All language subtitles for The Kings of Tupelo_ A Southern Crime Saga - 01x02 - Episode 2.NF-EDITH+FLUX+Kitsune.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

This was the largest nightclub,
beer joint, speakeasy

called the Western Connection.

But many of the locals
called it the Western Infection,

and a few lucky people
called it the Western Erection.

And Mom just almost died
when I suggested that we buy

this devil's project
and convert it to the Lord's work.

Well, this is, uh,
where the queen bee sat.

Oh God, I miss her so much.

We were such a dynamite team.

I'm a good mama's boy.

I'll always be a good mama's boy
when I'm kicked into the oven.

Came and got the removal van,
and I embalmed my own mother.

I didn't want anybody else to do it.

This is where we prepare the bodies
for burial.

I am a freaking unbelievable embalmer.

And you insert this into the body.

Well, this is my Elvis wall
in the funeral home.

Holland Funeral Directors. Steve Holland.

Yes, where do you hold the services?

We can have it here, at a church.
We can have it at a bar, a whorehouse.

It don't matter where you wanna have it.
Just make sure your undertaker's invited.

I put the fun in funeral.

That was the "Tennessee Waltz."

I'm claustrophobic,

so that's the first reason
I've never liked caskets.

And beyond that, they go in the ground.

Try disinterring one of these
that's been in there ten years.

You'll change your mind
about spending $3,000 for one then.

Oh, we've got a body?

Got three.

Three?

We better get out of here.

Oh, don't open that up.

Oh, it's Gladys.

I know she had the diabetes.

When I was a child,
I had a book, Connect the Dots.

This was my only game that I had.

I was the master of connecting the dots.

Connect the dots.

And it was my groundbreaking research
and my House Bill Resolution

that I tried to push through Congress
that led me to Steve Holland.

When I read Kevin's House Bill,

first thing that I thought,

"Another fool lives in my district."

He's just freaking totally insane.

I mean, he's in outer space.

My House Bill Resolution,

he never even looked at it.
He never even acknowledged he received it.

This man refuses to acknowledge
my existence.

Mr. Speaker,
ladies and gentlemen of the House,

House Bill 6331 is breathtakingly stupid.

This bill is garbage. It's trash.

I wrote letters.
I faxed. I emailed.

I sent smoke signals in an Indian fire.

But it is safe to say
that if Mr. Curtis's brain were for sale,

it would be worthless.

He will not call me back.

He will not email me.

Now, I-I'm just wondering why.

Why? I'll tell you why.

I established the first program ever

for organ donation
in the state of Mississippi.

It's just one of the greatest things
I did.

1988, I created body donations,

organ donations,

transplants in this state.

Oh my God, it saved
so many people's lives. It's unbelievable.

Be an organ donor.

Life is great. Pass it on.

It's time someone stood up
for all our kids.

So why would the author
of an outstanding program

introduce a bill to kill it?

Don't make sense.

Like he don't make sense.

Now it's all making sense.

Think about it.

Steve Holland, state representative,

funeral home director,

organ harvesting,

bodies.

Ding, ding! Light bulb moment.

Kevin started
these conspiracy theories

that the medical center and myself
have been selling body parts.

And I just almost choke
on my own laughter of such silliness,

you know?

Uh, but, no,
Holland don't sell body parts.

Holland's never sold a body part.

I think
Steve Holland fears what I know.

And he's afraid I can bury him.

I'm not scared of anything
or anybody.

I mean, when I see a beast,
it needs to be slayed.

It needs to be at least dissected.

"2003. A mysterious cabal
of Washington, D.C. elites

hire KC to perform
at an exclusive wedding party."

"He dons the armor of the King once more."

My wife and I
sponsored an engagement party

for a young couple
that we had known for a long time.

And we thought an Elvis impersonator
would be good entertainment.

I remember
driving down a long dirt road

and entering a beautiful gated community,

three-story mansion.

And all the politicians are there.

And, um, that's when we met Kevin Curtis.

He did the old, uh,

pelvis steps.

♪ Are you lonesome tonight? ♪

And sang
a bunch of Elvis songs.

The ladies loved it.

After the show,

the senator walked up to me and,
with a twinkle in his eye, says,

"Hey, Elvis,

got some websites out there
that's pretty, uh, disturbing."

"You know, I'm kind of surprised
I hadn't found you floating

at the bottom of the Mississippi River
with cement boots on. Be careful."

But then I realized
sometime later

that this was gonna be a bigger deal
than I thought.

I can
read between the lines, okay?

And Wicker was letting me know,

"I know about your campaign
fighting for justice."

And that gave me so much hope.

This is my once-in-a-lifetime opportunity

to finally get
my House Bill Resolution passed.

So I overnighted that puppy to Wicker.

Kevin had
this body parts scandal

and this House Bill.

What do you remember of that?

Well, uh, I... Now that you mention it,
I was aware of that,

but, uh, not until afterwards. Yeah.

