American Gothic (2016): Season 1, Episode 2 - Jack-in-the-Pulpit - full transcript
Previously on American Gothic...
Stunning break tonight in the
case of the elusive serial killer
known as "Silver Bells."
It's the biggest
lead on this case in years.
Killer known for his eerie
calling card: small, silver handbell.
Our dad? Has to be
some kind of sick joke.
Silver Bells murders
stopped 14 years ago.
Do you remember what else
happened 14 years ago?
Garrett left.
Hey, little sister.
What did you hear him say?
I'm gonna tell him it was you.
We have to tell the truth.
I love you.
There's been some tough stuff...
with my family.
But I've been good, you know?
I really have.
Until last night.
I buckled. I called Rick.
That's my dealer.
They're always named
Rick, it seems like.
Anyway, I called him, you
know the rest, so...
My sobriety starts over today.
Yeah.
See, you can't keep Domino's on
speed dial when you're on a diet.
Delete Rick's number from
your phone, brother.
Yeah, I'll do that.
I'll watch.
Ah, phone's dead.
Charger.
Maybe we should try Cam again.
I've called him five times from a few
different numbers in case he's screening.
It's just Brady.
Checking on me.
Tom and I haven't figured
out how to tell the twins.
Where did Garrett go?
I told him, then he said
he was going for a walk.
That was at about 8:00 this morning.
- Where were you? You lied.
- My cell phone was dead. I'm sorry.
If you had gone to the
hospital like you said,
Mom wouldn't have been alone when...
We should talk about
planning the funeral.
Without Mom?
- Where...
- She's taking a bath.
Be good to save her the trouble, anyway.
Um, I called St. Paul's Church
about having the service there
and then a reception here afterward.
We should probably limit the guest list,
'cause everyone's gonna want to come.
Yeah.
Everyone loved Dad.
What...
Why are you so...
What?
Our father is dead,
and not a single tear.
Whoa.
No, you I can understand, but Tess...
Okay, Alison's grief coordinator.
Oh, come on.
It's a self-appointed position.
How many tears should we cry?
- Will ten suffice?
- Look, I'm sorry.
I can't bury our dad until
I have some answers.
- About what?
- You know what.
The box we found in the shed.
Is this about Silver Bells?
'Cause I'm on this case now, so I
should probably be here if it is.
Newly minted Detective Ross.
Brother-in-law of city councilor
Alison Hawthorne-Price.
I'm sure she didn't pull any strings.
Hang on.
Why don't you, uh, take
us through a briefing
on the Silver Bells murders?
Okay.
Sure.
The Silver Bells Killer
committed six murders
between 1999 and 2002.
The victims are all members
of Boston's wealthy elite.
Consistent M.O.:
strangulation with a belt.
He carefully posed each corpse in a
chair like a dead king on his throne.
And next to each body he
placed a single silver bell.
Now, the working theory is that SBK
had a deeply ingrained
resentment of wealth and power.
SBK saw himself as some sort of a
mascot of a populist uprising.
Then he stopped.
Maybe he decided to quit
while he was ahead.
Maybe he knew that we didn't
have a shred of evidence
to help us find him.
But that all changed last
week in the tunnel collapse.
This high-end leather belt
was found in the rubble.
It is the first SBK murder
weapon ever recovered.
Now, in addition to the
paint on the belt,
forensics managed to pull a fingerprint,
which was matched to David Morales,
SBK's final victim,
and a faint blood stain,
which didn't match Morales.
Now, we believe that the
belt belonged to Morales,
which we're gonna confirm
with his next of kin.
We believe the blood
belonged to SBK himself.
It's most likely that he disposed
of the belt in the concrete
thinking it would never resurface,
so our best bet is to compile
a list of all the workers
who were on-site the day the
concrete panel was poured.
Those are our suspects.
Thanks for the warm welcome.
What exactly is it you
think you're gonna do?
Hold on. Gunther.
- Give us a minute?
- Right.
Sure, right.
I want to show Brady one of the
bells, so he can tell us if it's real.
No, absolutely not.
The last thing we need is to
tell a cop about the bells.
- Not a cop, my husband.
- We agreed
we'd keep this between us until
we know what we're dealing with.
Back me up here.
I-I'm not on anyone's side, okay?
I don't want to bury it, but I
don't want to come forward either.
I just want it to not exist.
Not helpful.
The sooner we find out what's going on,
the sooner we can lay Dad to rest.
Wait a minute.
Where's the box?
Wasn't it right there?
You said you wouldn't move it.
No, we didn't touch it.
How could it just...
If you're
looking for the bells...
they're gone.
Your father was always interested
in true crime stories, do you remember?
Right, of course.
He watched Unsolved
Mysteries religiously,
and he always had a theory.
"The nanny did it,
Mad, I'm telling you."
But that true crime hobby
had taken a turn lately
because he was... slipping.
Wha...
What do you mean?
Dementia.
What?
He did a pretty good job hiding it.
But he was sundowning.
Mornings were fine, but by evening,
he started to deteriorate.
The last few weeks were...
really bad.
Oh, Mom.
About a week ago,
I found him out in the shed.
He was disoriented, he called me Mary,
his sister's name, and he said,
"Mary, I think I'm a bad guy."
And then he showed me that box.
He'd found all the old articles
he'd saved from years ago,
and those dumb collectible bells
that he must've gotten off of
some murder memorabilia site.
