All language subtitles for Forever - 1x08 - The Ecstasy of Agony.720p HDTV.en

You have a tough day at the office?

Remember that weaselly new creative director

I told you about last week?

Peter.

Guy's been totally sandbagging my work

into the nachos locos account,

which I have had...

Ok, can I stop you there for one moment?

Who gives a crap?

Seriously. You act like you are out there curing cancer.

You are Hawking chips for a third-rate ad agency.

But I thought you said I should...

No no. Don't think, shut up.

I want your thoughts, I will ask for them.

Take off your jacket.

Hands.

Much better.

We will be playing a little game

called "Guess the Toy".

Try number one.

Try number two.

On second thought,

we won't be needing toy number one.

Hey, what are you doing up?

Busy nights.

Where have you been?

Oh, out and about, mixing up--

you know, little dancing, little drinking.

Little what-have-you.

Abraham.

You are clearly dehydrated.

Let me fix you a tonic to restore your electrolytes.

Tell me that's not...

Eau de l'amour.

She's back again, isn't she?

Maureen Delacroix,

the face, that broke a thousand hearts,

and a bosom that still defies gravity.

She's your ex-wife, Abraham.

Maureen and I have always been like wild animals.

Why do you think I married her? Twice.

You also fought like wild animals, and you were divorced twice.

Well, you know what they say.

"Third time's a charm?"

No.

You can't have the sweet without the sour.

That woman has done nothing but hurt you time after time.

Are you talking about the incident with the gun?

She didn't know it was loaded.

No, Abe.

I'm worried about her breaking your heart.

At my age? I should be so lucky.

It shows it's still working.

Hit me again, will you?

Sex, drugs, skydiving.

It's strange that the things we do for a thrill,

in order to make ourselves feel alive,

are the same things that may kill us.

The same is true when it comes to human relationships.

The people we love the most

are the ones capable of hurting us the most deeply.

Name's Richard Gaines.

Found 600 bucks in his wallet,

so you can rule out robbery.

No obvious signs of trauma.

Quite the opposite. Manicured nails,

laser hair removal on his fingers.

This man controlled the image he presented to the world.

You got all that from a hand?

The way we treat our bodies

reflects who we are, detective.

All right, doc.

Well, according to his license,

he lives less than half a mile from here.

Maybe someone knew his route,

waited.

Guy looks rich -- probably had enemies.

Yeah, well, scratches on his face, he got them being dumped.

Moving car, maybe?

And they didn't bleed, which means

he was already dead when he hit the ground.

Have you ever considered a career

as a medical examiner, detective?

No.

Forensics didn't find squat.

Any evidence that was left

was washed away with last night's rain.

It's a beautiful suit.

A tad on the ostentatious side, though.

You said he was vain, the laser hair removal.

Guy wanted to be noticed.

Or he wanted his clothes to be noticed, meaning

he wanted to hide what was beneath them.

What the hell?

This man - was flagellated -- whipped.

Though the lashes are superficial.

Manner of death, asphyxiation.

The broad band ligature marks suggest that he was

choked - with some sort of strap.

A belt, perhaps.

What do you think -- an interrogation gone wrong?

This guy was tortured.

Or maybe whoever did this to him

was looking for some kind of sick thrill.

The person who killed him wasn't the one looking for the thrill.

He was.

Is that a...

Black light?

Yes, it is. Bought it for a rave.

That was a joke.

No, I use it for travel.

I've seen enough biological residue

to never touch a hotel remote without one.

These injuries were

inflicted over the course of months,with care.

Suggesting complete self-control.

So, if it's not a crime of passion...

At least not a traditional crime of passion.

What are you saying?

He was into the rough stuff.

A textbook case of sadomasochism.

What, do you mean he wanted someone to do this to...

What is wrong with people?

Let me ask you a question, Detective.

You've never consumed alcohol to excess?

Never driven beyond the speed limit or engaged

with a partner of a dubious sexual history?

Done all three at once, to be perfectly honest.

Hey, I'm just a man, doc.

So was he.

What is your point, Henry?

It's a fine line between pleasure and pain.

Mrs. Gaines?

I'm sorry.

This is a lot to process at once.

I'm still trying to figure out way to tell my kids

that their father is dead.

