All language subtitles for Prodigal.Son.S02E10.Exit.Strategy.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

I'm 1.5 centimeters
from the LAD.

Entering aneurysm now.

Extracting intracavitary

thrombus.

Got it.

Well done.

Beautiful work, Doctor.

And now a purse-string suture?

And endocardial patch.

And then, a celebratory drink.

I think...

Scotch.

You know, there
are only one or two

doctors in the world capable

of what you're doing right now.

Stop buttering me up.

I'm lucky to have
a partner like you.

No, I deserve no credit.

This is all you, Vivian.

You are brilliant.

And anyone who
can't see that is a fool.

Really?

Brilliant. I'm brilliant?

And you know it, too.

This is your destiny, Doctor.

You... finding me here.

This was supposed to happen.

This was supposed to happen.

What the hell is
the matter with me?

Morning, Mother.

Malcolm!

What are you doing here?

In my loft?

Where I live?

I thought you were sleeping.

I didn't hear you scream.

I don't always
wake up screaming.

Don't you?

What are you doing here

and what is all this?

I was just

fetching some things
from the Never Ever Room.

Help me.

I thought the whole point

of the Never Ever Room was

to shut away Dad's belongings so
you never had to see them again.

Well, it was.

But once I committed
to do that book,

I'm gonna do it right.

Even if that means
some PTSD memory orgy.

Well, it's funny.

You are dredging up the past

while I'm ignoring The
Surgeon altogether.

Hallelujah.

No wonder you look so rested.

Well, I can't say going
cold turkey has been

a pleasant experience.

He's been calling... nonstop.

Darling, you need a reframe.

Your father is not an addiction.

You are not cutting out
nicotine or, God forbid, benzos.

You are cutting out

a malignant tumor.

- Got it.
- Aw!

This is a good thing.

You are freeing
yourself to move on

with your life, finally give up

all this murder nonsense.

Okay.

A mother can dream.

But maybe you will have time

for some lucky girl out there.

I know you and...

Detective Powell have been

close?

Less so these days.

That whole "covering
up a murder" thing

has been a bit of a roadblock.

Mother?

You have that look on your face.

What is it?

It's a bank key.

But your father never
handled any of our accounts.

Well, why did he have it then?

I intend to find out.

Great. Detective Mom.

I'm gonna be free.

I have a Bible study

for the faithful
who are interested

in Exodus.

Exodus.

Not again.

Mr. David, I am guaranteed time

with a working phone...
now this one is clearly broken.

I've called my son
countless times.

- None of them have gone through.
- Phone's working

just fine, Martin. He's
not picking up on you.

Well, then let's,
send him a text.

That might be more amenable
to his generation anyhow.

I'll-I'll dictate and
you type and...

Come now, Mr. David.
I need, I need

to reach my son
today. It's urgent.

No, it's urgent you
get to the rec room.

Phone time is over and
you have a busy day.

You don't even know the half.

Better get a move on.

And in the meantime,
you'll, you'll text my son?

I guess not.

Darryl getting out
complicates Exodus.

We need to go today.

I told Martin.

He said no.

Has to be tomorrow.

Why?

Malcolm.

He's got to talk to him.

Give him some

message before we escape.

Guy's passionate about family.

Brother Martin
has many passions.

Fine.

We go tomorrow.

With or without him.

You just gonna ignore Willie?

Nice to see you, too, Willie.

Must've been good to have
company in solitary, right?

Yeah.

But I'm out now?

Soon as I clear you to return.

Hey, relax.

You'll be back with
your friends in no time.

They're not my friends.

No?

Why not?

They cut me out.

Put me in the hole.

Why would they do that?

You can trust me, Darryl.

They don't matter.

It's all about the good doctor.

I want the key cards,
Darryl. Friar Pete!

This heathen has brought
a weapon into the room!

Yo, he's a Judas!
Don't trust him!

He's the true head of the snake.

Wow.

The Coronet's looking good.

No, you stay away.

I've had to rebuild her
twice... first because of you,

then because of your mother.
No more Whitlys around my car.

How about Tarmels?

Come on.

Boys and toys,

I swear.

Thought we were
here to solve a murder?

We are. The victim

is Rosalie Howard.

- Edrisa, what do you got?
- Well, I'll tell you what I got.

Some major Japandi
vibes, that's what.

I mean, look at this place.

Clean lines, soft
minimalism, just a

hint of rustic texture.

I wonder where
she got that crystal...

This one isn't for sale.

It's our murder weapon.

