All language subtitles for Episode 07 - Slack Tide

Previously on Dexter...

Deb's alive.
They're taking her to the hospital.

Trinity's a monster. If he was the one
who hurt your sister, you need to kill him.

I'm gonna follow Lundy's theory
and check his hotel room for clues.

You can't let these
be logged into evidence.

I've been going over everything collected
from Lundy's hotel and some of it's missing.

If you say that you saw me kill Frank Lundy,
then you're the liar.

- Nikki Wald didn't kill Lundy.
- How do you know?

Somebody stole
Lundy's Trinity research.

And there's only one person
who would have a reason to do that.

Me?

Trinity.

If you could just help me get an interview
with Debra Morgan.

- You gotta be kidding me.
- It'd be a hero piece about the shooting.

No, add to that the fact that her brother
has a bug up his ass about me.

- I don't care if you're a dirty cop.
- Don't fucking call me dirty.

Last thing I need is a cop mad at me.

How are we supposed to decide
what's more important?

Our jobs or each other?

- It's over.
- Right.

Sorry.

I'm halfway through
the C.I. files you gave me.

Maybe then I'll finally get some answers.

I think I know who Dad was fucking.

What? Wait. Who?

I'll tell you when I know more.

I know almost everything about you, Arthur.

Except where you hide.

The dates and locations
from Lundy's books.

Arthur's been using Four Walls builds
around the country as a cover to kill.

And these are his trophies

hanging right up here on the wall.

He's hiding in plain sight
right in the center of his family.

How does he do it?

Only way it was gonna work
is if I jumped in with both feet.

Jump in with both feet.

There's a moment sailors call slack tide:

when the tide is neither
coming in nor going out,

but perfectly still.

It's a moment frozen in time,

when all is calm and peaceful.

The only downside to it
is that it passes so quickly.

Morgan.

Yeah, text me the address.

Gotta go home. Dead body.

We should get back anyway,
I got a lot to do.

I start work again tomorrow.

And you move
into your new apartment.

Yeah, taking over Dexter's old bachelor pad.

You can take me there
on the way home.

As much as we might like some things
to remain suspended in time,

they never do.

OK, not what I was expecting.

Well, here's the real surprise.

Mr. Nix found the alligator
on his driveway.

Come up here all the time.

Try to eat my dogs.

This one I was gonna eat.

He shot the animal in the head.

He started to gut him
and he found the arm.

Adult female.

No blood flow from
the ruptured blood vessels.

The bite was postmortem.

What's this?

Ligature marks.

- Her wrists were tied.
- I'm guessing the 'gator didn't do that.

Well, we got a homicide, guys.

Alligator Alley -
a perfect spot to dump a body,

- knowing that it won't last.
- I'll test for fingerprints.

Let's get a search team here.
Maybe we could find some more body parts.

A head would be nice.

Dexter, finally. You have to help me
finish my report on African animals.

No, I need him to put up
the shelves in my room.

Actually, guys,
it's been a long day and I'm kinda...

Go easy on him.
He's only one person.

That you know of.

First, you'll help Cody, then Astor,

and then you're gonna help me put
Harrison's baby bouncer together.

- That's a lot of helping.
- Well, that's what daddies are for.

"Debra, call me.
I'd love to speak to you."

She called the other day too.

She wants to do a hero piece on Deb
for the paper.

The last thing I need is a reporter
snooping around my house,

my family, me.

I'm sick of explaining it to you.
It's like you don't even listen to me.

Maybe I would listen more...

I've been hearing them a lot lately.

They don't sound very happy, do they?

Better to find out now
before they get married.

You and I are doing better, right?

Much better.

I'm happy we're in therapy.

You've really opened up to me a lot lately,
Dexter. Don't you think?

Absolutely.

Dexter, I'm waiting.

Dear Abby,

I'm a serial killer and need advice
on how to keep my kids

from taking over my life.

No.

There's only one person
who can help me.

Arthur?

Hey.

- Hey, Kyle!
- Morning.

- Doing a little shopping?
- Yeah, just a few things. You?

Yeah, we needed some supplies
for the next build.

- Let me give you a hand.
- Oh, thank you.

I'll help you load it up.

Oh, good.

So Jonah's not around
to help you this morning?

No, he's got ROTC in the morning,

football practice in the afternoon.

