All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.Criminal.Intent.S05E17.Vacancy.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_[eng]

In New York City's
war on crime,

the worst criminal offenders
are pursued

by the detectives
of the Major Case Squad.

These are their stories.

Snow, schmo.

We live in Denver--
we laugh at snow.

Alice, I cannot miss
this flight.

It's really coming down
now.

Ugh, that cigar smell
nauseates me.

That tea rose
you showered in

isn't doing me
any favors, either.

But I'm too much
of a gentleman--

Two of us were
the only single bride maids...

at the shower,
they gave us crap.

I think they were jealous.

Honey, their lives
are over,

and yours have
just begun.

When I get back
from the bathroom,

we have to go.

That girl is
Rocky Mountain hard.

Shh!

Um, give me your number, in case
our flight gets cancelled.

Mm.
Okay.

Car service won't come
in this weather.

Whoo!

Looks like we are
gonna be stranded

in New York City.

We have nowhere--

There's a cab!

Hurry!

Come on!

Should've stayed with those guys, they were hot.

They were not hot.

And that cigar smoke...
oh, so macho.

Okay,
name one male person

whose bones you want
to jump.

Wait--wait.

Wait, how about
Cabbie McCutie?

Sir!

Excuse me,
sir.

Will you kiss my friend
to settle an argument?

Alice, stop.

Now.

I just heard on my radio
all airports are closed.

-Oh, no.
-Whoo!

Maybe you can find
a hotel near here.

Really sorry.

I thought this would
be faster than the highway.

Well, this
is Brooklyn, right?

Park Slope?

No, we're nowhere near there,
this is Myrtle Avenue.

The Brooklyn Lights Inn,
on Flushing.

It's close.

35 bucks,
cash in advance.

I see angels.

Snow angels.

All right--
Alice.

Two-C, bathroom's
down the hall.

Two beds, right?

We need two beds.

You're out of luck, dear.

Sweet dreams.

Thanks.
Come on.

You need some towels?

I want all my friends
to be happy--

No, no, no.

Alice, someone was watching me
in the bathroom.

Well.

If Pete and Jayson
were here...

♪ Towels for you!

♪ To wrap you in♪

♪ With all my love♪

♪ Quiero entregarte mí amor♪

I told you not to knock
after midnight.

I'm an old man,
and I need to sleep.

I need a key deposit.

Key deposit--
it's the middle of the night!

No, this is on you.

I asked you
three times--

No, no!

This is harassment!

That's what this is,
you under--

So--so...

Something happened
to my friend...

They were in town
for a bridal shower.

On the way to the airport,they heard everything shut down,

so a cab
dropped them off here.

A Motel Zero--
good choice.

One of the girls, Alice,
went to the john

in the middle
of the night.

When she came back,
her friend Megan is dead.

Where's Alice now?

Wyckoff Hospital,
getting checked out.

The guests,
we're gonna need their names

and their room numbers.

Place is a toilet.

How are we doing
with witnesses?

Not so good.

Woman next door heard
one of the girls yell,

"That's gross."

Valuables are still here.

Was there another key?

Just that one.

Door self-locks,
no sign of forced entry.

Oh, yeah.

These girls where doingsome heavy drinking last night.

Here's whothey did it with.

Pete,and a phone number.

There's a tobacco smell.

It's all around here.

All the wounds
are to the head.

There's no sign
of struggle.

The first blow might've
immobilized her.

This'd do the trick.

Lead crystal.

"Tory's Merry Maidens."

Beaten to deathwith her bridesmaid's gift.

The blood.

The way it's smeared.

As if somebodylaid down next to her,

and rolled in it.

I got in bed in the dark.

It was wet and sticky.

I-I thought
she threw up.

Did you say anything to her?

I think I yelled
at her.

For getting sick.

And then I turned ona light,

and saw all the blood.

You see anybody
in the hall?

There was a guy
singing

when we went
to sleep.

And Megan said someone
was watching her.

-Where?
-In the bedroom?

Maybe the bathroom?

I can't remember,
I was drunk.

Either of you smoke?

No.

Megan went nuts
at Tory's shower

when one of the girls
lit up.

She complained about the smell
all day.