But his brain
was failing him,
and he'd started to think it was him.
That he was the Silver Bells Killer.
Oh, God.
Mom?
- Are you sure...
- Am I sure what?
That he was losing his mind? Yes.
Are you sure that he wasn't...
A serial killer?
I won't even dignify
that with a response.
I just lost my husband of 38 years,
and the only thing that I have
a tiny sliver of gratitude for
is that he went before this bizarre
delusion could go any further.
He could've brought down the
whole family with this nonsense.
And that would have been
his worst nightmare.
So where is it now?
The box.
It's gone.
I had Gunther get rid of...
all that old stuff from the shed.
Not spouses, not long-lost siblings.
It's our responsibility to
keep Dad's legacy intact.
Thank you.
So, we'll do the visitation, the
service, followed by cremation.
Per his wishes.
I'd like to speak at the service.
Of course.
What about me?
I want to speak at the funeral.
I have something to say.
I think it's better if I speak
on behalf of the whole family.
I disagree.
I'm here about Caramel.
Something's happened to his tail.
It's been sewed up, but
something happened, I know it.
I suspect an incident
of animal mutilation.
Perhaps someone in your
family saw something.
Phyllis,
do you remember my husband Mitchell?
Tall guy, gray hair.
He's dead.
Good luck with your cat.
Hello?
This is Renee from
Fisher Hill Hospital.
My apologies for bothering you, Mrs.
Hawthorne, on such a difficult day,
but we need to discuss an issue
related to Mr. Hawthorne's passing,
and it just can't wait.
What is this about?
There were some irregularities in
the machine tracking his vitals.
It's important we discuss this
in person, as soon as possible.
You just caught us by surprise.
Showing up.
After 14 years.
Yeah, I should have called.
What's your agenda here?
My agenda?
Violet said something
strange last night.
She said she heard you say to Dad,
"I'm gonna tell them it was you."
Well, she's, what, five?
And likes pretending
to be a slug.
Maybe she's not the
most reliable source.
You vanish for a decade and a half,
show back up to watch Dad die,
then disappear on "walks" for hours.
Did you have a specific
itinerary for me?
Maybe a duck tour?
Do you get the sense you're wanted here?
Not to worry, sis.
I'm leaving.
Right after the funeral.
What is it you want to
say at the service?
Oh, I just want to share
a few special memories.
A few favorite quotes.
If you have something you want to say,
just feel free to share it with me now.
You're a politician, Alison.
You know the benefits
of reaching a large audience
with your message, right?
Now, if you're finished with me,
I would like to take one
of my long weird walks.
He cannot speak at the memorial.
What do you mean?
Care to hear his opening quote?
"In all ages, the people have honored
"those who dishonored them.
"They have canonized the
most gigantic liars
"and buried the great
thieves in marble and gold.
Under the loftiest monuments
sleeps the dust of murder..."
That's enough.
Sounds like he's gonna
accuse Dad of something horrible.
Why? Why would he do that?
I don't know.
They had that horrible
fight before he left.
Because Garrett didn't want
to join the family company?
Th-That's a mild grudge.
This is a vendetta.
I don't know what ax he has to grind, but
clearly we can't let him do it in public.
Do you think... he's the one
who did something horrible,
and now he's gonna blame Dad for it?
Is it possible... that
box in the shed...?
No. It can't be.
Hmm, critical error.
What?
Your list of workers present
- the day the concrete panel was poured.
- Yeah?
It only included laborers,
not supervisors.
Yeah, because SBK's profile says
he's poor and disenfranchised.
Supervisors are well compensated.
Thing is, profile is an assumption,
and you know what they
say about assumptions.
Oh, do you not know that one?
See, the idea is when you assume...
- I'll redo the list.
- Oh, no need.
I did it for you.
Mitchell Hawthorne?
He's dead.
I want his DNA sample by end of day.
You're not serious. You want
Mitchell Hawthorne's DNA?
As soon as possible.
The guy was CEO of the company.
And he was on-site that day.
And if a lamp goes missing
from the White House,
and they make a list of everyone
who was in the White
House when it happened,
the president is gonna be on that list.
You really think that he's the burglar?
We talking Kennedy or Nixon?
Okay.
- I'll take care of it.
- When?
I'm gonna need a few days.
Once the body is buried,
we lose our best shot
- at a good sample.
- What do you want me to do?
You want me to open up the casket,
pull a hair off the corpse?
This shouldn't be that hard
considering you married into the family.
Look, I am not gonna march
in and ask my mother-in-law
for a DNA sample to prove
that her husband wasn't a serial killer
on the day she is laying him to rest.
I see your point.
Yeah.
I'll do it myself.
No. No, I'll do it.
I will get a toothbrush or something,
and then we can rule Mitchell
out, we can move on.
Super.
So where's his body? Grandpa's, I mean.
Because based on a postmortem
timeline I looked up,
rigor mortis has
definitely set in by now.
I mean, he's probably like...
Or...
You know? So where is he?
Sometimes they drain the blood
and replace it with 'balming fluid.
That way it smells less bad.
Do you think they let
kids in the morgue?
- 'Cause I've never seen a...
- Sit tight.
Uh, I was supposed to
find out if you have
any dietary restrictions.
Caterers need to know.
I am pretty sick of squirrel.
So I guess anything but
squirrel would be fine.
Did you know at this stage,
Grandpa's fingernails
probably look like
they're getting longer?
