Dexter (2006–2013): Season 1, Episode 7 - Circle of Friends - full transcript

Previously on Dexter...

It is my new friend.

When he broke into my apartment,

he took some time
to get to know me - my life,

my secrets.

Same as the others - no blood.

Somebody who was here
last night saw something.

They got a night watchman,
but we can't find him.

It's the guard - Tucci.

I think he's alive.

They're taking Tucci over to County.



Rudy here is gonna put me
back together again.

Yo, pretty boy,
you're stealing my thunder.

I don't know, I just might
have to fight you for this one.

Was he the man you saw
at the old hospital that night, Mr. Perry?

It was difficult to tell.
It was dark.

Florida prisons kick free
25,000 inmates a year.

I search for the ones who think
they beat the system,

like Jeremy Downs.

Jeremy got off easy.

To the coroner, the knife
strokes looked random,

but I saw the work
of a young virtuoso.

Are you gonna fuck me?

'Cause I killed
the last guy who raped me.

I understand now.



Jeremy didn't murder that boy
four years ago.

He was taking out the garbage.

Wait, is that all?

The FBI estimates that there are
less than 50 serial killers

active in the United States today.

We don't get together at conventions,

share trade secrets,
or exchange Christmas cards...

but sometimes I wonder
what it's like for the others.

The only sound I hear,

the only sound in the entire world...

is my heart beating.

I swear, after this case,

I'm submitting your ass
for psychiatric evaluation.

I'm just retracing castoff patterns,
directionality angles.

- Can you tell us what happened here?
- It's an execution.

The kid's an honor student,
editor of his yearbook.

It's all in the knife work.

Skillful, no wasted motion.
The killer had experience.

Every stroke hit a major artery...

or at least came close.

Are you getting a goddamn
hard-on there, Morgan?

No, it's truly horrific.
He was yearbook committee, you said?

I want your report on this tomorrow.

I wish I could say Doakes is
my biggest problem, but he's not.

I've seen these wounds before.

You're drooling on LaGuerta's couch.

Pulling a midnight shift?

Lopez has the trots.

- Why are you still here?
- Why not?

Nothing at home except an empty fridge
and an empty bed.

If I wasn't married
and ten years younger...

I'd still be in high school. Keep dreaming.

Wiseass.

I've been chasing leads
on the ice-truck killer.

Pathetic long shots, mostly.

Yeah? What kind of leads?

I looked at the research,
with mass murderers,

it's dumb shit that trips them up.

Son of Sam got a parking ticket
outside his own crime scene.

So you ran parking violations
at the crime scenes of our guy?

Smart.

Yeah, but none of the registered
owners had criminal records.

Try "moving violations."

Timothy McVeigh drove
way too fast on the way out of town.

Neil Perry, I know that name.

He came as a witness two weeks ago when
pieces of Tony Tucci were showing up.

He rode through a stop sign
two blocks from the third crime scene

at the Seven Seas motel.

Why would a voluntary witness
be at two separate crime scenes?

I don't know, maybe he was
chopping up hookers.

Holy mother of fuck, is this him?

Let's find out.

Is this the right address?

According to DMV,
this is where Perry lives.

With his seven inbred cousins,
by the look of it.

Something must be wrong with
somebody that can live in a steel box.

Aluminum, actually.

Nina and I had a deluxe multisectional.

- For real?
- It was our starter home.

This is our car.

One victim was seen getting in
a wood-paneled station wagon.

All right, one step at a time.
Let's find our guy.

According to his files, he works
as a computer analyst for Miami Lake.

Look up... slowly.

Take the front door, cover the exits.

- I'm going to the back.
- OK.

Open up, Perry! It's the police!

Open up, Perry! Police!

Open up, Perry!

Open the door!

Hey, Angel, I got him!

Police! Stop running, Perry!

Get the fuck down!

Fuck!

I knew I recognized
the knife work of the killer.

Jeremy Downs.

