Resurrection (1999) - full transcript

- Prudhomme.
- man: John, sorry to call you so early.

- I was up.
- We got a problem.

What time is it?

It's early.

OK. I'll make you some breakfast.

I don't have time.
Go back to sleep.

Yeah. The old man says,
"Son, I get a hard-on once a week...

but I fart at least
ten times a day." (laughs)

- Good morning, John. OK. Stay back!
- Keep them away, Mac.

- You've been inside?
- No, I just got here.

Hey, how does a blonde turn
the lights on after sex?



She opens the car door.

I don't know why I waste
my good jokes on you.

I don't know either.

Prudhomme. What are
you doing here?

- I got the call.
- Bullshit. We were at the scene first.

- I got the call!
- What's the deal, man?

You don't have enough cases
that you need more?

- Where's the body?
- I asked you a question.

Hey! He just doing what
they told him to do.

Hollinsworth, I'm not talking to you.

Oh, you're not talking to
me, Scholfield?

Yeah, well...
I'm talking to you.

So what is it?
You better than everybody else?

Nobody can do as good as you?
We're all idiots here?



I don't see the point
of this conversation.

The point is the reason why
nobody likes you.

I like you.

He's a little ripe, but a...
He's been dead for four days.

- Who is he?
- Peter Balcour. He owned the place.

Who found him?

Contractor who had
an appointment with him.

Seems Balcour's old man was
bit of a recluse.

Owned a large fleet of fishing boats.

He died a couple of months ago
and left everything to his son...

Balcour had an appointment
with the contractor...

to fix the place up to sell it.

Any other family?

Contractor says the kid
was the end of the line.

- Anything taken?
- You mean besides his arm?

No. We did find his wallet in his
jacket pocket with 112 dollars in.

Was he alive when
he lost the arm?

Yeah. If you check out
the blood splatter.

But... take a look at this.

He got some kind of
strange burn effect here.

And the back of his
head is all singed.

- What is it?
- I don't know.

I'll have to verify all that
when I get him back to the shop.

Any more light in here?

No, that's it. I didn't wanna touch
anything so I left the curtains closed.

- Open them.
- Sure.

(boat horn blowing)

(chattering)

- You finished that report?
- Yeah.

- Thanks.
- OK.

Do you think this guy is
somewhere in New York city?

I'll get in touch with NYPD
and when they get him, I'll get his ass!

Hey Jack, can I get one
of those papers?

Prudhomme, Hollinsworth.
In my office.

Rousch and Scholfield were just in here
bitching about you stealing their case.

They can have it if they want it.

This is not a democracy, Prudhomme.
It's your case.

- I gave it to you.
- Then what's the problem?

The problem is you pissed 'em off.

Hollinsworth is the only one in the entire
department who wants to work with you.

I don't know what it was
like in New Orleans...

but since you came here you've gone
through one partner after another.

Did you bring me in here to talk
about my social skills?

Talking to you is like
pissing into the wind.

I bet you should know
better by now.

What've you got?

Peter Balcour, 33 year old, male.

Owned a fleet of fishing boats.

Had his right arm cut
off at the shoulder.

The killer presumably
took it with him when he left.

Took it with him?
You mean like a souvenir?

That's somethin' new.
Witnesses?

No, but the killer
left us a message...

written in blood.

- Prints?
- Forensics is checking.

- We won't find any prints.
- How the hell do you know that?

Because he doesn't want us to.

- And also, there will be more bodies.
- You don't know that.

For all you know, this...

- What's his name?
- Balcour.

Balcour shorted a customer
on a case of tuna.

The guy cut his arm off and pulled
all this bullshit to throw us off track.

The killer wrote "He is
coming" on the window.

That signifies a future event
that hasn't taken place yet.

This guy has something worked out
and today was just the first move.

If this was all planned,
what's the motive?

We already know the motive.
The killer wanted his arm.

That's a motive.

(speaking French)

Would it be too much to ask to get
a cheeseburger every once in a while?

What do you think
he took the arm for?

We have to talk
about this over lunch?

I don't know.
Obviously we're not dealing

with somebody who is playing
with a full deck here.

God only knows what he is doing.

Maybe we got another
Jeffrey Dahmer.

Why not take the whole body?

Maybe he only wanted a snack.

Jenny called today.
She's coming to visit us.

Again?

Yes, again.
What, is there a problem?

No but the last time she
came for a weekend...

she stayed two weeks.

She's my best friend. What I'm supposed
to tell her? Stay in a hotel?

Hey, you OK?

Yeah. Just... thinking.

About that case?
I saw it on the news.

This world just keep getting sicker
and sicker everyday.

Why would someone do
such a thing?

I don't want to talk about it.

Well, I'm not asking details.
I'm just asking your opinion.

I said I don't want
to talk about it!

And the fat guy says: I thought I was gonna
scream when he came out of the closet.

Prudhomme.

Do you know the exact cause of death?

Yeah. Exsanguination. That means
he bled to death.

He also has some burns on the right
side of his parietal region.

Looks like he was tortured with a
taser or some kind of cattle prod.

It didn't kill him but
probably knocked him out.

So he was unconscious when
the arm was taken?

No, unfortunately, he was.

His endorphin and adrenaline levels
were incredible high in his blood.

Which means he was
wide awake. He...

