All language subtitles for Law.and.Order.Toronto.Criminal.Intent.S01E09.HDTV.x264-TORRENTGALAXY

In Toronto's
war on crime,

the worst offenders are pursued
by the detectives

of the specialized criminal
investigation's unit.

These are their stories.

Hey, guys.
It's your girl T-Frank here,

coming at you with some truth
and frankfulness as usual.

Namely, have you a bigger,

more fire piece of ice
in your life?

Yeah, any bigger and it would
break her finger.

I have my girls
with me tonight.

Heading to town!

And it is gonna be lit.

More champagne!
Let's open another bottle.

Hey, driver! Oh, my God.

What is this?
Can you turn it down, please?

No! What? Turn it up!

I wanna have some fun tonight
before I'm tied down forever.

Cheers!

Okay, Verena.
It's getting late.

Let's get you in bed.
- Ow!

- What was that?
- No, Ivy.

Did I hurt you?

It's alright, dear.
Let's do that again.

It's nothing. I--

I... I fell.

I was trying to go upstairs

and get my needle point.

Verena,

you need to be in a bungalow

or an apartment
with an elevator.

I've lived here for 40 years.
I'm not about to move now.

My son promised to put in
a stairlift, but...

he's been so busy.

Here we go.

I'm getting so sick of this.

When you don't answer me,

I have no idea
if you're alright.

Cole.

Baby, it was my bachelorette.

I wasn't checking my phone.
- Oh.

You weren't on your phone?

No, what? Turn it up!

I wanna have
some fun tonight

before I'm tied down forever.

No, you've had enough fun
for the night.

Now I would've thought you got
it out of your system

seeing as you slept with half
the men in the city.

- But why stop at half?
- You're disgusting.

My mom was right.

You don't deserve a ring.
You're trash.

Stop, Cole. Stop it!

Let go of me!

I'm done.

Bronson.

I said, "I'm done."

Thank you, I appreciate it.

Do you wanna talk about it
at all?

Talk about what?

About this latest track
you're mixing

or how the new digital stuff
just can't compete

with the tactile feel
of a reel-to-reel?

I'm going to Aline's.

She needs help with the baby
so I'm gonna stay the night.

You'll walk the dog, right?

I would take her with me,
but, you know, my sister...

Yeah, of course.

You don't have to leave tonight.
It's your house, too.

Hey! Can I help you?

Bella, shh,
quit it with the barking.

The death of a great artist.
What a shame.

I didn't take you
as a Bronson fan.

Well, his earlier stuff
is fantastic

before he became
a big-time producer.

Hey. What'd you get
from the cameras?

Nothing, Detective Bateman.
It cut out at 11:40.

Anything from neighbouring
security?

Our team's already canvassed
the entire street. No hits.

It's probably 'cause
the killer came in

through the park.
That way they only have

to deal with Bronson's camera.

Rather than one of the most
surveilled streets

in the country.

First few blows would have
caused this cast-off.

Then he went down here,

judging by the blood pooled
around his head.

Ah, but with multiple
blows like this,

you'd expect to see a lot
more blood,

which means our victim was dead

before the killer
stopped swinging.

When his heart stopped,
so did the bleeding.

What is it?

Burns maybe.

This wasn't your average
run-of-the-mill anger.

No, this was
a power-assertive killer

in an uncontrollable rage.
This was a red-out.

Killer saw red and...

got lost.

Whoever did this
found it to be c...

Hey.

You okay, partner?

25 years.

Once in a while,
a case comes along

that just gives you the chills.

Bronson, real name,
Kevin Jones,

died of blunt force trauma.

The initial blow
to the occipital bone

did the job, but these
multiples to the parietal,

temporal, and lacrimal
removed all doubt.

- How about the ears?
- Cigarette burns.

Scapha, fossa
and deeper, all the way down

to the tympanic membrane.

Jesus, he tortured him.