Yeah, no time to help out his dad.

That's too bad.

No, no. It's a good thing.

- Is it?
- Kyle, you're a father.

You know we're responsible
to push our children out into the world,

to make them prepared, self-sufficient.

Right.

Yeah, of course.

Push them out. Right.

How do you do that?

You have to encourage
their outside interests.

Jonah's got all his activities

and Rebecca's got her ballet,

and she has college-level science classes.

That sounds very busy.

Well, so busy that I hardly get to see them.

And they hardly get to see you,

allowing you to do
whatever you want.

Simple advice,
but there's got to be more.

So, hey, if you ever need any extra help,
just let me know.

- Oh, thank you.
- Really, I mean it.

- Absolutely.
- It's just that...

Just what?

Well...

Honestly, I'm new here and without
my family, I don't know anybody.

So...

What are you doing tomorrow morning?

Nothing.

Meet me at my house.

6:30.

OK.

Hey, Deb, great to see you.

Welcome back, Detective.

- Welcome back.
- Thanks.

Hey.

You're getting a hero's welcome, I see.

Hey, welcome back.

Not like they haven't seen me,
I've been around.

Yeah, but now you're officially back.

So glad you're OK.

- Who was that?
- I have no fucking clue.

Take a bullet and suddenly
you're everybody's best friend.

Uh. On the house.

Welcome back.

Fat Jesus on a bike,
get me outta here.

Cover me, bro.

Hi. Dexter Morgan.

Of course. We met before.

Uh, excuse me, I have to talk...

Yeah, that's why I'm stopping you.

As a favor to me, I'd really like you
to not write about my sister.

I think she'll make a great story.

I should interview you as well.
You can give me some background...

No, Debra's recovering
from a serious injury.

She needs to be left alone.

Stay away.

Why don't you, uh,
get us a couple coffees?

What's with the attitude?
She's just trying to do her job.

Everybody's trying to get a piece of Debra
right now. She's been through a lot.

Your sister's a big girl.

And she can take care of herself.

I don't see why this is any of your business.

Look, I know you and I
have had our little differences.

You might want to keep in mind
how all that started.

So what are you saying?

I'm saying the guy
who saw the other guy

steal the money from the crime scene
wants Christine kept away.

Sorry.

Sorry I'm late.

Actually, that's bullshit.
I'm not late.

I was hiding at the end of the hall so I could
tell you all at once and get it over with.

Um... Thank you, I'm great.

No, I don't need your help.

And, no, I'm not gonna
show you the scar.

So, please,
can we just fucking move on?

And, uh, why is there
a picture of a fucking arm up there?

Well, let's all welcome back
Detective fuckin' Morgan.

I was just about to ask Sergeant Batista

to update us on his case.

Based on the fingerprints,

we've ID'd the victim

as Estrella Carazo,
19 years old.

She is a citizen of Nicaragua,
here on an expired visa.

Uh, the M.E. estimates that the arm

was ingested less than 72 hours ago,

and the time of death
less than 24 hours prior to that.

She worked as a cocktail waitress
at the Bayside Club,

but she also did some modeling.

She had a job scheduled four days ago
with a photographer

named Jonathan Farrow.

He's a big fashion photographer.

- That's disgusting.
- What the fuck?

That is sick.

Even I'm disturbed by this.

Ms. Carazo didn't report for work the night
after she was scheduled to see Farrow.

The kicker is, seven years ago
Farrow was arrested

in New York on suspicion of rape.

- The charges were ultimately dropped.
- So he's clean?

Well, I spoke with the lead detective
of that case,

he thinks the victim was paid off.

OK, so he's dirty.

The guy's surrounded
by a firewall of lawyers.

He's well-protected and playing hardball.

Maybe I'll get a turn at bat.

He's agreed to come in
for questioning this morning,

but I doubt if we'll get
anything out of him.

- I'd like to be there.
- OK.

Well, thank you, Ang... Sergeant Batista.

You're welcome, Lieutenant.

What's with Batista and LaGuerta?

What are you talking about?

They're afraid to look at each other.

Why would that be?

- Because they're doing it?
- Makes sense.

You put two people
in a room together long enough,

- eventually they're gonna fuck.
- Oh, wow.

That's so romantic.

You should have that tattooed
across your fat head.

