Alcatraz (2012): Season 1, Episode 2 - Ernest Cobb - full transcript

The next returning Alcatraz inmate is Ernest Cobb, a crack-shot who shot series of crows and people in different cities all over he US before being arrested. He deliberately shot a guard in the leg to be relocated to Alcatraz, hell-bent on a quiet, private cell. Warden Edwin James sadistically kept denying him isolation, leading to more inside crimes. Diego 'Doc' Soto's knowledge proves invaluable to catch Cobb before he makes his third victims batches before moving to another time, but the stress and danger of the chase make him doubt if he's fit as SFPD partner. Emerson Hauser remains frustratingly secretive and again seizes the recaptured villain for openly hostile 'interrogation', like Jack Sylvane's despite his claim to ember nothing.

[Buzzer sounds]

(Man)
Hey, we got a new fish, boys.

(Second man)
Hey, welcome to the big house.

[Overlapping shouting]

[Scattered applause]

We'll get you
in a cell,

but first the boss wants
to cast an eyeball on you.

The warden likes to welcome
the new fish in person.

But he's king screw,

and you'd do well
not to piss him off.

Outside?



Brisk air'll do wonders
for a Johnson.

[Gunshot]

[Reloads rifle]

500 yards.

That's a heck
of a shot, son.

What was the final
body count? 15?

16.

Me, I can barely
hit these cans at 20.

[Reloads rifle]

Tell me, how do you
pick one?

When they're all just
little dots in your scope.

A feeling.

Word from McNeil island

has you taking pot shots



at a guard with
a homemade single-shot.

Is that right?

In the leg.

Which, given your skills,
was purposive.

I wanted transfer,
not murder.

Ten years on the rock,

you'd be the first
who'd come willingly.

What made our little island
your favorite destination?

A private cell.

My own private cell.

Mile and a half,

from here
to the shore.

In case you were
getting ideas.

Situate him
in his private cell.

[Reloads rifle]

Mr. Cobb...

Any pointers?

Drop your
shoulder.

[Cell door closes]

[Clears throat]

There are 47 slats
in the picket fence.

Four,

seven, one, two,

three, four, one.

Please, let's just...
Let's just not.

Come on. I won't
shake it, I promise.

- It'll be fun.
- Okay, you promise?

You have to run a register,
do inventory and stock.

It's not all
videogames

and the first crack
at DC's latest.

Got it, doc.

Hey, what's the new gig,
anyway?

I'm not supposed
to talk about it.

Okay.

It's a task force.

Okay.

FBI, mostly,
some police.

But I can't talk about it.

I'm a civilian authority.

Sounds cool.

Oh, it's cool,
all right.

It's super-cool.

[Doorbell ringing]

Oh, hot chick.
Don't look,

don't look,
don't look.

You looked.

That's my partner,

from the task force.

No way.

Way.

Morning, doc.

Go stock something.

You want?

No, thanks.
There's scary stuff in Dim Sum.

Sucks for you.

So...

Read your book
last night.

"Tommy Mansen,"
my grandfather,

"inmate 2002.

Life without parole
for murdering his wife."

A couple typos
in there, but, uh...

What?

Kidding.

Where's the rest?

Rest of what?

There's like six paragraphs
for the other inmates,

and only one paragraph
for Tommy.

It's all
I could find.

Did he really
kill your partner?

Yeah, we were
chasing after him

and didn't even
know it.

Weird.
Chasing your own grandfather.

I wonder,
who's next?

One, two,
three, four.

One, two, three, four.

There's 47 slats
in the picket fence.

Four, seven, one,
two, three, four,

one, two...

[Silenced gunshot]

[Yelling in the distance]

Two, three, four,

five, six, seven...

[Silenced gunshot]

-47, 47, 47...
- No!

[Silencer shot]

Hey, Hopper.

Becca, hey.

How's the new gig
with the feds?

Oh, you know.

So what's
going on?

Some kind
of sniper.

SWAT's searching
everything at 750 yards.

Area's
on lockdown.

Who's
the ride-along?

He's a famous
comic book writer.

The victims, are they,
you know, still here?

Look, homicides
are never easy.

Well, before I met you,
it wasn't really an issue.

I'm just saying.

You have to detach yourself
from everything you see.