Here.

Thank you.

You and your husband -- you were happy?

Of course we were happy.

The injuries on your husband's body suggest...

ritualized punishment.

Can you tell us anything about your husband's proclivities?

Did you and your husband engage in any sort of...

sex games.

It was therapy.

And it wasn't with me.

Richard had a domination therapist --

called herself Iona Payne.

I take it that's an alias.

Did you give your husband permission

to have sex with this woman?

It wasn't about sex.

Then whas it about?

Power.

Richard was a powerful man.

He worked in a world where any weakness might be exploited.

He learned not to let his guard down to anyone --

not even me.

Nearly cost us our marriage.

Therapists, counselors -- none of it helped.

Until he met Iona.

You never felt any resentment or jealousy?

Are you married, Detective?

No.

Then how could you possibly understand?

She gave me my husband back.

Would you like to visit a domination therapist?

There's a first time for everything.

Lovely room.

Have to say,

it's more therapist than dominatrix.

I should've brought Lucas' black light.

I bet you this place lights up like a peep-show booth.

I'm just saying,

there's no way this woman is not a prostitute.

Nice ink.

See you next week.

My receptionist didn't tell me I had a couples session.

Oh, we're not a couple.

Um, NYPD.

We just want to ask a few questions.

Where's yours?

I'm just a humble medical examiner.

Come in.

Do you mind if I change?

My 3:00 has a different therapeutic need.

Um, we can give you a minute,

if...you need...

No, it's fine. I'm good if you are.

Henry?

Yes. Sorry.

Please have a seat.

How can I help you two?

Uh, we'd like to ask you about one of your clients,

Richard Gaines.

His wife said he'd been coming here

to see you the last two years.

That's correct.

When was the last time you saw him?

Uh, last night. We had a 9:00 P.M. session.

Do you mind telling us what that session entailed?

Oh, I don't talk about my clients

without their permission.

Your client is dead.

What happened?

You tell us. You were the last one to see him alive.

Your client was strangled to death.

Was that part of his therapy?

My job is to help people unlock their pain.

Well, judging from our victim's body,

it's also about inflicting it.

Mind if I have a look around?

Please. Be my guest.

Physical pain serves a function.

It teaches us.

Wouldn't you agree, doctor?

Well, it teaches us to protect ourselves.

In an ideal world, we learn from it.

Psychic pain is different.

I help people...

trade one sort of pain for another,

more harmless one.

Harmless, huh?

Guy was choked.

If I'm not mistaken,

this would have left a mark

like the one we found on the victim's neck.

You're not mistaken.

Pulley system.

So that you may strangle your clients with a rope.

You need to tell us what happened

between you and the victim here last night.

I would never hurt a client.

Of course not,

but choking someone isn't exactly a science, is it?

Richard trusted me.

Perhaps he trusted the wrong person.

Go ahead and have a seat right there.

Let me ask you a question, doc.

Why would people pay 300 bucks an hour

to get their asses kicked?

If it makes them forget their true pain...

I'd call it a bargain.

You said that Richard left at 10:00.

Where were you at 11:00?

I was with another client.

Great.

Give me a name, and we can clear all this up right now.

Come on, you're really gonna risk a murder charge

to protect the privacy of a client?

I didn't kill Richard.

No, but you did do this.

The lash marks are mine.

How about the bruises on his throat?

Your client died of asphyxiation.

We know that you choked him.

Right, but that's not what killed him.

My medical examiner already gave us the cause of death.

Your M.E. was wrong --

not about the asphyxiation, but about what caused it.

Richard wasn't choked.

Why should we trust a dominatrix over a doctor?

Well, which one of us has more experience choking people?

The muscles in Richard's neck were too thick,

due to our previous sessions.

So what, in your expert opinion, killed him?

He stopped breathing.

Isn't that how everybody dies, technically?

Well, not like this.

Richard was forced to stop breathing by his own body.

How is that possible?

- He was electrocuted. - He was electrocuted.

I don't see any burn marks on his body.

A persistent low-grade charge

would have forced his diaphragm to seize up

and his lungs to stop.

The entry point would have been small...

Likely obscured by a bruise.

It's an easy mistake for the untrained eye.

Are you okay, Henry?