Because of dehydration.
Like this.
That's right, little man.
Same thing happens to dead squirrels.
Please don't encourage this.
Apple doesn't fall far from the tree,
does it, Cam? Huh?
You had a dark streak, too.
Come on, Jack.
Do you think his mouth is open?
And if it is, do you think it stinks?
You think it smells bad?
Is the casket open?
Are his eyes open?
Because if they are, they're probably...
Listen to me. Listen to me.
Everyone's very sad because
they won't see Grandpa again.
What about the funeral, in the casket?
They won't see him alive again.
Look, like this.
They won't be able to talk to
him, to ask him for advice,
to give him a hug. It's very sad.
Couldn't we still hug his corpse?
Can someone else in
your family deal with this?
Shoo him away nicely?
My mom's grief-stricken.
Cam's wrapped up in his own demons.
And when Tessa looks at Garrett,
all she sees is the big brother
who took her ice-skating
at the frog pond.
To make things worse, we've
given Kerry Treadwell
exclusive press access at the service.
It seemed like a boon at the time.
Yeah, but the story needs to be
your eloquent heartfelt eulogy,
not whatever that loose-cannon
lumberjack dreams up.
But we can't stop him
from getting up there
if he's hell-bent on it.
We could borrow from the Republicans'
voter suppression tactics and
require IDs at the door.
There's no way Garrett
has a current license.
Are you okay?
I can't begin to imagine
how much you miss him.
Oh, sorry to
disturb you, Miss Tessa.
Oh.
No, please, Gunther.
Keep me company.
I'm just looking at photos
to display at the reception.
He never let me win.
Yeah, well, it's like our
chess matches, right?
Every once in a while, I
beat him fair and square,
but he never let me.
I remember those chess battles
from when I was little.
Yeah, we were still playing
every Thursday night.
Even last week.
You played Thursday nights?
Yeah.
Hey, Gunther,
when you played, did you ever notice...
my dad seeming a little confused
or out of sorts?
No.
No, you can't pull off a French Defense
if you're not sharp as a tack, right?
Right.
As I mentioned, we found
some odd data with your husband's vitals
before he passed away.
I see.
We believe, based on irregular readings
from his O-sat monitor,
there was possibly a
machine malfunction.
Your family's donations
helped build this place.
We will always be grateful,
even if you decide to bring a lawsuit.
No, no.
Clearly, there was no
intentional wrongdoing here.
Still, uh, we don't want this
to happen to anyone else.
That's why I think it would
be best if we do an autopsy,
so that we can get a full picture
of exactly what happened.
The body's already been
released to the funeral home.
We'd need your consent to get it back.
Yes, of course.
I'll call them myself and
make sure it's not too late.
There's been
a change of plans.
There'll no longer be an open casket.
Body should be sent directly to
the crematory for incineration.
Hey.
Hey.
You doing okay?
Why am I curling my hair?
Is this day gonna be any better or worse
if I have waves gently
cascading down my shoulders?
Well, you know, certain rituals
can be comforting sometimes.
I guess.
It's weird.
I noticed your dad's stuff
seems to be disappearing
from the house already.
Yeah. That's what Mom does in grief.
That's her ritual.
It's too painful to see
all the constant reminders
around the house.
She did the same thing
when our dog died.
Removed every trace of him.
You know what?
I'm ready before everyone else.
I'm gonna head down to the church early
and see if there's anything
I can do to help set up.
You know.
That's sweet of you. Thanks.
All right.
Go put your jacket on.
Why is there no un-delete?
- You holding?
- No.
Come on, man.
Hey.
I'll pay a lot for whatever you got.
Just missed him.
What?
There was a change of plans, per Mrs.
Hawthorne.
Yeah. Uh, I'm her son-in-law.
She sent me down here to make sure
everything was taken care of.
- So you've sent Mr. Hawthorne to...?
- Shore Road Crematory.
Right.
Good.
That's good. Good.
That's what she wanted, so...
that's great.
Would you excuse me?
You got to be kidding me.
License and registration, please.
I don't have my registration on me.
Your tags expired.
About 12 years ago.
Your ID, too.
All right, step out of
the car, please, sir.
I thought there was a visitation.
There's no casket.
I decided to go ahead
with the cremation.
I just couldn't stand to
see him that way anymore.
Not after the hospital.
I'm sorry.
I-I should've been there with you.
What's cremation?
Um...
Grandpa's not in his body anymore.
It's just a shell, and sometimes people
decide to burn the shell,
and then they just have
their ashes to remember them by.
Soph.
You wait right here, buddy?
Could've called me.
Whatever we are,
I still loved him.
He's still Jack's grandpa.
If you want me to leave, I will.
Hawthorne, Mitchell.
Just missed him.
What?
Yeah, he went in about
three, four minutes ago.
Went in...?
The oven.
Damn.
He was dead, right?
Ah, damn.
Yeah.
I thought you might like to
know that your brother-in-law
was just brought in.
What?
Yup. Garrett.
He was driving around
with an expired license,
no registration, no insurance.
Will you transfer me to the lieutenant?
They need to let him go.
Whoa, whoa.
Three different violations and...
Cutter, the guy's about to miss
his father's funeral, okay?
We can deal with his
minor infractions later.
Just transfer me.
I'm glad you could make it. Thank you.
- Have you seen Brady?
- No.
At our last bridge game,
Mitchell was the life of the party.
