Original subtitles

(dramatic music)

(dramatic music)

(man whispering in foreign language)

(man whispering in foreign language)

(dramatic music)

(ship rumbling)

(device beeping)

(ship rumbling)

(dramatic music)

- If we can get them to commit to 10 million euros,

and that's a cakewalk for them,

then we'll be well past our goals for the quarter.

Yeah, my personal goal will be destroyed.

All about the bonus.

(phone ringing)

Look, I'll have my admin send you an email in the morning,

and I'll get the forms over to you, all right?

Great, all right, well good night.

Good morning.

Okay, bye.

Terry McDermott.

(dramatic music)

- Did he contact anybody?

- No, no, at least not there.

I haven't seen him talk to anybody.

- Okay, well thank you very much.

If we have more questions, we'll come and find you.

- Of course.

Thank you, sir. - Thank you.

- So what have we got?

- Pretty solid.

Guy's on the phone for the last two hours

with someone in Switzerland

right up until we called his cell.

We got two plane tickets to Zurich, Switzerland.

Hotel reservations, hotel reservations in Florence, Italy.

Two tickets back to the states from Rome.

Office phone was in use pretty much all night.

A cabby picked him up 10 minutes later outside his office.

- You should check him out anyway.

- Guy just lost his wife, man.

Solid alibi.

- Who's always suspect one?

- Yeah, yeah.

- Mr. McDermott?

I'm Detective Nolan.

You spoke to my partner, Detective Stam.

First off, I'm very sorry about your wife.

I gotta ask, any problems in your marriage?

- We were going to Switzerland to close the deal

and then spend two weeks in Italy.

- Mr. McDermott.

- I don't know anything.

I don't, I don't, I don't.

- Well, black Batman?

- He's got nothing to do with it

unless he's the greatest actor since Al Pacino.

- No, no way.

Not his latest work, it sucks.

I think Sea of Love was less...

- How's the scene?

- Crime scene left a little while ago.

Didn't find much, no blood, no prints, no fibers.

Oh, and prelim cause of death

is acute hyperpyrexia of the brain.

- Huh?

- That's what I said.

Kind of like a microwave fried her brain from the inside.

Some scorching on the flesh.

Not enough to cause death or even a scar really.

- He can go home if he wants.

- Kinda spooky, no?

Think her ghost is still there?

- Shave your chin.

Look like a nut sack.

Okay, Mr. McDermott, you can go home now.

The detectives are done now.

In the next day or two, the coroner will release your wife

to whomever you make arrangements with.

Again, I'm sorry.

(dramatic music)

- [Radio DJ] And nonstop jams from Wayne to Beyonce.

XM 22 plays hits from the '90s to now.

Sirius XM Love is XM 23 and all your favorite love songs

from Luther Vandross to Rod Stewart.

XM 24.

(dramatic music)

(Terry crying)

(detectives knocking)

- Sorry, Mr. McDermott, we were wondering if we could

take another quick look at the scene.

- Didn't you guys get any sleep?

- It's 3:00 p.m., sir.

- Oh.

- Relax, sir, we'll be right here.

We'll take a look around and show ourselves out.

- Sure.

(dramatic music)

- Where's your piece?

- Forgot it.

- The fuck?

- I had a beer at lunch.

- One beer? - Yeah.

- It sure ain't gonna be one, man.

You're not fooling anyone.

Maybe that's why you haven't got a promotion in, what, three years?

Do we need to print McDermott even to eliminate him?

- No, he took an internship with the IRS in college,

so he's on file already.

First thing I checked.

- Good, good.

What's this?

Dumb asses at CSI didn't log this.

- Oh, they're all right.

A certain redheaded guy I hate.

- [Chris] That the new e-print reader?

- Yeah, man, it's boss.

(reader beeping)

Looks like it's just a partial.

But if he's in the system, we'll get him.

- Good.

- Yeah, this is right over where her head was.

- You mean when she died?

- Yeah.

You know, she was all right lookin'.

I saw the autopsy photos.

She had all kinds of piercings and tattoos and shit.

Pretty wild.

What's she doing with a douchebag like this anyway?

But hey, money begets pussy, right? (laughing)

- Mr. McDermott.

Bob, take the prints to the station.

I'll cap it there.

- Sir.

- Mm, delicious.

This is real gourmet stuff, Mr. McDermott.

My wife buys Maxwell House.

- Tina's vices, good coffee and expensive wine.

- Mr. McDermott, this hole, was it always there?

- No, no, I don't think so.

Of course then again I'm never home.

- Listen, I'm a busy guy, wife, kids, job.

But if you ever need a stiff drink, well,

one with company, call me.

We're working hard on this.

We got prints.

- Prints?

- Well, partial.

Pretty good.

Good night.

(somber piano music)

(ship rumbling)

(monitor beeping)

(man whispering in foreign language)

(siren blaring)

- [Bob] You wanted to see me, Lieutenant.

- We're short staffed, and we all certainly know

that your career could use a boost.

Take a look.

- [Bob] Jesus.