Used his ears as an ash tray.

Actually, Inspector,
judging by the non-reactive

yellow discolouration
around the wounds,

the burns were post-mortem.

The killer's anger
didn't extinguish

after Bronson was dead.

This isn't torture.

Killer was sending a message.

Yeah, what kind of message?

Bronson's ears meant
everything to him.

As important as tastebuds
to a chef.

Anything else, Lucy?

Uh, traces of dog hair.

Specs of pink glitter
near the neck.

And guy was a teeth grinder.

Two of his molars were cracked.

- Is that stress?
- It's usually the cause.

Let's talk to the wife.

Um, I was staying
at my sister's house.

She just had a baby.
Eva's not latching.

Aline's going insane.

So last night,
5 P.M., you left,

you went straight
to your sisters?

Yes. I was there all night.

We're having it confirmed
right now by the same officers

who went through your husband's
paperwork and phone.

His last text was to a lawyer.
Any idea why?

Bronson has his lawyers
on speed dial.

They look over all of his deals.

But this was a family lawyer.

How are you enjoying
My brilliant Friend?

I'm up to three
in the Neapolitan novels.

I'm not gonna spoil anything.
Don't worry.

We searched your house.
I saw it on the bedside table

in the guest room.

Separate bedrooms.

A two-word text
to a family lawyer.

She signed.

I'm thinking that spells
divorce.

Yeah, we know how it is.

You know, why settle
for spousal

when you can inherit the lot?

What's that called again,
Bateman?

Motive.

See, we found these
in Bronson's office.

In his recycling bin

to be exact.

You know what's funny?
Even when the people are lying

about something as big as this,

they can't help but recycle.

So, I'm guessing you ripped up
your divorce papers today

when you went back in to pack.

Hmm?

I didn't wanna get a divorce.

I loved my husband.

But he was married to his work.

He had been for years.

So we finally decided
to split amicably.

What's all this?

Uh, lyrics.

Submission letters for random
people and major players

all begging Bronson to work
with them to make them a star.

And that's just from last week.

He was trying to produce music,
but honestly,

he spent most of his time
saying no to people.

If you're asking who you should
be looking into for this,

that's easy.

Everyone he's ever said no to.

I'm just thinking of all
the people Bronson rejected.

There's an entire world
on the outside

dreaming about getting a peek
at some imaginary inner circle.

No, Bronson wanted
to be a kingmaker,

but he ended up as a gatekeeper.

Two sides of the same coin.

Kingmakers bring good news
to the lucky few,

plucked them from obscurity.
Whereas gatekeepers--

Yeah, they spend their days
saying no to the masses.

Hmm. Whover killed Bronson
really had something to say.

That... power-aggressive move,
the burns in the ears,

the defilement of the body
after death.

What?

What are you thinking?

That influencer who was
strangled in her loft last week,

Tara Franklin.
- Yeah.

Her ring finger was cut off
with scissors.

- Hmm.
- Now, maybe body defilement

is going around, but...

It's interesting.

Same rage, same power assertion,

same... red-out.

Okay, but totally different
victim profiles.

Different causes of death,
different MOs.

As far as we know,
Tara wasn't saying no to anyone.

Beautiful women like Tara

say no to somebody
every day of the week.

They're gatekeepers just by
being young,

desired, and alive.

"Before being able to enter
a strange land,

a hero is likely to encounter
an opponent

in the form of
a Threshold Guardian..."

Wow. Archetypes?

You're basing your theories
on The Hero's Journey now.

Well, Classics 301.
Thank you very much.

And far better theories
have come from worse places.

Hmm.

We're closed.

What is wrong with people?

Did you lock up early
or something?

No, maybe 30 seconds.

Hey, coming for drinks?

We're just going around
the corner.

This is all the evidence
in the Tara Franklin case.

So you guys seriously think

this is connected
to the Bronson case?

I'm not sure,
but it's possible.