Well, hardly.

She's right.

Hello, Abraham.

M-maureen.

W-what are you doing here?

Oh, I was in the neighborhood.

I thought I'd just pop in and say hello.

What happened to our meeting for dinner?

I-I told you I had work to do.

Oh, I won't disturb you.

I just wanted to see where you spend your days.

I love that smell.

Old furniture?

No, you --

your musk.

Well, get back to work.

I'm just gonna...

take a little look around.

I love this piece.

Damn you, Maureen.

What did I do?

Uh, nothing, nothing.

It's just that you're you and I'm me,

and we both know how this is gonna end.

Well, we've always burned hot, haven't we?

Until someone gets burned.

But not this time, Abe.

We're not a couple of dumb kids anymore.

We've learned from our mistakes.

So why am I doing this?

So, I was thinking about all that rain we had last night, right?

I was wondering if any of the evidence from the crime scene

might have washed its way all the way down the block to the...

sewer.

Yeah, so, when you thought of this little project,

you thought of me?

Well, can you picture Henry doing this?

I think that little dominatrix really got under his skin.

Yeah, well, it's not like Henry to be out-sherlocked

on a cause of death.

What is this?

Cattle prod.

The D.O.A. was electrocuted to death, right?

Maybe I can get some prints off this thing.

Thanks.

You see that, Lucas?

Nucleic streaming.

An idiot can see that this man was electrocuted.

Okay, I-I'm gonna stop you right there.

Oh, please.

Not another boilerplate pep talk

filled with inane sports metaphors.

Do you know how many jump shots

Michael Jordan missed in his career?

Over 9,000 -- 9,000!

And that's supposed to help me how?

Because, Henry,

everybody, even the greatest of all time,

pooched it every once in a while.

Now you know what it feels like to be us --

to be mortal.

Yes.

Yes, I suppose that is rather comforting.

You know, I-I was gonna go get a drink around the corner,

if you wanted to wrap up here and join.

Next time.

"Next time" is what you said last time.

Hope you figure it out.

Dr. Morgan.

Sorry.

Are you with a client?

Well, that depends --

on why you're here.

I was in the neighborhood,

and I wanted to talk to you about erotic electrocution.

Talk about cutting to the chase.

It seems to me that you are uniquely qualified

to paint a portrait of our killer.

You have...keen acumen.

Electrocution is something I use sparingly --

usually on the back.

Other times, somewhere else.

How can it turn deadly?

If the person administering it doesn't know what they're doing.

I could give you a demonstration.

It would be purely professional, of course.

I suppose I'm afraid to relinquish control.

I think you're afraid of a great many things, doctor.

That's not one of them.

Hand.

Be gentle.

Of course.

Too tight?

I'm fine.

Next, his arms would be raised in a stress pose, like so.

I'm not gonna hurt you.

We can stop anytime you want.

No, I'm -- I'm fine.

Please continue.

But somebody did hurt you, didn't they?

Somebody you loved, that you trusted.

Nora?

I never meant to do this to you.

If I could have made it home sooner...

Henry?

Is that you?

How?

They told me you were dead,

that you fell over the side of the ship.

I don't know how to explain.

All that matters is that I'm home, darling.

Do you know what this is, Henry?

It's a miracle.

It was a long time ago.

Let me help you unlock that pain.

I'm much more interested in catching your client's killer.

You hide behind your work, Doc.

Your real area of expertise is avoiding any real intimacy.

Perhaps I enjoy the solitude.

Human connection is all any of us are looking for.

Let me help you.

I'm a hard case --

too much history.

I don't mind a challenge.

At first, you will beg me to stop.

And then you'll beg me not to.

Well, it was right here.

Hold on.

Perhaps this might be a good time to release me.

This has been most informative. Thank you.

Ms. Payne, A.K.A. Molly Dawes,

You're under arrest for murder.

- What?! - Yep.

We found the murder weapon used to kill your client.

Your prints were all over it.

Someone else here?

H-Henry?

Detective Martinez.

Might I trouble you for a handcuff key?

I can explain.

Uh, no. You don't have to do that.

What did she say?

Same thing everybody says --

that she didn't do it.

I'm inclined to believe her.

A woman who beats people for a living?

And I dismember dead bodies.

