All language subtitles for the.undoing.s01e03.720p.web.h264-cakes1

He didn't just leave his phone
behind,

he arranged to be unreachable,
Dad.

This doesn't make any sense.

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

Dr. Fraser,
where is your husband?

He is at a medical conference.

Dr. Jonathan Fraser's employment
was terminated three months ago.

A full disciplinary hearing
alleged inappropriate contact

with Elena Alves.

-(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
-GRACE FRASER: Excuse me,
I live here.

Why are you taking
his hairbrush?

/We need the hairbrush for DNA,

for paternity.

You need to get protection
for yourself.

SYLVIA STEINEITZ: (WHISPERS)
Grace, you need to get out
of here. You and Henry.

This story will explode.

(GRACE WHIMPERS)

(GRUNTS)

♪ (MUSIC INTENSIFIES,
CONCLUDES) ♪

("Dream a Little Dream of Me"
playing)

♪

♪ STARS SHINING BRIGHT
ABOVE YOU ♪

♪ NIGHT BREEZES
SEEM TO WHISPER
I LOVE YOU ♪

♪ BIRDS SINGING IN
THE SYCAMORE TREE ♪

♪ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
OF ME ♪

♪ SAY NIGHTY-NIGHT
AND KISS ME ♪

♪ JUST HOLD ME TIGHT AND
TELL ME YOU'LL MISS ME ♪

♪ WHILE I'M ALONE
AND BLUE AS CAN BE ♪

♪ DREAM A LITTLE
DREAM OF ME ♪

♪ SWEET DREAMS
TILL SUNBEAMS FIND YOU ♪

♪ SWEET DREAMS THAT LEAVE
ALL WORRIES BEHIND YOU ♪

♪ BUT IN YOUR DREAMS
WHATEVER THEY BE ♪

♪ DREAM A LITTLE ♪

♪ DREAM OF ME ♪

(water lapping)

(slow, shaky breathing)

Grace:
MY NAME IS GRACE FRASER.

My husband has just broken in.

He's a fugitive.
He's wanted for murder.

-I didn't do it. I didn't do it.
-Grace: His name
is Jonathan Fraser.

I'm at 361 Beachway,

Beachway Drive, and
I'm fucking terrified.

I need you to...
get here quickly.

(gasps)
Please.

(chatter over police radio)

♪

(helicopter whirring)

-(helicopter whirring)
-(indistinct conversations)

(groans)

(birds cawing)

(playing sprightly tune)

Joe Mendoza:
SO HE DIDN'T CALL FIRST.
HE JUST SHOWED UP.

(exhales) That's right.

And you called 911
approximately five minutes
after he arrived.

-Yes.
-Correct?

More or less.

Is there a reason
you're not believing me?

'Cause that's what it
feels like right now.

You don't believe me.

You said he, uh,
he, he grabbed you
by the throat?

He put his left hand
over my mouth.

He put his right hand behind...
back of my neck.

-Paul O'Rourke: Okay.
-And--

-It's okay. I'll take it
from here. Go.
-All right. Yeah.

Yep. Yep.

(exhales)

(Grace groans)

Were you afraid?

I was terrified.

Because you thought
that he might harm you?

I don't-- I mean,
I wouldn't rule it out.

Kill you?

God, why would you be
asking me these questions?

Why are you asking me this?

Mendoza:
We're investigating a crime.

He assaulted you.

I'm just trying to assess
the severity of the assault.

I'm sorry.

The DNA results came back.

And?

The daughter is his.

(baby cooing)

(pained sigh)

(whispers):
Okay.

(tense music playing)

♪

♪

(horn honks)

-Last name?
-Fraser.

-Go on. Last name?
-Lopez.

-Last name?
-Hernandez.

-Last name?
-(door clangs)

Newscaster (over TV):
THINGS ARE VERY FLUID,

BUT WHAT WE CAN CONFIRM
IS THAT DR. FRASER

IS SCHEDULED TO BE ARRAIGNED
AT THE NEW YORK COUNTY
SUPREME COURT.