I think she was
a health freak.

You think?
You didn't know her well?

Just through Tory,
you know, the bride?

Who's Pete?

You had his number.

He's a guy we met
at this bistro,

before we went
to the airport.

I wanted to stay,
but Megan made us leave.

Were you angry at her?

You blame her
for ending up at the hotel?

She would've beenbetter off without me.

Why?

Did you feel responsible?

Because you left her
in the room, alone?

You know, we found
the room key

on the table
next to the door.

Is that where you left it
when you came back?

Yeah.

Is that because
it was dark

and the table was the only thingthat you could see

in the light
from the hall?

Right.

No--see, Alice,
we found the key

on the nightstand.

You didn't take the key
with you at all, did you?

I couldn't find
the key...

in the dark,
so...

I left the door open
using the deadbolt.

I didn't think...

I'm so sorry--I didn't thinkthat anything like that

was gonna happen.

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...

We've alibied everyone on this floor,

so maybe someonefrom another floor.

Who's in this room?

Two-F.

Two-F...
it was vacant.

Peephole's been cleaned.

There's a clear view
to the girls' room.

He might've waited hereuntil one of them went

into the bathroom.

There's no trash.

Not even
a candy wrapper.

Our guy's got
self-control.

Well, it looks like
there might be

one bad habit
he couldn't resist.

Cigar.

Somebody had a cigar
burning in here.

The wastebasket
in the girls' room--

the liner bag, it was tied off to the side, wasn't it?

Oof.
Cigar.

And look at this.

It's still oily.

It's from smoke.

Smoke box?

Lit the cigar, put the can on top.

Megan--she had the smell
of tobacco around her neck,

and one of her friends said
she hated that smell.

Our boy knew that.

He cured his gloves
with smoke.

To shove them
in her face.

It's someone
who knew her.

Someone who
followed her here.

Hi, Pete, it's Alice.

I'm still in New York.

Something awful's happened,
and I'm...

feeling so messed up
over it.

Call me?

Talk about dodging
a bullet.

Pete and Jayson didn't leave
when we did.

They said they were
gonna wait out the snow.

Either of them
have a car?

Yeah.

But I don't know
which one.

I can't believe
they followed us.

Did you call Pete
from the hotel?

Yes.

I asked him
to come rescue us.

He said he was
too tired.

And what happened
between Jayson and Megan?

She thought he was
too macho.

You said that she didn't like
the smell of tobacco.

Jayson--

was he a smoker?

Cigars.

Megan switched seats
to get away from the smell.

How'd Jayson take that?

Bad.

He called her
Rocky Mountain hard,

loud enough
so everybody heard.

Clever.

Have you talked to Pete since Sunday?

I left a message
for him last night.

I'm just really alone here.

I know you asked me
to stay a few days,

but I'm sleeping
on Tory's couch.

And she's got her fiancé.

Well, the, uh--the department
can get you a hotel room.

Have you talked to anybody
at Victim Services?

Not yet.

Yeah.

Well, we'll get someone
to, uh, speak with you.

Okay.

And, uh...

You could wait here.

Thank you, so much.

Looks like you're
her designated white knight.

She's over Pete,
and onto you.

She wants
to be rescued.

If this is the way she is
in a police station,

I can only imagine the signals
she was sending Pete and Jayson.

Alice told us the two of you
hit it off on Sunday.

We had
a good time.

Just waiting
for the snow to stop.

And then she left
with her friend.

She called you later...

from the hotel,
is that right?

Like, five times.

They, uh--they ended up
in some dump,

and she wanted us
to come down there and get them.

Us.

So your friend Jayson,

he was with you
when Alice called.

No, I was still
at the bistro.

And he'd already left
to go dig his car out.

We heard that he struck out
with Megan.

She was just anxious
about her flight.

Anxious--and rude, to your friend.

I mean, she said
that he smelled.

The changing of her seat...

Not that your friend's manners
were any better.

What did he call Megan?

Rocky Mountain hard?

I don't know
what Alice told you.

Well, the word "macho" came up.

Maybe the kind of macho pride
to drive to Brooklyn

and teach Megan a lesson.

Before you accuse people,
you should consider the source.