Meaning?

That though our occupations are unusual,

we're both professionals.

You want to know

what Iona did before she became a dom?

She was a therapist.

You want to know how she lost her license?

She had an affair with one of her patients --

Joseph Briggs.

When Iona tried to break it off with him,

he killed himself.

Now, I'm not saying that

she tried to kill either of them,

but clearly she has a history of crossing lines.

What would you like me to call you --

Iona or Molly?

I suppose "Mistress Payne" is out of the question.

Well, look at the bright side.

At least one of us ended up in handcuffs.

They really are gonna charge me

with Richard's murder, aren't they?

It's not looking good.

The incident with your former patient

Joseph Briggs...

you want to tell me about it?

Yeah.

Yeah, I mean, it was simple.

I got too close.

I knew better, but I was 27 years old,

and so I let myself fall in love with a deeply troubled man.

I did learn my lesson about getting involved with patients.

- So you and Richard Gain-- - No.

Besides, he wasn't even my type.

I prefer the lone wolves.

If you give me the name of the client you were with

at the time of Richard's death,

I can confirm your alibi.

You know I can't do that.

I respect your scruples,

but protecting a man's anonymity isn't worth prison.

Most people think my job is about what I do to my clients.

It's what I don't do.

I bring them right to the edge,

and in that moment where they are completely vulnerable

and I can do anything I want to them...

I stop.

It's ironic, isn't it?

Uh, what's that?

That the only way you can truly feel alive

is to give another person the power to destroy you.

Are you ever going to tell me

what happened to you on that ship?

Not if I can help it.

I have ways of loosening your tongue, Henry Morgan.

So, why won't you tell me?

Because you won't believe me.

I can hardly believe it myself sometimes.

You can tell me anything.

I've given you my whole heart.

Why can't you give me yours?

Oh, good Lord. What happened?

You don't remember?

How could I forget?

Is it me, or are we just getting better with age?

Like a fine Bordeaux.

Speaking of which, I should clean up.

Or...we could just leave it how it is.

Well, yeah, I'd love to, but it's almost noon,

and somebody's got to open the store.

Oh? Says who?

The guy who's got to work for a living,

thanks to his two divorces

which were worth every penny.

Let me make it up to you, Abe.

Come away with me, Abe.

Let's do all the crazy things that we always talked about.

That's why you came back, hm?

To tempt me to drop everything and join you

on some cocktail-fueled grand tour?

Oh, I wasted so many years just

wondering if there was something better around the corner.

Then I figured it out.

The best thing in my life

was there from the start.

You.

We were meant to be.

But we're not spring chickens.

That, I know.

So...

What's keeping you here,

surrounded by all this...old stuff?

Did you find something, Detective?

What are the chances

I have these exact same boots at home?

Why would Iona hide her client list in there?

You're just snooping.

It is called a general search warrant, Henry.

And yes,

I am snooping.

She likes you, you know.

I beg your pardon?

Iona.

Come on, henry.

You see everything, and you don't see that?

I hardly see what that has to do with anything.

Relax, henry.

I am not suggesting that you ask our murder suspect out.

Why would Iona be reading that?

She wouldn't.

It's an ironic disguise for her appointment book.

So, where was she Wednesday at 11:00 p.m.?

A. Schopenhauer.

Hold that.

- Hello? - Hanson.

Hey, I need you to run a last name for me...

- Schopen-- - hello?

Hanson?

Damn it.

They're all aliases.

Her clients are named after existential philosophers.

Schopenhauer came after Wittgenstein and Kierkegaard.

What's wrong, bad reception?

- No. Something else. - Hello?

Hey, Hanson, keep the line open.

I've heard this interference before.

Looks like Iona's got a bug problem.

Surveillance device?

And it's one of ours.

I don't know anything about surveillance.

I'm just a retired cop living on a pension.

Really?

'cause you checked out that unit in May of '02,

And you never returned it.

Things get lost, sweetie.

Yeah, but you do work as a P.I. now.

So let's cut the crap, all right, sweetie?

Who hired you to bug Iona Payne's office?

Who's Iona Payne?

She's a woman looking at 25 to life for murder.

Wish I could help, but, as you know,

unlawful surveillance also comes with a stiff sentence.