Yes, yes. Right, murder.

Cause of death... blunt force
trauma to the back of the skull.

Rosalie likely
died after one blow.

But the killer kept
bashing her head in, over

and over and over and over.

Overkill speaks to an
impulse control disorder.

Inability to integrate emotional
reactions with consequences.

Our killer snapped.

Yeah, but the
struggle didn't start

till they were in here.

I'm guessing Rosalie
knew her killer?

She wasn't yet fully
dressed, but she still let him in.

They didn't just
know each other.

They were intimate.
A crime of passion.

Exactly.

And the killer didn't
have time to clean up.

Why?

Maybe he heard sirens?

Or someone else
came in, interrupted him.

Report mentions an
anonymous witness

called the station
from a land line.

Who still has a land line?

- I have a...
- Old people.

Nobody shoot.

I'll run a trace,
find the witness.

You don't have to.

There he is.

Let's go.

NYPD. Open up!

Sir, what's going on in there?

Go away, please!

He's under duress.

On three, two...

Hello?

Sir?

Land line’s not the only
thing old in this place.

Who lives here?

Gerald Morris, you remember him?

Chess grand
master, Gerald Morris.

Yeah, he was a famous world
champion in the '70s and '80s.

Until he disappeared.

Yeah, looks like
he's good at that.

Maybe he ran away.

These appliances
are 30 years old,

at least.

He may be agoraphobic.

He's afraid to leave the house.

It's more than that. Agoraphobia

is a crippling anxiety disorder.

So Gerald isn't under duress.

And we need a
warrant to be in here.

Exactly.

Okay.

Let's move out, folks.

Nice digs.

You should not
have come in here.

Who are you?

Why are you in my house?

Malcolm Bright, NYPD.

Adjacent.

I'm not a threat.

We only want to find out
who killed Rosalie Howard.

You're gonna make me leave.

But I won't.

I won't do it. I won't!

You won't shoot me, either.

You don't know that.

Actually, I do.

Antique weapons
are kind of my thing.

And this one won't fire.

The latch is broken,

which means the
cylinder isn't locked.

How long have you been in here?

I haven't been
outside since March

of '97.

24 years.

Which means you were here
when Rosalie was murdered.

You saw it and called
the police, didn't you?

- Yeah.
- If I promise you won't have to leave,

will you tell the
detectives what you saw?

I'm

not too good around people.

Okay.

How about just
one detective, then?

Mr. Morris, did
you know Rosalie?

No, we never met.

But you watched her.

What else do I have to do?

My entire life is that window.

What happens out there,
it's better than the crap on TV.

Well, n-not that it works.

So, you watch everyone.

I'm no Peeping Tom, okay?

I have a right to look out

m-my damn window.

Can you turn that off?

The noise, it's so sharp.

And you, coaster, please.

- Sorry.
- Don't worry.

I watch people.

Rosalie fell in love
about six months ago.

Tall fellow, brown hair.

A sharp dresser.

He always came around late.

Too late, if you ask me.

Did Rosalie's boyfriend

- come over last night?
- I heard a commotion

around 11:00.

It was all happening so fast,

I didn't get a clear
look at the man's face,

but he was the same
height, same hair.

He, grabbed her, and the...

Well, you know the rest.

Do you still play chess, Gerald?

I-I don't see how
that's relevant.

He'll bring it around.

You may not compete anymore,

but you still think
like a grand master.

You were famous for learning
your opponents' moves.

Their quirks and patterns.

I bet you do that with
your neighbors, too.

See?

I do.

Memory was always my gift.

I know more about this
neighborhood than anyone.

Relationships, routines,

new jobs, cars.

Decades of it, locked
inside my head.

So if we asked you what kind
of car Rosalie's boyfriend drove...

Um, Porsche. Red.

Would you like the,
plate number, too?

Boyfriend's name
is Clayton Fielder.

License plate on his Porsche
actually says "cum laude."

Called a vanity
plate for a reason.

He graduated Yale
with a 3.49 GPA.

He's rounding up.

So he's guilty of
exaggerating, but is he our guy?

The profile fits. Clayton's
an investment banker.

Working hundred-hour weeks
in a high-pressure environment

could cause anyone to snap.

That is the fifth Martin
call you've declined.

What's up?

I'm doing a serial
killer cleanse.

He doesn't know that.

I think it agrees with you.

Looks like you got some sleep.

I think we've got a problem.

Let's say Clayton
did murder Rosalie.

Could we even
get Gerald to court?