Both bodies were defiled
in a similar manner.

Both victims were killed
in an absolute fury.

Both were well known,
and they were gatekeepers.

What's that even mean?

It's a theory based
on an archetype.

A riddle wrapped in an enigma.

Okay, well, look,

I'm happy to hand
this off to you.

I was liking the fiancé for it,

but it turns out he's got
a solid alibi.

And whoever did do it was nice
enough to leave no trace,

no evidence whatsoever, so...

Well, let me guess.

The security cameras
were disabled?

Yeah.

And this is everything
from the night?

Yeah, tagged from
top to bottom.

Except for the engagement ring,
which went missing.

Put out a search,
but still no hits.

We think that maybe
the killer kept it

or sold it under
the table for cash.

Wait.

Glitter.

Yeah, that makes sense.

She was at her bachelorette
party the night she was killed.

I don't know.
Our victim, Bronson,

he was found with purple glitter
on his neck.

One point is just a dot.

But two points is a line.

Will, who's the last person
to see Tara before she got home?

I was hired for the night.

Ms. Franklin had a very
packed itinerary.

I took them to three
different clubs.

And I waited outside of my limo

until they were ready
to move on.

Did the women have any
decorations with them?

Streamers, tiaras, glitter?

Oh, yeah. For sure.

No, they had it...
they had it all.

That night, did you hear
mention of a guy named Bronson?

- Is that her fiancé?
- No, different guy.

Hmm. No. Sorry.

But I couldn't hear them
very well. The music was loud.

You dropped her off at, um,

2 A.M.?

Yeah, she was my last stop.

And when we pulled up
to her place, she, um...

She froze.

She wouldn't get out of the car.
- Why is that?

She saw her fiancé
in the window.

And he was awake inside.
The blinds were open,

and she told me to keep driving.

Where did you go?

Nowhere. We drove around
the block a few times.

I offered to drive her
to one of her friend's place,

but...

I don't know, maybe I should
have done something more,

but I was just so tired,
I wanted to get home.

I did wait until she got inside
to make sure she was okay,

but the second she stepped
into her apartment,

her fiancé closed the blinds.

What a mess.

They finally let me back in,

this is how
they leave the place.

It's disgusting.
My fiancé gets killed,

and I've got to clean it up.

There are services you
can hire to help with this.

Here. Give these guys a call.

They're excellent.
- Thank you.

You shove that card up your ass.

You guys are all morons.
Every single one of you.

Cole, we just came here
to talk, alright?

We have a few more questions.

I already told the other guy
everything.

Over and over.
Your questions,

they make me wanna rip
my ears off.

Well, these are new questions.

You ever hiked
in the bridal path?

No, I don't hike.

- You smoke?
- Uh, sometimes socially, why?

Tell me where you were
two nights ago.

Uh... I, uh,

they let me back in here.

I was here, I was grieving.

Grieving by way of pizza
and cocaine?

You wanna tell me
how to grieve now?

Okay, I'll tell you what.

I'll kill your goddam fiancé,

let's see how you spend
the night.

You a fan of Bronson at all?

You interested in hip-hop?

My fiancé gets murdered,
you wanna talk about music.

Sure, let's debate who
the GOAT is. Biggie or Tupac?!

Okay, listen, Cole,

I think it's time we call
somebody, okay?

Somebody to come be with you.
- Go to hell!

Well, that's assaulting
an officer,

so you're gonna be
coming with us.

- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm okay.

But I don't think this guy is.

- I'm sorry about your shoulder.
- Don't mention it.

You were quite
in the state today.

Assaulting my partner,

threatening to kill her
imaginary fiancé,

rip off your own ears.

Seems like you might have been
in the same state

the night that Tara
was murdered.

See, we have a witness
who saw

you two fighting that night.

She hadn't checked in
for six hours.

I had no idea where she was
or if she was okay.

Yeah, we argued.