- Press is calling him the Brain Surgeon.

First serial in decades.

- Wait, Nolan and I are already on the McDermott case.

- Husband did it.

- We don't think so.

We really took a hard look at this guy.

- [Lieutenant] The husband always does it.

- Why don't you give this to Lucas?

She's never on the heavy cases.

- Let's just say that the captain has Detective Lucas

on special assignment.

How is the McDermott case coming?

- Pretty good, got a partial print that crime scene missed.

- [Lieutenant] Any matches?

- I haven't gotten down to records yet.

- [Lieutenant] Why not?

- Because I'm in here talking to you.

- Get the hell out of here and do your job.

Stam, where's your piece?

- Hey, I just sent you an email with that attachment.

It's a partial print.

Need you to put a rush on it.

When the results come back,

contact me or Detective Nolan, all right?

Cool, thanks, Stella.

Shit.

(Terry knocking)

Mr. McDermott, please have a seat.

Some good news, I found a partial print in your bathroom.

- Yeah, the other guy told me.

So you can catch him.

- You ever notice it's always him?

- It was a woman?

- No, no. Well, we don't know, but it probably was a guy.

But I guess women with need,

they have a bargaining chip, right?

- What?

- They're a woman, that's the chip.

Flash that cleavage, show the top of that thong.

Straight up sleep around.

- You're serious?

- Hey, if I could sleep my way to the top, I would.

I'm not throwing girls under the bus or anything.

I'm just saying, no need to commit crime really.

- My wife wasn't like that.

I had nothing before we met.

She was a speech therapist, worked with kids.

She could've been like my friends' wives

and stayed at home and bought clothes and shoes,

but she wanted to help.

We talked about stuff.

We talked about life.

My friends' wives, they open their mouths,

but they say nothing.

So a print?

- Yeah, like I said, just a partial.

But it should give the computer enough to match someone up.

But if the perp's never been printed, if he...

Here we go again.

If the person responsible had never been fingerprinted,

then any print we get is pretty much useless

until we get someone based on other clues.

Then we print him, match it up that way.

- So what happened to my wife?

You guys figure that out yet?

- Yeah, we can figure out some basic movements based on

facts like you never saw prowlers skulking around

your windows, the window was open, TV was on.

We can figure out where the perp broke in,

where your wife was, and where they ended up.

- Tell me.

I need to know.

It'll kill me at first, but I need to know.

- This girl I dated last year, she cheated on me.

And I needed to know like every little sick detail.

I hated it, but it kind of cleansed me, you know?

No making shit up in my head.

I'll copy the file.

- Thank you.

(ship rumbling)

(monitor beeping)

- Boss, Stella.

- The partial came back.

- Hey-oh.

- Picked up on a B and E last year,

but your dumbass uniforms never read him his rights.

Released within hours.

- Leif Journeyman, fuckin' name sounds made up.

- Couldn't find any name change or alias.

Social checks out.

He says he's a computer technician, freelance.

- Looks the part.

I'll go over to the courthouse, get a warrant on this guy.

- No blood, no DNA, no witness,

no other trace of this guy besides a smudge on the wall.

Maybe he hooked up the cable and took a shit

before he left for Christ sakes.

- Are you kidding me?

There were no other prints in that place

except Mr. and Mrs. McDermott and her mother's

from a visit last Thanksgiving.

No record of any damn cable hookup or anything else.

- Look, Detective, I'm sorry, not gonna happen.

I'm not gonna risk my rep on this paper-thin bullshit.

(phone ringing)

- Hello.

- Hey, it's me.

Yeah, it's a no-go, boss.

- Bob, how could you fuck this up?

- It's not my fault, she's a fuckin' bitch.

Chris, Chris?

(ship rumbling)

(monitor beeping)

(phone ringing)

- Hello.

Oh, yeah. (somber piano music)

Yeah, okay.

No, no, I'll come down and do it tonight.

Detective.

- [Chris] Mind if my friend Jim and I come in?

- I know you investigate a lot of crimes.

I doubt you have a drinking session with the families

of all the victims.

- That partial print we found, it's a no-go.

- So you can't figure out who it is.

- No, we know exactly who it is.

What he does, where he lives.

- What?

So go get him.

- Not enough.

All we have is a smudge, nothing else.

And the DA won't make anything out of it

unless we go and get new evidence.

Won't go to trial with half a print.

- [Terry] Well, what do we do?

Just tell me.

- I'd like to tell you that we'll lean on him,

watch him slip up, look deeper into his background.

But honestly with our budget, not gonna happen.

Besides, if he's done this before,

it was probably just as clean.

That smudge was probably his biggest fuck-up.

Well, okay, I should get going.

I don't want this out of legal.

- Do something!

I pay your salary.

Do you know how much I'm taxed?

Do something!

- Mr. McDermott, take your fuckin' hands off me.

- I, I'm...

I'm sorry. - Hey, hey, hey.

It's okay.

If I were in your shoes...