I had him.

He was mine... until I found out
the boy Jeremy killed raped him.

He fucked me and I killed him.

So I let Jeremy go.

It seemed fair.

But my random act of kindness
was misguided.

If I'd followed my instincts,

this boy's high school yearbook
would still have an editor.

Captain Matthews
is coordinating the FDLE...

to launch a statewide manhunt...

The task force will tear apart
the house for evidence

that links Neil Perry
to the ice-truck murders.

We'll need proof this time, people,
tangible proof.

What is it?

They really found the ice-truck killer?

I did.

Yes, yes.

We will financially guarantee
extradition from anywhere.

- James?
- I'm on it. I'll run the task force.

I need you and Pullman
to stay with the knife victim.

His parents are high-profile.

Whatever you need.

Angel, you found Perry.
You run the task force.

Contact the fugitive's friends, family,

coworkers, coke dealer,
anybody who might hide him.

- You want us to circulate his photo?
- In neighborhoods only.

Keep it away from the media.
This case stays low-profile.

The last thing I need is another Tony Tucci.

- Anything else, Lieutenant?
- Yes...

choose members who can put
their regular duties aside

and bust ass until
Neil Perry's apprehended.

OK. Dominic.

That's all. Thank you.

- You really think this is the guy?
- It's all lining up.

I saw him, Dex. I chased him.

Debra Morgan.

Get over here. You're on the team.

Do you hear that? I'm on the team.

You think we get hats?

Hardly looks a guy
capable of terrorizing Miami.

A science camp, maybe.

I'm off. I'll keep you in the loop.

- Where's my blood report, Sparky?
- I'm on it, Sergeant.

- How you doing, Mrs. Bennett?
- Hey, Charlie.

Where are the kids?

Your husband swung by. He didn't tell you?

I've never seen Cody light up like that.

- Big treat, the old man coming down.
- Wait, wait.

- Paul?
- He just picked up the kids.

You gave my children to Paul?
Are you stupid?

I told the administrative office
that Cody and Astor

are not to be released into his custody!

- Well, nobody told me.
- He just got out of fucking jail!

Everyone, follow strict, sterile protocol.

There will be no contamination
of my crime scene.

Bag anything that could be used to murder
or dispose of a human body.

That's pretty much everything in here, boss.

Except this.

- He's a sick fuck.
- Some might say that.

To others,
crypto-taxidermy is a fine art.

I got a mummified chupacabra at home.

Can I run Masuka's prints
as the ice-truck killer?

No need for that. I'll give you
some warm DNA right now.

God, you're gross. I didn't hear that.

Detective, I found something.

An archive of hidden files.

A lot of how-to documents,
draining blood from cattle,

- wartime amputation techniques.
- "Butchering the human carcass"?

Even an article about countries
that don't extradite to the US.

- We've got this fucker.
- We got jack shit, Morgan.

Everything in here is circumstantial.
We need hard evidence.

Hey, I'm not done looking yet. Are you?

The school had no right
to give my children to Paul.

- No, they didn't.
- He lost his custody rights

right around the time
my head hit the living-room wall.

- I would think so.
- I should be out looking for my kids.

The best thing to do for them
is stay here in case he tries to call.

What if he doesn't?

What if he kidnapped them
to get back at me for putting him in jail?

Dexter, I...

- Hi!
- I got ya.

Mom, look, it's Dad. He came home.

What, you think I was
gonna move to the moon?

Stop it. Just stop.

You know I called the police?

- I told you I took them to the carnival.
- No, you didn't.

I called you at the hotel.
They said you were on a break,

so I left a message
with the info and my cell number.

Hi. How are you?

I'm Paul Bennett, father on parole.

Dexter Morgan.

I can't think of anything clever to say.

Paul, this is unacceptable.

I have custody. You can't just take them
without my permission.

I came to see my babies.

I missed them, Rita.

I missed a lot of things.

I should phone the station,
call off the dogs.