The source--
you mean Alice.

That night she called
five times.

You are so bad
to leave me here.

Get wine, come out.

You know we'll have fun.

She's just angry that
we didn't drive out to Brooklyn

in a snowstorm.

Check my phone.

Alice called me
at 9:36.

Jayson left the bistro
at 9:00.

Ask the hostess.

Why would she remember?

They ripped
his down jacket...

in the coat room.

Jayson made a big stink.

They'll remember him.

Yesterday we got this letter

with a picture
of his coat and the bill.

This doesn't look torn,
it's cut.

That's what I tried
to tell him.

Well, his coat gets cut right after

he publicly insults Megan.

Maybe someone in the bar
took offense?

Maybe Megan had
a secret admirer?

Can we see your receipts
for Sunday night?

All right this check, it's a single.

The table number's been
crossed out and changed.

Sir Sits-A-Lot.

He changed tables.

He's a regular?

Every couple weeks.

Real picky
about where he sits,

but he tips big.

Could you show us
the first table he sat?

Yeah,
right over here.

Here, facing the mirror.

And the four-top,
which table was that?

Under that painting.

Yeah, he could've watched
the table from here.

And the table
that he moved to?

Over here.

And now I can see the chair behind the pillar.

He moved
to keep an eye on her.

You know
Sir Sits-A-Lot's name?

Sorry--
and he always pays cash.

Two burger patties rare...

No bun.

Four coffees.

Always the same thing?

Except he used to want
the patties medium well.

And then for a while
it was medium rare.

And now
he wants it rare.

Any other eccentricities?

He likes the way
our napkins smell.

He borrowed a couple to show his laundry.

He say which laundry?

Suds Palace,
two blocks down.

I told him we don't do
custom smells.

We just need his name.

What about the smells--
he had allergies?

Yeah, allergic
to being normal.

Special instructions
for everything.

Like all the pants
he made my mother take in.

Take in.

He was losing weight?

He said--
like we care.

Here--
L. Summerhill.

No address,
no phone number.

I think he's at
the Merriweather Hotel.

He's always bringing in
their towels.

Mr. Summerhill?

It's me, Ruben.

I need to talk to you
about this week's bill.

Clear.

Yeah, clear.

Oh, something tells me
we're tracking the right scent.

I overheard the maids
talking about this.

Would you mind
waiting in the hall?

We'll probably need you
for a sketch.

So dead animals.

Live women.

The losing weight,
the rare meat,

the burned meat--
he's in process.

Picky, picky, picky.

Guess how Mr. Summerhill
pays the rent

on his
little picture gallery?

A cab driver's log sheet.

Wonder if he drops off fares
at the Brooklyn Lights Inn?

Vetiver.

What's that?

Your perfume.

Know what vetiver is?

No idea.

It's a grass that grows wild
in the tropics.

Really?
That's fascinating.

Only two Lester Summerhills
registered with the DMV.

Both over 50,
none with a hack license.

Latent ran the prints
and got nothing.

All right, well,
his toiletries are missing.

If he's in escape mode,
why leave these behind?

You know half-naked women
and animal carnage

suggests violence against women
without really showing it.

The Adventure Squad...
my kid brother had one of those.

This one's smashed up.

50 bucks
from the House of Play.

He gets his kicks
destroying vintage toys?

Some kids like
to play rough.

We need to know
who bought it.

A guy...mid-thirties, maybe?

Yeah, that's him.

I didn't get his name,
though.

He paid cash
about a month ago.

You mentioned kids--
he had a kid with him?

No, not this time.

But the first time
he came in, two months ago?

He had a little boy with him,
maybe five or six.

They bought
that ant farm.

Any idea if he was related
to the boy?

Maybe an uncle?

When he came in
to buy this,

I asked him
how his son was doing,

and he said he didn't
have a son,

but in a way that didn't invite
further conversation.

There's a coupon here
for a free magnifying glass.

There's also a section
for the retailer to fill out.

That's you.

Yeah.

I even mailed it in
for the kid.

They should've sent him
his magnifier by now.

We'll check.

Mrs. Rainey?

It's the police.

Osborne's dad looks
just like our sketch.