WE ARE ALSO NOW LEARNING
THAT THE VICTIM
WAS AN ARTIST,

AND THAT HER
SCULPTING HAMMER
WAS DISCOVERED

TO BE MISSING
FROM HER STUDIO.

POLICE ARE NOW CONSIDERING
THIS AS THE POSSIBLE
MURDER WEAPON.

-(Grace sighs)
-YOU'LL REMEMBER
THAT ELENA ALVES

WAS FOUND
BLUDGEONED TO DEATH.

Henry, can you
turn that off, please?

(newscast continues)

-Henry, turn it off.
-What?

Turn it off!

Please.

(footsteps departing)

(Grace scoffs)

Does he have a lawyer?

I'm hearing he has
a public defender.

Probably hasn't got much money.
He hasn't been working.

-What about you, money-wise?
-I'm fine.

(sighs) He did drain
our bank account some,
but...

(distant footsteps thudding)

(panting)

(grunts)

(clattering)

-(camera shutters clicking)
-(commotion, chattering)

Grace (over phone):
HEY. SO, WHAT'S HAPPENING?

He'll be charged,
they'll enter a plea,

and it'll be over.
It'll all go pretty quickly.

Do you know who
his attorney is?

No, I do not.
My grapevine is a bit limited

on the criminal side.
But Grace,

I don't know.
I don't know what
you've been reading.

I don't know what you've seen,
but I am telling you,

you need to hire
your own attorney.

The prospect of you knowing,

possibly aiding and abetting--

-Grace: WHAT?
-Harboring a fugitive!

I didn't do that.
I'm not--

Sylvia (over phone):
WELL, EVEN SO,
THIS IS WHAT THEY DO.

THE POLICE WILL WANT TO
SECURE YOUR COOPERATION.

LEVERAGE IS LEVERAGE.
I'M TELLING YOU.

I'm here. I will call you
on the other side, okay?

Okay.

(indistinct conversations)

(sighs) Jesus.

(indistinct)

(phone jingling)

-Hey.
-Sylvia (over phone):
HI. IT'S A MADHOUSE.

I can't see over there.
It's too-- Oh.

Oh. He's got "The Badger."

-Grace (over phone): WHO?
-For his attorney.

Robert Adelman.
He's a public defender.

He's good, but he's not great.
He just chews and gnaws.

They call him "The Badger."

Catherine Stamper's prosecuting.
We actually-- We--

We interned together
for a hot minute.

-Yes.
-Sylvia: She's a heavy hitter.

She's here in person
for the arraignment.

It means they're not
messing around.

Oh, Jesus.

Husband is death-glaring me.

You'd think I killed her.

-Grace: WHO'S HE WITH?
-Sylvia: I don't know.

With his mother,
or something.

What? Okay.

No, I have to
get off the phone.

Okay.

Bailiff:
ALL RISE.

The criminal court
of the city of New York
is now in session.

The Honorable Layla Scott
presiding.

Please be seated.

I have allowed
television cameras
into this room

for today only.

I am making a public
interest exception,

pursuant to my authority
under local civil rule 1.8.

However, however,
this courtroom will not
become a circus.

I don't want to see anybody
talking on phones,

Snapchatting, Instagramming,

or any of the other
social media nonsense.

We're going to call the case,
bring in the defendant,

arraign him in accordance
with the duly-promulgated

rules of procedure
of this courtroom.

I hope I have made myself
abundantly clear.

-Go ahead.
-(camera shutters clicking,
spectators chattering)

Bailiff: (clears throat)
Docket number 62333.

The People of the State
of New York versus
Jonathan Fraser.

Count one: murder
in the first degree.

Count two:
aggravated rape.

Robert Adelman:
Robert Adelman for
the defendant, your honor.

At this time, we'll waive
reading of the charges,

and enter a plea of
not guilty for all charges.

-We also ask--
-Catherine Stamper
for the people, your honor.

We oppose bail.

This was a heinous
and violent crime--

Adelman:
My client has long-standing
roots in the community--

Catherine Stamper:
The defendant has already
demonstrated himself

-to be a flight risk.
He fled the jurisdiction.
-Cures cancer, no record.

Not so much as a parking ticket.