And was this a little unusual?

I'll let you make a judgment there.

When I never heard back from Wicker,
I'd reached out to a local politician,

J. Everett Dutschke.

He was connected to Roger Wicker,

Mike Huckabee, and multiple politicians.

I'm advocating a return to common sense.

I'm J. Everett Dutschke,
and I approve this message.

Dutschke published
his own political newspaper.

And when I started pouring out
about the organ harvesting,

his eyes got kind of wild-looking.

But, at this point,
I have no idea he works for my brother.

No clue that he even knows my brother.

Dutschke had promised Kevin

he would publish Kevin's story,

and for whatever reason,

Dutschke reneged on the promise.

After months of emails,

Wicker finally replied.

Found it.

Dude, not by email.

I'm talking about hard copy letter.

In the first line, Wicker said,

"I think you did a great job.
It's very impressive."

Holy shit, man. It was an amazing feeling.

And then, when I got to the end,

the last line read,

"Unfortunately, I am not the person
to sponsor the legislation."

"However, State Representative
Steve Holland is."

You've got to be kidding me.

Is this a fucking joke?

There's something not right in this.

Connect the dots.

And then, late one night, the phone rings.

A mysterious voice says,

"Mr. Curtis, it's gonna be a shame
if something happens

to one of them children of yours

'cause you can't shut your fucking mouth
about body parts."

♪ Each step is moving ♪

♪ It's moving me up... ♪

Most of America wouldn't understand
the way things go deep in the South.

♪ Every step is moving me up... ♪

This place is fucking cursed.

Poverty, it's everywhere in Mississippi.

It's all around you.

And there's no escape.

♪ Ah-ah, moving me up ♪

So we need heroes.

♪ Moving ♪

♪ Moving me up ♪

♪ Every step is moving me up ♪

My dad likes
being the hero of stories.

'Cause then
he wouldn't have to be Kevin Curtis.

Which I don't think he liked very much.

♪ One tiny, tiny ♪

♪ Tiny move... ♪

The truth is,
he was the villain of his own damn movie.

Of his own hero film.

So, can you tell me
what your dad was like growing up?

My dad made me hate two things growing up.

Alcohol and computers.

Once the Internet existed,

he just closed himself off into this room
on the computer from the time he woke up,

from the time he went to bed.

My earliest memory is
Kevin just sleep the whole day.

Stay up all night long on the computer.

And it's like
he stepped into a portal to hell

filled with secret conspiracies.

If it was anything
with a conspiracy involved,

he was the guy on it.

First, there was body parts,

and then chemtrails.

There was 9/11.

That was the next conspiracy
that we heard about in our home.

All day, every day.

It was just conspiracy after conspiracy.

We lost the ability
to connect with our dad.

He was there. He was physically there.

But mentally, man, no,
he was, uh... he was somewhere else.

Where were you?

I felt like a lot of this stuff
he just could not deal with.

I mean, look, he lost his job.

His marriage went downhill.

His relationship with his family,
entire family, not only his kids,

went downhill.

Honestly, I saw a man
who was tortured mentally.

And, um, I-I just always felt bad for him.

Felt really bad.

"Act two, scene two."

"Despite the deadly ultimatum
threatening the lives

of those he loves most,

KC charges forward,

wielding his sword of justice
deeper into the shadowy depths

of Tupelo's body parts empire."

"As he expected,

the empire would strike back."

Right after my children were threatened,

weird things started happening
in the night.

Strangers that I had never noticed before

are following me now.

Right in front of my window.

What... What is that?

Kevin was getting more paranoid
that he was being targeted

by some type of conspiracy.

But his perception sometimes
of what he sees,

it's always bigger than what you or I
would think it should be.

Here he is again.
Fourth time tonight in three hours.

Out of nowhere,
my brake light's knocked out.

Flat tires, mysteriously, in the night.

My car getting keyed,
my lights getting busted out,

my tire getting slashed.

A week later,
there's bullets in the mailbox.

There's just...
There's an underlying threat.

Kevin did not have
a big grip on reality.

Listen, I don't wanna call him
a pathological liar,

but he takes a true story
that's wild and crazy,

and he adds to it.

What is that?

What the fuck?

Darts out from behind my house.

I will find out who is harassing me.

One day, Laura gets in the car
with all my kids. She turns the key.

Boom! Something blows up under the hood.
The hood buckles up and flies backwards.

Everything in the car burns.

And I'm supposed to buy,
"Faulty battery, I'm sure," by the police.

My neighbor called, said,
"Your house is burning down."

And I'm like, "What?"

Unfortunately,
the house did burn down.

The reason for the house
burning down was what?

Chicken.

Chicken being left on the stove.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

That is true.

But the car?

The car, I don't know. I mean, I-I...

There was no chicken on the car,
you know?

You gotta understand something.

Mississippi is the most crooked place
you'll ever be in your life.