But then after
20 minutes, I left.

You went to stay with
your parents, yeah?

Because parents never lie
for their children.

So putting last week's
stellar alibi

to the side for a moment,

where were you at the time
of Bronson's murder?

Tuesday night.
- I already told you.

I was home.

I don't know this guy.
We've never met.

What about Tara?
She know him?

No.

I don't even think she ever
listened to his music.

Cole, how did you meet Tara?

At a mixer with influencers.

I run a real estate brokerage.

- You work for your dad.
- With.

Not for.

Must have been hard climbing
that gilded corporate ladder.

What do you want from me?

Actually, nothing.

We're done here.

So let me get this straight,

you don't believe
that Cole Miller

murdered either Bronson or Tara?

Oh, more a fact than a belief.

Right, and you're basing this
on some vibe

you got from the suspect?

Not so much the vibe,

but Mr. Miller's
psychological profile.

Look, Cole is the most entitled
person I've ever met.

Beyond privileged.
- How does this stop him

from being our killer?

Well, he can't resent
gatekeepers,

because every door
has been opened for him

with kid's gloves.
- So we're just gonna disregard

the mountain of witnesses

who say Cole Miller
has anger issues?

Well, his temper is real.

It's just based on the most

pathetically low self-esteem
you can imagine.

He knows he is who he is

because everything's
been handed to him

on a silver platter.

He's not the type of guy
who's gonna cut somebody's

fingers off with a pair
of scissors

or bludgeon a producer
over a rejection letter.

His psychology does not
match our killer.

Our killer defiles his victims

in order to assert
power over them.

Why storm the castle

when you're sitting
on the throne?

That's one hell
of a fancy argument.

But until you can confirm
his alibi

or find concrete evidence

that there is no way Cole Miller

could have murdered
Tara Franklin,

I suggest that you take
another run at him.

Boss, I promise you,
our killer's still out there.

And the longer we spent on Cole,

the more time our killer
has to stalk his next victim.

Yeah, we might already
be too late.

I just got off the phone
with 38th division,

they found another body.

Victim also showed signs
of post-mortem defiling.

Alishia Marriot, 34 years old.
Teller at First Canada Bank.

Her landlord found her here
two hours ago.

The killer lodged a crumpled
20 dollar bill in her mouth.

Multiple stab wounds

to the chest and stomach.
Horrible way to die.

Killer wanted her to suffer.

It reflects better
with the light.

It's purple glitter.

Two points make a line...

And three points make a trend.

Bateman, we have
an active killer.

Any update on the glitter
found on Alisha?

Yeah, forensics just confirmed

that there was a match
for the other two victims.

But how does Alisha Mariott,
a working-class bank teller,

fit into your theory

of all three victims
being gatekeepers?

So last night, Alisha gave
a statement to two officers

regarding an incident
that took place at her work.

First Canada Bank.

They just sent over the tape.

This is from 5:01 P.M.

Any angles of our assailant?

Nope. But this is from
two minutes prior.

That's Alisha walking up.

Alisha was literally
a sentinel at that bank.

When she locked the doors
on our guy one minute early,

he found himself in the position
he hated most,

on the outside looking in.

Okay, I'm in.

Yeah, it holds water.

Uh, gatekeepers, glitter,

psychopath, and a frenzy phase.

But now here comes
the hard part.

What's that?

Finding out how each
of our random victims

connect to our killer.

Oh, that's alright.
I never use my desk anyway.

Sorry, I started over there,
and I just expanded.

Expanded what exactly?

Connections.

The game.
I've played every morning.

You've never heard of it?
- Uh, no, because I have a kid.

It's an association game.

You take seemingly disparate
words and thoughts

and try to make a connection.

I do it when I hit a dead-end.
No wrong answers.

Okay, so, "Ronces Valles,"
"Bridle Path," "Queen West."

The neighbourhoods
where our victims lived?