He experienced a severe
trauma just before he died.

You tell me that he waited for him
to wake up before he cut his arm off?

- Yeah, that's what I'm telling you.
- How sick is that?

I can also tell you that
whoever this guy is...

he knows what he is doing...

because he removed that arm
with almost surgical precision.

This guy is no Jack the Ripper.
You might be interested in this.

- Roman numerals.
- What's that?

Oh, yeah. It's a keymark
etched in permanently.

Let me check the neck.

Bismark Locker Services.

Over there.

Bingo!

Can you identify it?

Brachychiton acerifolius.

It's a flower from the bottle tree.

Where can I find it around here?

- You can't. It's indigenous to Australia.
- We're not in Australia.

I can see why they
made you detective.

- What about the Botanical Museum?
- I don't think so.

This flower was picked
only a few days ago.

There is one, however,
at the Botanical Gardens.

There's your flower.

- Billy?
- Got it.

(camera shutter clicks)

Hey, Prudhomme.

This whole area has been
cut out and laid back in.

- Pull it up.
- Why not?

Oh, my God...
(coughing)

Jesus!

Call Chibley and
close this place down.

How difficult could it be for someone
to get in here at night?

Not very difficult. All we have is
a wall around the property.

No security?

This isn't a bank.
All we have are plants here.

Prudhomme?

Andy...

His arm has been removed.

What's that?

This guy likes to play
with numbers, doesn't he?

Prints identify him as
Matthew Leesan, age 33.

He works for the I.R.S.

At least our killer's taste
in victims is improving.

He was killed before Balcour
and at a different location.

The killer moved his
body to the Gardens.

Why go to all that trouble?
Risk being seen?

What about the numbers
on the victims?

- Actually, they're numerals.
- What?

- They're roman numerals.
- And numerals aren't numbers?

All I'm saying is I think the killer
choose numerals for a reason.

119...

2427.

Numbers, numerals.

So far, we've only found
what he wanted us to find.

No prints. No trace evidence. Nothing.

What we have here is a
very clever serial killer.

Guys, the lab just called down.

The blood on the window
wasn't Balcour's.

- Whose was it? Killer's?
- It wasn't anybody's.

Lab says it wasn't human.

Says it was lamb's blood.

(siren wails)

Do you wanna play?

That's it, my baby.

You wanna play?

(music over dialogue)

(horn blares)

No!

(sobs)

- Who called it in?
- I did.

- Where is it?
- Just over here.

Right down here, gentleman.

Watch yourselves,
it's a mess down here.

Transients, druggies, whatever...

All sorts of shit
happens down here.

Fuck! It stinks!

Yeah, it's too easy to go outside
to relieve themselves.

- How did you come across him?
- One of his buddies flagged us down.

(shrieking)

- (rats squeaking)
- Rats in this city!

Here is something you
don't see every day.

He's in there.

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

Oh my God!

What's this guy got?

Fucking shopping list or something?

Where's his head?

There's a guy sitting in front of
me here without his head, John.

Where's his head?

I'm sorry.

Where is Chibley?

He's on his way.

One plastic comb, about
1.25 in change and a pack of gum.

Oh yeah, and a wallet.
One James Ordway.

- You done?
- Yeah.

I got a pretty good
idea what killed him.

- Is this the scene?
- No.

The killer cut him in here...

strung him up and then he
bled him like a stuck pig.

Then he dragged him back in there,
cleaned him up...

and sat him on the throne
for a dramatic effect.

- I gotta get some air.
- You're welcome.

- Any witnesses?
- No.

What? No witnesses?
No witnesses?

- Are you kidding me?
- We talked to everyone in the building...

no one saw anything.
No one heard anything.

Wait a minute! You're kidding me.
A guy gets in here...

cuts another guy's head off...

walks off with it
and nobody sees anything?

No witnesses! Fuck!

I swear to God, man. I've
been on the job 8 years...

I've never seen anythin'
like this. Never!

- He wants to shock us.
- He's doin' a good job.

Let's go.

We found the victim's wallet.
Driver's license ID'd him as James Ordway.

Are we sure it's him?

Yeah. We checked the prints
against the license. It's him.

Leesan was killed 2 weeks ago,
Balcour one week ago...

- Ordway, last night.
- We're up to speed.

I had the lab blow up
his license photo.

2427...

119...

Numbers...
1 plus 1 plus 9. 2.

2 plus 4...

4 plus 2 plus 7...

5... Doesn't make sense.
Doesn't make sense.

Peter, 119...
119...

Peter 1:19...

My God! Peter 1:19...

Mathew 24:27...

Peter, Matthew, James.
All names of apostles.

Peter was a fisherman. Balcour
owned a fishing fleet.

Mathew was a tax collector.
Leesan worked for the I.R.S.

So the guy is some kind
of a zealot?

The numbers he carved on the victims
are chapter and verses from the Bible.

Peter, chapter 1, verse 19.
119.

"But with precious blood
as of a lamb...

unblemished and
unspotted. Christ...

a message was written
in lamb's blood".

Matthew, 24:27.

"For as the lightning cometh out of the
east, and shineth unto the west,

so shall also be the coming
of the Son of man".

All the victims were 33 years old.
The same age as Christ...

when he died.

All three died a week
apart of each other...

on a Friday, the
same day Christ died.

The guy is rebuilding
the body of Christ.