Well, murder and rape.
He hit the ground running.

Objection. Ask for sanctions.

(camera shutters clicking)

Ten million bond,
two million cash.

(spectators exclaiming)

Judge Scott:
Take the defendant
back into custody.

-Thank you, Your Honor.
-Thank you, Your Honor.

Next case.

-Bailiff: Docket number 62432.
-(commotion, chattering)

People of the State
of New York versus
Matthew Tinker.

(spectators clamoring)

(sighs heavily)

(door closes)

Henry:
He looks scared.

Dad.

-(metal rattling)
-(door slams)

(lock clicks)

(commotion, yelling)

Guard:
Straight ahead. Let's go!

Inmate:
Yeah, hey.
I'm gonna fuck you up!

(door slams)

(inmates yelling)

How are we doing?

-(door slams)
-It's been nearly a week, so...

Adelman:
Yeah, I'm sorry about that.

-(pen clicking)
-First things first.

Don't be talking
to nobody in here.

The franchise is populated
with reprobates looking
to improve their plight.

Any information they can
glean from you,

might reap dividends.
And not to you.

Well, I would only tell them
that I'm innocent.

Innocent is good.
Saying nothing is better.

So, can you get me out of here?

With money for bail, yes.

With, with my
persuasive skills...

More of a challenge.

Now, you own your own home?

The one in the fancy building
I seen on the news?

I own it jointly with my wife.

Ah.

I am innocent.

-(bangs fist)
-Do you care?

Not really.

Truth be told,

I prefer my clients guilty.

Takes the pressure off.

I should say,
having read the police report,

I would be very surprised
if you were innocent.

In fact, it'd be difficult
for an innocent man
to present more guilty.

Unless, of course,
he was stupid, which...

I'm figuring you're not
since you cure cancer
and all.

Back to me, please.

You know, I should say up front
that in my experience,

doctors tend to be assholes.

The reason they
tend to be assholes

is because they get to be.
They're doctors.

My point is,

you don't get to be one anymore.

I would be very grateful
if you could arrange

for me to see my wife.

-(horn honks)
-(dog barks)

♪

Dr. Fraser.

Thanks for coming.
I'm, uh, Robert.
Robert Adelman.

-Nice to meet you.
-Please.

This all must be a terrible
hardship for you and all, so...

My, uh, my sympathies on that.

Server:
Hi. Can I get you anything?

Um, no. I'm fine. Thank you.

Your husband seems

pretty convinced that you would

vouch for his innocence.

I won't.

I can't.

Uh, okay, then.

You strike me as a wife
suffering from PTB.

Excuse me?

-Post-Traumatic Betrayal.
-Oh.

-I kind of, I kind of
coined it myself.
-Yes.

-So, it's not a real disorder.
-No.

It means a fucked-over person,

in the immediate aftermath
of being fucked over,

often believes the fucker-overer

to be capable of anything.

Including murder.

So, my question to you,

um, before you got wind of
the fact that he was unfaithful,

your pre-fucked-over
impression of him.

Did he strike you as a person
capable of committing

this kind of mayhem?

If he did, do you think
I'd be married to him?

My, uh, my specialty
is reading people.

It's the best tool
in my kit. I just...

Getting a feel for a person.

I'm thinking your husband
is a bit of a dick.

But not a killer.

And what do you think?

I don't know what I think.

(dish clinks)

(train chugging)

Franklin:
I WOULDN'T GO ANYWHERE
NEAR THE SON OF A BITCH.

Don't tell me
you're considering it.

I feel like I owe it to Henry.

To allow for his father
to be innocent. Don't I?

No, you do not.

I just need to get
a semblance of the truth.

What makes you think
you will get the truth
from him?

(vehicle approaching)

(distant clunk)

(whispers):
Hey.

(sobs)

You think he did it,
don't you?

(whispers):
No, baby.

No, no.

No.

(sobbing)

No. Henry, Henry.

(whispers):
It'll be all right, Henry.

-(commotion, chattering)
-Oh.

Reporter:
She's coming out.

-Did you know, did you know...
-(all clamoring)

Reporter 2:
Is he guilty?