Just doesn't seem real, Madeline.
- I know.
- Yeah.
- I'm so glad you're here.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
Mom, can I have a minute?
Of course.
What's going on?
Excuse me?
Dad was still playing bridge
and beating Gunther at chess at night?
I'm not following you.
It just doesn't track
with what you told us.
Dementia, sundowning...
You think... I'm lying?
You have no idea
what I've been through,
keeping up appearances.
Your father's last bridge
game was eight months ago,
and a gerbil could
beat Gunther at chess.
So now you come to me
and accuse me of lying about
his condition at his funeral?
Mom, why didn't you tell us?
- No.
- We could've helped.
He begged me to keep his secret
because he was so humiliated.
He would forget my name, where he was.
It was gut-wrenching and heartbreaking.
And he did a heroic job of sparing you
from all of it.
There were nights,
towards the end, in his lucid moments,
when he told me he wanted to die.
And he asked for my help.
I had no idea.
Thank you. Please take a seat.
Is she okay?
Oh, it's just all hitting her now.
We should start soon.
Yeah, okay.
You look surprised to see me.
No, I just...
I'm glad you could make it.
Oh.
You look great.
Nice try.
Hey.
All right?
Yeah.
All right, come on.
I'm just struggling.
I know. It's okay.
It's normal.
Well, yeah.
Except...
I've taken meds for years for anxiety,
and the last few months, I stopped.
I had to because Brady and I
are trying to get pregnant.
And without the meds,
I just feel shaky, you know?
And I just had this
awful fight with Mom...
about Dad,
who's gone.
I don't know.
I really can't take anything
else right now, I...
Listen to me.
You're gonna be fine.
Okay?
You hear me?
I promise you.
All right?
Do you remember when I was five
and I started having nightmares?
Yeah.
You were the only one
that could calm me down.
Not Mom. Not Dad.
Just you.
I thought you took care of that.
I thought so, too.
I hated my father.
He's the reason I left my
family behind 14 years ago.
When I left,
he told me that my anger
would fade one day,
and I'd come home,
and we could just pick
up where we left off.
He lied to me.
Time ran out.
Excuse me, I'm so sorry.
Hey, I'm so sorry.
- I had a work emergency...
- Shut up.
When I was a little girl,
I kept a music box by my bed
to help me go to sleep.
I was like every little kid...
afraid of monsters.
I thought they were in the closet,
but as long as the doors were closed
and the music box was playing,
they couldn't get me.
Meet me in the bathroom.
- Now?
- And every night,
my dad would kiss me on the forehead
and say good night, and I'd ask him,
"Close the closet and
wind up the music box."
The same thing every time.
"Close the closet and
wind up the music box."
Every time, he did it.
He knew the drill.
I knew the drill.
But we both got comfort
from the ritual...
What are you doing?
You need to be present for this.
Your dad is dead. Feel it!
No. Pass. Too much.
Listen to me.
When I lost my dad, I got messed up.
I numbed the pain.
It feels like an escape.
But trust me, the pain
will always find you,
and the longer you put it off,
the harder it beats you up.
All right, maybe you're right.
But... just...
I got to take the edge off.
I'm grateful to be his daughter.
There are other ways. That
his legacy will live on
through his children
and his grandchildren.
Grateful to the man who
inspired me, challenged me,
protected me from the monsters.
My name
is Jack Hawthorne.
I want to talk about my grandpa.
Oh, no.
It's very sad that I'll never
get to see him alive again.
It's also sad
that I'll never get to
talk to him, hug him,
or ask him advice.
But I'm mostly sad
because Grandpa was cremated,
and I never got to see
his decomposing body.
Did you like my speech?
It was good, bud.
Really good.
I, uh... I better get going.
Come here.
Hey, uh, Soph.
Um, thanks for earlier.
You made the right call.
You'll throw away that cookie for me?
Why would you throw away a cookie?
Too much sugar.
Everything's gonna be fine.
Thank you so much.
Oh, Madeline.
It's so sad to see you
under the circumstances.
So appreciate you coming.
If there's anything
that we can do for you.
Honey, I have something for you.
What's this?
Just a little gift for you.
For the girls, too.
We can put it in their room.
Thank you.
Look, I'm sorry about Jack.
He needs therapy.
Eh, he just... loves
the science of things.
It's how he processes the world.
Doesn't mean he... I saw
the neighbor's cat.
No one wants to think
their child is troubled,
but you went to therapy
when you were younger.
I was a teenager.
He's only nine.
And he needs help. Now.
Yes, that's the one.
Thank you very much, sir.
They even have a coat-check guy.
They thought of everything.
Listen, I haven't gotten
the DNA yet, but I'm...
Not why I'm calling.
I talked to David
Morales' daughter today.
She says the belt we found
in the tunnel wasn't his.
Never wore leather.
Vegan guy.
All right, so then probably the
belt belongs to SBK himself.
He could've even worn
it to Morales' house.
Pretty snazzy belt for a
bitter blue-collar guy.
It's $180 retail. So...
So maybe we got the profile backward.
Maybe SBK does come from money.
Ding, ding, ding.
You see now why we have
to avoid assumptions?
Thank you.
For keeping your mouth shut.
I didn't do it for you.
I know.
Tessa's trying to have a baby,
Alison's weeks from the election,
and Cam's sober.
He's beat his demons.
What's your point, Mom?
I think you should leave.
Why?
Because you're a grenade.