Exactly.

Okay, so, "Fettuccini,"

"Microwave dinner,"

"Porterhouse"?
- The victims' last meals.

What? I said no bad ideas.
What have you got?

I've been going over
the entire Cole Miller file.

Despite being terrible,
abusive, and entitled,

he can't be our killer.
Not if these cases

are indeed connected.
- They are.

Okay, but we know
he didn't kill Bronson,

he didn't kill Alisha,
and yet, he's still

the most obvious suspect
in Tara's death.

How?
- You saying somebody's lying?

Well, they got to be.

Who?

Why do you have two cards
for hip-hop?

Shouldn't there just be
one for Bronson?

The second is for Tara's
bachelorette.

Here.

Look, this is a post
she put up at that night.

Hey, driver! What is this?

Can you turn it down, please?

No! What? Turn it up!

No, please don't.

You hear that?

Okay.

So...

"Glitter," "Ring,"

"Limo, "Hip-hop."

The night of her bachelorette,

Tara set off a glitter cannon
inside a limo

blaring hip-hop.

I see only one connection
between those four cards

and our case against Cole.

Calvin Follows.
The limo driver.

They key witness
who incriminated Cole.

He was lying to us
and we missed it.

Told everyone the boogeyman
was hiding in the closet.

No one looked under the bed.

I'm sorry I was late.

Oh, Calvin.
It was nothing.

I love old movies.

Can I talk to you for a moment?

Mm-hmm.

Verena, I'll see you tomorrow.

I noticed a few new bruises
on your mother lately.

I keep telling her to wait
for me to walk up the stairs.

I know, but until
the chairlift comes,

keep an eye out.

Of course.
Yeah, no, thank you

for letting me know.

Why did you tell Ivy
about the bruises?

I-I didn't tell her.
I promise.

She found them.

You know, it's funny,

I look after you,

or I pay Ivy to look after you
while I'm working.

Working to earn money

to pay Ivy to look after you.

C-Calvin, listen to me.

I made a mistake.
I'm sorry. I tried-- Ahh!

Dad is gone, alright?!

I'm all you have left.

If I'm gone, there's no one.

Look at me. Look at me.

What? You think Ivy's gonna
come here and look after you

out of what?
The goodness of her heart?

I made a mistake! I'm sorry!

You wanna see what life
is like without me?

You're gonna sit here.

Ahh!

...and enjoy.

So here it is.
Limo driver, Calvin Follows

matches the psychopathological
profile of our killer to a T.

He's a loner,
he's got no friends,

no links to any community.

He worked for his father,
but when his dad died,

he was unable to hold down a job
for more than two months.

We spoke to his former
employers, his teachers

and, according to them,
he's exhibited anti-social

behaviour his entire life.

Just because someone's quirky,
doesn't make them a killer.

Jesus.

What are the facts?

Any connecting DNA
found on the bodies?

- No.
- No prints found on the money

found in Alisha's mouth.

And no prints found at her work.

No cigarette butts
near Bronson's body.

- Nothing.
- None of the victims

knew each other,
resembled each other,

or were killed in the same way.

We don't even know that these
murders are connected.

You want a search warrant,

give me something
that I can use.

Here. Purple violet.

Ultra fine. Hexagon,
laser-cut, point 008.

Microplastic,

it's almost impossible
to get rid of.

Now he's been accidentally

leaving that
at every crime scene.

Now, Theo, if you can get me
that search warrant

for his house and limo,
I'll guarantee

that I'll find traces
of that exact glitter

that was found on Bronson,
Tara, and Alisha's bodies.

I respect your instinct.

But I cannot jeopardize
this whole investigation

with a warrant
that will not hold up in court.

What about their lives?

Does that not mean
anything to you?

Henry,

I will talk
to Inspector Holness.

Suggest she put a SPIN team
on Follows.

Make sure he's not
a threat to the public.

Give you a bit more time
to find that glitter.