You say he's actually
rebuilding a body?

Yes. He's killed a person a week
for the last 3 weeks.

He's halfway through.

If he stays on his Friday schedule,
that'll take 3 more weeks.

- What's 3 weeks from now?
- Easter.

The resurrection.

Scholfield, you and Rousch
contact...

every seminar, school
and church in the area.

Check on zealots,
disturbed personalities...

Anyone who might fit the profile.

Moltz, check the mental institutions...

- see if they ever treated anyone that could be our boy.
- Got it.

The rest should canvas the crime scenes
again. Somebody had to see something!

Care a beer later?

No I can't, I promised Sara
I'd go to the market...

so the house is stocked
when Jenny comes in.

What's the story with this Jenny?
Is she cute?

I guess so.

You guess so? She's cute.
She's cute, right?

OK, so what's the problem?
You know I'm cute.

Can we make a little connection here?
You'll hook us up?

I don't know...

That's all I need is for her start
liking you and decide to stay longer.

No, no. That's good.
She likes me, she can stay with me.

It's all good. We all win.

Are you really that desperate?

Yeah. I really am.

Father Rousell dropped by
to see how we're doing.

- Good to see you, John.
- What brings you by, Father?

Well, it's been 6 months
since you've been to church.

I just wanted to see how you're doing.

I'm fine.

Will you sit down?
I'll just get some coffee.

I'm just fine.

You shouldn't turn your
back on your faith.

God loves you, John.

His love can help you heal.

Oh, I've seen how he loves me.

My son was in a coma for 5 days.

You know how many times I prayed?

Where was my God when
I needed him?

- I'm sorry.
- It's alright. It's alright.

What the hell were
you thinking, Sara?

I can't reach you anymore.

I'm right here.

I'm worried about you.

I'm worried about us.

What do you want from me?

I want you to talk to me.

Will you please just talk to me?

It's been one year
since Michael died...

and you have not visited
his grave since the funeral.

You don't understand.

You are not the only
one who lost a child!

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I didn't mean that.

- Morning, John.
- Hi.

So he says: we finally get back
together and she gets hit by a bus.

This isn't a joke?

No. My cousin's girlfriend
got hit by a bus last night.

I'm sorry. How is she doing?

She's got a broken leg.

- Smooth, John, smooth.
- I thought it was a joke.

What's so funny?

- You had to be there.
- What've you got?

Since your press conference last night
we've received about 50 calls.

We've got people accusing everyone
from their mother-in-law to the mayor.

Well, the mayor might not be
a bad lead.

I got someone in my office you
guys should talk to.

- Who is he?
- FBI profiler.

- C'mon, Jack...
- OK, he's trying to help,

- alright? This guy solved a lot of cases.
- What is he gonna tell me?

I'm looking for a white male...

- 25 to 45 years old?
- Just talk to him!

Prudhomme, Hollinsworth,
agent Wingate.

Nice to meet you.

I understand you might
have something for us.

Well, I thought maybe
I could help...

though I've never come across
a serial killer who's moved...

at such an accelerated pace.

How do you know what pace
he's moving at?

Your captain let me
look through the files.

Did he?

Based on what I've seen so far, you're looking
for someone of above average intelligence.

White male, 25 to 45 years old...

Something funny?

- No, no. Go on.
- I'm sorry.

He'll be middle class,
a loner, not married.

Those who know him will
find him aloof but cordial.

Although he prefers isolation,
he has the ability to navigate...

in social settings when he has to.

He will have strong moral
and religious convictions.

Obviously his moral convictions
don't include murder.

He doesn't view what he's
doing as murder.

To him, he's making
sacrifices to God.

What point is there in keeping his
victims conscious while he mutilates them?

Christ suffered on the cross.

He wants his victims to suffer.

But leaving clues behind
puts him at risk.

He want us to know what he's doin'.

True. But there's more
to it than that.

If he merely wanted you
to know what he was doing...

there're more direct ways to inform you.

The clues he leaves give
him a sense of power.

And shows he's in control.

Prudhomme, this fax just came in for you.
I think you should take a look at it.

You have heard the voice of the prophet
as he prepares the throne of grace...

and you've twisted his message.

Those who die, do so
for the glory of God.

Spread the true gospel
before the end...

of the Boanerges, or you shall
be judged by me.

What makes you think this is him?

Read the bottom.

So you do not doubt... Inside
the third one is the key to the mount.

May I? Third one?

Ordway.

Ordway, James.

Come in.

Where's Ordway's body?

I just finished the autopsy.
I'm making out the report now.

You can have it in... you can
have it by this afternoon.

- Anything unusual?
- No. Not really.

Except all he'd been
eating was olives.

His stomach was full of them.

- Mount of olives.
- It's him.

See ya.

This guy is fucking with us.

He let you into his world
so you can publicise his work.

He knows you know
what he's doing.

Your failure to acknowledge it
has angered him.

So he's going to kill again tomorrow
and there's nothing we can do to stop him.

Can you run a search through
your database...

and see if you have anything
similar on file?

No problem. Here's my direct
line at the Bureau...

and my cell phone number
will be on the back.

Call me if there's anything I can do.

Thank you.

(engine starts)

They've already got a name for him.

It sells papers.

What do you think makes
someone this crazy?

Who knows?