These high-up officials,

there's a lot of stuff
that they don't want known.

So cops and lawyers and judges,

they all hate Kevin
because of what Kevin knows.

This shadowy organization
clearly didn't understand.

If you beat me down, I just get stronger.

And I go at you harder.

I became obsessed
with exposing mass corruption in Tupelo

and the connections with illegal
black market organ harvesting.

I did street team activism.

Walking down the streets,
knocking on doors.

"Hello. Do you know anything about
corruption in Mississippi?"

I'm doing everything in my power
to get the word out there

about this conspiracy that's going on.

I had an assistant district attorney,

he grabbed a 9mm Beretta,

and he put it to my head
with a smile on his face.

And he put his left hand up like this,

and he had every intention
to blow my head off,

and right at that moment...

Kevin lashes out
at anybody that crosses him.

He was on social media saying,

"Drunk, gunslinging DA
threatened me with a gun,"

and this and that and the other.
And it wasn't like that at all.

You're asking me,
is there anyone out there

with something against me?

The assistant DA in Tupelo
pulled a gun on me

while talking about body parts.

By this time,

he's talking about
the good old boy network in Tupelo

and the conspiracy going on
at the hospital,

and that these people blew up his car
and burned down his house.

And he's intimating
that I had something to do with it.

I know
there's a good old boy system in Tupelo.

I've been followed, threatened, harassed.

Strangers that come into my home.

And I told Jack,

"Look, if y'all will get him some help,

if you'll get him on some medication
or something,

I won't charge him with assault."

Jack says, "Family talked,
and we're not gonna do that."

I said, "Well, okay."

The only thing wrong with Kevin
is he's an activist,

and they don't like that.

If you dare speak out,

they'll take you down.

During this time,
I would drive home from work.

And it got to
where I'd leave my car running,

and if Kevin wasn't acting very stable,

I would grab the kids and leave.

So every night,
I spent many hours at McDonald's.

I didn't have a lot of money,
but I could buy coffee

and buy the kids french fries.

And I'd talk to strangers
'cause I was so lonely.

I felt sorry for Laura.

I mean, I've cried
over what her kids were going through.

Living in the situation that they're in,

they just were sad.

So I gave her a job as my secretary,

and she did good at the job.

Hey, Jack.

Jack was just a kind individual.

And he was the only person in the world
that knew what I was going through

because he was dealing with it too.

She would call me
and lean on me for support.

Laura would say,

"You're a family man."

"You're a good husband.
You're a good father."

"You run a good business."

"I just respect you."

The kids and I,
I don't know what we would've done

if it hadn't been for Jack.

He supported us for years.

He was my rock and my hero.

Do you
start to fall in love with Jack?

My therapist says I did.

Do you have any feelings
for my brother Jack, Laura?

No.

Have you done anything
to make me feel insecure

and to build uncertainty
between me and my brother?

No.

I said,
"You love him, don't you?"

And she's like,
"I can depend on him for anything."

Do you or do you not

want to divorce, Laura?

She just simply said,
"I can't handle it anymore, Kevin."

"Being married to you is scary."

And for $500,

the marriage was over forever.

"Act two, scene six."

"In KC's darkest hour,

he is cast aside by his wife and family."

"Meanwhile, his brother Jack looms large,

poised to claim the throne of Tupelo
as his own."

Please put your hands together
for the one, the only, Jack Curtis.

My wife then kept performing
with my brother.

My backup singer,
Miss Laura Curtis.

And Jack's like, "Kevin,
it's just business. You understand."

I just thought,
"Wow, the show went on, but without me."

With Jack,
it was just so much fun.

Everything he touches turns to gold.

Jack took my band, took my wife,

stole all of my gigs,

and everyone loves him.

Jack has just become a hero to Tupelo.

I just get all worked up

when there's this massive sweat
rolling out of that black hair,

and women are throwing him panties,
and he's wiping his brow with them.

He belongs to Tupelo completely.

A special visit today
from Tupelo's own Elvis, Jack Curtis.

It's good to be home, baby.

Been a long time
since I've been back in Tupelo.

I mean,
that was what Jack was known for.

Jack Curtis, Elvis Presley.
Jack Curtis, Elvis Presley.

He's also president
of Elvis Presley Fan Club,

which is a pretty big deal around here.

We call him our Elvis.
The fan club does. He's our Elvis.

You know,
Kevin started getting less bookings.

And his brother
started getting a lot of bookings.

And I know Kevin was upset about all that.

And they traveled all over, you know?

And, uh, yeah, that was...
that was uncomfortable.

They went to Las Vegas,

Puerto Rico, Jamaica.

It was odd.

When I stepped off that plane
onto Jamaica's land, it hit me.

I've lost who I was, and I want me back.

Jack and I sang on a big stage
on Valentine's Day.

I dressed like Marilyn Monroe,
and I got to dance with Jack.