What?

I'll need to find the right activity for Astor.

What did I like to do when I was 12?

OK, then, moving on.

Hi, this is Mr. Farrow's assistant,
hold please.

Uh, no, I'm sorry. Mr. Farrow is not available
for any bookings right now.

- You have nothing better to do?
- I wouldn't say Farrow's nothing.

Compared to Trinity he is.

Trinity's not going anywhere.

With his kill cycle over he's not a threat
to anyone for the time being.

Not sure I could say the same
about this guy.

I haven't the faintest idea
who Estrella Carazo is.

Oh, yes.

She had a nice arse.

I shot her in my studio last Thursday
for a Jamaican rum campaign.

Nothing sells rum like a nice booty.

- What time was that?
- Uh...

Nine a.m. till noon.

Yeah, then I drove down to the Keys

for another commercial shoot
that lasted well into the night.

That can be verified?

By my assistant
and about a dozen other people.

Tell me, Dexter,

what's the real reason
you're stalling on killing Trinity?

I still have things to learn from him.

I spent my entire life trying to teach you
not to be like him.

You also taught me I couldn't
be with people, couldn't get married.

You taught me a lot of things
I learned were wrong.

You're taking a risk here.

Isn't that what life is?

A risk?

Any ideas who might have
wanted to harm Miss Carazo?

Look, the girl was gorgeous
but she was F.O.J.J.

F.O.J.J.?

Fresh off the jumbo jet. Yeah.

Very rural, you might say.

Sensitive guy.

Not like you.
I could make you a star.

I just need to get you in my studio,

whip your clothes off
and rough you up a little bit.

I think you just jumped to the top of my list.

It's gonna be so nice
to finally have my own place again.

Nice apartment.

Yeah, right?

I've wanted it for years.

Whose was it?

Dexter's.

No shit?
How come you're just now getting it?

I mean, he got married like,
what, eight months ago?

Well, he kind of held on to it
for a while.

For what, like a secret fuckpad?

No, I think he just
has a problem with change.

He's very slow to evolve.

- Anyway, I should be going.
- Yeah, thanks for the help.

I'm not suppose to lift anything for a while.

You kept your apartment
after you got married?

What kind of guy does that?

What are you hiding, Dexter?

Stay out of my life.

I know this is, like, your place now
but are you always gonna, like...

have people here?

Yes, Dex, sometimes
I'm gonna have people over.

This is the rest of your stuff from the house.

Thanks.

I'm picking up right where
Lundy left off with Trinity.

I owe him that much, right?

So look...

There are over 60 deaths
linked to Trinity.

Twelve different cities,
cases leading back to 1979.

I have every little iota
of evidence Frank collected

except what was stolen by Trinity.

And I'm gonna run it all by LaGuerta
tomorrow with the kicker...

that Trinity shot me and Lundy too.

Wow, that's a lot.

Fuck, yeah, it's a lot.

Deb's right, but it sounds
like some mad conspiracy theory,

which is exactly what LaGuerta will think
when she hears it.

I'm gonna fuckin' blow her away.

- Are these...
- Dad's old C.I. files.

Didn't know you had 'em.

So you haven't told me how it's going,
your search.

I finally got some real info on
who Dad might have been seeing.

My mother, you mean?

- I'm having coffee with her tomorrow.
- OK, now I'm confused.

- Coffee?
- Her name's Valerie Hodges.

I left a message for her,
like, a month ago,

and she finally called me back.

Not my mother.
Debra's headed in the wrong direction.

But when she realizes that
and gets headed the right way,

Laura Moser leads to Brian Moser,

leads to the Ice Truck Killer,
leads to Harry Morgan.

So many little stepping stones
that lay a path directly to the real me.

Let me know how it goes.

I will.

Hi, Dexter.

- Hi, Dexter.
- Hey.

- Hey, sweetie.
- Hey, buddy.

Tough day?

Elliot's girlfriend
moved out this afternoon.

- Oh, that's too bad.
- What's too bad?

What's too bad is...

that I found all this fun stuff
for kids to do today

and I can't do any of it
'cause I'm too big.

Like what?

Well, for Cody,

I thought he might like
to join the Young Sailors Club.

- Yeah!
- Wow, that's great.

Elliot's son Danny's in that.
I think they have an outing this weekend.