Problems mount,
pressures grow...

One day you start to slip
through the cracks...

and there's no one there
to catch you.

Happens every day.

I'll tell you one thing for sure,
I'll feel a hell of a lot better...

knowing that he's drooling on
himself in a padded cell somewhere.

You're assuming we're
gonna catch him?

What the hell's that
supposed to mean?

Assuming we're gonna catch him?

It means that either we'll catch him or
he'll finish what he is doing...

and disappear like Jack the Ripper
and the Zodiac Killer.

Or, come Easter, he'll realize all he has
is a rottin' corpse in his garage...

So he'd figure he fucked up
his little recipe...

and start all over
again for next year.

I don't know if he really believes
he's creating the second coming.

I think it's more symbolic.

He's sending a message.

- Yeah? To whom?
- To us. The world.

The guy is a fucking nutcase!

All this religious mumbo jumbo
is bullshit!

You don't think the guy is at home
right now, reading these headlines...

and jerking himself off?
He loves the attention...

He wants the attention!

I'm not doubting he's insane.

But don't discount his intelligence.

You think you just go out
and you find a 33 year old guy...

named Peter who happens
to be a fisherman?

Or someone named Matthew
who is a tax collector?

Don't you see planning
that's got into this? The time.

Stop admiring him. He kills people.
Let's not lose sight of that.

I admire the intellect,
not the action.

Do you know how difficult
it is to get away with murder?

There're 50 ways
to fuck up a crime.

And if you can think of 20
of them you're a genius.

So far, this guy is batting
a thousand.

(muttering) ...just to find thy words...
the faith of the son of God...

Spread the true gospel before
the end of the... Boanerges...

You shall be judged by him.

Boanerges...

From the Greek, sons of thunder...

an epithet used by Jesus.

Sons of thunder...
Seems to be 2 people or more.

(TV playing)

(car starts, drives away)

Who is it?

It's John Prudhomme!

- John, it's very late.
- I'm sorry, Father.

I need to talk to you,
it's important.

- Well, come in.
- Thanks.

Is everything alright?

Yeah. I need some information
on the... Bonaerges.

- The what?
- The Boa-ner-ges.

Oh, it's pronounced Boa-ner-ges.

Yeah, whatever. I... I know it
means sons of thunder.

Whose sons?

- Zebedee.
- Who is he?

He's only mentioned in the Bible
in relation to his sons.

- Yeah, where in the Bible?
- You should know this.

Listen Father, I don't have time
for a Bible class right now.

Well, come with me.

Here it is.

Mark, 3:17.

James is son of Zebedee
and John, the brother of James...

and he surnamed them the Boanerges...
which is the sons of thunder.

John, the brother of James?

Yes.

Thank you, Father.

Ordway has a brother.
His name is John.

He's going to be the fourth victim.
I need an address, fast. Thanks.

Hollinsworth: John Ordway, photographer.
He has a work studio...

- at 1432, Baker Street.
- Home address?

The studio is his home address.

OK, I'm ten minutes away.

Call him and tell him to lock himself in
and wait for me.

I'll meet you there.

I talked to him and told
him to lock himself in.

Call for backup and
check the perimeter.

Detective Hollinsworth requesting
backup at 1432, Baker Street.

(floor creaking)

(man gasping) help me.

(shouts)

Hang on! Hang on!

Oh God! Hang on!

Hang on!

(mumbles)

Oh my God!

God!

I think he's still here.

He's here! He's here!

- Are you OK?
- He fucking got by me!

Where did he go?

Let's split up!

(siren wailing)

(snarling)

(tires screeching)

- I want a 10-block perimeter set.
- I'm on it.

Close the roof!

(electricity crackling)

(gunshot)

You two take the alley.
We'll take the street!

(wincing)

Freeze!

Put your hands on your head!

He's got a gun!

Drop the weapon!
Drop the weapon, now!

Put it down!

Drop it and put up
your hands right now!

Don't shoot!

(gasps)

- (panting)
- No! No! No!

Shit!

The gun was taped to his fuckin' hand!

No!

Get an ambulance!
Get an ambulance!

- Take it easy!
- God!

No! Oh, no!

I can't... I can't feel my leg.

- I can't feel my leg!
- Can't you give him something?

- I did. It doesn't seem to work!
- I can't see my leg!

- Can you see my leg?
- Hold on!

We'll be at the hospital
in few minutes.

Andy, 2 boys are sharing
the hospital room...

so, one boy asked the other
what he's there for...

so the boy says: circumcision...

The other boy says: Oh man,
I'd that done right after I was born...

and I couldn't walk for a year.

It was... It's the worst fucking
joke I ever heard, John.

I know.

- How are you, Jack?
- Sara.

- How is he?
- We don't know yet.

Bone's completely shattered.

We've stopped the bleeding
but we'll have to amputate.

There has to be something
else you can do.

If there was, detective,
I'd be doing it.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- How you doin'?
- I'm OK.

They wanna take my leg.
They wanna take my leg.

I know.

Don't let 'em take my leg.

Please, don't let 'em take my leg.

John, please, don't let 'em
take my leg!

I'm scared. I'm scared.

I'm... I'm scared!

What the hell is he doing?

It's a... an old Cajun superstition.

When someone's suffering,
you put a knife under the bed...

and... it cuts the pain in half.