Interesting he'd deny
having a son.

This is...

Are you curious?

Now you got me going.

This label says "Joe."

All those books...

Medical books,
books on addiction...

Plays.

It's Willie Loman's son
Biff...

He was a college student,
he stole a pen

during an interview.

I don't know who Joe is,
but he's got issues.

That's Joe...

a gay Mormon,
Angels in America.

These--these bins, they each
represent a character

that this guy is working on.

And all these materials,

this is what he uses
to prepare.

Our cab driver's an actor.

He's working on
another character.

Our son's fine--
he's at school.

I haven't talked to Tim
in two weeks.

He moved into a hotel
three months ago.

That's part
of his acting process.

He isolates himself
from us

so he can fully transform
into his character.

Must be hard
to deal with.

What role is he preparing
this time?

A serial killer.

Lester Summerhill,
for a film.

So his character
drives a taxi.

A bus.

But Tim's had a hack license
since college.

He thought, uh,
driving a cab again

would give him the same feeling
of observing his passengers.

Like Summerhill
picking his victims.

What do you want
with Tim?

The hotel was concerned with what they found

on the walls
of his room.

Yeah, he told me
about these.

Wait--they were still
on his wall?

You thought he was done
with them?

The movie fell through
last month.

Did Tim know? Yeah.

But he said he didn't want
to come home just yet.

Have you tried
to see him?

I don't know
what hotel he's in.

The Taxi Commission doesn't know
what cab he's driving.

There are 46,000 people

with hack licenses out there.

I'm surprised they talked
to you.

Did you go through
a private investigator?

Tim has an FBI agent

who helped him
research his role.

I called him.

I was worried.

The last time we spoke,
Tim was...

so cold.

I rode in his cab
a few months ago.

I was reading a book
about serial killers,

and he volunteered
that he'd read the book too.

And what did he have
to say about it?

He was very impressed
by it.

Most civilians are.

I pointed out the flaws
to him.

Had to be grateful
for that.

You still have the receipt
for that cab ride?

I can dig it up
for you.

When you talked
to Rainey,

how did he seem?

It was last month--
he seemed fine.

He said he was developing
the feral aspects

of his performance.

Feral.

Well, how would he propose
to do that?

He wanted me to take him
to crime scenes,

let him talk to suspects...

It was all getting
to be a bit much.

Well, how did you get him
to back off?

Little aversion therapy?

Well, I let him listen
to a tape.

A 911 call.

The call recorded a woman

being assaulted and killed
by an intruder.

I never heard from him again
after that.

-Tim?
-Hey!

Where are Ellen and Osborne?

Are you guys living in the city again?

No, uh...
I'm doin' a play.

Uh, big changes--
we are pregnant.

And we're finally moving
into that condo.

That's great.

The housewarming's two weeks from now.

You have to come.

You, uh...back to driving
a cab.

No, I'm, uh...research.

Oh--come to our party!

Okay?

See ya, Tim.

No easy listening?

Well...

Victim does a lot of screaming
and pleading for her life.

In the end, she just manages
baby talk.

And the killer
doesn't say a word.

It's just breathing,
and grunting, and...

Well, if Rainey had
any romantic notions

about his character,
this would've destroyed them.

Well, you can ask him
when we catch him.

I traced the medallion number
on the receipt

to the cab's owner.

He says Tim heads
to the taxi hold at JFK

every afternoon around 2:00.

We got no probable cause for arrest,

but I have an idea
about that.

Hi, fellas.

A little business proposition
here.

If you understand,
my girls are high-class.

When you drive a lonely man
to a five-star hotel,

think of me.

I pay 50 bucks
for every referral.

All right, man, but thanks
for listening anyway, all right?

How 'bout you?

Got any?

Got any ideas for me?

My kid's got
a medical situation.

I'm looking for some...
some hours.

I don't own my own cab,
I'm sorry.

Couple hundred dollars a week,
that's all I need.

Look, I'm not asking
for pity or--

Look, there's
an escort service.

She'll give you $50,
every businessman you send her.

Have a good day.

Thanks, man, you made my day--
I appreciate that.

Mine too. You're under arrest
for promoting prostitution.