Dexter, look, my dad's home.

I see that, buddy.

Hey, Angel.

You're the expert on manufactured living.
This closet look a little small?

A little.

Sweet.

I've got newspaper articles.

"Dismembered body found in a pool."
"Ice-truck killer appalls Miami."

- It's a record of everything he's done.
- I got photos.

- We gave the press crime scene photos?
- No.

- Did he take them himself?
- He had to.

- Did we just hit the mother lode?
- No.

We hit the motherfucking mother lode.

The evidence just keeps piling up
at the mobile home.

I just authorized an excavation
of the back patio.

- I think there's something buried there.
- What are we doing to find Neil Perry?

I put his name in the system
and notified the FBI.

- Airports on alert?
- Airports, train stations, bus lines.

- Track his credit cards.
- Already done,

along with the ATMs and bank accounts.

I also put a tap on his home phone.

- Seems you thought of everything.
- Seems that way.

- Look, Maria...
- No need to apologize.

I don't require your approval to do my job.

I know that. I've been kicking your ass
'cause I knew you had this in you.

Well, thank you for making me
the woman I am today.

I love you to everything.

I love you to everything too.

He's not gonna hit you anymore.

He told me at the carnival.

I made him promise.

Thank you, baby.

I haven't had time to process
as much as the kids.

Paul was supposed to be
locked up for another year.

Cody seems to be processing OK.

Cody's too young.

A dad's just a concept to him, not a person.

But Astor...

she remembers
what he put us through.

At least you're not married anymore.

That's just it.

Technically, we are.

When Paul went to prison,
I started divorce proceedings,

but he refused to sign the paperwork.

As a power play?

I don't think so.

I think for all the darkness that haunts him,

Paul loves having a family.

I think he's just afraid to let go.

When did you first notice it?

This darkness inside the guy you fell for.

I always knew it was there.

I guess I just didn't think I deserved better...

until I met you.

I have a dark side too.

What? I do.

Somehow I doubt that.

You have a good heart, Dexter.

You're not like Paul.
You don't hurt people.

Innocent people.

I don't hurt innocent people.

Hey, dude, the bowling alley's
around the corner.

Hey, I'm looking for Jeremy Downs.

Jeremy?

He vacated the premises!

Focus.

I'm trying to find Jeremy.

Oh, I get it.

Look, man, I'm not really
into that homo shit,

but I'm kind of short on money for weed,

so I guess I'll do it for less
than Jeremy's charging.

Wait. What does Jeremy charge?

Jeremy's selling himself?

He's always hanging out with the
Brokeback boys down at Flamingo Park.

Comes back with fistfuls of cash.

It's me. Get your ass over
to Neil Perry's place.

You'll want to see this.

- Deb, it's my day off.
- Just get over here.

We're about to bust the ice-truck killer.

Not what I expected.

So lifelike.

Hey, Dex. Thought you'd want to be here.

Something is buried down there.

I hate to break this to you,

but you know you've got
the wrong guy here, right?

The ice-truck killer drains
the blood from his victims,

freezes their bodies,
and then severs their limbs.

It's clean and efficient,
his psychological signature.

- Neil Perry stuffs roadkill.
- And turns it into fucked-up fantasy shit.

But the fantasies are wrong.

The guy we're looking for wouldn't turn
dead things into living cartoons.

- He'd find that pathetic.
- How do you know?

Because it is pathetic.

Deb, trust me. Neil Perry is not a killer.

He's a dabbler. He's a waste of time.

If our guy took his early fantasies
out on animals,

he'd bury them, not display them.

And want about an early human kill?
Would he bury that too?

- Sure. Probably.
- Then turn around.

You were saying?

It looks like an adult female.

Any idea how long
the body's been down there?

Based on decomposition,

she's been tits up
for two, maybe three years.

We'll know more after the autopsy.

What happened to the limbs?
Did they rot off?

Nope.

They're clean cuts.