Kevin would just...
He would harass us the whole time.

He called Jack every second,
"Where are you? What are you doing?"

"Where's Laura? Get her on the phone."
I'm like, "I don't wanna talk."

I didn't care anymore at this point.

I just wanted to drink
and party my heart out.

Here we go!

♪ I was drunk
The day my mama got out of prison... ♪

So we partied
till five in the morning,

and we'd get taken back
in the Cheetah limousine.

Oh, it's on record.

I'm having the time of my life.

Meanwhile, I'm back
in fucking shithole, Mississippi.

You know, just being Mr. Mom.

I'd change diapers, vacuum the floor,

wash the dishes, load the dishwasher,

make the bed, mow the lawn,

re-roof the roof.

And then I get a phone call from a hotel.

"You and your wife..."

"You're Jack, right? You're the husband.
You're Laura's husband."

I go, "No, my brother is Jack.
I guess he's paying for the hotel."

"Well, I think your wife left her shoe
in your brother's room or something,

but we've got one of her shoes."

I'm like, "Okay, I-I..."
This is not registering.

And they're like, "We have Jack and Laura
in the same hotel room."

And I'm like, "What?"

What was
your relationship with Jack?

Hm, let's see. Um...

We were...

Hm.

Let's see. This was, um...

How do I put this? Okay.

Uh, we were close.
I'll put it that way. We were close.

- Too close?
- Yes.

Yes, maybe we crossed a line or two.
Maybe, yes. Yes.

I drove as fast as I could
to Jack's church.

I jumped over a six-foot bush,
flat-footed,

and I grabbed my brother by the throat,
choking him in front of 50 people,

and I said, "Are you fucking my wife?"

"Yes or no?"

"If you're having an affair with Laura,

I will kill you, dead as fuck."

And I meant it.

Curtis. Put your hands up!

Hands up! Get on the ground!

"When things couldn't possibly
get any worse for KC,

suddenly a loud bang, bang, bang
thunders at his door."

"Outside is Tupelo's finest boys in blue,

ready to haul KC's ass off to prison."

More than 12 months
after David Daniels pulled a gun on me,

I was arrested while sitting home
eating spaghetti at my house

with no shirt on.

David Daniels said
Kevin attacked him with a beer bottle,

but he had no proof, no nothing.

I called a dozen attorneys,

and every single one of 'em said,

"I'm sorry,
I have a conflict of interest."

"I know David Daniels personally."

"I'm not going
to be able to represent you."

But here's the kicker.
When I arrive for the first day of trial,

guess who's my judge?

Sadie Holland.

Sadie fucking Holland.

Co-owner of the three largest
funeral homes with her son, Steve Holland.

You can't make this shit up.

Court starts,

and Judge Holland forces me to stand trial

and be my own legal representation.

I testified that, in Mississippi,

everyone has a right of self-defense,

and that Kevin came at me
with the beer bottle.

I said, "This is bullshit."

And they kept forcing me to sit down
and shut up.

I've never seen a grown man
throw an angry, screaming fit like that.

I was making a mockery,
right in front of their faces,

of the insanity
of a fake kangaroo court hearing.

And she says, "If you say one more word,

you're gonna be in contempt of court,
Mr. Curtis. Understand? Sit down."

I said, "Overruled."

Ooh. Ouch. That hurt.

And then Judge Holland
looked directly at me

and sentenced me to six months
at Parchman Prison.

The whole thing turns into a melee,

and his family storms the bench
where Judge Holland was sitting.

And they had to get extra deputies
to take Kevin into custody.

I walked right up there
in front of that court,

and I looked David Daniels
dead in the face,

and I said, "Look here, buddy."

"I promise you, to my dying day,

I'll work against you."

"That I will get you."

I'm sitting in a prison cell

when I have this sudden moment of clarity.

This is a conspiracy.

This is a 100% conspiracy
to shut Kevin Curtis up.

It was orchestrated by the Tupelo Hospital

and their connections
with black market organ harvesting.

It linked into funeral home owners,

funeral home directors,

law enforcement, sheriff's department,
judges, the assistant DA,

politicians, congressmen,

senators, state representatives,
you name it.

They were all involved.

The hospital has a monopoly
on everyone and everything.

And they know the sheriff.

He's doing ads with the hospital.

...reminds me
of the simple things in life.

Now, his friend David Daniels
used to perform at the Western Connection.

So that's when he first met Steve.

What a coincidence.

And guess who Steve's best friend is?

Senator Roger Wicker,

whose office is only two miles
from the funeral home.

And remember,

the hospital's federally funded,
courtesy of Senator Wicker.

And then, not only was Sadie handpicked
to be my judge,

she's making money
off of dead bodies from the hospital.

And I'm like, "How far does this go?"

Hello there.

I can't really introduce myself
and, uh, tell you who I am.

Had a few run-ins with the law
in the last couple of years, and...