Reporter 3:
How do you feel
about the betrayal?

Reporter 4:
Did he do it?

(loud clamoring)

(inhales slowly, exhales)

(sobbing softly)

(exhales sharply)

(exhales)

♪

Guard:
MOVE IT! LET'S GO!

-(gate buzzes)
-Move it!

Let's go!

Move it!

♪

(indistinct chatter)

Thanks for coming.

How's Henry?

Um...

How do you think he might be?

(sighs)

Look, I don't know what
the purpose of this
conversation is,

but you wanted me to come
and I'm here.

Well, it's, it's not
to convince you that
I'm a good husband.

Or a good father.

You didn't just do this to me.
You did this to your son.

You have a daughter.

You have a fucking daughter.

Fuck.

Look, I...

I spoke about Elena,

uh, being obsessed with me.
Yeah?

She was.

She was not a well person.

Grace, you have to help me.

The whole world
thinks I did this.

My only chance is for people
who know me to come forward.

To help you?
You actually think
I'm gonna help you?

You know my heart.
You know my heart.

I, I understand that you can
no longer trust me to be

the man you thought I was.
I get that.

But you certainly know
that I would never take
a human life.

You know that.

I don't know anything.

My heart wouldn't allow it.

Nor would my ego.
You know--

I didn't...

I didn't do it.

Whatever my faults
and my transgressions...

My love for you...

For Henry...

Can you bring him?
Please, bring him.

(whispers):
Please, Grace.

He's gotta hear from me.

He needs that.

(water running)

Jonathan:
TRY IT.

PERFECT.
AND BACK AGAIN.

VERY GOOD.

Um, which other animals
have funny walks?

The batfish, uh,
body like a tennis racket.

THEY USE THEIR FLAP-LIKE
FINS FOR WALKING SLOWLY
ON THE SEA BED.

So, it's this.
(makes flapping noise)

Yeah. Perfect.

(exhales slowly)

(ambulance siren beeping)

Thank you.

Thank you.
Thank you.

I appreciate it.

I appreciate you
taking the time.

I'm really not
comfortable with this.

-No, I understand--
-I, I signed a,

a confidentiality agreement,

and, uh, I'm risking my job
even talking to you.

You're...

You're a good friend to him.
You are. You were.

If you're expecting me to
actually help him at this point,

-that after everything
that just--
-No.

I would never expect that.

If, if he were guilty.

-Which he is.
-And if he's not?

(scoffs) Come on, Grace.

He's not who we thought he was.

I think we can at least
acknowledge that.

What do you know
about the victim?
Elena Alves?

(indistinct chatter)

I know she had a son.

A seven-year-old boy
with a Wilms' tumor.

Jonathan was his doctor.

They weren't discreet.

They weren't even trying to be.

He got warnings.
Didn't seem to matter.

He wanted her,
and he was willing
to risk everything.

Which he clearly did.

Well, he says that
she wasn't well.

-He says that she was obsessed
with him and that she was--
-(scoffs)

-I wouldn't know.
-If she was the obsessive-
compulsive type...

-Yeah, then, then what?
-...and I, I admit,

-I'm, I'm clutching
at straws here.
-Grace,

-Jonathan cultivated it.
-I-- Plea--

People becoming
obsessed with him? He--

He fed off that.

His patients loved him.

The parents, of course,
the parents worshiped him.

He was saving their children.

-He thrived on being the center
of intense emotion...
-That's--

in a very narcissistic
and unhealthy way.

It's like he never got
the God complex memo.

-In fact, actually,
sometimes I think
-I--

it wasn't even about the,
the patient.

It was about the emotion
coming at him.

He cared about his patients.
He did.

-I saw it.
-Yeah. Maybe.

-I did. He cried for them.
He would--
-Yeah. Maybe.

-Yes!
-They say psychopaths
can't work in a hospital.

Psychopaths?
He's not a psychopath.

(children playing)

(indistinct chatter)

Hey.

Did you see Jonathan?

-Yeah.
-How was it?

-I'll tell you later.
-Yeah, of course. Sorry.

It's called hero worship.

Excuse me?

People falling in love
with their saviors.

