Jeez, Deb. Where the hell
do you keep your gum?

They found another hooker in the pool.

- Another?
- Chopped up in bits and pieces.

- The third one in five months.
- Third? You mean there's a...

A serial killer, that's right.

The other two were in Broward,
chopped up just like this one.

- Any suspects?
- Wish I knew.

I'm on Vice so LaGuerta sent me
to my room and told me to stay out of sight.

God forbid she listens to you.

Tell me about it.

How does someone so dumb
get so much power?

She knows how to play the game.
You could take a lesson.

- In what, ass-kissing?
- Politics.

I just want to catch this guy
before he kills another one of my girls.

Don't get so emotionally invested.

- You always say that.
- So did Dad.

Yeah, but he also said,
"Go after what you want."

- I want out of Vice and into Homicide.
- What can I do to help?

You get these hunches
with these types of murders.

- Only sometimes.
- Well, see if you get one this time.

And can I bounce some ideas off you?
I get smarter when I talk to you.

You just need
a little more confidence.

All right, I'll take a look.

Avoid LaGuerta
and talk to Captain Matthews.

He and Dad were tight.
He might put you on the case.

You're making me smarter already, see?

And keep the sex suit on when you talk
to the captain. It'll help your cause.

That's a nice haircut, Masuka.

I saw your sister. Damn, looking hot.

Yeah, she should.
It's hot as hell out here.

- So, why are you here?
- It's a crime scene.

- Yeah, but you do blood spatter.
- So?

So...there's no blood here.

What was that?

Yeah. There's no blood in or on
or near the body at all.

It's the weirdest thing you ever saw.
Hey, Angel, let's show him.

No blood.
No sticky, hot, messy, awful blood.

No blood at all.

Why hadn't I thought of that?
No blood.

What a beautiful idea.

- How does the killer get rid of the blood?
- It's hard to say.

The body's in good shape.
She had a nice ass too.

Head is over there,
if you want to take a look.

- This is unique.
- No shit. And no prints, either.

I've never seen such clean,
dry, neat-looking dead flesh.

Wonderful.

- Very clean.
- Yeah, but he didn't finish. No termino.

- It looks pretty completo to me, Angel.
- No, no. Look.

He cut the leg in four pieces,
almost like using a ruler.

But this leg is in three pieces.

Now, look, he started to make
a fourth cut but stopped.

It's possible that he got interrupted.

LaGuerta's looking for a witness,
working on the motel porter.

God help him.

No blood. I can't think.
I have to get out of here.

Dex! ¢Ddnde va?

- Where you going?
- Hey, no blood...no trabajo!

I wish she'd stop that.

It's one of those mating rituals
which I really don't understand.

But that bloodless body...

This guy may have exceeded
my own abilities.

- Morning, Dex.
- Morning.

- Hey, Dex.
- Hey, Sue. Dan.

How are the families?

Good. You?

- See you at the next bloodbath?
- Never miss a party.

Thanks.

Salt of the earth, these people,
and they work hard.

But with the solve rate
for murders at about 20%,

Miami is a great place for me,
a great place for me to hone my craft.

Viva Miami.

Dex.

- I like your other outfit better.
- Ha ha. You're a sick bastard.

Guess what. Sex suit worked.
Captain put me on the case.

LaGuerta wasn't happy
but she needs to get laid.

I guess. So congrats.

- So you got any ideas yet?
- Nope.

Well, start working on your mental autopsy
cos I could use your theories.

And thanks for the fucking doughnut.
I got to go.

Doughnut?

You keeping your fingernails clean?

Never leave home
without my rubber gloves.

Good boy.

So, anything new?

One of these days you're gonna tell me.

I already told you. Blood spatter
doesn't take up all my time.

I like doing it. Maybe I can help out.
It fills my nights.

- You have a morbid sense of fun.
- That's probably true.

- You should find a pretty girl.
- I found you.