Well, then maybe you should
handle me carefully.
Stunning break tonight in the
case of the elusive serial killer
known as "Silver Bells."
It's the biggest
lead on this case in years.
Killer known for his eerie
calling card: small, silver handbell.
Our dad? Has to be
some kind of sick joke.
Silver Bells murders
stopped 14 years ago.
Do you remember what else
happened 14 years ago?
Garrett left.
Hey, little sister.
What did you hear him say?
I'm gonna tell him it was you.
We have to tell the truth.
I love you.
There's been some tough stuff...
with my family.
But I've been good, you know?
I really have.
Until last night.
I buckled. I called Rick.
That's my dealer.
They're always named
Rick, it seems like.
Anyway, I called him, you
know the rest, so...
My sobriety starts over today.
Yeah.
See, you can't keep Domino's on
speed dial when you're on a diet.
Delete Rick's number from
your phone, brother.
Yeah, I'll do that.
I'll watch.
Ah, phone's dead.
Charger.
Maybe we should try Cam again.
I've called him five times from a few
different numbers in case he's screening.
It's just Brady.
Checking on me.
Tom and I haven't figured
out how to tell the twins.
Where did Garrett go?
I told him, then he said
he was going for a walk.
That was at about 8:00 this morning.
- Where were you? You lied.
- My cell phone was dead. I'm sorry.
If you had gone to the
hospital like you said,
Mom wouldn't have been alone when...
We should talk about
planning the funeral.
Without Mom?
- Where...
- She's taking a bath.
Be good to save her the trouble, anyway.
Um, I called St. Paul's Church
about having the service there
and then a reception here afterward.
We should probably limit the guest list,
'cause everyone's gonna want to come.
Yeah.
Everyone loved Dad.
What...
Why are you so...
What?
Our father is dead,
and not a single tear.
Whoa.
No, you I can understand, but Tess...
Okay, Alison's grief coordinator.
Oh, come on.
It's a self-appointed position.
How many tears should we cry?
- Will ten suffice?
- Look, I'm sorry.
I can't bury our dad until
I have some answers.
- About what?
- You know what.
The box we found in the shed.
Is this about Silver Bells?
'Cause I'm on this case now, so I
should probably be here if it is.
Newly minted Detective Ross.
Brother-in-law of city councilor
Alison Hawthorne-Price.
I'm sure she didn't pull any strings.
Hang on.
Why don't you, uh, take
us through a briefing
on the Silver Bells murders?
Okay.
Sure.
The Silver Bells Killer
committed six murders
between 1999 and 2002.
The victims are all members
of Boston's wealthy elite.
Consistent M.O.:
strangulation with a belt.
He carefully posed each corpse in a
chair like a dead king on his throne.
And next to each body he
placed a single silver bell.
Now, the working theory is that SBK
had a deeply ingrained
resentment of wealth and power.
SBK saw himself as some sort of a
mascot of a populist uprising.
Then he stopped.
Maybe he decided to quit
while he was ahead.
Maybe he knew that we didn't
have a shred of evidence
to help us find him.
But that all changed last
week in the tunnel collapse.
This high-end leather belt
was found in the rubble.
It is the first SBK murder
weapon ever recovered.
Now, in addition to the
paint on the belt,
forensics managed to pull a fingerprint,
which was matched to David Morales,
SBK's final victim,
and a faint blood stain,
which didn't match Morales.
Now, we believe that the
belt belonged to Morales,
which we're gonna confirm
with his next of kin.
We believe the blood
belonged to SBK himself.
It's most likely that he disposed
of the belt in the concrete
thinking it would never resurface,
so our best bet is to compile
a list of all the workers
who were on-site the day the
concrete panel was poured.
Those are our suspects.
Thanks for the warm welcome.
What exactly is it you
think you're gonna do?
Hold on. Gunther.
- Give us a minute?
- Right.
Sure, right.
I want to show Brady one of the
bells, so he can tell us if it's real.
No, absolutely not.
The last thing we need is to
tell a cop about the bells.
- Not a cop, my husband.
- We agreed
we'd keep this between us until
we know what we're dealing with.
Back me up here.
I-I'm not on anyone's side, okay?
I don't want to bury it, but I
don't want to come forward either.
I just want it to not exist.
Not helpful.
The sooner we find out what's going on,
the sooner we can lay Dad to rest.
Wait a minute.
Where's the box?
Wasn't it right there?
You said you wouldn't move it.
No, we didn't touch it.
How could it just...
If you're
looking for the bells...
they're gone.
Your father was always interested
in true crime stories, do you remember?
Right, of course.
He watched Unsolved
Mysteries religiously,
and he always had a theory.
"The nanny did it,
Mad, I'm telling you."
But that true crime hobby
had taken a turn lately
because he was... slipping.
Wha...
What do you mean?
Dementia.
What?
He did a pretty good job hiding it.
But he was sundowning.
Mornings were fine, but by evening,
he started to deteriorate.
The last few weeks were...
really bad.
Oh, Mom.
About a week ago,
I found him out in the shed.
He was disoriented, he called me Mary,
his sister's name, and he said,
"Mary, I think I'm a bad guy."
And then he showed me that box.
He'd found all the old articles
he'd saved from years ago,
and those dumb collectible bells
that he must've gotten off of
some murder memorabilia site.
But his brain
was failing him,
and he'd started to think it was him.
That he was the Silver Bells Killer.