...well, let's just say
that the law enforcement and myself

don't quite see eye to eye
with things that are acceptable

in society.

Prison changes you.

You are broken, beaten, and defeated.

There was a darkness and an anger in me.

I had started writing
what first started off as a book,

Missing Pieces,

to expose this rogue,
corrupt justice system.

I name names
with high-up, powerful people.

And then I took the first chapters,

and I blasted them all over the Internet
with one question.

"Tell me what you think."

Kevin entered my life on Facebook.

We both loved Tony Robbins.

So there was a connection from the start.
And then we would talk every day.

But when Kevin put Missing Pieces online,

I realized
there was this really dark side.

It was all about body parts,
stalking, corrupt police.

At first, I thought it was fiction.

But then I realized too late

it was real life.

And I had no idea I was about to step into
this monstrous soap opera.

♪ There's one thing
that she don't need ♪

♪ Is another little hungry mouth to feed ♪

♪ In the ghetto ♪

♪ In the ghetto ♪

Hey, Paulette.
This is the infamous prison over here

where all the guys in blue love me.

And here's the army tanks
in case we turn into a police state.

When I put
Missing Pieces on the Internet,

I became public enemy number one.

Seven days a week,

officers trolled down my dead-end street,
over and over,

and just go round and around,

park their car and just watch.

Oh,
just cruising down my street.

For no reason at all.

Enjoy your night, po-po.
I'm KC, and I approve this video.

Watch the government car.

One mile an hour past my house.

Yes, my dad is paranoid.

But when it comes to the police,
he was stalked. He was harassed.

He was treated differently.

Leave me alone.

The police would show up
every night.

They would just drive around
really slowly, and that frightened me.

I'm being watched.
I'm being followed.

Police were stopping me and harassing me,
coming to my home, shining lights at me.

Three different police officers
showed up.

He hit my camera with his flashlight.

Police officers have been stalking me
and terrorizing me. Why?

My book, Missing Pieces, will tell.

I remain KC,
and I do approve this message.

The messed-up part is
the police who were targeting my dad,

they ended up solidifying his reality
of the conspiracies.

I think mentally he was starting to break.

He started posting some strange things.

You talk me into applying here.

A year and a half later,
I accidentally see something.

I begin writing a tell-all story.

The conspiracy thing,
it... it overtook him.

He kept telling us there was white vans
that followed him everywhere.

Got a little visitor.

Got you on camera.

And then he told us that helicopters
were always following him.

Kevin was always calling it.

"Jackie, there's three or four helicopters
over my house."

And I'd say, "Okay, so what?"

Something in the sky.

Completely silent.

White. No markings.

My brother would challenge me
about being a targeted individual.

Helicopters hovering.
He acted like he didn't believe it.

"Nah, you're just making that up.
They don't care about you."

I'm like, "It is happening."

I see you.

Gotcha.

Mm-hmm.

The all-seeing eye.

The second time in one hour.

Local police begin to harass.

Black military helicopters
release white powder substance

all in my yard.

I get a gas mask.

Everyone in the world said,
"You're crazy, and you're a liar."

So that drove me to prove
that I'm not crazy, and I'm not lying,

and I did find this,

and I did get fired and banned,

and the house was burned down,

and the car did blow up,

and the wife did leave me,
and my children were threatened,

and my cat burned alive
in my fucking house.

I'm pissed.

It is absolutely an injustice
for the system to zero in

on someone like me.

Now I'm upset,

and I'm done with it!

Kevin started harassing a lot of people
and fought about everything online.

Drove Roger Wicker crazy,

David Daniels, Everett Dutschke,

Sadie Holland, Steve Holland.

He drives everybody insane.

If you make him an angry...

...you have an enemy
that will never leave you

till the end of time.

I am KC,

tired of being stalked and harassed
by all of you.

Yeah, you are harassing me!

And I go to jail,
not once, not twice.

I had been arrested
about 25 fucking times.

How do you like prison, boy?

I bet you wish
you had shut your mouth, Elvis.

You in Mississippi now, boy.

We're the good old boys.

Then my own family
conspired secretly behind my back

to have me committed.

Psychiatric ward stuck a needle in my arm,
and I was like this.

So my whole family's saying,

"Shut up."

Society is saying,

"Shut him down."

I'm like this.

"Just sing, Kevin."

I begin to research the US government,

past presidents, Watergate,

New World Order, and read Bible.

It all begins making sense.

These people
have destroyed his life.

I just wish they'd know the hell
that they put us through.

You know?

I'm sorry.

I lost everything.

Feel like the walls are closing in.

The end.

Or is it?

I'll never forget, he told me,

"I'm gonna make everybody aware
in the world that this has to stop."

I walked into my music room,
sat down at my computer.

"Dear Mr. President,

I am writing to you in the hopes
that you help me against mass corruption

in Northeast Mississippi."

"I believe, because of what I know,
my life is in danger."