Don't let your emotions
cloud your judgment.

Okay?

Who've we got?

You tell me.

(Rebecca)
Dead crows?

Ernest Cobb.
Gotta be.

Wichita sniper.

He learned to shoot
killing crows

for farmers.

It's how
he made a living

after he left
the orphanage.

All the kill shots
were to the heart.

Oh, boy. He does three
shootings in three days,

then he goes
underground.

So we've got
two teenagers

and a guy
in his mid-30s.

Was that
Cobb's M.O.?

Doc?

Doc?

How's the new partner
working out?

Hey, doc.

Take long,
deep breaths.

Cobb's shootings
were always random.

No M.O., as far as his
victims were concerned.

Random.

That just means
we don't have

enough information yet.

Or aren't sharing it.

[Sighs]

Maybe I'm not
cut out for this.

You know what kind
of rifle Cobb used,

back in the day?

It's Winchester,
model 70, I think.

No. No.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Uses the same bullets
as an M-40.

So the S.F.P.D.
is assuming

that he's using
a modern weapon,

but Cobb's maximum range
with a Winchester

is what?
Probably 500 yards?

Not 750.

So the buildings they're
searching are too far away.

Nice work.

But that hill looks
about right.

Guy on the midway...

Boom.

Ferris wheel...

Bam bam.

[Shots ring out]

Casings should have
popped this way.

I don't know,
Rebecca.

He would've
cleaned up afterward.

The guy was
kind of O.C.D.

Okay.

What?

Alcatraz.

Another killer
back from the Rock?

We've got two days
to catch him.

(Hauser)
On March 21st, 1963,

Alcatraz
officially closed.

All the prisoners were
transferred off the island.

Only that's not
what happened.

Not at all.

ALCATRAZ
EP. 2 - Ernest Cobb

[chatter outside]

[Whistle blows]

Inmates on the tier!

(Man)
Tier two on the ready!

Hey, buddy!

I see you.
I know you're in there.

You can't hide,
buddy.

Leave me alone.

Mail call today.

Got a beauty
from the missus.

She's staying with her sister
and her sister's husband,

who I bet a Lincoln is trying
to poke her in the laundry room.

Anyways, they're
asking for rent,

which request
the missus passes to me.

Even from a distance
she is a piece of work.

Already she sent
my entire shop salary.

These damn chicks.
I gotta...

No!

[Whistle blows]

[Chair crashes]

[Alarm sounding]

That poor bastard.

Name's Jack Sylvane.

Where does he go?

Solitary.

That's the last
he sees of any of us.

Do you know him?

No.

He's back.

Just like
you're back.

Why?
Are you working together?

Where have you been, Jack,
for the past 50 years?

Who's watching me?

You disappeared from Alcatraz
in 1963... how did you get here?

I don't know.

One minute,
i was in my cell,

and then I...

And then I wasn't.

When you
were captured,

they found this
in your pocket.

Do you know
what it opens?

Did someone
ask you to get it?

I...don't...know.

[Beeping]

He's telling
the truth.

(Lucy)
All right, Jack.

Let's start at the beginning
again, shall we?

I found Cobb's
storage box.

This isn't the only door
without a handle, you know?

There's another one
in the file room.

And there are three buttons
in the elevator

that you can't press
without a key.

He's got
a whole operation,

and we're only
a tiny part of it.

Now you're the main part
of our part,

so what does he
need me for?

- I'm just...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Who caught
Jack Sylvane, doc?

Hauser's people?
No.

We did.

Cobb spent more time
in solitary confinement

than any other
inmate on record.

Any issues with authority or
had trouble following the rules?

How'd they catch him
the last time?

Someone recognized him from
the FBI's most wanted list.

But not before he shot his way
through eight cities,

from Denver
to Anchorage.

Yeah, I don't
think we can

put a time-traveling
sniper's face

on the most wanted
list.

Yeah,
probably not.

So...

The hammer markings
on the casing you found

are a match...

For Cobb's
gun of choice.

How could you possibly

get a ballistics report
in two hours?

Does this lead
to something concrete?

Old rifle.

He would've had to get it
at a specialty gun shop.

Then why are you
still here?

[Sighs]

You wanted children.
Go babysit.

You know, Emerson,
they're not so bad.