Charming like your father.

- Just don't get me fired.
- Then who would I bring doughnuts to?

Angel.

- Una mas.
- Gracias.

De nada.

Just like me - empty inside.

- Where the hell you been?
- Crime scene.

What about the hotel cokehead murders,
this dealer and the girl?

Well, this Hallmark-looking couple didn't die
by the hands of a professional.

This is...child's play.
Messy work.

All that blood on the walls
looks like a finger painting.

You give me the fuckin' creeps,
you know that, Dexter?

Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.

- Fuck you.
- OK. Is there something I can do?

Yeah, give me your fucking
analysis on the blood spatter.

You think I'm here to invite you
to my nephew's bris?

I didn't know you were Jewish.

Shut the fuck up
and write your report already.

Don't even know why I need you.

Grab a crayon, psycho,
and scribble this down.

Rival dealer came in, two scumbags
slashed to hell, dealer stole the drugs.

Wham, bam, done.
I don't give a shit what you say.

That's what happened
and that's who I'm looking for.

Hey, we are looking for
a motherfucking thief dealer. You got it?

OK. Sure.

I guess, but I should get over there.

Then get over there already,
you fucking weirdo.

- I need it quick.
- I'm on it, Sergeant.

The only real question I have
is why, in a building full of cops,

all supposedly with a keen insight
into the human soul,

is Doakes the only one
who gets the creeps from me?

So this killer used a sword?

No, probably a very sharp knife.
Look at the blood spatter.

Look at the patterns. It tells a story.
You see this big pond of blood right there?

That's from the initial stab.

The male victim was standing right here,

and the killer plunged his knife
into the shoulder,

severing the carotid artery, and...splat.

- Notice the long, thick, heavy drips?
- Yeah, nice.

Now, over here, you have nice,
clean sprays of blood.

That only happens when you're holding
something light and moving quick -

nice, sharp slices through the body.

No splashes, no drips.

Clean and easy.

This guy knew how to use a blade.

So we're looking for a sushi chef.

Yeah, sushi chef is possible.

Wouldn't be my first choice,
but, hey, you never know.

- Now what?
- Now I eat.

The problem with eating
and driving, which I love to do,

is not being able to employ
the ten-two hand position on the wheel.

It's a matter of public safety.

But there's always a sacrifice.

This guy, Jamie Jaworski.

Six months ago, I think
he fell in love with a pretty brunette,

Mrs Jane Saunders -

a sweet mother of two married
to a successful banker -

all living a pleasant life
until she, unfortunately, disappeared,

leaving the kids
emotionally devastated forever.

The cops arrested my favourite valet

but his lawyer got him off
on a faulty search warrant.

It's a good thing I don't bother with them.

Animals don't like me, especially dogs.

I don't think they approve
of what I sometimes do to their masters.

That dog recognises me
as easily as I can recognise Jaworski

or any other Killer.

Interesting taste in literature.

His needs are evolving, turning violent.

He's on the fast track.

Have you ever
wanted to kill anything else?

You know, something bigger than a dog?

Yes.

Like a person?

Yeah, but no one in particular.

Why didn't you?

I thought you and Mom wouldn't like it.

Come here.

Friday night - date night in Miami.

Every night is date night in Miami
and everyone's having sex.

But for me sex never enters into it.

I don't understand sex.
Not that I have anything against women

and I certainly have an appropriate
sensibility about men, but...

when it comes
to the actual act...of sex,

it's always just seemed so...

undignified.

But I have to play the game.

And after years of trying to look normal,
I think I met the right woman for me.

Deb saved her life
on a domestic-dispute call, introduced us,

and we've been dating for six months now.

She's perfect because Rita is,
in her own way,

as damaged as me.

I'm running late. I'll just be a sec.
I have to change.

Okey-doke.

Hi, Dexter.

May I say that you look lovely
this evening?

OK.

Master Cody, handsome as ever.
High five.