It's mostly a woman
who is affected and...

the objects of the delusion
are doctors.

Firefighters. Policemen.

(fire crackling)

-It's also called
rescue romance syndrome.
-(chuckles)

-Sounds like a load of crap.
-Well, it isn't.

What has it got to do
with anything?

She fell in love with the doctor
who saved her kid's life.

What has that got to do
with him killing her?

According to Jonathan,
she took it to extremes.

And?

Crazy people do crazy things.

Are you serious?

Are you now believing
that Jonathan is innocent?

I'm just open to the idea.

(scoffs)

And are you open to the idea

of you and Jonathan
getting back together?

No. Of course not.
Don't be ridiculous.
It's your move.

Mm.

He came to me for money.

(softy):
Excuse me?

He said you were worried
about paying for Reardon
this year.

That you thought you might
have to take Henry out.

-That's not true.
-Yeah, I know.

I told him it would
not be in Reardon's best

economic interest to lose Henry.

And he said, yeah,
but you were worried
about finances overall

and that you would never
come to speak to me about it.

And I knew that to be true,

so that when he asked me
not to say anything to you...

(Grace sighs)

(exhales)

How much did you give him?

$500,000.

But I, I, I thought I was
helping you and Henry.

(stammers)
I mean, I know how private
you are, Grace.

I knew that you would not
come to me.

I mean, I was actually grateful
to that son of a bitch.

I even thanked him for
giving me the opportunity to...

(stammers) I'm--

I am so sorry.

I... (sobbing)

I should have told you.

I mean, if I had,

maybe that woman
would be alive today.

(sobs)

(breathes quietly)
God.

Oh, dear.
(sniffles)

-(indistinct chatter)
-(horns honking)

(train horn blares)

(car door closes)

♪

-(baby fussing)
-Shh, shh, shh.

Shh.

♪

(game beeping)

This isn't gonna be easy.

You keep saying that.

-Hey. Come on--
-Mom.

-Hey, put that down.
-Mom. Mom!

Mom.

I'll be fine.

Okay?

(gate buzzing)

-Guard 1: Name?
-Henry: Henry Fraser.

-Guard 1: Name?
-Grace: Grace Fraser.

Over there.

Name?

Out around the corner.

Name?

Name?

Name?

Guard 2:
Hey. Hey, hey.

No touching. Let's go.

Woman:
Bye, baby.

Grace:
Henry, you alright?

Yeah.

(sobbing)

Well, another fine mess
I've gotten you into.

Yeah.

-How are you? How's school?
-Henry: Fine.

Violin? Rosenbaum?

What's the latest on him?

Did you kill her?

No.

You were fucking her.

(exhales) Okay.

-Well, it's straight
to the net with that one.
-Henry: Were you?

Jonathan:
Uh...

Yeah. We were
romantically involved.
Yeah.

So you don't love Mom anymore.

Yeah, of course I do.

I love her and you
more than anything.

And I always will.

I fucked up.

I made a terrible,
terrible mistake.

I, um, allowed myself to be,
uh, persuaded

that a person
desperately needed me

because her child
was very sick,

and I could help him recover.

And I let that be
a reason to lose my
strength of character.

I was very sorry for her,
and I think that, uh,

my wanting to help
overwhelmed me, so...

And then, after everything,

instead of being grateful
for everything I'd done

for her and for her son,

she became unsound.

Threatening.

It got to the point where I felt
she wanted to destroy us,

as a family, so I went to
confront her about that.

And that's it.

That's all I did.

Why did you run,

if you're innocent?

Well, I ran because I--

I was scared.
I, I knew how it looked.

And I was selfish.

In that moment,
I was completely selfish.

I thought only about myself
and what might happen to me.

And then, uh...

I thought about you. Mom.

So I came back,

uh, which may have
been selfish again.

But, you see,
I wanted my family back.

(quietly):
We're never gonna be
a family again.

Well, I, I desperately
hope we will be.

Come here. Come here.

Guard 2:
Hey. No touching.

Let's go.

-(guard pats back)
-Jonathan (whispers):
It's okay.

All right.