Okay.

What do you want?

Guarantee of immunity from prosecution.

That ought to do the trick.

Deal.

It was the dead guy's wife who hired me--

Gwyneth Gaines.

She thought her hubby was playing hide-the-whip

with his dominatrix.

Was he?

Ain't that a kick.

I mean, this guy paid to get his ass whipped

by some skank in a leather skirt.

I don't see how casting aspersions...

Hey, to each his own. I'm saying.

But what this lady was charging,

at least a guy can get his rocks off.

That's enough.

- Take it easy, doc. - I'm sorry.

I didn't realize you had a soft spot for whores.

Oh! Henry!

Iona was right.

Pain can be quite liberating.

Now, quit being a baby.

He had a very hard face.

What happened to you?

Threw the old back out, I guess.

Maureen?

So, the honeymoon continues.

Well, here's the thing.

I don't think it's gonna end this time.

That's what you said about both your previous marriages.

Maureen wants me to go away with her.

Before passing judgment,

don't you think you should meet her?

I thought we decided

I should never meet anyone you're involved with.

Because they'd eventually find out about your condition.

Well, at this point in my life, I don't think you need to worry.

You know I don't like talking about...

Yes.

About the fact that my days are numbered.

Well, Maureen makes me feel alive.

That's ironic, given the number of times she's tried to kill me.

But you trust her this time?

Despite my better judgment, I do.

Then I look forward to meeting her.

Trust is a rare thing in this world.

Stop, Henry! Don't do this!

I can prove that what I told you is real.

Please, Henry! I won't lose you all over again!

I'll come back to you, and then you'll see

that my story is true -- I'm immortal.

Put it down if you love me.

I do.

Which is why I can't go on

with you believing that I'm insane.

I believe you, Henry!

I believe you.

I'm sorry it took me so long to believe it.

Oh, Nora.

Oh, thank you.

Oh, thank you.

I wanted to believe him...

but part of me just... couldn't.

Believe that your husband wasn't having sex with Iona?

But if it wasn't sex,

what was she giving him that I couldn't?

I loved my husband.

I wanted to be his everything.

How do you think it made me feel

that she was the one finally able to reach him?

Mrs. Gaines, where were you at 11:00

the night your husband was murdered?

You don't think that I --

Where were you?

I wanted to feel what my husband felt,

what made him so happy, that I couldn't do for him.

I never told her I was his wife.

You're the client she was protecting.

Can I get you to write that down on a deposition?

That way, I can cut Ms. Payne loose as a murder suspect.

Good night's rest?

Ah. Clearly, you've never spent the night in jail.

Clearly, you don't know me in the slightest.

I was hoping to remedy that, doctor.

I thought you said you'd learned your lesson

about crossing lines with patients.

Oh, I'm not interested in you as a patient.

Do you have a cell number?

E-mail address?

Instagram account?

- Facebook page? - No.

Twitter handle? Nothing?

Well, how am I supposed to send you racy pictures of myself?

Well, I'm sure I can remedy that.

I'm open to change.

Don't change too much, okay?

I kind of like you just how you are.

Why don't you just call him?

Henry doesn't own a cellphone.

He doesn't believe in them.

But he does own a watch, and he's never, ever late.

Well, I'm sure he has a good reason.

Ah. Well, you don't know Henry.

How dumb do you think I am, Abe?

You think I don't know who Henry is?

Your little secret?

Hm. I figured it out years ago.

What little secret?

That he's your son, you old dog.

Yes. Right.

You caught me. I have a son.

And this dinner was to introduce us.

You're so sweet, Abe.

But your Henry is a grown man,

and you don't have to baby him anymore,

so wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine.

Patience, doctor.

Almost there.

No, I haven't heard from Henry.

Have you talked to Lucas?

You mean that dingbat in his lab?

He said he left work two hours ago.

Oh, you know Henry.

Exactly. This is a special occasion.

He wouldn't miss it unless something was wrong.

Okay, let me, uh, let me see what I can do.

Thanks, kid. I knew I could count on you.

What are we looking for?

Southwest corner of the precinct.

Start scrolling at 5:00 pm.

Okay, there. That's him.

He's walking to his bike.

What is this guy doing?