(Madsen) Tell me Hauser isn't
the nutcase I think he is.

He's a little prickly
sometimes,

but he's
all right.

You've been
with him a while?

With him,
without him.

Whoa, Call of Duty:
Urban Warfare in 3D.

Think I got a second amendment
contact high.

Hello,
Whitten.

Detective Madsen.

What an unspeakable
pleasure.

You know, I thought the ATF
took your license away.

All my wife's licenses
are up-to-date.

Thank you, ma'am.
I just work here.

Never seen him.

Sorry.

Oh, wow.
That's a relief.

'Cause this guy's a suspect
in this morning's shooting,

so whoever sold him the gun
is gonna be in a world of hurt.

Glad it's not you.

You know what?

This individual did,
in fact,

come to the store
a couple of days ago.

Picked up
an old Winchester.

Model 70.

Prepaid credit card.
No name or address.

You know that
without looking?

Do you know
how many 70s I've sold

in the past ten years?

One.

You know the drill.

Security footage,
please.

Ooh, pause it there.

(Diego)
That a room key?

Yeah, not
that many hotels

still use that kind of
room marker any more.

Have to figure out
which one.

[The Platters'
The Great Pretender]

- ♪ Oh, yes,
I'm the great pretender ♪

- ♪ ooh ooh ooh

- ♪ pretending
that I'm doing well ♪

- ♪ ooh ooh ooh
- ♪ my need is such

Give us
some space.

- ♪ I pretend too much

♪ I'm lonely,
but no one can tell... ♪

First prison where
I eat the same as you.

Full bellies make a man
less likely to cause upset.

You eat alone.

What was that, son?
You need to speak up.

Alone.
You eat alone.

Oh.

"Honorable warden
Edwin James,

"I respectfully and kindly
request a transfer

"to deep lock
in a solitary cell,

"the purpose of which is
for me to take meals in private

"and abstain from
communal visits to the yard.

"Also, I would prefer
to be in a cell block

where talking and
fraternization was prohibited."

Really beautiful
letter, son.

Request denied.

No.

- No?
- No.

This ain't a hotel, son.

You don't get to
pick your accommodations.

A new cell,
a quiet cell...

I'm gonna pick up
this bone now

and chew on it.

I'd prefer to
do that in private.

Please, sir.

Please. No!

No! No!
No, you can't!

- So we sign in here?
- Mm-hmm.

Great, may I?

Can I ask you
something?

Do you know how
these guys are coming back,

and who's... you know...
behind it?

'Cause I have some theories
involving wormholes,

but how is it

you seem to just
accept everything

that's happening,
like it's not

the biggest thing
ever?

How I feel
about what's happening

doesn't change the fact
that it is happening.

Thanks.

That helps a ton.

This is the place.
Manager I.D.'d Cobb.

Room 123.

I've called Hauser.
He'll be here momentarily.

No, no, no.

We can't risk Cobb
slipping away.

Stay behind until
I say it's clear.

[Knocking]

Police!

Clear!

There's 47 slats
in the picket fence.

Four, seven.

One, two.

Lucy, get down!

Oh, my God.
Oh, my God!

Doc, get out of here!
Call an ambulance!

Come on!
Go!

Stay with me, Lucy.

Stay with me, okay?

[Police sirens]

[Tires screech]

[Police radio chatter]

Her pulse is weak.

She's lost
a lot of blood.

[Ambulance radio chatter]

The blood pressure's
dropping.

Where are you
taking her?

St. Mary's.

[Siren blares]

What happened?

She was at the window.

He must have been
sitting on the room,

watching,
waiting for us.

Whose fault is that?

He played us,

like he knew
we were coming.

Do these guys know
we're chasing them?

What does
that matter?

Look, if I knew
how they got here

or what they want,

maybe this wouldn't
have happened.

Stop...talking!

This is
what I know,

that Cobb is
still out there,

and as long as he is,

he will continue to kill,

and that is all
you need to know.

[Breathing hard]

[Grunts]

[Grunts]

[Breathes hard]

[Breathes hard]

She's alive.

But she's in a coma.

Doctor says
it might be temporary,

but it also might be
not so temporary.

Hello, Jack.

Was she a target?

I don't know.

Was she a target?

Answer me.

I don't know.

That's a shame.