"To see a wrong and not expose it
is to become a silent partner

to its continuance."

I signed off,

"I am KC, and I approve this message."

Kevin finally
reached the point where

you have had enough.

We're following developments
in the case of an elephant

for Ringling Brothers Circus
that was shot in a drive-by shooting

Tuesday morning in Tupelo.

We had a circus here.

The elephants were out in plain view
of the public.

There's a drive-by shooting,
shot the elephant.

The police in Tupelo
have set up a tip line.

They're hoping somebody will lead them
to whoever did this.

And of course,
among the questions is motive.

Police are looking for
a white male

who was driving
a white Ford Explorer that night.

This guy that shot the elephant
was in a white Ford car,

same as Kevin drives.

So my kids and I were freaked out

'cause Kevin had been acting crazy
for a week.

Lee County, 911.
What's your emergency?

Good evening. This is...

Then, the next day,

we received a phone call about this letter
that had been sent to our justice court.

And there was this powdered substance
that was in it addressed to Judge Holland.

And she opened it.

The sheriff called me

and said, "Steve, uh,

your mother has been involved
in a situation,

and you need to come down here now."

So we gathered the evidence

and sent it to Quantico for testing.

If this is what we really think
that this is,

this is a threat on their life.

There was a letter...

...that was mailed
to one of our justice court judges.

Inside this letter
was a suspicious content.

The FBI sequestered Momma

and rushed her to the emergency room.

They would not let me talk
to my own mother.

Who would do something like this?

That's got to be pure evil.

I got a call from a US attorney.

He says, "Have you recently got any mail
without a return address on it?"

I said, "As a matter of fact, I do."

And he said, "Don't open it."

And then Mr. Daniels contacted us
that there was something sent to him

that was suspicious.

Okay, we realized then

we've got a big problem.

A very disturbing report
coming out of Washington, D.C. right now.

No one knows what it is.
The Capitol's being evacuated

and evacuations taking place across D.C.

We do begin tonight
with breaking news.

A US senator has been targeted.

An envelope addressed
to the office of Senator Roger Wicker,

a Republican from Mississippi.

Roger Wicker has been sent
what is believed to be

a poisonous substance.

My chief of staff called
and said the strangest thing happened.

Someone sent ricin to me in an envelope.

I was given Secret Service protection.

So I knew it was very serious
to the FBI people.

I worked for the FBI
doing counterterrorism.

Late at night,

I was awakened by a phone call from our
Weapons of Mass Destruction coordinator

saying, "Hey, we're tracking something."

"We're not sure right now,

but one of our senators
received a threat letter

with the poison ricin."

And then this investigation
elevated through the roof

when he followed up with another call

that President Obama
had also received a letter.

We're getting our first look
at urgent warnings

from the White House now.

The FBI and Secret Service
are now investigating two envelopes.

The most recent letter

intended for the hands
of the president of the United States.

Ricin has been found
on letters mailed to the president

and at least one US senator.

This is
a really serious matter.

Ricin is a very deadly poison.

6,000 times more poisonous than cyanide.

And a tiny drop of ricin
is enough to kill a human.

There is certainly
a heightened level of concern here.

Pennsylvania Avenue
outside of the White House

has been closed off to foot traffic.

I'm gonna interrupt you.
Jay Carney is taking the podium.

Let's hear what he has to say.

Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.
Thank you for being here.

There are a couple of issues
that are under investigation by the FBI,

and I thought I would start with that.

The president has, of course,
been briefed on these letters.

He was briefed last night
and again this morning.

And as the president said,
we will find out who did this,

we will find out why,

and we will bring those responsible
to justice.

There was an urgency
to track down who did this.

We needed to act.
We needed to act quickly.

We had FBI, Secret Service,
US Capitol Police,

Postal Service, National Guard,
Homeland Security.

Let me tell you,

you send a deadly toxin
to the US president,

there's a lot of folks gonna start trying
to figure out who you are.

I really didn't know
why this particular individual chose me.

But sending the letter to the president

was a grave, grave mistake on his part.

The first step of the investigation,

we needed to do some link analysis.

The envelopes were all postmarked
Memphis, Tennessee.

But when they go
through the Postal Service,

they're stamped with a barcode,

and the barcode indicated
that the originating office

was Tupelo, Mississippi.

So Tupelo became ground zero
for this operation.

New information
on that ricin case.

The FBI is heading to Mississippi

as agents work to find out
who mailed poisoned letters

to the president of the United States.

The FBI came down here and said
the two letters mailed to Senator Wicker

and President Obama are exactly the same.

And I would love to have had
a picture on my face of what I looked like

when they showed this.

And I said, "Hold on a minute."

John, this is just coming in.

Both letters contain
the following message.

"No one wanted to listen to me before."

"There are still missing pieces."

"Maybe I have your attention now,
even if that means someone must die."

I told the FBI,
we have a strange individual

that had this beef with this hospital
and this conspiracy that took place.