- Oh, my god. - Aw, geez.

All right, I'm gonna put out a bolo on a black cargo van.

Creep took his plates off.

If we get a good look at his face...

Hey, w-wait -- wait a minute.

Let -- let me see that last bit again.

Oh, I see it.

That tattoo.

I've seen him before.

Look, I know he's your client.

I get your confidentiality policy.

But he's kidnapped my partner.

If you care anything about Dr. Morgan's life --

His name's Wadlow -- Cliff Wadlow.

Do you have an address?

I have his number. You can track his cell, right?

About a month ago,

Wadlow started leaving me inappropriate messages,

and he wasn't respecting boundaries during our sessions,

so I made him take a break and restricted him

to once a week, during daytime hours.

Oh, my god.

This is my fault.

What?

When I stopped seeing him,

I gave his regular time session to Richard.

Well, that still doesn't explain what he has against Henry.

He must have been following me. He must have seen me --

What, Iona? What did he see?

Seen me kissing Henry outside of the station house today.

B-but...Would he want to hurt Henry?

Given what his stepfather did to him,

I think he's capable of anything.

I can see that you want to kill me...

And I'm sure that your reasons are sound,

but if I may ask one favor of you,

make it quick.

Best to get it over with, don't you think?

Not a chance, doctor.

I want to enjoy every last minute of this.

I thought you might feel that way.

Please... Stop.

I've always been on the receiving end,

but it's fun inflicting pain, too.

I'm happy to switch places.

I saw you at her office last night,

and today, I saw you kiss her.

Iona belongs to me!

You understand?

She is mine!

It won't happen again.

I know.

I'm gonna make you hurt

like you have never hurt in your life.

Honestly...

I don't believe that's possible.

We'll see about that.

Stop it!

Stop it! There's been a mistake!

Nora, please tell them there's been a mistake!

I just want you to get better.

But you said you believed me.

Because I wanted to stop you from hurting yourself.

You haven't been the same man since you came home.

I'm not the same man!

Nora, please tell them!

Nora!

Nora!!

I trusted you!

Bedlam is the only place

for someone in his high state of delirium.

When will he be cured, doctor?

As long as it takes to purge him of his madness.

Oh, good. You're awake.

Ready for another round of treatment?

Listen to me.

I know what it is to be alone,

to have been betrayed

by the one person you thought you could trust.

Killing me won't ease the pain.

It'll only make it worse.

So what's the point in living?

- Drop it! NYPD! - Let me see those hands!

- Put it down! - Drop that!

You said you wanted to die fast?

Henry, don't worry. We're gonna get you down.

- Get him down. - Yeah.

All right. Loosen him.

We got you. Come here.

Come here.

Okay, you're safe.

You okay?

What is that?

Story for another time.

Thank God!

That was Henry.

What happened?

What happened?

Well, h-he was, um...

kind of tied up, uh, with work.

You're not coming with me, are you?

On the grand tour?

Nah, I can't. I --

This is where I belong.

Well, Henry's lucky to have you.

I really was looking forward to being husband number 5.

Oh, Abe.

You know you've always been number 1.

Our body feels pain to warn us of danger.

But it also reminds us we're alive,

that we can still feel.

That's why some of us seek it out...

...while others choose to numb it.

Solitude has always been my analgesic of choice.

But what if feeling nothing is the worst pain of all?

What if the sharing of pain connects us to others

and reminds us that none of us is alone

as long as we can feel?

You came.

Well, I was in the neighborhood, and, uh...

Hey, doctor, doctor. Come on, grab a seat.

What is your poison?

Cognac -- older, the better.

Got it.

When you asked about my scar,

the reason I didn't tell you was --

No, listen, I'm sorry.

I didn't -- I didn't mean to pry.

No, it's...

I want you to know the story.

I was shot.

Shut the front door!

He's here! Look at that!

Sorry. I totally just violated your personal space.

One might argue that was long overdue.

Of course, one would be wrong.

And here's your little fancy-pants drink, doc.

Henry Morgan having a drink with the old gang?

Never thought I'd live to see the day.

Well, you live long enough, anything is possible.

Cheers to that, right?

- Cheers. - Absolutely.

Hey, you're behind. Drink that up.

Come on. We're three in at this point.