Do the Space Shuttle.

Vanilla...

chocolate, and strawberry.

No coffee?

Which one do you think melts faster?

Ready?

Rita's ex-hubby, the crack addict,

repeatedly raped her,
knocked her around.

Ever since then, she's been
completely uninterested in sex.

That works for me.

- Will you be back?
- Of course I'll be back.

I meant Dexter.

- You'll be asleep.
- No, I won't.

Then [I'll stop in and we'll all play cards.
Texas hold 'em?

Give Mommy a kiss.

- Ready?
- Yeah.

Needless to say,
I have some unusual habits.

Yet all these socially acceptable people

can't wait to pick up hammers
and publicly smash their food to bits.

Normal people are so hostile...

but not her.

Where are we going?

They might need me.

Just stay right there.
I'll be right back.

Son of a whore.

Who?

Talking about this hijo de puta,
this asshole killer,

this maricén savage who makes us
work on a Friday night.

Only Mondays through Thursdays,
that's what I always say.

Of course, coro, be reasonable.

Who wants to work on a Friday night?

I have my needs.

So, como estas?
What are you doing here?

- I was in the neighbourhood. I'm on a date.
- A date? Nice.

- Same guy, same pattern.
- Bone dry.

No blood again. Pero mira esto.

There's some small differences
in the cuts this time.

Over here - rough, almost emotion.

Then over here, not so much.

And then over here - clean.

- Muy bien.
- Yeah, nice. But look at this.

All bone.

The killer flayed the skin,
the flesh, completely off.

Now, why would he do that?

He's experimenting.
He's trying to find the right way.

- Is he experimenting with the head, too?
- What do you mean?

I mean, /a bestia left her tits
and took her fucking head.

I don't find anyone around here.
God only knows what he's doing with it.

He's certainly raising the bar. Damn.

This guy is good.

Will they catch him soon?

I doubt it.

- The killer is an artist.
- What do you mean?

His technique...is incredible.

I'm sorry. I don't think I want to.

I mean, I'm not ready.

Damn it, Dexter.

What have I done now?

And why can't I get that neat stack
of body parts out of my head?

No blood.

Why did I touch her that way?

I need to get back to my work.

Jaworski's website -
Scream, Bitch, Scream -

the mother of all rape sites.

That's it. He's definitely the one.

It's just a matter of time before he becomes
a drop of blood in my glass slide collection.

But I have to wait.
I have to be careful

and follow the code of Harry.

Hey, Dad.

- I can explain.
- You and I had an understanding.

Whenever you get an urge, you tell me,
and we deal with it together.

- I do tell you, Dad.
- The hell you do!

- There's blood on this knife.
- Animals. I find animals, that's all.

Are you sure?

- Are you telling me the truth?
- Yes.

I thought we had this under control.

You still don't remember
anything from before,

- you know, before we took you in?
- No.

Is that why I have these urges?

What happened
changed something inside you.

It got into you too early.

Your urge to kill
is only gonna get stronger.

You're saying I'll be like this forever.

You're a good kid, Dex.

You are. Otherwise, it would have been
a lot worse than animals.

OK? We can't stop this.

But maybe...

we can do something to channel it.

- Use it for good.
- How could it ever be good?

Son, there are people out there
who do really bad things.

Terrible people.

And the police can't catch them all.

Do you understand what I'm saying?

You're saying they deserve it.

That's right.

But, of course, you have
to learn how to spot them,

how to cover your tracks.

But I can teach you.

- Dad...
- It's OK, Dex.

You can't help what happened to you,

but you can make the best of it.

Remember this forever.

You are my son.

You are not alone and you are loved.

OK.

Preparation is vital.
No detail can be overlooked.

And the ritual is intoxicating.

Duct tape,

rubber sheets.

Necessary tools of the trade.

You can't bullshit me, Dex.

Help me out. LaGuerta still
has me interviewing hookers.