Grace (whispers):
Come on, Henry.

(sobbing)

-Mom. Please.
-It's alright.

(whispers):
Hey. Hey.

-(door slams)
-(sobbing)

(indistinct chatter)

(distant siren blaring)

(soft classical piano
music playing)

(footsteps approaching)

Hi.

You mentioned Haley Fitzgerald.

(music stops)

(Grace sighs)

-Franklin: For you?
-For him.

(both exhale sharply)

There is a certain stigma
attached to a public defender.

(chuckles)
You have always had
an unlimited capacity

to see the humanity
in a person.

To have an affair...

that's human.

To strike at someone
in an act of passion,
or anger,

that's human.

But to bludgeon someone to death

and keep on bludgeoning them
long after they are dead,

that is a monster, Grace.

That is a monster.

He's not that monster.

-Franklin: Mm.
-He's...

He can't be.

He-- (exhales)

He's not that monster.

Dad, he's not.

(sighs)

I'll arrange for you to meet
with Haley Fitzgerald.

(playing soft piano music)

Take the right hand.

Come on.

It makes me miss Mom.

Please.

(playing notes)

(whispers):
Stop.

(men chattering, yelling)

Lots of shit on you
on the Google.

You got the guards,
everybody talkin'.

Hey, what's it like
to be so famous?

Come on.

You probably got
book deals and shit, right?

Hey, if I can get
my hands on a pen,

you, you think you could
sign some shit for me?

Take your fucking
hand off my--

Take my fucking
hand off you?

You gonna be an asshole
about things now?

Take your fucking
hands off me.

-(thwacks)
-(prisoners yelling)

(punches)

(prisoners yelling)

(alarm blaring)

(yelling)

(crunching)

-(alarm blaring)
-(commotion, yelling)

(horns honking)

♪

Haley Fitzgerald.

Grace Fraser.

-Thank you for seeing me.
-It's my pleasure.

Please take a seat.

I've read the police reports.

I'm curious as to why
you'd want to help this man.

Well, for my son,

should his father be innocent.

And should he be guilty,

thinking of your son,

which side do you want
to err on?

-If you would just
take a look at the case--
-I have.

The evidence isn't good.

Add to that,
he's got a truth problem.

Are you saying that, um,
the case can't be won?

I'm not saying that at all.

I never underestimate
the state's ability
to fuck things up.

I can win almost any case,
Grace.

What I cannot do is wave a wand
and make everything better.

If he killed her,
I can't make him innocent.

-I can't make him faithful.
-I know that.

-Do you?
-Yes.

Many clients think
I can undo everything.

Wipe the slate clean.

You sound like me
talking to my patients.
(chuckles softly)

Haley:
I understand that you're
a very good therapist.

You've probably fixed
more than a few marriages.

That's not my skill set.

People hire me to create muck.

Muck up the state's case,

so they can't meet their burden.

That's what I can give you,
and your husband.

Muck.

Mendoza: Mr. Reinhart?

Detective Joe Mendoza.
NYPD.

I'm sure you are, dear boy.

I got a feeling your daughter
is hiding something.

Whether she's withholding,

tampering with,

or falsifying evidence.

For all we know,

she's an accomplice.

You're her father.

She could use some good advice.

Voice of reason.

Or better, I think,

that I be the voice of reason
for you, detective.

My daughter has neither
committed a crime,

nor obstructed justice.

I recognize that
in the particular,

justice is open to
subjective interpretation,

and I would not deem to presume

what your version of it is.

Mine is very specific.

And if you'd like to know
what it is,

get a warrant.

(distant siren blaring)

♪

(crosswalk dinging)

Shit. Fuck. Watch out.

(sighs)

-Ms. Fraser.
-Oh!

My name's Fernando Alves.

And I'm sorry to intrude.

Can we talk?

Grace:
No.

No, that's--
That's not a good idea.

Why not?

(baby coos)

Grace:
Because it's not a good time,

-Mr. Alves.
-Your husband killed my wife.

When would be a good time?

I've been informed
you've been asking
about her.

I was told she wasn't well.

If you have any questions,

who better to answer them
than her husband?

Unless maybe yours.