I wanna sail.

Then sail you shall.

What about me?

How does soccer grab you?

- You get to kick things.
- No, thanks.

Well, OK, how about ballet?

Yuck.

OK.

How about the Little Scientists Association?

Why do you hate me so much?

We'll keep working on Astor.

But this is a good idea.
How did you decide to do all this?

Well, I feel it's my responsibility
as their father

to help push the kids
out into the world.

Make them prepared and self-sufficient.

I'm impressed.
Dinner's almost ready.

Good, I've got an early morning meeting.

OK, two serial killers go for a ride...

Why do I get the feeling this joke ends
with only one of them coming back?

I've barely skimmed the surface
of Arthur Mitchell.

Still so much to learn
about handling the kids and the wife.

Choose your weapon.

Or maybe not.

I have plenty of experience
with the chainsaw.

But it's heavy, difficult to wield,
has a short reach.

Um, axe.

This is a little too
"into the woods" for me.

So what is it
we're doing out here?

We're gonna cut down a tree.

Oh.

God damn it!

Want me to give it a try?

Stand back.

So... about the kids...

uh, one of them doesn't wanna do
any of the things I suggested.

- So don't make them suggestions.
- What do you mean?

They're just children, Kyle.

If you let them do whatever they want,

they'd suck their thumbs
and diddle themselves all day.

So why did we come out here
instead of just go to the hardware store?

I don't want the lumber
in the hardware store.

- This is better?
- Yeah, it's better.

OK, Arthur,
you're a bit off today.

Uh...

Kyle, I didn't mean to hit it.

- Of course not. It was an accident.
- Huh, we should go.

It's gonna die. It's suffering.

It needs to be put out of its misery, Arthur.

You need to kill it.

No, I... I can't.

He spent his life
killing innocent people,

but he can't kill Bambi?

This is your new role model, Dex?

It's in pain, Arthur.

Please, I can't.

Get that axe from him.
Kill him now.

Would you like me to kill it?

Would you do that for me?

Now, Dexter. Kill Arthur now.

Man, early mornings with Trinity
can be murder.

Lieutenant.

The judge won't issue a search warrant
on Farrow's studio.

- No probable cause.
- Well, that's bad news.

Very, 'cause I'm still sure he's our guy.

I think this means he's my guy.

And this case may be bigger
than what we originally thought.

I've got the names
of at least three models

from Central and South America who have

- all gone missing over the past year.
- All here illegally.

Now, we know that
at least one of them worked for Farrow.

I figure he picks his victims
knowing that once they've disappeared,

their families have no way of
getting an investigation started.

And I can't get a search warrant
on this come mierda.

Fortunately, unlike Batista,
I don't need a search warrant.

Keep working it.
Find another way in.

Can I ask you something?
Off the record.

Go for it.

Is it true that you and Batista
are in some kind of relationship?

Excuse me, Detective?

- It's just there's a rumor going around...
- Then please stop spreading it.

As a fellow woman
in a largely male workforce,

I'd think you'd have a little more sensitivity
to this kind of situation.

Sergeant Batista and I
are co-workers and friends.

Shit.

Farrow has a reputation for partying
late into the night.

And tonight should be no different.

Farrow's trusty assistant closing up shop.

Right on schedule.

Estrella Carazo.

Are those tears for real?

I know you like to create
images of violence,

but this isn't fake blood I'm seeing.

Someone was hit right here.

Managed to make it this far
before she was...

hit again.

And then here.

A fingernail.

Not exactly Cinderella's glass slipper.

But it is a fit.

- Valerie?
- That would be me.

- Debra Morgan.
- I figured. Sit down.

I left you messages weeks ago.
I figured you weren't gonna call.

Well, I was on a cruise.

Rich old men love to spend money on me.

Um... So you used to work for my dad,
Harry Morgan?

I did.

I still have my sources,
if that's what you're wondering.

Pick up where we left off.

Of course, my fee's gonna be
a little higher now.

No, actually, I just wanted
to ask you about my dad.

Did you and my father...

Did you ever
have a romantic relationship?

Oh, um,

I'm not sure
romantic is the right word.

I was one of his girlfriends,
if that's what you're asking.

There were others?

I think he picked the C.I.s
based on how good we were in the sack.