Maybe Dr. Beauregard
can jog your memory.

This is weird.

And awful.

The only thing we can do
to help Lucy now

is to find Cobb, Okay?

Okay.

What's that?

Those are
the cities

where Cobb
shot people.

Lucy must have set up
a database on the '63s.

[Computer beep]

Those are
the first five victims.

[Computer beeps]

[Computer beeps]

Hauser said Cobb
didn't have an M.O.,

that his shootings
were random.

Yeah.

What if
they weren't?

What if he used
the randomness

to hide
his real victim?

And who was that?

There's always
a girl.

She's about 15,

16 years old,

but she's in every shooting,
just like the carnival.

Who's the 16-year-old
in his life?

I don't know.

He grew up in an orphanage.
He ran away when he was 12.

He did go looking for
his birth mom, though.

Found her
when he was 20,

but she slammed
the door in his face.

And she would have been
in her 40s, not 16.

What do they
mean to you, Cobb?

What are
you doing?

Cobb's been ahead of us
the whole time,

and I'm trying to get
ahead of him.

This was his cell.

Found a box
in the file room

filled with letters
that were never delivered.

This one's for Cobb.

Why didn't he
get it?

Well, when you're an inmate
and you want to get letters,

you have to give the warden
a list of names.

Cobb didn't
have a list.

From Eloise Monroe.

"Dear Ernest, you probably
don't remember me,

"but I was there the day
you came to find your mom,

"who's my mom, too.

"Which, I guess, means
we're brother and sister.

"I'm sorry she was
unkind to you.

"She's never been one
for surprises.

"I Hope it'll be okay
if we're pen pals,

"because I always
wanted a big brother

to look out for me.

Sincerely, Eloise."

So Cobb didn't even know
she tried to contact him.

Nope.

Looks like
you were right.

What do you mean?

So I'm Cobb, and
I finally find my mom,

I get up the courage
to go see her,

she slams the door
in my face.

But not before I see
she's got another kid

not much younger than me,
a 16-year-old girl.

And this one she actually
took the trouble to raise.

Why her and not me?
If I'm Cobb, I'm pissed.

Is Eloise
still alive?

No, I checked.

Died in a car accident
nine years ago.

Well, we know the why.
Let's find the where.

I'll keep digging.

[Sighs]

[Alarm rings]

(Man) Pier "C".
15 minutes to go.

[Whistle blows]

Bring in outside "B."

[General chatter]

On your feet.

It's time
for count.

Open 114.

[Yelling and chatter]

[Whistling and can-rattling]

There's 47 slats
in the picket fence...

One more time.

Get up.

[Mumbling quietly]

[Grunts]
Oh!

[Grunts]
Oh!

[Grunts]

Welcome to solitary.

Your days of elbow-rubbing
and hobnobbing are over.

No mess hall,

no work detail,
no talking.

Just you and
your cell, 24/7.

Open 212!

[Sighs]

Okay.

You been here
all night?

Yeah.

What's that?

Son of a bitch
made himself a scope.

Does it work?

Yeah,
it works.

Holy crap. I can see cars,
hills, people...

He just sat here,
staring at the city...

At people...
waiting.

For what?

The day he could
kill them. Come on.

[Cocks rifle]

47, 47, 47...

47, 47...

47, 47...

[Gasps]

47...

[Grunts]

[Screams]

[Crowd screaming]

Good morning.

I gotta
hand it to you.

You could have
done anything,

jumped a guard,
fire-bombed your cell,

heck, you could have
took a page

from your own playbook
and made yourself a gun.

But you showed
real smarts.

Studied
that rule book

till you found
the perfect infraction.

"Number 28,
daily routine.

"Stand by your cell door,
facing out.

Remain there till the bell
signal sounds again."

Simple.

Elegant.

You committed
the smallest breach

in the most public of ways,
and you forced my hand.

You win, son,
fair and square.

There's just one thing.

Open up!

I believe you two fellas
know each other.

Oh, wait.

Wait.
Y-you can't.

You can't.

Well, hell, buddy,
it ain't so bad,

no... you can't!

Son,
this is my prison.

I can do whatever
the hell I like.

No. No, no, no,
no, no, you can't!

Well, that man
makes me nervous.

You must have done something
real bad, shut... shut...

Because this right here is the
worst cell in the place. Shut...