It's a waste of time.

Deb, if he was interrupted...

Think.

Jesus Christ, right.

Then how do you have
time to wrap all the pieces?

She's dumber than the boat people.
Throw her a fucking raft.

But now we have a fourth body,
and the cuts were different.

And that's telling us a story.
The ritual is changing.

He's looking for inspiration
and not finding it.

- So he keeps doing it until he gets it right.
- I could be wrong.

So how the hell was your date
with Rita last night?

Great. You should try it sometime.
You need a life.

Well, find me a guy I can trust.

I need a transfer to Homicide, bro,
then we'll see about a life.

It certainly would sound better

for the kids to say,
"Mommy's on Homicide."

- Don't make me hit you.
- Come on.

We could talk about more
little Morgans, nephews and nieces.

- What's wrong with that?
- You sound like Mom.

Just tell me what you know
about cell crystallisation.

What do you mean?

I heard the coroner say it last night.
He was talking about that dead...

- The headless chick.
- You got that look in your eye.

I was there before you,

And I noticed this body looked
different than the other ones.

The pieces were cold.

They were meat-packing cold.
Is that what cell crystallisation means?

My God, why didn't I think of that?
It's beautiful.

Dex?

- What are you thinking?
- Sorry. I'd...

That makes sense. Cold.

- It slows the flow of blood.
- Why the hell is that important?

It's just a feeling.

Well, it's not good enough.

I got to show LaGuerta and her boys.
They're making fun of me. They're...

They're saying the only way
I can close a case is on my back.

I got to get out of Vice.
Dex, please, you got to...

Refrigerated truck.

What the fuck are you talking about?

A refrigerated truck.

He wants a cold environment
to slow the flow of blood,

clean and mobile so he can dump
the garbage afterwards.

So I'm looking
for a refrigerated truck now?

Probably a stolen one.

You think there are
a lot of stolen trucks out there?

Are you nuts? In Miami?

Choir. Kids.

Can't you do something?
Just find my husband.

Ma'am, the detectives
are looking into everything.

I'm pretty sure I covered all my tracks.

What do you care about that woman?

I don't. I was just...

You like when women cry?
You like that?

- What's your thing, psycho?
- I was just heading to the briefing room.

You got no call to be in there, so flee.
Lieutenant, this fucking guy doesn't belong.

I'm still waiting for his spatter report
on the cokehead murders. Go do that.

It's OK. I don't want to upset anybody.

He can stay. I'd like your input,
We'll discuss your case after the meeting.

How about we get started?

- ¢Encontraste algo?
- Nada todavia.

- Hazme un favor y quitate la gorra.
- Disctlpame.

- You ready?
- I'm gonna shame this bitch.

OK. Just state your case clean and easy.
You'll be the hero.

OK, settle down.

Now, has anyone tracked down
that witness?

Oh, come on, people.
Someone needs to find something here.

Lieutenant LaGuerta?

Officer Morgan.
I didn't recognise you with your clothes on.

I have an idea,
something in a different direction.

An idea"?

Well, please, share it with us.

- Cell crystallisation.
- Excuse me?

A little more confidence, please.

On the last victim, I'd like to check and see

if any refrigerated trucks
have been stolen in the last week or so.

Refrigerated trucks like ice-cream trucks?

No...not ice-cream trucks.

A refrigerated vehicle that could cause
that kind of tissue damage.

A refrigerated truck that's mobile

so he'll be harder to catch.

A refrigerated truck
that might give us a lead.

That's very interesting, very creative,
but let's keep looking for the witness.

We know that he or she is out there.

The interrupted cut proves
that there was an eyewitness.

Now, somebody out there saw something,

so let's concentrate
on finding that person, OK?

- But...
- Just keep talking to all your hookers.

That's all for today.

What the fuck was I supposed to say?

I'm only in here because
the Captain said they had to let me in.