What are you doin' here?

I'm working.

John, go home. Get some rest.

I'm not tired.

In my office.

John, I want you to
take a few days off.

We can't waste any more time.

That's really how you see it?
Isn't it?

If you're not here, the rest of us are
just plodding along in the dark.

- I didn't...
- You seeing those guys out there?

Those are detectives.

They do the same job as you.

I know that.

I also know we
had him last night.

He was standing in the
same room with me. And got away.

Don't take me off this, Jack.

Alright.

Thanks.

What do you think he's gonna do?
I mean, you interrupted him last night.

He didn't get what he came for.

If he wants to stay
on schedule for Easter...

He's gonna have to
make up for lost time.

So are you.

John.

- We just want you to know that...
- Thanks guys.

Thank you.

(phone rings)

There's a Dr. Nestler
on line one for you.

- Hi, doctor.
- man: We've a problem over here...

that I thought you
should know about.

I thought the operation
went fine.

It did.

I... I don't understand.

One of our orderlies was
found unconscious down there.

Someone beat the hell out of him.

- I'll send an officer over.
- The police are already here.

Detective...

The orderly was carrying
an appendage downstairs.

Somebody stole your partner's leg.

Can I see him?

He's still pretty groggy.
Try not to be long.

Thanks.

I wanted to stop by
and see how you were doing.

You need anything?

Yeah. A leg.

You got one?

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Hey, you know... When I was
coming out of the alley...

I was... I was...
I could hear you screaming.

I just... I never imagined that
you were screaming at me.

I must have been pretty out of it,
from the stunt gun.

I just get...

I just get moving towards
the sound of your voice.

I love being a cop.

It's all I ever wanted to be.

Far back as I can remember.

A cop.
Helping people.

Righting wrongs.

You know what I mean?
That's the finest thing you can be.

Oh man... Oh man...

What am I gonna do now, John?

What am I gonna do now?

You can go, you know?
You can go.

I just want to be
left alone, alright?

Go on. Go!

(rings)

- Wingate.
- John Prudhomme.

Thank you.

You’re lettin' him inside your
head. You can't do that.

How am I not to do that?

You divorce yourself from
the emotions.

What?

Turn it off like a light switch?

Right now, there is a cop...

a friend...

Who will never be the same
because of me.

You're doing exactly
what he wants you to do.

You're concentrating on your guilt.

I got my fucking partner
shot last night!

What the fuck are you
looking at?

How can I help you, Prudhomme?

I assume there are others
you can talk to...

- if you just wanted to vent.
- Sorry.

I think last night was my best shot
at catching this guy and I fucked it up.

I don't know where
to go from here.

If you can't go forwards,
go backwards.

Back up. Who is he?
What do you know about him?

He wants to kill?

I mean, he's insane.

I've spent years studying these guys.
They've all got their excuses.

Fathers who beat them,
mothers who raped them...

Voices tellin' them what to do...

The bottom line is,
except for a very small percentage...

they all know
they're committing murder.

He thinks he's rebuilding the body
of Christ. If that is not insane...

His actions don't define
his state of mind.

Look at Dahmer, Casey, Bundy...

They all committed horrible
acts. But they were sane.

The fact that he's careful
not to leave any evidence behind...

.. shows he's aware there are
consequences to his actions.

Look...

I don't care if he's sane or not...

I just wanna catch him.

You couldn't catch a cold,
the way you're thinking.

Thanks.

Stop focusing on
his state of mind.

Look for the pattern.
Whatever he thinks he's doing...

or creating, that's what
drives him to murder.

What he is doing isn't as
important as why he is doing it.

If you can figure that out
it'll lead you to him.

- You really should eat.
- No, thanks.

This came for you
while you were out.

How is Hollinsworth doing?

- You didn't see him?
- Yeah, I saw him.

- Anything else?
- Nothing.

The computer gave us a couple of names
that could be our boy, but...

they're all in prison
or in the loony bin.

It would appear I
underestimated you.

Sometimes, I'm too clever
for my own good.

It won't happen again.

You must admit there's a strange
irony to last night's events.

In the end, I got what I wanted.

John would have been better
but Andrew was an apostle also.

I was hoping not to
make this personal.

I warned you that
you would be judged...

if you did not tell the
world of my work.

Your lack of contrition...

leaves me no choice
but to punish you.

Your penitence shall be remorse.

Remorse for the death
of your wife.

There's a unit in the area!

Send them over, now!
Get out of the way!

- (horn honking)
- (tires screeching)

(horns honking)

- Sir, you have to stop right there!
- I live here!

- Believe me, you don't wanna go inside!
- Let me go!

John...

I'm taking care of this now.

You don't need to see this.

No. No. No!

John, c'mon. C'mon!

- (crying) No, oh, no.
- You don't need to be here. Step outside.

(wailing) No! No!

C'mon, John.
Step outside!

John, don't touch anything.

This is a crime scene.

Jenny!

Jenny.

(camera shutter clicking)

I'm pulling you off this.
It's gone too far.

He came to my house...

to kill my wife.

Which is why you're
off this thing.

It's personal now.

You can't do this.

It's done. I'm giving it
to Rousch and Scholfield.

- no. no!
- (wailing)

I went out to get
something special for dinner.

Jenny was tired from the trip.

We don't have to talk
about it now.

Why would someone do
such a thing?