I believe you.
I gotta say...

I know, I know,
I know...

I mean, that view right there,
that view of the city,

I mean,
that is unbelievable,

- because we're looking...
- Stop it!

- At people right there...
- Stop it!

- No, no, no...
- All the people run around,

and all we can do is sit
and watch it and think about

all the things that we're
not having right now...

[Babbling] Stop. Stop.
Shut... shut your mouth!

- Shut up!
- That's... I mean, that's torture

it is,
it's torture.

Shut it!
[Babbles]

[Screaming] No!
For the trumpet will sound!

And the dead
shall be raised imperishable!

And we will all
be changed...

[Muted dialogue]

(Tv announcer)
This shocking footage

was captured
just a few hours ago

at a local
Columbus super store,

where an unidentified shooter
opened fire on the store's...

It's his third shooting.

(Tv announcer)
Brutally killing three,

and wounding many others.
Police are investigating...

- We missed him.
- No.

Lucy wasn't part
of his pattern,

it's number two.

We've got one more shot.

Let's get
back to work.

The view narrows our
search to three miles

covering North beach
and Telegraph Hill.

Both of the shootings
happened

at the highest vantage
point in that area.

Can you remove
the structures

that weren't there
in '63,

the ones Cobb wouldn't have
seen from his cell?

Uh, let me see.

Okay, got it.

This is a photo
of the buildings

that are there now,

and these are the buildings
that Cobb could see in 1963.

How's Lucy?

She's stable.

But the doctors say

there's no telling
the extent of the damage.

What do you got?

This is what Cobb saw
from his cell every day.

He even made a scope
and studied the view.

Just imagined it
over and over.

And these are
the buildings

high enough to be used
as a vantage point.

Yeah, from the rooftops
he could shoot down

at pier 31
or Fort Mason.

That's where
we're gonna find him.

Let's take a ride.

[Tires screech]

I got this one.

Alive,
I want him alive.

[Elevator bell chimes]

47 slats
in the picket fence.

Picket fence.
47, 47,...

There's 47 slats
in the picket fence...

One, two,
three, four...

There's 47 slats
in the picket fence.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three...

Cobb!

[Gunshot]

47. There's 47 slats
in the picket fence.

47 slats.

Drop your weapon!

Three, four, five...

[Continues mumbling]

I know you met
your mother!

She had a daughter,
and you saw her, Cobb.

You saw your sister.

You know she
wrote you a letter?

Her name was Eloise.

She lived at
47 Kaley Street,

your sister.

- Go to hell.
- She wanted to know you.

She wanted
a big brother.

Go to hell!

Okay, Cobb,

I'm putting down my gun.
Are you ready?

I'm coming out.

Here's the gun.

All right?

My hands are
in the air.

I have the letter.
I can show you.

She's not out there.

Your sister's
not out there.

- Shut...
- Cobb!

[Grunting]

Don't move!

-Don't move!
- Oh.

Is he right-handed?

Yeah.

[Screams]

No more shooting.

[Heart monitor beeping]

I don't think
I can hack this.

- Doc...
- No, I mean it.

I mean, Hauser
doesn't need me,

and what we're doing,

stone-cold killers
and dead bodies,

and someone I actually
know getting...

Right in front of me.

This isn't a comic book
world, is it?

I mean, real people
are gonna die

if we don't
catch these guys.

It's okay
to feel this way, doc.

It comes
with the job.

I'm afraid...

I'm not gonna be
good at it.

Well, too late.
You already are.

I want to you go home,
get some sleep,

and get ready
for the next one,

because I need you.

Thanks.

Close it up.

I could have
killed you today.

But now you're here,

you're gonna wish I had.

I hate to see
it's come to this,

trussed up like
a Christmas hog,

but your penchant
for insubordination

seems insatiable.

Time and again, you've found
your way back into solitary,

and damned if I can
figure out why.

But not to worry, son.

I've studied
and researched

and found a doctor who,
with God's will,

might could be able
to help you.

If anyone can figure
what's gone amiss

in that noggin of yours,

it's this little lady here.

Welcome to Alcatraz,

Dr. Sengupta.

Thank you,
warden James.

Hello, Mr. Cobb.

My name is
Lucille Sengupta.

I'm here to help you.