But he didn't say they had to listen to you.

Well, right again.

So say adios to my career.
I'm gonna die a meter maid.

Stop it. Deb, there's another way.
Find the truck.

Excuse me, Dexter... My office, please.

What the hell?

What the fuck?

Are you boning her?

- No.
- Oh, my God!

- Deb, wait.
- Shut up.

It had nothing to do with drugs.

- LT, this is a waste of our damn time.
- I think Sergeant Doakes is right.

I read all the other forensic analysis.

The cokehead murders had nothing to do
with cocaine. It was a crime of passion.

The murderer came to Kill
the woman, not the dealer.

He did him quick
and got him out of the way.

But he sure as hell took his time
slicing up that lady.

You don't do that unless you have a close,
personal relationship with someone.

Probably an ex-boyfriend.
That's who I'd look for.

OK.

It's a bit of a push, but, Sergeant,
you should check it out.

I'm watching you, motherfucker.

Jaworski's been coming here for weeks -
likes to steal all the copper plumbing.

There's good money in that.

No security guards - that's good.

Fuck!

- Talk.
- What do you mean?

- I think you know what I mean.
- No.

Oh, God!

Talk to me about Jane Saunders.

OK. I did her.

- How?
- In a movie, snuff film.

- But I'm not sorry.
- Of course not.

Now I'm not sorry, either.

- Hello?
- Hey.

I'm...I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry

about the other night, but...

Look, Dex, I really, really need to see you.

So can you come by later,

you know, just...just for, like, a little while?
I mean, I just... I'm really...

All right. What are you doing now?

I'm just finishing up a little project,
but I'll come by later.

OK, bye.

All in all, it was a good night.

One less amateur filmmaker
polluting the internet.

No way.

Give us a minute.

- Hanging in there?
- This will teach me to tailgate.

- Let's go over this again.
- I'm all yours.

So...

Of all the ice trucks in Miami -

- Bit of a coincidence, don't you think?
- Sure, during business hours, but...

this time of night, a truck like that sticks out.

- And you followed it.
- That's right.

- You never saw the driver?
- Just high beams and a flying head.

So then he must have already had
the head with him in the front seat.

That's weird. Why would he keep it there?

I don't know, so he could use
a carpool lane?

It just seems odd.

Your sister has this ice-truck theory,
and then here you are to back it up.

She's good, Lieutenant.
You should give her a chance.

You know, you should call me Maria.

But I'll tell you who's good - you are.

Doakes picked up the killer
in the cokehead murders.

You were right. It was her boyfriend.

- Of course, Doakes still hates you.
- Of course.

Tell me, Dexter,

how did you get to be so smart, hm?

Lots of sleep.

Is it OK if I fill out that report tomorrow?

Sure thing. You're tired.

- Good night, Lieutenant.
- I'll catch you later.

Dex.

It's been a while.

I'm sorry.

I was worried.
I didn't know what to do.

I called in sick.

I mean...

- Are you OK?
- I'm fine. I was just...

I'm sorry.
There was another... You know.

Well, the kids slept over next door.

OK.

Would you like to come in?

OK.

OK.

I don't want to lose you, Dex.

OK, sure.

And...

Well, I want you.

I mean...

OK.

Thanks.

You're welcome.

Do you mind?

- Um, no.
- OK.

- It could be the kids.
- Better get it, then.

Hello?

Cody.

Cody, stop crying, sweetie.

All right. I'll come get you.

Cody just threw up
all over Colleen's couch.

I gotta go get him.

Tell me we're OK.

Better than.

OK.

Go be a good mom.

OK, that was close.

I'll admit, making out with Rita was...

interesting.

But if I don't keep a lid on this,
it could be the end of us.

I suppose I should be upset,

even feel violated,

but I'm not.

No.

In fact I think this is a friendly message,
kind of like, "Hey, wanna play?"

And, yes, I wanna play.

I really, really do.