It was him.

The guy who is killing
all these people.

He was trying to hurt me.

By killing Jenny?

Oh, my God!
He was trying to kill me!

I thought I'd lost you.

I want you to go stay with
your mother until this is over.

But, John...

Sara, please.

Good evening.

As it has been, our top story
tonight continues to be...

the ongoing search
for a serial killer.

Chicago Police Department has
released part of a tape...

sent to them by
the "Numbers Killer".

"It would appear
I underestimated you.

Sometimes I'm too clever
for my own good.

It won't happen again".

Anyone who recognizes
this voice...

is asked to contact the
Homicide Division...

of the Chicago Police
Department.

In other news tonight,
Chicago City officials have released...

last year's crime statistics...

What's up?

A woman just called
from the Beaumont Hotel...

Said she recognizes the
voice in the tape.

I'm gonna want to take
a couple of bodies with me.

Take whoever you need.

- Let's go.
- Yeah.

Scholfield.

Prudhomme.

He said whoever I needed.

- I'm looking for Dolores Koontz.
- What did she do?

Chief... This ain't
an interview, buddy.

4-D.

Nice smell in here.

It's like a goddamn latrine.

- Miss Koontz?
- Yeah.

I'm Detective Rousch.
You called us?

Yeah. I sure did.

While I was watching the news
this morning, I heard the tape.

As soon as I heard it I thought
to myself, that's... Mr. Breslauer.

You know his first name?

First name? No.

I just always called
him Mr. Breslauer.

He seems like a very nice guy.

But I bet a lot of those serial
killers are like that, huh?

You sure it was his voice?

Yeah, enough to call.

Where can we find him?

Down the hall. 4-J.

If it is him, do I like
get anything?

Appreciation from the people
of Chicago.

(knock on door)

Mr. Breslauer, it's the police.
Would you open the door, please?

(doorknob turns)

Mr. Breslauer, we'd like to talk to
you. Please, can we come in?

We're here because someone thinks
you might have sent us a tape.

A tape, huh?

Mr. Breslauer, I'm gonna
read you a couple of sentences...

I'd appreciate if you repeat 'em
back to me.

It would appear I
underestimated you.

Sometimes I'm too clever
for my own good.

It would appear I
underestimated you.

Sometimes I'm too clever
for my own good.

It won't happen again.

You must admit there's a strange
irony to last night's events.

But in the end, I got
what I wanted.

John would have been better but
Andrew was an apostle also.

Should I do the rest?

- He's not the guy.
- What? Did you hear his voice?

He made the tape...

but he's not the guy
we're looking for.

He is blind.

Mr. Breslauer,
you made the tape?

- Yes.
- Why?

- Someone paid me 50 dollars.
- Who? Do you know him?

Some guy I met in the park.

Said he was working on
some kind of movie...

and he was looking
for interesting voices.

I knew that was a load
of bullshit...

But 50 bucks is 50 bucks.

Thanks.

He's smart. He talks to us
without using his voice.

The guy who made the tape
can't identify him.

I'm getting the feeling we're
never gonna catch this guy.

- They just found number 5.
- (siren wailing)

- Hey, John?
- Yeah.

You got change for a dollar?

Come with me.

What are we looking for?

Peter Balcour had five
quarters in his pocket.

So did Leesan.
What about the others?

- James Ordway too.
- John Ordway also.

So did Wells. Five victims,
all with five quarters in their pockets.

No way that's a coincidence.

Wait.

To finish what he's doing
he needs six bodies.

Six bodies with five quarters
each is thirty quarters.

Thirty pieces of silver!

He thinks he's Judas?

No. He's letting us know
why he's doing it.

- He's atoning.
- John?

- Take a look at this.
- What is it?

Homicide report from Tennessee.

Two and a half years ago, police
in Clarksdale found a 33 year old man...

with his head cut off.
Victim's name was Philip Weir.

- He was an apostle.
- Yeah.

How did you get this?

- FBI computer spilled it out.
- Just now?

What do you mean just now?

We called over Quantico
about three days ago.

But I asked Wingate
three weeks ago!

I'm detective Prudhomme.
I wanna see agent Wingate.

Agent Wingate is in
a meeting right now.

I don't care what he's doing.
I wanna see him now!

I think you better get out here.

Have a seat, please.

No, thank you.
I don't wanna sit down.

I wanna see Wingate.

Is there a problem here?

What the fuck?

Yes, there is a problem!

I wanna see agent Wingate!

I'm agent Wingate.

Didn't anybody check his I.D.?

Desk sergeant said he saw it.

It looked good to him.

Somebody this clever wouldn't
have any problem getting a card.

A badge you can find anywhere.

What about the office
number he gave?

It was a message centre,
rented by mail with a money order.

- Cell phone number?
- Cloned.

If we get a print and it's
on file, we'll I.D. him.

We still have one thing
on our side.

He doesn't know we know.

- Wingate.
- Prudhomme.

- How's it going?
- Good.

We may have found a few things
that might put us a little closer.

What things?

I'd like to run them by
you here sometime.

- I'm kind of busy today...
- It would only take about half hour.

I'll meet you in two hours
over that pizza place.

- Great, I appreciate it.
- No problem.

We got him.

- Are you guys ready?
- Ten-Four.

- Moltz?
- Roger.