And when you get that evidence,

I'll be ready.

The driver seemed fine.

A little off, maybe.

"Off" how?

I-I don't know. He was...

intense but trying
really hard to be chill.

Tara obviously didn't think so.

She was flirting with him
the entire night.

She set off this bright purple
glitter cannon in his limo.

He pretended to get mad at her,
it was like a whole thing.

Any chance they went
home together?

Zero. No.
She was just messing with him.

This guy was a loser.

Like, he was bragging about
the celebrities he drove,

and...

He wouldn't even play
real music for us.

What do you mean "real music"?

He was a wannabe rapper.

He kept playing his stupid music
the whole night.

I tried to get him to change it,

Tara kept joking about
how good it was.

Singing the hooks.

I don't even think he realized
she was making fun of him.

I think maybe he did.

Mom, I'm busy. Where is Ivy?

What do you mean
she just left you?

Hey. Would you consider
selling it?

No, it's a piece of junk.

Mom, I got to go.

It's a pretty nice
piece of junk.

Heck, even if you strung it
for parts.

I said it's a piece of junk.

Crush it.

Ivy, did Calvin ever
threaten you at all?

No. Never.

Calvin hired me two years ago.

Right after Verena's husband
passed away.

Calvin was not able to take
care of his mother on his own.

I'm sorry, this was a mistake.

- Please.
- Ivy, wait. Ivy...

If Calvin is who we think he is,
you could be in real danger.

Everything's fine.

I'm sorry, I have to go now.
- No, please, just one question.

These dates and these times,

was Calvin ever home
during those intervals?

Are you sure?

I only work
when he's not at home.

I work all three
of those nights.

Bateman already showed
Bronson's widow

a photo of Calvin.
She didn't recognize him.

I mean, sure it's possible
he reached out to Bronson,

but it's highly unlikely.
- No, it's certain.

Right, I went through every
letter in Bronson's recycling.

"Hey, Bronson, check out
my beats." Et cetera, et cetera.

There are hundreds
of these letters.

This one,

this one is signed
with a pseudonym,

yet the handwriting
is an exact match

as Calvin's witness statement
on Tara's murder.

He's even...

written his phone number
at the bottom of the letter.

I checked it, it's him.

Bronson rejected Calvin's music.
We have it in writing.

Interesting,
but circumstantial.

Okay, but we also have
a record that Calvin Follows

has an account
at First Canada Bank.

The same bank
that Alisha worked at.

Along with one out of every
six Canadians.

Alright, what about
Ivy's statement

that Calvin was never home
during each of the murders?

Trust me. I wouldn't have come
down here if it wasn't for her.

Her statement is holding
your case together by a thread.

But...
- Yeah, Calvin not being home

doesn't place him at any
of the crime scenes.

Did my job for me.

However, I understand
the imminent danger

Calvin Follows presents
to the community.

And that the best time
to catch an active killer

is in a frenzy stage.

Preferably before
they kill again.

So?

I'm gonna go out on a limb.

So, I'll call Judge Romanek now.

I'll get you a warrant.

Good man.

Let's hope you find the same
glitter from all three victims

in Calvin's limo or his house.

Looks official. Here.
Sorry, her soup's getting cold.

I'm spread a bit thin today.

My mom's PSW called in sick.

It's strange.
She seemed fine yesterday.

Something must be going around.

Start upstairs.

Copy that.

My room's the third door
on the left.

Detectives.

I don't know what to tell you.

Matching the glitter
will take years.

Even if we find a match,

Calvin can say he purchased it
after the murders.

Which would be impossible
to disprove.

You wanna hide the needle,

bring in a haystack.

Calvin.

I-I can do that for myself.

I know, Mom,
but why would you need to

when I'm here?

Are you done?
- No, we're not done.

Okay, well, I'm starting
to feel a little...

What's the word? Harassed.

Well, the warrant's
still good.