Are you trying to
intimidate me, Mr. Alves?

My wife has been murdered.

-Yes.
-And the idea

of her character
being attacked--

I'm very sorry
for your loss, sir.

I cannot fathom your grief.

But I also find it
very hard to believe

that my husband
could have taken her life.

Because he was
such a fine person.

(baby fusses)

-Huh?
-(baby cries)

My son had cancer.

I put him into
your husband's care.

He fucked my wife.

What kind of doctor does that?

What kind of mother ends up
fucking her child's oncologist?

I'm under a lot of
pressure right now.

And I've reached the point where
I'm not taking shit from anyone.

Mr. Alves,
were there other men?

(whispers):
Were there other men?

-Were there?
-No.

No, there were no other men.

Was your wife being treated
for psychological disorders?

None of your fucking business.

My son's father has been
charged with murder.

So whatever secrets
your wife had,

whatever secrets you have...

Whatever secrets you continue
to harbor for her,

it's my business.

I will make it my business.

Be very careful, Dr. Fraser.

(door opens)

(dramatic music playing)

♪

(distant siren blaring)

(moaning)

(Jonathan groans)

(sniffles)

♪

Mendoza:
DID HE THREATEN YOU?

Grace: Not directly,
but he has been
following me.

Following you?

St-stalking me.

All right, so you're here
to file a complaint.

I'm here to ascertain exactly
what was Fernando Alves' alibi.

-It's not something
we can disclose.
-And why is that?

Dr. Fraser--

Have you categorically
ruled this man out
as a suspect?

Have you?
I mean, he suffers
from anger issues.

-I could detect that
in the first meet.
-Yeah, he's in shock.

It would be understandable
if he was angry,

don't you think?

His wife cheated on him,

then she was murdered.

Those are the kind of things
that piss husbands off.

He had motive.

He had opportunity.

He had access.

He's hiding something.

Mm-hmm.

What tells you that?

Twenty-plus years
of psychological training.

(chuckles)

You read his mind.

O'Rourke:
Mrs. Fraser, we have
no reason to believe

that Fernando Alves
is a suspect.

Are there security cameras
from inside the building?

Do you have video footage
of people coming and going
that night?

Again, we are not at liberty
to disclose that.

But you're at liberty
to interrogate me?

Disclosing and weaponizing
every last informational nugget

to, to emotionally terrorize me?

You're at liberty
to approach my father?

I mean...
(exhales)

There must be
video surveillance.

Are you telling me
that my husband
was the only person

to enter that apartment
that night?

Because if that's the case,
I want to know,

because it will better enable me
to walk away from him

and never, ever look back.

Just... Just fucking tell me.

All right. There were
no security cameras
in the building.

-It's an old building.
-Grace: But on the street.

You have cameras
everywhere in this city.

Yeah, there was a...

There was an active camera

-a block away from the scene.
-Grace: And?

And?

What is it? What?

(scoffs)

Mendoza:
There was only
one image captured

that we deemed to be relevant.

Grace:
What is it?

What?

What is this?

(taps keyboard)

Grace:
What is this?

This is you.

Near the scene of the crime,

and around the time
Elena Alves was murdered.

I was walking.
I mean, I--

-Mm.
-Grace: This isn't--

I was walking.
I take walks. I didn't--

I, I didn't even know
where she lived. What--

Are, are you suggesting
that I'm a suspect? I--

Fernando Alves was not
near the scene that night.

The only people of relevance
that we can place

in the area,
around the time,

are you, and your husband.

(distorted music playing)

♪

Mendoza:
Exactly how well

did you know Elena Alves?

♪

♪

Should you do anything
to further harm my daughter,

I will track you down,
and I will kill you myself.

♪ (TENSE MUSIC PLAYS) ♪

HALEY FITZGERALD:
You cast a spell.

Daddy's home.

I look forward
to clearing my name in court

and proving that I'm innocent.

FRANKLIN REINHARDT:
Are you all planning
to live like a family again?

Put up a fight.

How weak do you think I am?

(HIGH-PITCHED SOUND WAVE)

♪ (MUSIC FADES) ♪