He's here.

He's crossing the street.
Dark blue suit.

Got him.

- Take him!
- Freeze!

Put your hands over
your head. Now!

Put your hands on top
of your head!

Get down! Down!

(shouting)

Get on your fucking knees, now!

Get on your knees. Now!

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used
against you in a court of law.

You have the right
to an attorney.

If you can't afford one
it will be too fucking bad.

Let's get this prick
into the fucking car.

It's just a matter of time until
your prints tell us who you are.

Only if I have a
criminal record in Illinois...

which I do not.

I'd like to know why I'm here.

Because you murdered five people.

Really?

What, may I ask, is the evidence you're
using to support this claim?

Do you have any prints?
Any trace evidence? Physical evidence?

Witnesses? Motive?
Anything?

One thing that connects
me to these crimes?

You don't have to answer.
I already know. I've seen the files.

You think you're really
clever, don't you?

Let's talk about the
Clarksdale murder.

I'm afraid I don't know
what you're talking about.

Oh yes, you do.
You were there.

What was it, a practice round?

Do you really think you're
doing God's work?

If God were to call
upon someone...

Do you really think he'd choose a
pathetic little worm like you?

Why, Detective Prudhomme, I do believe
you're trying to provoke me.

- Listen to me.
- No! You listen to me.

I'm only talking with you

because it gives me something to
do before my attorney arrives.

The truth is, I'll be out
of here in 48 hours.

You know it and I know it.

Of course, you and your
partner will follow me...

Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot!
Your partner can't walk anymore...

- since his leg got blown off?
- Shut up!

I'd imagine you carry a tremendous
amount of guilt for that.

Shut your mouth!

He trusted you but when he
ran towards you for safety...

Prudhomme, outside.
Now!

I enjoyed our little
chat, detective. I truly did.

He's a cocky little prick,
isn't he?

He knows we have nothing.

He also knows the law.

If we don't get something in 48 hours,
we got to cut him loose.

I'm sorry about last week.

It wasn't your fault.

You know that.

It's OK.

They say you got him.
Who is he?

We don't know. We've plastered
his face all over the news.

Hundreds of people are calling.

We feed the names
into the computer and...

wait for a print match.

- But it's him?
- It's him.

You can't let this
fucker walk, John.

I won't.

I won't.

Not guilty.

Bail?

Your honour, the State is
requesting that bail be denied.

On what grounds?

We do not know the
defendant's true identity...

therefore we cannot determine
his ties to the community.

We feel that the risk of
flight is great.

The fact that the police
cannot prove nor disprove...

my client's identity is not
grounds to deny bail.

The truth is Mr. Wingate
has been held for nearly two days...

on a probable cause
on another matter.

Is this true, Mr. Galloway?

Yes, your honour. He is
considered a prime suspect...

in regards to the recent
spree of murders.

I see no murder
charges before me.

The only charge I see is
impersonating a federal officer.

Bail is set at twenty
thousand dollars.

We'll have a ten minute recess.

Gentleman, would you
approach the bench, please?

Mr. Galloway, what exactly do you
think you're doing out there?

Just trying to stop a murderer
from going free.

There are procedures for that.

As a district attorney, I should not
have to tell you this.

I will not have this
courtroom used...

for your personal
agenda, Mr. Galloway.

Judge, my client is
ready to post bail.

I'd like to request his
immediate release.

I still have six hours
left to hold him.

And I intend to use them.

Six hours, Mr. Galloway.

You either file murder charges
or you release him.

Janice, I sent photos of a man!

Sex change operation.
OK, thank you very much.

When was the last
time you saw him?

40 years ago!
I'll check on it. Thanks.

- The killings in Tennessee?
- Ask him how far he is from Clarksdale.

Ma'am, how far are you
from Clarksdale?

- 20 miles.
- Ma'am I need you to...

Gerald Demus.
Rush it through...

FBI, Tennessee Police
and the DMV.

No, thank you.
I'll be going out for lunch today.

I just got off the phone
with the Sheriff's Department.

They have no record of
a Gerald Demus.

You try the neighbouring towns?

We're on it now.

I'm here for Greg Wingate.

- (phone rings)
- Yeah?

Elkins's here to
pick up Wingate.

- What? Stall him!
- How?

I don't know!
Think of something.

We're having trouble
finding the paperwork.

(ringing)

- City Court.
- Judge Seers, please.

Prudhomme, what the
hell do you think you're doing?

Wingate was supposed to
be released 15 minutes ago.

Re-cause him.

You got something you
can give right now?

- No.
- Then kick him loose.

I need a little more time.

We think we know who he is.
And if he is...

He lived 20 miles from
an identical murder 2 years ago!

We don't have any more time.

I just got a
call from Judge Seers.

She issued a writ
for his immediate release.

Thanks a lot.

You're out of here.

I want you on him
the minute he walks out the door.

If he takes a shit, I wanna know
how many times he wipes his ass.

- Sign here.
- Here?

Thanks.

- Thanks. You too.
- My pleasure.

Taxi.

He is in Sixth and Blanche.

He is headed for the
train station.

Go.

Sheriff in Woodsville, Tennessee
says he arrested...

Gerald Demus 5 years ago
for attacking the town minister.

- Prints are on their way over.
- Get that out.

- You think he's leaving?
- No.