Oh, God.
Mom?
- Are you sure...
- Am I sure what?
That he was losing his mind? Yes.
Are you sure that he wasn't...
A serial killer?
I won't even dignify
that with a response.
I just lost my husband of 38 years,
and the only thing that I have
a tiny sliver of gratitude for
is that he went before this bizarre
delusion could go any further.
He could've brought down the
whole family with this nonsense.
And that would have been
his worst nightmare.
So where is it now?
The box.
It's gone.
I had Gunther get rid of...
all that old stuff from the shed.
Not spouses, not long-lost siblings.
It's our responsibility to
keep Dad's legacy intact.
Thank you.
So, we'll do the visitation, the
service, followed by cremation.
Per his wishes.
I'd like to speak at the service.
Of course.
What about me?
I want to speak at the funeral.
I have something to say.
I think it's better if I speak
on behalf of the whole family.
I disagree.
I'm here about Caramel.
Something's happened to his tail.
It's been sewed up, but
something happened, I know it.
I suspect an incident
of animal mutilation.
Perhaps someone in your
family saw something.
Phyllis,
do you remember my husband Mitchell?
Tall guy, gray hair.
He's dead.
Good luck with your cat.
Hello?
This is Renee from
Fisher Hill Hospital.
My apologies for bothering you, Mrs.
Hawthorne, on such a difficult day,
but we need to discuss an issue
related to Mr. Hawthorne's passing,
and it just can't wait.
What is this about?
There were some irregularities in
the machine tracking his vitals.
It's important we discuss this
in person, as soon as possible.
You just caught us by surprise.
Showing up.
After 14 years.
Yeah, I should have called.
What's your agenda here?
My agenda?
Violet said something
strange last night.
She said she heard you say to Dad,
"I'm gonna tell them it was you."
Well, she's, what, five?
And likes pretending
to be a slug.
Maybe she's not the
most reliable source.
You vanish for a decade and a half,
show back up to watch Dad die,
then disappear on "walks" for hours.
Did you have a specific
itinerary for me?
Maybe a duck tour?
Do you get the sense you're wanted here?
Not to worry, sis.
I'm leaving.
Right after the funeral.
What is it you want to
say at the service?
Oh, I just want to share
a few special memories.
A few favorite quotes.
If you have something you want to say,
just feel free to share it with me now.
You're a politician, Alison.
You know the benefits
of reaching a large audience
with your message, right?
Now, if you're finished with me,
I would like to take one
of my long weird walks.
He cannot speak at the memorial.
What do you mean?
Care to hear his opening quote?
"In all ages, the people have honored
"those who dishonored them.
"They have canonized the
most gigantic liars
"and buried the great
thieves in marble and gold.
Under the loftiest monuments
sleeps the dust of murder..."
That's enough.
Sounds like he's gonna
accuse Dad of something horrible.
Why? Why would he do that?
I don't know.
They had that horrible
fight before he left.
Because Garrett didn't want
to join the family company?
Th-That's a mild grudge.
This is a vendetta.
I don't know what ax he has to grind, but
clearly we can't let him do it in public.
Do you think... he's the one
who did something horrible,
and now he's gonna blame Dad for it?
Is it possible... that
box in the shed...?
No. It can't be.
Hmm, critical error.
What?
Your list of workers present
- the day the concrete panel was poured.
- Yeah?
It only included laborers,
not supervisors.
Yeah, because SBK's profile says
he's poor and disenfranchised.
Supervisors are well compensated.
Thing is, profile is an assumption,
and you know what they
say about assumptions.
Oh, do you not know that one?
See, the idea is when you assume...
- I'll redo the list.
- Oh, no need.
I did it for you.
Mitchell Hawthorne?
He's dead.
I want his DNA sample by end of day.
You're not serious. You want
Mitchell Hawthorne's DNA?
As soon as possible.
The guy was CEO of the company.
And he was on-site that day.
And if a lamp goes missing
from the White House,
and they make a list of everyone
who was in the White
House when it happened,
the president is gonna be on that list.
You really think that he's the burglar?
We talking Kennedy or Nixon?
Okay.
- I'll take care of it.
- When?
I'm gonna need a few days.
Once the body is buried,
we lose our best shot
- at a good sample.
- What do you want me to do?
You want me to open up the casket,
pull a hair off the corpse?
This shouldn't be that hard
considering you married into the family.
Look, I am not gonna march
in and ask my mother-in-law
for a DNA sample to prove
that her husband wasn't a serial killer
on the day she is laying him to rest.
I see your point.
Yeah.
I'll do it myself.
No. No, I'll do it.
I will get a toothbrush or something,
and then we can rule Mitchell
out, we can move on.
Super.
So where's his body? Grandpa's, I mean.
Because based on a postmortem
timeline I looked up,
rigor mortis has
definitely set in by now.
I mean, he's probably like...
Or...
You know? So where is he?
Sometimes they drain the blood
and replace it with 'balming fluid.
That way it smells less bad.
Do you think they let
kids in the morgue?
- 'Cause I've never seen a...
- Sit tight.
Uh, I was supposed to
find out if you have
any dietary restrictions.
Caterers need to know.
I am pretty sick of squirrel.
So I guess anything but
squirrel would be fine.
Did you know at this stage,
Grandpa's fingernails
probably look like
they're getting longer?
Because of dehydration.
Like this.
That's right, little man.
Same thing happens to dead squirrels.