I'm sorry, that's just...

that's just not the picture
I have of my dad.

Oh...

Hey, I knew he was a hound
when I met him, we all did.

I was one of his favorites, though.

I used to drive him crazy
with this one thing...

That's... That's... That's enough.

Thank you. Thanks.

Does this mean you're not gonna hire me?

I should have listened to everybody.

It was a huge mistake
to look into Dad's past.

- What happened?
- It's too much.

- I don't need to know all this stuff.
- What stuff?

Dad was fucking Valerie Hodges.

- Really?
- But apparently she was just one of many.

It's every father's nightmare...

disappointing his children.

That doesn't sound like Harry.

Thank you, Dex.

I don't even know
who Harry is anymore.

He's still everything
you remember him to be.

Is he?

We all have secrets, Deb.

Some of them
shouldn't be found out.

I don't have any secrets like that.

No, me neither.

I should just leave it alone.

My mother.

Yeah, I think that's probably
for the best.

- I'll turn these in and be done with it.
- No, you don't have to. I'll do it.

Thanks.

You need to destroy that file, Dexter.

Close that door forever.

I can't let her be cut up again.

Hey.

- Hey, sweetie.
- Hey.

Not another gift.

No, it's not a gift.
It's a push, remember?

- What's that for?
- It's for you. It's your new guitar.

Why?

- 'Cause you're gonna take guitar lessons.
- Says who?

Me.

We'll see.

I learned a long time ago you can't force
them to do things they don't wanna do.

Yeah, I guess.

So are you ready
for your big weekend?

What big weekend?

The overnight camping trip
with the young sailors.

I'm not a young sailor; Cody is.
I'm a 30-something sailor.

But you have to go with him.
That's part of the deal.

They need adults with boats.

You're signed up
to take four of the boys.

I didn't realize that.

I didn't know I'd have to get so involved.
This isn't a good weekend for me.

Dexter, what do you have to do
that's so important?

Stuff.

- Stuff?
- Stuff.

You can't cancel
because of "stuff".

Cody will be so disappointed.

Well, what time do we have to leave
in the morning?

You have to meet
at the docks at eight a.m.

If I can't do Farrow tomorrow,
I'll do him tonight.

Everything's ready.

Where are you going?

I gotta prep the boat.

If we're camping out, we'll need a tent,
sleeping bags, food, water.

I gotta get two children's life vests.

Abduct Jonathan Farrow
take him back to his studio,

kill him, cut him to pieces,
dump him in the ocean.

Honestly, Rita,
this is gonna take me a while.

- Do you need some help?
- No, I got it.

This really means a lot to Cody.

Me too.

And suddenly...

tonight's the night.

Jonathan Farrow, party animal.

OK, Jonathan,
party like there's no tomorrow.

I'm on Mr. Farrow's list.

I don't have all night.
Neither does Jonathan Farrow.

Excuse me,
could you tell Mr. Farrow

I just saw a homeless guy throwing up
in the back seat of his car?

Quinn?

What is he doing here?
It couldn't be coincidence.

This whole thing
just became too risky.

Can you believe he's here?

Uh, who is he?

That's Quinn.

I've never heard of him.

You'd be making a big mistake.

Hello.

Hello yourself.

You must be Quinn.

I am.

This lab geek
just fucking ditched me?

OK, tonight's not the night.

Guess I'm prepping the boat
to go camping after all.

The Biscayne Bay, boys!

Home to the Seminole Indians,
the Spanish conquistadors,

cutthroat pirates...

And now Dexter Morgan
and four skinny boys.

Harry used to take me camping.

If I can't kill Jonathan Farrow tonight,

at least I can make the most
of my time with Cody.

See, you just pull it tight,
like that,

and that's your bowline.

That's my personal favorite.

You might prefer a taut-line hitch.
I'll show you on the other side.

Or maybe you wanna see a trucker's hitch.

- That's a fun one.
- Dexter?

What?

Can I throw dirt clods?

Oh, OK.

You forgot the rope.

Right.

You seem a little distracted.

Yeah, well, Arthur's technique
of keeping the kids busy

and therefore keeping me free
isn't working out like it was supposed to.

So maybe it's time to kill him.

After Farrow.

Hey.

I just got the official go-ahead
from LaGuerta

to open a Trinity Killer investigation.