He's not finished yet.

woman over PA: Amtrak train no.
27 to Columbus

(coughs)

Cap, prints are in.
Lab's working on it now.

Can you do this faster?

Yes. We got a match.
Take him.

Demus? This is the police.

Stand up and
open the door slowly.

Do it now!

Shit!
Fuck!

What? Everyone move in.
I want this place closed down now!

- Seal the door.
- Got it.

Hold it, please. No one must
leave. This is a police emergency.

Shit!

Hey! Sorry.

Hey! Hey you!
Hey you, stop!

(screaming)

Get down! Get down!

Stay down!

Get out of my way!

Freeze!

Demus!

Motherfucker!

Freeze!

Motherfucker!
Get out of the way!

(horn honking)

I lost him.
Shit!

5 years ago, Demus attacks
the local minister in Woodsville.

The minister refuses to
press charges...

so they kick him loose.

But they still arrested him.

Why weren't his prints
in the system?

Woodsville is a small department.

They only came online with
the Tennessee database 3 years ago.

Even then, they only entered
recent arrests into the system.

Hundreds of millions
of dollars in computers...

and we I.D. the guy
because some old lady...

in Willingston, Tennessee,
is watching on TV?

Incredible!

Two and a half years later,
Demus kills Phillip Weir.

Why'd he stop?

Because 2 weeks after the murder
he was picked up in Tulsa.

Wandering the streets,
talking to the pigeons.

He spent the next 2 years
in the state mental hospital.

They just released him
3 months ago.

Why didn't he stay in Tulsa?

(electricity crackles)

(yelling)

Scholfield!

Welcome.

Thomas Heckert, 33.

That's the boyfriend, works the
graveyard in the Memorial Medical Centre.

Found him this morning
when he came in from work.

- How long has he been dead?
- A few hours.

He took the torso.
Left the legs, the arms and the head.

You think this is the end of it?

I hope so.

This didn't have to happen.

All you had to do was
hold Demus a little longer.

Don't lay this at my door!

This man would still be alive
if your guys didn't lose him!

- Yeah, right.
- Fuck off!

You've seen this?

They're running a pictorial
of the crime scenes.

Jesus! Next they'll
be giving tours.

This isn't right.

- What isn't right?
- This photo.

When we sealed the crime scene,
all the windows and shutters were closed.

Look at the upstairs window.
It's open.

Where's the best place to hide?

Somewhere we've already looked.

Go upstairs.

Go, go! Move.
Move! Go!

Clear!

(flies buzzing)

Sweet mother of God!

- (coughing)
- Prudhomme?

You better get in here.

(gasps)

Shit!

(coughing)

Prudhomme!
Check this out upstairs!

Behold the glory of God!

Sinners, take heed!

Soon, the hand of judgment
shall be upon ye.

Motherfucker!

Alright. We leave a team here
in case he comes back.

He'll be back.

But when he does,
someone else will be dead.

Rib spreaders.
Used to open the chest.

Don't even tell me that.

Yes. He's going after a heart.

Tomorrow is Easter.

We need to search every hospital.

We're looking for a woman who gives
birth to a son after midnight.

- You know how many hospitals...
- Her name will be Mary.

(phone rings)

I've got a Mary at St. Paul.
She's in labour now.

Girl or boy?

I don't know. The parents didn't
want to know the results of the ultrasound.

You and Scholfield go
to see that one.

Thanks.

- Got it!
- What?

Oak Park Memorial
has a Mary Dominguez.

- She just gave birth to a boy.
- Let's go!

(sirens wail)

(phone ringing)

God!

(baby crying)

Hold it! C'mon!

- You're OK?
- Shit! Yeah. Go, go!

- Call for backup!
- Go, go, go!

It's over.
Give me the baby.

(baby cries)

No! No!

It's kind of an instinct
predicament, isn't it?

Put down the gun.

Put it down!

OK.

I would imagine this is a painful situation
for you, with already losing one child.

It's over! We've been inside
the house and took the body.

Sacrilege! Sacrilege!

You're nothing now.
Nothing but another lunatic.

One year from now, no one
will even remember you name.

- If I drop this child, they will.
- No!

He is my last offering.

No! No!
(shouts)

It's time for us to die.

Motherfucker!

- There you are, Mr. Prudhomme.
- Thank you.

- Are you alright?
- Yes.

John, the baby's parents
would like to thank you.

- Thank you for the life of my son.
- I'm glad he's alright.

Please, take this.

Thank you.

I spoke to the doc.

You're gonna be out of
the field for at least 3 months.

Its not important.
I need some time.

I need to pick up some
of the pieces in my life.

- I love you.
- I love you too.

Hey man, come on in.
Just in time for a test drive.

- You're looking good, Andy.
- No, man. I look terrible.

I met a guy who ran the Boston
marathon with one of these things.

When are you
coming back to work?

I'm coming back. Don't get
me wrong, John. I'm comin' back.

I'm comin' back but not sit
on one of those damn desks, either.

Guys ski with these things,
you know?

Fuck.

- Let me help.
- I'm OK, John.

Listen, seriously...

If this is gonna work for real,
you gotta give me a chance, alright?

You gotta give me
a chance to come back.

I'll be good as new.
But you gotta give me a chance.

You may have to pick up
a fair share of the legwork.

But I will be back.

Whatever you say, partner.