(dramatic music)

(door rattling)

(heartbeat thudding)

(dramatic music)

(Tina crying)

(door rattling)

(Tina screaming)

(device beeping)

(dramatic music)

(device beeping)

(device buzzing)

(Terry knocking)

- So you go to this place, the guy will set you up.

- How will I know him?

- Don't worry, he'll know you.

This is the perp's address.

- Thanks.

- Justice has to be done, man.

(wind howling)

Morning, Chris, Stella.

- Bob, look at this shit.

Stella, tell him what you told me.

- Well, Detective Nolan asked me to look into similar cases.

These crimes or murders resembling the McDermotts

go back decades.

- All over the place.

The fuckin' '50s.

There's fuckin' hundreds.

- [Stella] Burn marks on the chest and head,

no other injuries, crime scene otherwise clean.

Many have no prints, some maybe a partial.

- And those partials match our guy.

- Jesus, New Mexico, Colorado, California, Oregon,

Detroit, New York City, Boston, Pittsburgh.

Our guy isn't this old.

- Maybe he's a copycat.

In any case, we have enough for a warrant, right?

- Won't need it, bro.

- What?

Stella, could you excuse us, please?

- I think our guy might take care of this himself.

- What?

- Give the guy closure, man. It's not like we haven't looked the other way before.

- Yes, when we had to, but now...

- Wheels are already in motion, man.

(monitor beeping)

(dramatic music)

(Chris knocking)

♪ Thank you for the drink ♪

♪ No thank you, I can find my own way home ♪

♪ I've been doing it for five months now ♪

♪ Can't do that ♪

♪ Maybe you can give her a call ♪

♪ A lonely, lonely phone call ♪

♪ What did I think you would say ♪

- Make it a pink swirl. ♪ I always gave you ♪

♪ Too much credit ♪

♪ We got each other into the same damn place ♪

♪ But you never get it ♪

♪ What I did I think I would do ♪

♪ By sitting here across across from you ♪

♪ When all of the retread problems with you ♪

♪ Teach me when I get through ♪

- Well, got to drop a deuce.

Watch my shit for me, Terry.

♪ I was living with you ♪

♪ To meet my enemy ♪

♪ The one who makes me weak in the knees ♪

♪ Please don't take this the wrong away ♪

♪ I already missed my last train home ♪

♪ And now a few more stories ♪

- Hello, Mr. McDermott.

- Detective Nolan.

Is it new public policy to keep in such personal contact

with the families of victims?

- [Chris] Can I come in?

- Look, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I'm...

- [Chris] Terry, let me in, please.

- Fine.

Drink?

- Yes, please.

Off duty.

- Well, you might as well sit down.

- You know, when I was in high school,

my girlfriend was killed by a drunk driver.

Hit and run, they never got the guy.

- Is that why you become a cop?

- Maybe.

Anyway, I know it's nothing like having your wife murdered.

I know this, I don't know how you feel.

But I wanted to kill this guy.

(Terry laughing)

- No, it's something your partner said.

You ever notice how the unknown suspect is always a he?

I guess the feminists don't want equal opportunity

when it comes to being assumed a criminal.

Sorry.

- I'm just saying, I spent so much energy

wanting to kill the fucker.

If I did, I'd have nothing.

I'd be in jail.

I wouldn't have a great family, great life, friends, house.

Life is good.

And as much as it hurt when she died and that there was

no justice, that what I would've felt, that justice,

wouldn't have been worth what I never would've had you know?

- Put down my drink.

Go on.

You were a fucking kid, everything ahead, nothing to lose.

And that's what you lost, nothing.

No disrespect to your girlfriend,

but you're right, that's what she was.

Some girl you used to kiss at the movies.

My wife, my wife.

(somber piano music)

We were gonna have kids in Europe.

We had her cycle plotted out to the very day and hour

when we should make love.

And now my kids will never be.

You piece of shit.

I had everything, and it was taken from me.

You lost nothing.

Get the fuck out.

No!

(lighter clicking)

- I'm a fucking cop!

(dramatic music)

(Terry retching)

(dramatic music)

(Terry choking)

(Terry coughing)

- Needs more power.

Dark man had a weapon, strong.

More power.

- You killed my wife.

- Deposit not far enough.

Traveled the void.

Stopped too close.

I remember your image, the last thing she thought.

I remember her path.

Close, so close.

The building, the building, thought it was the building.

- What?

- You people.

Such a place, your planet.

Perfection.

Size, gaseous composition, distance from primary starlight.

You destroy it.

You should all kill yourselves because you will.

- Who are you?

- For so long, so long, so close.

Knew it was this continent.

Star log computer, auto shift to land, these coordinates.

But too much damage.

Moon, didn't account for it.

- What the fuck?

- I will go travel the void.

Not endless beauty like your wife, but travel to my home.

Download into database encryption.

See the radiation, smell the solar winds.

Until download.

My soul.

Generals will receive message, command, attack.

(device beeping)

One more test.

No pain, Terry McDermott.

(gunshot banging)

(dramatic music)

Civilian, unarmed civilians.

I... (gunshots banging)

(Leif gasping)

(somber music)