The sheriff said he's obsessed
with hospitals and funeral homes

taking body parts and selling them
on the black market.

So we contacted Representative Holland,
Senator Wicker's office.

The staff told us,
"He sends us letters all the time

demanding we pass House Bill 6631."

"It's a guy we deal with
that is not super stable."

We learned this man had
a past record of criminal activity.

Several arrests,
including an assault charge

against a district attorney.

The DA had to pull a gun on him
out of fear for his safety.

And then we start to find

there's an issue between him
and Sadie Holland,

who had previously sentenced him.

So our analysts scrubbed his social media,
and there it was.

Missing Pieces.

A book about black market body parts.

And I see Missing Pieces,

and immediately, you start seeing
the phrases that are in the threat letter.

The two letters,
they're signed the same way, saying,

"I am KC..."

"...and I approve this message."

- "I am KC."
- "I am KC."

- "I am KC."
- "I approve this message."

These letters are manifestos.

And now he's willing to kill
to bring attention to his cause.

We're dealing with a madman.

The biggest puzzle of all is,
who is KC?

My phone rings,

and it's the sheriff of Tupelo,

Jim Johnson.

He says, "I want you to meet me
behind the Cracker Barrel."

When I drove up,
I saw, like, four black SUVs

full of special agents, FBI.

And they said, "Jack, well, the truth is,

we need you to tell us
where your brother lives."

Breaking news
out of Mississippi.

There is a massive manhunt
for a terror suspect.

Sources are telling us
that it was somebody from Mississippi,

from Senator Wicker's home state.

Putting on the WMD suit
for the first time for real

was a very sobering experience.

And we all prayed
that none of us had leaks.

♪ A poor little baby child
Born in the ghetto ♪

"April 17th, 2013."

"KC is finally ready
for a relaxing night of peace and quiet."

"Just listening to his favorite
Dolly Parton record,

eating steak dinner with ranch dressing,

when, out of nowhere..."

Boom!

SWAT kicked my door down.

At long last, this was my destiny.

The FBI, the Secret Service,

Capitol Police, Homeland Security,

helicopters hovering
with mounted machine-guns.

"Fall to the ground.
Do not resist. We will shoot you."

And this big, muscle-bound, steroid-taking
G-man shot my dog with a tranquilizer.

My sweet little chihuahua, Moo Cow.

Moo Cow, get back inside!

And they just went in with their batons.

Pssh! Pow! Boom!

Boom! Holy hell.

♪ Or he'll grow to be
An angry young man some day... ♪

I've got shackles and chains

running from my neck to my waist
to my feet.

♪ Too blind to see... ♪

Then they threw me into the van
and locked the door

and drove to a secret location.

We have breaking news. The FBI
has arrested a suspect in Mississippi

in connection with suspicious letters
addressed to President Obama.

Now, just moments ago,
members of this hazmat team arrived.

They breached the door.

The first thing they did
was take down a security camera.

A lot of these men are heavily armed.

The big question, Diane,
what are they going to find inside?

Strange new details emerging.

He is said to be an Elvis impersonator
obsessed with conspiracy theories

and with a personal link to his targets.

He talks about organ harvesting.

He said on his Facebook
he's been arrested 22 times

and that he was gonna keep
fighting the fight, whatever that is.

Paul Kevin Curtis claimed
to have uncovered a conspiracy

to traffic in body parts.

A secret plot to sell human body parts
on the black market.

Wrote a novel called Missing Pieces
about black market body parts.

Jack came in
about the same time it was on TV.

And everything's a blur.

Wham. It came down on me.

All at one time.

I kind of passed out for a while.

♪ And his mama cries ♪

They take me
into an interrogation room.

Twelve hours.

It became a game. Cat and mouse.

"Mr. Curtis,

do you recall sending a letter
to Roger Wicker?"

"And Sadie Holland? President Obama?"

And I'm like, "Yes,
I've sent letters to them numerous times."

Everyone looked at me with utter fear.

And I said, "What is this about?"

"Mr. Curtis, with all due respect,
you know what you've done."

"Don't toy with us."

And I said,
"This is about the body parts, right?"

Another man dressed in black
gets right in my face,

and he is hostile.

"We know you did it."

"Don't play dumb with us."

"Okay, does this have something to do
with Facebook?"

"Cut the shit, Mr. Curtis."

"We're not gonna sit here
and fuck around with you."

And a fourth interrogator
gets right in my face and said,

"Mr. Curtis, you tried to kill
the president of the United States,

Barack Obama."

And a tear come out of his eye.

"Such a shame, Mr. Curtis."

"You are never
going to see your children again

because of what you've done."

"You're going to prison for life."

And at that moment,
I just broke down crying.

I literally just wanted to see my mom.

I said to myself, "You win."

"I'll shut up now."

KC is down for the count.
They got what they wanted.

TKO, you know. "Just shut your mouth."