Please don't encourage this.
Apple doesn't fall far from the tree,
does it, Cam? Huh?
You had a dark streak, too.
Come on, Jack.
Do you think his mouth is open?
And if it is, do you think it stinks?
You think it smells bad?
Is the casket open?
Are his eyes open?
Because if they are, they're probably...
Listen to me. Listen to me.
Everyone's very sad because
they won't see Grandpa again.
What about the funeral, in the casket?
They won't see him alive again.
Look, like this.
They won't be able to talk to
him, to ask him for advice,
to give him a hug. It's very sad.
Couldn't we still hug his corpse?
Can someone else in
your family deal with this?
Shoo him away nicely?
My mom's grief-stricken.
Cam's wrapped up in his own demons.
And when Tessa looks at Garrett,
all she sees is the big brother
who took her ice-skating
at the frog pond.
To make things worse, we've
given Kerry Treadwell
exclusive press access at the service.
It seemed like a boon at the time.
Yeah, but the story needs to be
your eloquent heartfelt eulogy,
not whatever that loose-cannon
lumberjack dreams up.
But we can't stop him
from getting up there
if he's hell-bent on it.
We could borrow from the Republicans'
voter suppression tactics and
require IDs at the door.
There's no way Garrett
has a current license.
Are you okay?
I can't begin to imagine
how much you miss him.
Oh, sorry to
disturb you, Miss Tessa.
Oh.
No, please, Gunther.
Keep me company.
I'm just looking at photos
to display at the reception.
He never let me win.
Yeah, well, it's like our
chess matches, right?
Every once in a while, I
beat him fair and square,
but he never let me.
I remember those chess battles
from when I was little.
Yeah, we were still playing
every Thursday night.
Even last week.
You played Thursday nights?
Yeah.
Hey, Gunther,
when you played, did you ever notice...
my dad seeming a little confused
or out of sorts?
No.
No, you can't pull off a French Defense
if you're not sharp as a tack, right?
Right.
As I mentioned, we found
some odd data with your husband's vitals
before he passed away.
I see.
We believe, based on irregular readings
from his O-sat monitor,
there was possibly a
machine malfunction.
Your family's donations
helped build this place.
We will always be grateful,
even if you decide to bring a lawsuit.
No, no.
Clearly, there was no
intentional wrongdoing here.
Still, uh, we don't want this
to happen to anyone else.
That's why I think it would
be best if we do an autopsy,
so that we can get a full picture
of exactly what happened.
The body's already been
released to the funeral home.
We'd need your consent to get it back.
Yes, of course.
I'll call them myself and
make sure it's not too late.
There's been
a change of plans.
There'll no longer be an open casket.
Body should be sent directly to
the crematory for incineration.
Hey.
Hey.
You doing okay?
Why am I curling my hair?
Is this day gonna be any better or worse
if I have waves gently
cascading down my shoulders?
Well, you know, certain rituals
can be comforting sometimes.
I guess.
It's weird.
I noticed your dad's stuff
seems to be disappearing
from the house already.
Yeah. That's what Mom does in grief.
That's her ritual.
It's too painful to see
all the constant reminders
around the house.
She did the same thing
when our dog died.
Removed every trace of him.
You know what?
I'm ready before everyone else.
I'm gonna head down to the church early
and see if there's anything
I can do to help set up.
You know.
That's sweet of you. Thanks.
All right.
Go put your jacket on.
Why is there no un-delete?
- You holding?
- No.
Come on, man.
Hey.
I'll pay a lot for whatever you got.
Just missed him.
What?
There was a change of plans, per Mrs.
Hawthorne.
Yeah. Uh, I'm her son-in-law.
She sent me down here to make sure
everything was taken care of.
- So you've sent Mr. Hawthorne to...?
- Shore Road Crematory.
Right.
Good.
That's good. Good.
That's what she wanted, so...
that's great.
Would you excuse me?
You got to be kidding me.
License and registration, please.
I don't have my registration on me.
Your tags expired.
About 12 years ago.
Your ID, too.
All right, step out of
the car, please, sir.
I thought there was a visitation.
There's no casket.
I decided to go ahead
with the cremation.
I just couldn't stand to
see him that way anymore.
Not after the hospital.
I'm sorry.
I-I should've been there with you.
What's cremation?
Um...
Grandpa's not in his body anymore.
It's just a shell, and sometimes people
decide to burn the shell,
and then they just have
their ashes to remember them by.
Soph.
You wait right here, buddy?
Could've called me.
Whatever we are,
I still loved him.
He's still Jack's grandpa.
If you want me to leave, I will.
Hawthorne, Mitchell.
Just missed him.
What?
Yeah, he went in about
three, four minutes ago.
Went in...?
The oven.
Damn.
He was dead, right?
Ah, damn.
Yeah.
I thought you might like to
know that your brother-in-law
was just brought in.
What?
Yup. Garrett.
He was driving around
with an expired license,
no registration, no insurance.
Will you transfer me to the lieutenant?
They need to let him go.
Whoa, whoa.
Three different violations and...
Cutter, the guy's about to miss
his father's funeral, okay?
We can deal with his
minor infractions later.
Just transfer me.
I'm glad you could make it. Thank you.
- Have you seen Brady?
- No.
At our last bridge game,
Mitchell was the life of the party.
Just doesn't seem real, Madeline.
- I know.
- Yeah.
- I'm so glad you're here.