And if he did testify, what
kind of witness would he be?

A brilliant one.

Gerald's a genius.

Yeah, but he's messed up, too.

Come on, the guy is
trapped in his house

watching people
day in and day out.

It's kind of strange.

Agoraphobia often
comes from trauma.

He can't erase
whatever messed him up.

I know, but we're trying
to build a bulletproof case.

That means reliable witnesses,

not some guy cursed
to never leave his house.

He's not cursed.

Agoraphobia does not make
Gerald an unreliable witness.

With his mind, he could be
the best witness we ever had.

Here we go.

My buddy in Midtown says.

Fielder has a
standing poker game

at the Sutton
Social Club tonight.

Deal me in.

I'll be right behind you.

What?

My boy! Finally.

I've been calling and
calling. Are you all right?

Well... Don't answer that. Look,

there is something I-I
desperately need to say to you

- today.
- No. Me first.

I can't have your voice
in my head anymore.

The calls,

the talks.

They are sabotaging
my personal life.

I need to take a break from you.

Kind of sounds like a cleanse.

Well, look, i-it's
never easy to,

hear that your children
are flying the coop,

but, in a way,

it does dovetail quite
nicely with my news.

I'm not listening
to you. I'm done.

No!

That felt good.

No, no, no, no, no, no.
I-I need to get him back.

Mr. David, please, I-I'm
running out of time here.

Yes, you are.

You can try again when
you're back from the yard.

Where are you, my lovelies?

There you are, my darlings.

What is he doing?

Ooh...

You tasted the fruit

of the tree of
knowledge, didn't you?

Only now do you
realize it's poison.

Hang up the phone.

Stay down,

or I really start kicking you.

I'm calling security!

- To tell them what?
- Everything.

The-the traps, the
stolen key card.

What the hell are
you doing down here?

Hang up the phone, or
I'll tell them about Martin.

What do you mean?

You and Dr. Whitly,
sowing the seeds of sin

in your unlawful
carnal knowledge.

What?

"The eyes of the Lord
are in every place."

Your penance will be grave.

Martin goes in the
hole, you get fired.

It's your choice, of course.

You can't honestly think
Mr. Fielder killed his girlfriend.

Rosalie was everything
to me. We were in love.

That doesn't mean
you didn't snap.

What are those
scars from, Clayton?

A car wreck. Why?

He's wondering if you've been

in previous domestic disputes.

I am, too.

An eyewitness saw a man
fitting your description kill Rosalie.

My client was at work all night.

Your eyewitness,

was it that creep
across the street?

The lurker?

He watched her all
the time. She hated it.

Gerald never leaves his house.
He's never even met Rosalie.

That's a lie. She
confronted him a month ago.

- What?
- I wanted to call the cops,

but Rosalie ran over there

and told him to stop watching.

Kid.

Yeah, I'll go.

Why did you lie to me, Gerald?

And here I thought
you just wanted

to play a friendly game.

I do.

But you're keeping secrets.

About your past.

- About Rosalie.
- As are you.

Unless you've told Detective
Powell how you feel?

My life isn't your
soap opera, Gerald.

Besides, there's
nothing to tell.

We're friends.

Partners.

Your poker face is about
as good as your chess game.

Fess up,

and... I'll do the same.

Dani doesn't know how
I feel, and she never will.

For her own safety.

Sounds lonely.

Tactical empathy. Classic.

Not your best move.

You've spent your life
mastering a game, Gerald.

I've spent mine mastering
how people think.

You lied to me about
knowing Rosalie.

Who's to say you haven't been
lying about your agoraphobia?

Maybe it's just a
cover for voyeurism.

You watched Rosalie.

You frightened her.

Check. Did you kill her?

I told you, it's-it's
not like that.

This is the real world, Gerald!

BTK, Bundy.

The most notorious
serial killers all started

as Peeping Toms.

You watched her day and
night. You were obsessed.

Of course I was ob-obsessed,

but not with her.

W-With everyone.

What I see out that window,

it's the only
connection I've got.

So you did know her.

She caught me watching.

She ran over, furious,

shouting into the intercom.

But... then she saw
the bodega bags,

canned corn, soup.

And she started bringing
me fresh groceries.

Rosalie helped

an old grouch,

but I couldn't help her.

Not over there.

Something's wrong.

Someone's inside
Rosalie's apartment, look.

You're right.

I have to go.

Bright, what's up?

You're not gonna believe this.

Clayton Fielder isn't
our killer, it's his twin.

What?