The charge is crap.

It's entrapment.

Says you.

Looking over your logs, I see
you drove a fare from Tribeca

last Sunday to Flushing Avenue
in Brooklyn.

Wouldn't be
The Brooklyn Lights Inn,

would it?

Yeah.

Two women from out of town.

Their flight got snowed in.

Hmm...that was a bad night.

Where'd you eat?

You have my journal.

You know I was at
the same restaurant they were.

Crosses arms when Alice speaks...

Tea Rose...soap.

I'm preparing for a role
in a film as a serial killer.

We heard
it got cancelled.

You spoke to my wife.

It's delayed...
money problems.

Until they solve it,
you're gonna stay

in that hotel room,
looking at the pictures

of women and...
animals.

Can't explain Method acting
in one sitting

to two non-actors.

I've read a little
about Method acting.

That's the actor uses
his own memories to inform

his character's, uh,
like, emotional life.

That's right.

I, uh, search myself.

I find a personal experience

that makes the character's
story real for me.

It's called
affective memory.

If I'm trying
to forget Robert Goren,

why would I want to use
the memories of Robert Goren?

The only emotions authentic
to you are your own.

Authentic emotions.

Well, look, you seem to know
what you're talking about.

Entries in this journal
correspond

to what we know about
stalkers and serial killers.

Hmm, that stuff about smells--

Stalkers talk about how scent
fuels their attachments.

Stalkers can become very invested in their victims,

even want to protect them.

If you watch long enough,
sure.

You know, Agent Welken,
he played you that tape

because he thought it would
put you off your research.

But that didn't happen,
did it?

The emotion on that tape
was real.

I realized I had been
looking at pictures...

and playing with props....

instead of searching myself.

In life, and in art,

I'm committed to honesty.

I figured I'd be a better person,

better actor, if I just
stuck with my process

and found the truth
of the character.

But your wife
wanted you home.

Well...that's her.

Always pulling the plug on me
when things start getting good.

Getting good.

Like those girls getting
in your cab.

I never enter
my subjects' lives.

If I had, Megan might
still be alive.

How do you figure?

Well, her friend Alice tried
to push Megan and me together.

She pushed hard.

She even asked me to kiss Megan.

That's a drunk for you.

Right.

The whole trip,
Alice was going on

about how she left behind
this guy Pete,

and he was a sure thing.

But it was all a come-on
just to lure me

into the hotel for sex.

For sex with Megan?

No-- Alice was bugging Megan

about not liking men.

And it seemed to me, she was just

using Megan as bait.

I mean, Alice wanted someone

to come back to her room
that night.

And she wasn't too picky
about who it was.

I hate to think
who she invited in

after I said no.

Alice was drunk.

She was throwing herself
at Pete.

She might've picked
somebody up at the hotel.

So far Rainey's proving himself
a more reliable witness

than Alice.

You got to wonder why.

We have been
over and over this.

I asked him
to kiss Megan.

But it was a joke.

I was drunk.

Are you sure it wasn't a come-on
to get him up to your room?

For what, to have sex
with Megan?

God, no--
of all people.

Or sex with you.

Look, please,
I was drunk, okay?

You said,
"of all people."

Was it true that
you were teasing Megan

about not liking men?

You meant that
she was gay, right?

Megan wasn't officially out,
but we all knew she was gay.

You mean everybody at the bridal shower.

They give her
a hard time?

Not really.

Tory's fiancé said Megan
should marry me

because we're still alone.

So you don't think
that that hurt Megan?

Now, the suggestion that
you might be gay,

it offended you.

Well, it's not fair
to assume.

Just because I'm single--

Were you afraid Megan
got the wrong idea?

How would I know?
I was drunk.

You keep saying that
like it's an explanation.

But I blacked out.

But you know Megan told you
somebody was watching her.

You know you woke up
and couldn't find the key.

You can't black out
and know anything, Alice.

You can't have it
both ways.

Everybody thinks
that I don't want to help.

But I do.
I have been so sick over this.

I want to remember,
I want to help you.

Try now, Alice.

You want to help,
try remembering now.

Yes, yes,
I asked them for two beds.

I think I was worried
about Megan.