Yeah, for another six minutes.

Unless I read it wrong.

Calvin, what can you tell us
about the glitter in your room?

- What about it?
- Why is it there?

Well, I'm a limo driver.

As you know.
Lots of parties, celebrations.

I like to keep a few plastic
glasses, streamers,

party hats, glitter cannons
in the trunk.

Just in case.

Still doesn't explain

why there's a mountain
of glitter in your room.

Oh, I try them out sometimes.
See which ones work best.

The best preparation
for tomorrow is...

doing your best today.

Yeah, well,
speaking of your limo,

we just found out
you had it destroyed.

And already put through
the compacter.

Oh, yeah. It broke down.

Again.

So I decided to stop
throwing good money after bad.

And I'm looking into
getting a new one.

Prepare the umbrella
before it rains.

Well...

it's been real.

My mother and I have some things
to attend to.

So unless there's
anything else...

Mother.

We still have five minutes.

Mom, don't worry.

Cheer up.

It's all gonna be great.

Alright, come on,
think, think, think, think.

Type-O electrical adapter.

Exclusive to Thailand.

He's fleeing town.

With his mother.

He's fleeing the country.

So you're going to Thailand.

Yes. We are.

Mom's very excited about it.

Aren't you, Mom?

Go on. Why don't you
tell them why?

My husband and I wanted
to go to Thailand

for our 40th anniversary.

Planned it for years.

He died two years ago.

And Calvin is taking me now.

- Now as in--
- As in tonight.

It does seem a little quick.

Well, why wait?

Mom's not getting any younger.

Just because Dad's not
around anymore to take her,

doesn't mean she should suffer.

- When are you coming back?
- Three weeks.

It's enough time to lie
on the beach, see the sights.

Mom's always wanted
to swim in Maya Bay.

I really want to make
that happen for her.

Quite the extravagant trip.

Yeah, well, what's it all for
if not to enjoy ourselves?

Hmm? Work hard, play hard.

I work very hard.

Verena, can we have
a private word, please?

- Uh...
- Looks like your time is up.

I think we're done here.

Calvin.

Don't do this.

Do what?

He knew.

He knew we were coming for him.

Glitter all over his room,

the limo crushed to oblivion.

So we got nothing
from this warrant?

Yeah, we learned
he's flying his mother

first-class to Bangkok.

Just got off the phone
with Pearson,

they leave at 6:25 tonight.

- Are you serious?
- He's allowed to leave.

We got nothing real
on that psycho.

Right now, he can do
whatever he wants.

If we don't get him today,

we'll get him
when he comes back.

He's not coming back.

He's moving to a new
hunting ground.

He's gonna wheel his own
mother off that plane

and toss her body into
a dumpster at the airport.

And then he's moving on.

Calvin Follows is gonna keep
killing over and over again.

Any girl that turns him down,

any cab driver
that rips him off,

any person who gets up
in his face.

We can alert the Thai police.
Give them a heads up.

Oh, come on, Theo.

He gets on that plane,
and he's gone.

Henry,

are you sure it's him?

I am.

Frankie?

100 percent.

Then we have four hours
to figure this out.

Comb through his online
shopping history.

Calvin bought a camera jammer
last month.

- Good, helpful, not enough.
- Verena's social media.

She hasn't posted in years.
Not much there, but okay,

take a look at this picture
of Calvin and his dad.

I mean, what happened
to this happy kid?

Hmm. Father never made it
to his 40th anniversary.

You got Calvin's employment
history there.

He bounced around job to job,
no real direction.

Yeah, bounced around
after his father died.

After his father died,

now why wouldn't he just stay
working at the garage?

Follows and Sons, you'd think
he would've inherited the place.

Have we searched the title
for his father's business?

I got it here.
Father sold it to a Norman Wong

in August 22nd, 2021.

Was that before or after
his father died?

It was before.

Weeks before.