And... he's gone.

60 beats per minute.

How are you so calm?

Pete's onto us.

- It's a disaster.
- No, it's Tuesday.

Pete is a violent psychopath.

Which means he's not the first
person anyone's gonna believe.

And his rodent fetish
is probably, well...

Sexual?

- Yeah, you bet.
- God.

There's no need to worry.

I promise you.

I'll get it all handled.

Even Pete.

What do you mean by that?

Vivian, you've changed my life.

Being a doctor again

I feel like Picasso
rediscovering rose.

You're my muse.

You've done so much for me.

Please

let me do this... for you.

Okay.

I think you'll like the results.

If last time was any indication,
just imagine what I can do

- without these.
- Tempting.

But I'm not going to unlock you.

And here I thought I
was the only woman

to grace The Surgeon's cell.

Dr. Capshaw.

This is my wife...

Ex-wife, Jessica.

Delighted!

I do hope there's
something wrong with him.

No.

No, he's as healthy as a horse.

Not for long.

Leave him in one
piece for me, would you?

Good help is so hard
to find these days.

Jessie, thrilled as I am by this

unexpected visit, I
have a very busy day,

- so I have so many calls...
- I don't care, Martin.

You've got a secret.

Go on, cough it up,

or I will choke that
secret out of you.

Well, that sounds like fun.

Do you remember this?

Your little key?

Well, perhaps if
you hand it over,

- I could be of more assistance.
- You'd like that, wouldn't you?

What does this
key unlock, Martin?

Is it money?

Murder trophies?

Isn't it obvious?

It's the key to my heart.

You've had it all along.

Tell me about...

The key, the key!
Who knows what it's to?

I... that was so,
so many years ago.

I mean, perhaps it,
opens a toy chest, or

maybe a wardrobe to Narnia.

I can tell when you're lying.

Not historically.

You would not
need to be so vague

if you did not have
something to hide.

Why fish for trouble, Jess?

Life is good! Look at us.

You're

thriving.

My Filofax

hasn't been this full in years.

And so is my
day... so I'm afraid

- our little tête-à-tête will have to wait.
- You're cheery.

What are you up to?

Me?

Absolutely nothing.

I'm just a rat in a cage.

What could I
possibly be plotting?

I don't know.

Something with
that beautiful doctor

you've been working with?

Don't let jealousy cloud
your judgment, Jess.

Now you're just
trying to wind me up.

Tell me what you're up to.

Well, what would
be the fun in that?

You can crack
this case yourself.

Follow the clues, Nancy Drew.

There's an emergency
in the infirmary, Martin.

They need you.

Well, what could that be about?

Jessica,

I trust you'll be able
to see yourself out.

Duty calls.

A twin? Really?

It's the only explanation
for what I saw.

Says the man who suffers
from chronic sleeplessness,

delusions...

How do you know about my delu...

Forget it.

Thought you said something else.

That's funny.

Looks like Bright
really did see a double.

DEA confirms it.

Clayton Fielder has got a
twin brother named Felix,

a known associate of
the Morelia drug cartel.

- Well, look at that.
- Turns out Clayton fled

the cartel ten years ago,

changed his name, removed
his tattoos, the whole nine.

His brother Felix has
been after him ever since.

So Felix came
looking for Clayton,

found Rosalie instead.

Of course she let him right in.

When she didn't give
up Clayton, he killed her.

Brave girl.

Looks like Clayton is next.

JT, you and Dani find Clayton.

Bright, I need you
back at Gerald's.

- We've got to convince him to...
- Testify against Felix.

Which means he'll
have to leave his house.

If anyone can get
through to this guy, it's you.

Need more help.

Turn him over.

I've never seen
anything like this before.

What the hell happened?

Dysentery, I suspect.

You've seen the
conditions in the cafeteria.

Look around.
This is no accident.

My God. The boiler room.

What if Friar Pete was
stealing the rat poison?

He could have
put it in the food.

Anticoagulants?

The symptoms fit.

These people

are internally bleeding.

I need more hands.

Nobody's dying today.

They've got us. We
can work together.

Turn around.

You start triage over there.

I'll do this group.

Let's get to work.

Hello?

Is anybody here?

Check.

You helped solve
a murder, Gerald.

You can handle

a little deposition.

Impossible. You
know I can't leave.

Yes, you can.

You don't have to
be trapped in here.

This is your next move.

No, it's not.

Checkmate.

This guy needs fluids.

- That was the last bag.
- Here.

Go to the stockroom
and get some more.