I think she...got too close,
and I panicked.

I hit her.

Alice.

I-I pushed her.

I think she must've
hit the floor, and bled.

I killed her! I killed her!
I killed her! I killed her!

I killed her!

Megan was killed
in a bed.

There's no evidence
that she was on the floor.

The details may be wrong,
but Alice's guilt seems genuine.

Sure, it's genuine.

She feels guilty
she left the door unlocked.

That she's homophobic.

But if I hadn't pushed her--

We wouldn't have a statement
exculpating Mr. Rainey.

But you did.

And now we do.

You made this problem.

Now fix it.

I knew she was unreliable.

I knew she was a mess,
but something about her

made me want
to just push her.

It'll be all right.

Look, these photos.

The hairdos...
what do you think, '70s?

Looks about right.

That's the same period
as this van.

It's when Rainey
was a child.

We have anything
in his pedigree?

He grew up in Ohio.

Moved from Youngstown
to Cleveland when he was seven--

it's the same time
his last name

was changed
to Rainey from Miles.

Eames.

Okay.

Carver wants to see us.
Captain says bring body armor.

My client was arraigned
last night on a charge

of promoting prostitution.

But based on
the prosecutor's information

that he's a prime suspect
in a murder,

bail was set
at half a million dollars.

It's now come to my attention the police

have elicited a confession

from another suspect
in this case.

Your Honor, the statement
Ms. Magill refers to

is a memory recovered
from the alcoholic blackout.

You're saying the confession
is invalid.

Its evidentiary value has not been established.

Maybe the detectives have some
personal experience judging

the veracity of people
in alcoholic stupors.

I can sort this out

without their help,
Ms. Magill.

Bail is reduced
to 50,000.

Good day.

Looks like Mr. Rainey
is going home.

The personal experience.

My dad's sister lived
with us for a year.

She was a foul-mouthed,
promiscuous drunk.

The next day she could
never remember a thing.

My dad refused
to give up on her,

until one day
she hit my little brother.

Then we never saw her again.

There's no way
Rainey could've known that.

Rainey picked up
on your attitude...

towards drunks.

Just like he picked up
on Alice's homophobia.

He said Alice was just
putting the moves on him.

Bogus insight.

Faked us out.

Put you on a collision course
with Alice.

He preyed
on my weakness...

now we can prey
on his.

Look what came up
on a database search of Ohio.

Tim was six when
he found his mother.

She was attacked with a brick
from the front walk.

Did he see the attack?

You know,
I don't think so.

We didn't even know
what stalking was back then.

I mean, I should've
put it together.

I mean,
she had changed addresses

five times in one year.

I mean, she pulled her kid
out of four different schools.

So you know
who killed her?

Linda told friends
that she was having problems

with some guy at work.

We interviewed him.

He said she was crazy,
sleeping around.

And you believed him.

Well, by the time
we wised up,

our guy'd left town.

We were worried
about Tim's safety,

so my wife and I
had him stay with us

until his uncle
came for him.

You had to answer his questions
about the crime.

Yeah, I told him
that the man was angry

at his mommy, not him.

Helped him sleep
at night.

He have
any other problems?

Red meat.

He couldn't even stand
to be around it.

It must have been that blood smell.

Must've gotten a nose full of it
when he found his mother.

Did you ever tell him,
over the years,

that it was
a stalking murder?

Didn't see any wisdom in it.

I mean,
a child that young,

if you don't
keep reminding them,

they forget.

You hope.

Osborne.

Dinner, now,
let's go.

What is your problem?

Why every time

he's happy
you have to tear him away?

It's not his fault--
it's yours.

I need a little time
to myself.

My client completely disavows
this so-called confession.

She was under duress.

I know what duress is.

And she was not under duress.

I'm not willing to withdraw
the material witness warrant.

I'm sorry.

Please, I know now,
I couldn't have killed Megan.

I was mean to her.

I don't know why.

But I didn't hurt her.

Let's go.

It'll work out, Alice.

Hang in there.

Thank you, Detective.

I'm trying to walk a tightrope,
and you just sawed it in half.

Now, unless you have evidence
against Mr. Rainey

you haven't told me about...