How did the dad die?

Got his death
certificate here.

Apparently, he fell down
the stairs at his garage.

He broke his neck.

It's nice to be driven
for a change.

I bet it is.

This is very exciting.

Calvin,

how did you manage to get
everything into one bag?

Mom.

Please, stop worrying so much.

We're starting fresh.

I'm gonna buy you everything new
once we get there.

Oh.

- Tickets?
- We're not going anywhere.

I'm sorry, sir, you need
to present your tickets.

Up to the lounge.

Why did that bring me
so much pleasure?

Because Calvin wasn't wrong,
gatekeepers are the worst.

Mr. Follows.

Verena.

I guess they let anyone
in here now.

Funny, first time in a club,

and you're already shutting
the door behind ya.

- I worked hard to be here.
- Sure you did.

We just need to tick a few
boxes before you leave.

Well, no warrant,
no conversation.

No, it's fine, we're not
here to talk to you.

Would you be okay if we asked
you a few questions?

Feel free to speak, Verena.

Unless your son
is so controlling

that he forbids you to talk.

Verena,

your husband, Paul,

he died two years ago?

Fell down the stairs
at his garage.

- Yeah.
- Just after he told your son

that he'd sold the business.

Uh...

Paul always took those stairs
too fast.

Calvin was gonna
put in a railing.

He wanted his father to be safe.

But your husband wasn't safe.

He fell.

He broke his neck.

We just learned of this today.
- Are we done here?

I'm about to take my mother
on a trip of a lifetime,

I won't endure any more
of this harassment.

Follows and Sons,
now that's a nice, solid name.

It has a ring to it.

Also carries the inherent
promise of a succession plan.

When Follows is gone,
the son will take over.

Yeah, your father,
he gave you his name

and he was gonna
give you his business.

Except, for some reason,

he didn't.

So Dad decides to sell
the business

with your name on it

to a Mr. Norman Wong

who vows to continue
your father's legacy,

that is up until two months ago,

when he levels the garage
to make way for a parking lot.

Your birthright
is literally demolished.

My father wasn't right
in the head.

He wasn't thinking straight.
Right, Mom?

You know what, Mom? Let's go.

Well, right in the head
or not,

it was what your father wanted.

It wasn't Norman's fault.

Norman didn't force your father

to sell him the garage
out from under you.

No, that was all
your father's doing.

Because he was
the ultimate gatekeeper

of the family business.

And he locked you out of it.

Now a rejection like that
isn't just a "no."

It's an implicit judgment
that you are not worthy,

not smart enough,
not kind enough.

Not attractive enough.

Is that what Tara said?

When she rejected your advances?

That must have hurt.

Almost as much
as when Bronson told you

you're not talented enough.

Or the bank teller when she had
a message for you.

You weren't even worth her time.

At least those
were all strangers.

Because with strangers,
it's easier to convince yourself

that they don't know you.

Who are they to judge you?

But your own father,

the man who made you,
who raised you,

who knew down to your very core.

And he tells you that
you're not worthy?

That you're not good enough
to use the family name.

What did he tell you at the top
of the stairs, Calvin?

When he was so flushed
with shame.

Did he tell you...

that he wished
you'd never been born?

Maybe he was right.
He knew best after all.

Graff!

My father didn't
know anything.

- I hope you told him that.
- I did.

And I hope you made it
so he never said that again.

I did.

Screw him. I hope
you broke his neck.

I did.

I snapped it like a twig.

Yeah.

Get him out of here.

Where are you
taking him?

You alright?

Oh, my God.

Verena,

my associate here
is gonna check you out.

Make sure you're okay.

We've already called Ivy,
she's coming to pick you up.

Thank you, thank you.

You okay?

I don't know
what's wrong with me,

I almost feel bad for the guy.

Why do you feel bad?

He hasn't thought it
all the way through.

Where he's going,

there's only gatekeepers.

difuze