Really?

She went for the whole...

serial killer thing?

OK, let's call it
a limited Trinity investigation.

What's that mean?

Right before I went in, I realized
if I pitched the entire Trinity theory

and I added that he also
shot me and Lundy,

I'd look like a fucking lunatic, so I boiled it
down to the bare essentials.

Which are?

The bludgeonings.
They still go back 30 years.

So I can investigate Trinity without LaGuerta
knowing I'm investigating Trinity.

Smart.

What's the next step?

I don't know.

I don't know, but what I do know
is that Trinity killed Frank.

And I'm gonna catch him.

I'm sure you will.

So, Sarge.
What's this about you and LaGuerta?

A little bump and grind?

Do not talk about Lieutenant LaGuerta
that way. Comprende?

Wow.

Sorry.

You must really dig her.

- Angel.
- Quinn just asked me

if you and I were
bumping and grinding.

Debra Morgan
asked me the same thing.

Well, not in those words.

- Where are they getting this from?
- I don't know.

It's you.

The way you keep looking at me.

Everywhere I go
you're staring at my culo.

OK, that is so not true.

It is too.

Now I know...

that I have a pretty nice ass...

...but you gotta stop.

I miss you, Angel.

I miss you too.

- But we made our choice.
- Yeah, yeah.

When all of a sudden,

they heard a scratching noise
on the roof of the car.

"What was that?"
And they thought, "Let's get outta here."

And they drove home
as fast as they could.

And when they got home,

he went around to open the car door
for his girlfriend,

and there hanging from the handle,

a bloody hook!

That doesn't even make sense.

Your turn, Dexter.

Uh, actually, I don't know any scary stories.

- Oh, come on. Give it a shot.
- Come on.

All right.

There's a man.

You can call him
the Man of Three.

You can call him Trinity.

You can call him anything you want
but the fact is he's not a man at all,

he's a monster.

He was born in a bathtub
filled with blood.

For countless years he's roamed
the countryside killing the innocent,

leaving behind
bits of his dead sister.

Sometimes he'll sneak up on a man

and raise his hammer overhead...

and then he'll swing it down...

Smash his own thumb
and then go crying all the way home,

like a little baby.

That's what happens!

- That was funny.
- Thanks.

And now I think it's time
to hit the sleeping bags.

You guys are beat.
You've had a huge day.

Hey, buddy.

You need anything?

I'm good.

Do you need anything?

No, I'm good too.

It's only nine o'clock.

The kids won't wake up till it's light out.

Plenty of time for me.

What the hell is going on?
What is this?

This...

is the decisive moment.

What's the name of the photographer
who always talked about that?

- Cartier-Bresson.
- Right. Right.

Once you miss it
it's gone forever,

a perfect moment...

frozen in time.

Something like that, right?

Yes, but...

Ow! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Who are you?

I'm the person who's going to keep you
from killing any more women.

What? I've never killed anyone.

You killed Estrella Carazo.

Who knows how many others?

I didn't fucking kill them!
I photographed them!

- It's too fucking bad they're dead but I...
- "Too fucking bad they're dead."

Life is... is hard,

and it's brutal and ugly,

and way too fucking short!

That's why I shoot what I do,
beautiful women!

Who are bruised and cut and bleeding.

Oh, fuck.

It's for the contrast!

You add a little bit of the real world.
It makes them all the more beautiful.

Until you kill them.

If they could thank me,
they fucking would.

Because of my pictures,
those women will live on forever!

Nothing lasts forever.

Man has always been drawn to the sea.

But it's an unnatural setting for us,

a place of great danger.

Tides, currents,

waves, wind...

each presenting their own hazards,

none of which can be ignored.

The slightest lapse of judgment

can be a mistake
you might never recover from.

But a good sailor doesn't fight
against these elements.

A good sailor works with them,
using them to his advantage.

While others less fortunate
might be forever cast adrift,

often in several pieces,

he always comes home safely.

What the hell?

- Isn't that...
- Farrow's assistant.

I just arrested him
for the murder of Estrella Carazo.

- But, no, I thought...
- Yeah.

At first it looked like Farrow,
but this is airtight.

We got camera footage from the tollbooth
of him heading over to Alligator Alley.

We got DNA evidence.
We got everything.

I killed an innocent man.