Good morning.
We do know that Kevin Curtis is here

at the Lafayette County Jail
in Oxford, Mississippi.

He could potentially face
various serious charges,

including use of a weapon
of mass destruction, terrorism,

as well as an attempt to commit murder.

I was sitting on my couch
watching TV,

and I saw Kevin come up on the screen.

I sat there and I felt sick.

He turned out to be a terrorist.

His name is Paul Kevin Curtis,

and the Feds are describing this guy
as a paranoid loner.

He was a mad personality.

He was a vicious kind of guy.
He attacked me personally...

I told the FBI,
it's the only person that I knew of

that was insane enough
to do something like this.

Senator Wicker actually hired him
a few years back, but went on to say that,

since then, Paul Kevin Curtis',
uh, mental state has deteriorated.

Clearly,
he has some mental issues.

Paranoia, or paranoid schizophrenia.

People that we've talked to
will say outright

that they believe he's mentally ill.

I kept asking myself,

"How did we get to this point?"

And so I made a statement
that he has a bipolar condition,

and that at times in the past,
he has gotten off of his medication.

As a family, we are concerned,

and we hope that one day,

we can get my brother
the help that, uh... that he needs.

His ex-wife saying
something went wrong.

I was with the FBI for 24 hours.

I said, "Do you think he did this?"

And they said, "We know he did it.
We have the proof."

And as they were leaving,
they said, "Oh, last thing."

"Is Kevin a Republican or a Democrat?"

I said, "He's a Democrat."

"He loves President Obama."

As I'm sitting there
being interrogated into the eighth hour,

someone from the CIA sits down.

"Mr. Curtis,

are you familiar with the poison ricin?"

I said, "Sir,

I haven't bought rice in years.
I never eat rice."

It seemed so surreal.

What is he talking about?

"Rice? I don't even like rice."

That is the most odd response
I've ever received

from someone we have just arrested.

You think, "Okay, it can't get any worse,"
and it does.

The only time I eat rice
is when I go to a Chinese restaurant.

And I started to really believe
that this guy may not know what ricin is.

Six agents walk out of the room,

and I see them
through a glass, whispering.

Kevin Curtis just did not seem
to be a person that would have

the intelligence of a chemist
to create ricin.

I thought, "Ricin? What is ricin,
first of all?" So I did research.

It's a very complex poison.

There would be a lot of lab equipment.

You have to know what to order.
You have to know how to prepare it.

You'd have to know
how it was gonna be mixed.

You have to wear gloves.
You have to protect yourself.

There's a lot of thought,
detail, and chemistry.

And I honestly didn't think
that Kevin had the wherewithal.

Kevin just did not fit the mold.

I said, "There is no way
he pulled this off."

He dropped out of high school.

It was too complicated, you know,
for him to be able to do all of that.

I mean, this is Kevin.
This is an Elvis impersonator.

We walked out and said,
"There's no way this guy did this."

Finally, they walked back in
and point-blank said,

"Mr. Curtis, do you have any enemies?"

"Does Kevin have any enemies?"

And I said, "I do know somebody
that could pull this off."

The number one enemy
that has made my life a living hell

for the last four or five years
is James Everett Dutschke,

a karate instructor
in Tupelo, Mississippi.

I think it's James Everett Dutschke.

Everett Dutschke.

If anybody could mastermind
something like this, it would be Dutschke.

Dutschke? My Dutschke
that works in my office,

the insurance agent?

Dersky...

Dutschke, excuse me.
We called him douchebag.

Paul Kevin Curtis,

the man who was arrested
and accused of sending letters

tainted with the deadly poison ricin.

What I'm told
by a law enforcement official today

is that Dutschke
is a Wayne Newton impersonator.

♪ Uh-oh, trouble's back in town... ♪

This call is from a federal prison.

You will not be charged for this call.

To accept this call, press five.

This call is from...

Dutschke.

- ♪ Uh-oh ♪
- ♪ Uh-oh, trouble's back in town ♪

♪ Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh ♪

♪ I feel a sad, old memory ♪

♪ Coming back to torture me ♪

- ♪ Uh-oh ♪
- ♪ Uh-oh, trouble's back in town ♪

♪ Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh ♪

♪ Funny, she still looks the same ♪

♪ Time has brought so little change ♪

♪ Why did she turn up again ♪

♪ Just when my heart was on the mend? ♪

♪ Wish I didn't love her so ♪

♪ Better hide until she goes ♪

- ♪ Uh-oh ♪
- ♪ Uh-oh, trouble's back in town ♪

♪ Uh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh ♪

♪ Funny, she still looks the same ♪

♪ Time has brought so little change ♪

♪ Why did she turn up again ♪

♪ Just when my heart was on the mend? ♪

♪ Wish I didn't love her so ♪

♪ Better hide until she goes ♪

- ♪ Uh-oh ♪
- ♪ Uh-oh, trouble's back in town ♪