- Thank you.
Thank you.
Mom, can I have a minute?
Of course.
What's going on?
Excuse me?
Dad was still playing bridge
and beating Gunther at chess at night?
I'm not following you.
It just doesn't track
with what you told us.
Dementia, sundowning...
You think... I'm lying?
You have no idea
what I've been through,
keeping up appearances.
Your father's last bridge
game was eight months ago,
and a gerbil could
beat Gunther at chess.
So now you come to me
and accuse me of lying about
his condition at his funeral?
Mom, why didn't you tell us?
- No.
- We could've helped.
He begged me to keep his secret
because he was so humiliated.
He would forget my name, where he was.
It was gut-wrenching and heartbreaking.
And he did a heroic job of sparing you
from all of it.
There were nights,
towards the end, in his lucid moments,
when he told me he wanted to die.
And he asked for my help.
I had no idea.
Thank you. Please take a seat.
Is she okay?
Oh, it's just all hitting her now.
We should start soon.
Yeah, okay.
You look surprised to see me.
No, I just...
I'm glad you could make it.
Oh.
You look great.
Nice try.
Hey.
All right?
Yeah.
All right, come on.
I'm just struggling.
I know. It's okay.
It's normal.
Well, yeah.
Except...
I've taken meds for years for anxiety,
and the last few months, I stopped.
I had to because Brady and I
are trying to get pregnant.
And without the meds,
I just feel shaky, you know?
And I just had this
awful fight with Mom...
about Dad,
who's gone.
I don't know.
I really can't take anything
else right now, I...
Listen to me.
You're gonna be fine.
Okay?
You hear me?
I promise you.
All right?
Do you remember when I was five
and I started having nightmares?
Yeah.
You were the only one
that could calm me down.
Not Mom. Not Dad.
Just you.
I thought you took care of that.
I thought so, too.
I hated my father.
He's the reason I left my
family behind 14 years ago.
When I left,
he told me that my anger
would fade one day,
and I'd come home,
and we could just pick
up where we left off.
He lied to me.
Time ran out.
Excuse me, I'm so sorry.
Hey, I'm so sorry.
- I had a work emergency...
- Shut up.
When I was a little girl,
I kept a music box by my bed
to help me go to sleep.
I was like every little kid...
afraid of monsters.
I thought they were in the closet,
but as long as the doors were closed
and the music box was playing,
they couldn't get me.
Meet me in the bathroom.
- Now?
- And every night,
my dad would kiss me on the forehead
and say good night, and I'd ask him,
"Close the closet and
wind up the music box."
The same thing every time.
"Close the closet and
wind up the music box."
Every time, he did it.
He knew the drill.
I knew the drill.
But we both got comfort
from the ritual...
What are you doing?
You need to be present for this.
Your dad is dead. Feel it!
No. Pass. Too much.
Listen to me.
When I lost my dad, I got messed up.
I numbed the pain.
It feels like an escape.
But trust me, the pain
will always find you,
and the longer you put it off,
the harder it beats you up.
All right, maybe you're right.
But... just...
I got to take the edge off.
I'm grateful to be his daughter.
There are other ways. That
his legacy will live on
through his children
and his grandchildren.
Grateful to the man who
inspired me, challenged me,
protected me from the monsters.
My name
is Jack Hawthorne.
I want to talk about my grandpa.
Oh, no.
It's very sad that I'll never
get to see him alive again.
It's also sad
that I'll never get to
talk to him, hug him,
or ask him advice.
But I'm mostly sad
because Grandpa was cremated,
and I never got to see
his decomposing body.
Did you like my speech?
It was good, bud.
Really good.
I, uh... I better get going.
Come here.
Hey, uh, Soph.
Um, thanks for earlier.
You made the right call.
You'll throw away that cookie for me?
Why would you throw away a cookie?
Too much sugar.
Everything's gonna be fine.
Thank you so much.
Oh, Madeline.
It's so sad to see you
under the circumstances.
So appreciate you coming.
If there's anything
that we can do for you.
Honey, I have something for you.
What's this?
Just a little gift for you.
For the girls, too.
We can put it in their room.
Thank you.
Look, I'm sorry about Jack.
He needs therapy.
Eh, he just... loves
the science of things.
It's how he processes the world.
Doesn't mean he... I saw
the neighbor's cat.
No one wants to think
their child is troubled,
but you went to therapy
when you were younger.
I was a teenager.
He's only nine.
And he needs help. Now.
Yes, that's the one.
Thank you very much, sir.
They even have a coat-check guy.
They thought of everything.
Listen, I haven't gotten
the DNA yet, but I'm...
Not why I'm calling.
I talked to David
Morales' daughter today.
She says the belt we found
in the tunnel wasn't his.
Never wore leather.
Vegan guy.
All right, so then probably the
belt belongs to SBK himself.
He could've even worn
it to Morales' house.
Pretty snazzy belt for a
bitter blue-collar guy.
It's $180 retail. So...
So maybe we got the profile backward.
Maybe SBK does come from money.
Ding, ding, ding.
You see now why we have
to avoid assumptions?
Thank you.
For keeping your mouth shut.
I didn't do it for you.
I know.
Tessa's trying to have a baby,
Alison's weeks from the election,
and Cam's sober.
He's beat his demons.
What's your point, Mom?
I think you should leave.
Why?
Because you're a grenade.
Well, then maybe you should
handle me carefully.