Just the beating death
of his mother

with a heavy object.

A fascinating parallel--
now turn it into evidence.

Look, Rainey's uncle--

he sent us
these family snapshots.

The truck was a gift
from his mother,

just like the one
that he bought.

And smashed.

Maybe these are
the authentic emotions

that he was reaching for.

Maybe he reached too far--

he lost control of them.

My lawyer doesn't want me
talking about the case.

Well, actually the D.A.
is filing charges

against Alice.

You're pretty much
in the clear.

We cane to return the items
we found in your hotel room.

We even put them in a plastic bin for you.

It's okay.
I wanted to bring this here.

I read this book.

Respect for Acting.

I respect what you do.

He's been talking my ear off about it.

You have to let him in.

Is your son here?

No.

Ellen took him to a movie.

You can
just put that down anywhere.

There's not a lot
of room in there.

I'll just
put it down here.

There's one thing that I learned
from this book.

A Method actors' life story
is their...

tool box.

It's my mother.

What are you doing
with that?

You weren't the only one

looking inside
Tim Rainey.

We were looking too.

Your mother's death was unsolved.

She was murdered
by a boyfriend.

I don't need to know
which one.

With all your self-examination
for your art,

I'm surprised
that you didn't put it together.

Put what together?

The moving around your mother did...

All the locks on her door...

She was being stalked.

How could I know?

I was six.

Here you are.

The stalker,
who was he?

Dead now. Cancer at 40.

You know,
some people believe

that if you live
a guilty life,

it will kill you.

And the people
that you love.

Don't put that there.

You know the fear,
on the women's faces

that you stalked.

That pushed a button
in you, didn't it?

It did, Tim, right?

Didn't it?

It was like electricity.

Like a...
an affective memory, right?

I knew
it meant something.

Yeah, it was the same look

on your mother...

when she was being stalked.

I guess that's why you kept at it.

Stalking...and the photos
in the hotel room...

I mean, even after
they cancelled the film.

I wasn't analyzing.

I was just feeling it.

Right, the senses.

The smells came back.

The rare meat,
and the...the blood.

You wanted to know what that meant, didn't you?

A great actor
can't stay ignorant

of his own life.

No, he can't.

I guess that's when things started going good for you.

You said your wife
wanted to pull the plug.

Your mother was like that.

When she got afraid.

She pulled you out of school--
away from your friends.

You don't have
a memory of that?

Of how you felt?

She dragged me
out of Star Wars.

Never even saw
the end of the movie.

I thought she was
just being mean.

Yeah, you got angry
at her--you lashed out.

Y'know, like a child does.

You broke the toy
that she gave you.

You bought this one.

And then you smashed it,

to remember the anger,

to build it up.

You were right out there
on the verge of the truth.

You understood your life
for the first time.

That's why you went
to Megan's room.

No, I didn't.

To up the stakes.

Because the more terror
for Megan,

the more breakthrough
for Tim.

I'm not the kind of beast
who hunted my mother.

But here you are, Tim.

Sleeping in the den,
knocking yourself out

with sleeping pills
and alcohol.

Yeah, why is that?

Why?

Is that so your family is safe from you?

Because you opened the box.

And now you're not sure

if you can close it.

It's acting--
I can control it.

No, you're faking, Tim.

Because you told us that
you're committed to honesty.

Honesty would make you a better man.

Well, you need to remember
your authentic emotions.

You need to go to the truth.

I didn't go there
to hurt her.

I believe that.

It just all
came rushing back.

Her look...
my hate...

They said Mommy had
a lot of boyfriends.

They said
she made a man mad.

That's all lies.

I started hitting her.

Punishing her.

Megan?

Yeah, Megan.

I ran back
to the other room.

My heart was pounding.

So hard... I thought
the whole place could hear it.

I couldn't stop
thinking about it.

Her fear...
when she saw me.

I just wanted
to do it again.

You're under arrest

for murder, Tim.

Come on.

My family will be home soon,
I can't...

-Yeah.
-I can't face 'em like this.

You can call them later
from the precinct.

I'll put in a call
to Alice when we get back.

This search for the truth...

it's not
for the fainthearted.