I'm calling them back.

God!

Vivian Capshaw.

Claremont Psychiatric.
The-the storeroom's this way.

Martin, what are you doing?

Martin. Where are you going?

Martin! Stop!

Martin, stop!

What are you doing?!

Sorry.

I am.

It's not easy for me

- to leave all this behind.
- No. Please.

I believed you. No, don't go.

Family comes first.

No! Martin, stop!

Please, stop! Stop!

Stop!

Gil?

- JT called. He found Clayton.
- And?

His twin found him first,
beat him half to death.

- Where's Felix now?
- He wants to bring Clayton back home,

after he takes
care of the witness.

Gerald?

But that means that
Felix is heading towards...

Bright.

Is that your phone?

That... What did I... I'm...

- I-I'm sorry, Gerald.
- I mean...

That's a text, which
means it's not my father.

It's Dani.

- We have to leave.
- What? Why?

Felix is here.

What do we do?

Hide.

Damn it.

I'm just a rat in a cage.

What could I
possibly be plotting?

My God.

Help. Help!

Someone, please help me!

The Surgeon is escaping!

Jess? It's good to hear
from you, but I can't

Gil, I am trapped at Claremont.

- What?
- The guards are all gone,

the doors are all locked,
and there are rats!

Something terrible is happening.

You were right to call me.
Everything's gonna be fine.

You're not listening to me.

Martin is escaping.

Okay. Here's what I
want you to do, Jess.

Find something to defend
yourself with, then hide.

I'm on my way.

Thank you. Thank you.

I know what you saw, old man.

But don't worry.

I'm not gonna do that to you.

Not if you come out now.

This isn't happening.

We can't stay here. We
have to evade capture.

What's the move, Gerald?

The basement.

We'd be open targets. Try again.

There's a closet.
Diagonal across the hall.

It's not big enough
for both of us.

Gerald, we're in the endgame.

There's only one
play for a pawn.

Get to the end of the board.

You mean, outside?

I can't. I can't.

It's now or never.

Blackmailing Dr. Capshaw, Friar?

How Christlike.

What would you
know about it, Judas?

Shut up.

Let's move. This way.

Pharaoh's army approaches.

Get the restraints.

Secure the whole area!

Go, go! Move!

You?

Wait, where have
I seen you before?

You're The Surgeon's wife!

Did-did Martin send you?

You're-you're,
you're a friend of his?

No, nah. We hate The Surgeon.

We?

Yeah, me and Willie.

Well, this is a
misunderstanding,

'cause I hate Martin, too.

Despise the man, so
we are on the same side.

Fool me once,

shame on you.

Fool me twice

kill your wife.

What's that, Willie?

You hear that?

Willie's got a wicked
imagination for hurting people.

Don't...

Don't you take another step.

Really?

What's the pretty
little lady gonna...

Just one last piece of
business to attend to.

Part of the plan, of course.

Rosalie was a nice girl.

I didn't want to hurt her.

All she had to do was tell
me where my brother was.

Except she said
they were in love.

Where are you, old man?!

Wait, wait, wait.

Go.

Stop.

- Almost there.
- I can't.

There are no other moves for me.

This isn't chess.

It's life.

And it's waiting
for you outside.

Don't you think that's what
Rosalie would've wanted for you?

Yes.

This time, make
the right choice.

What's our strategy?

Run.

Gerald!

NYPD. Stay down.

I see why you like her.

Jessica?

You men, spread out.

That way.

It's okay. It's okay.

- You're okay.
- No, I'm really not.

We're locking down
Claremont. You're safe now.

Gil, if Martin is free,

no one is safe.

Martin!

At last.

So, how does it feel?

Smells like garbage.

But I suppose some
things never change.

I'm happy for you, Gerald.

That was big, what you just did.

Well, we lived to tell the tale.

Forge new relationships, all
that hooey you were selling.

I meant every word.

Yeah? Prove it.

Time for my move.

My boy, um, I had hoped
we could speak again,

but I don't have much time.

There are so many things to say.

But there's just one
thing I need you to know.

I am not the man I used to be.

I'm not a killer anymore.

Whatever you hear, whoever
tries to rattle your faith in me,

what I am about to
do is not about murder.

No. This is about family.

Everything I'm doing,
everything I've done,

it's all for you.

For us.

I hope you find me, son.

You're the only one who can.

Because we're the same.

Bright, have you heard?

What happened at Claremont?

Your father...

The Surgeon, he escaped.

Greg, move your head.