But he didn't chop up the whole body.

This could be Perry's first kill,
like he was experimenting.

You're the expert, Dex. What do you think?

Sure. Sounds good.

Actually, it sounds perfectly awful.

For weeks, I've felt like
a student in a master class.

Is it really possible
that the master's on the run?

And even more tragic,
does he live in a double-wide?

The Gravitron goes so fast, Mom.
My dad took me on it three times.

Is that so?

All right, let me cut you up some fruit.

Astor wouldn't go. She was afraid.

So what? I don't like fast rides.

Hello?

- Who wants doughnuts?
- I do.

You can't walk in in whenever you want.
You don't live here anymore.

Sorry about that. Old habits.

I'll ring the doorbell next time.

I got these for you.

All right. I'll just put them in... something.

Dad, can I have a doughnut?

You got it, buddy. Coming up.

Now you're making me out
to be the bad guy?

They haven't had breakfast yet.

You know what? Kidlet, my bad.
Sorry about that.

These doughnuts are for after school.

But I could whip up
some eggs and pancakes.

- Paul!
- Very little syrup, I promise.

And meat. You into meat?

I like meat on my feet. It's real squishy.

Paul...

- You can't do this anymore.
- What? What?

Help raise my kids?

Yes, I can. That's my job.

All right, look.

I can't even begin to understand

how difficult this has been for you,
being a single mom, OK?

And for that, I'm eternally sorry.

I let you down.

I let everybody down.

But if I could just find that frying pan.

Astor, want to help me
find the frying pan?

We got a profile of Neil Perry.

He's a computer expert.

IQ off the chart. He's a loner, no priors.

Father split when he was six.

Mother was an alcoholic, abusive,

and possibly his first victim.

Roberta Perry.

Dental records say she was
the one under the patio.

Neil kept her death quiet

by cashing her social security
checks for the last two years,

but he did not kill her for the money.

Morgan?

We think he wanted release.

Roberta Perry ran her son's life,
controlled him, beat him as a kid.

He dreamt about killing her for years.

- I spoke with his cellphone provider.
- Can they track his location?

No signal. He probably
turned off his phone.

But, according to records,
he used it on some of the nights

- the victims were taken.
- Who did he call?

Voice mail, checking messages.

Verizon triangulated the location.

All the calls came from the same place,
a six-block area on Southwest 8th Street.

The Tamiami Trail.
That strip's full of no-tell motels.

It's like a happy hunting ground for hookers.

There's a chance that's
where he's killing his victims.

Let's recanvass the area for leads.

Now that we've got a photo,

maybe we can find somebody
who actually saw him.

Let's go.

You're starting to look like her.

- Want to check in with your family?
- I'd rather check in with your brother.

His instincts are usually good on this stuff.

Not today. He'd just piss on our parade.
He needs his day off.

The first time I saw his work,
I felt like a Spanish explorer

landing of the shores of the new world.

No blood in the victims,

No spatter, no stain.

Deb is wrong about him.

It's OK. Hell, I've made mistakes.

In fact, I'm about to correct
a big one right now.

Jeremy Downs.

Hey, you want company?

Just keep walking and looking ahead.

There's some mangroves over by the lake.

It's too public. My car's in the parking lot.

Are your windows tinted?

I said eyes front.

What's wrong?

Shit. Shit.

Get the fuck out of my way!

Take it easy, Jeremy! Stay right there!

Take him down! Take him down!

Hands behind your back.

Stand up! Stand up!

Miami Metro PD. Can we have a minute?

- Yeah.
- This guy look familiar?

I don't know.

They come. They go. You get it?

They "come."

Look, my feet are aching
from pounding the pavement.

You think you could help us out?

What's your name?

Lalina...

So let's try this again.

Have you seen this man?

He's a regular. Rents a room
by the month, cash.

- When was he last here?
- He's here now.

He brought a girl to his room.

- A working girl? A hooker?
- All his guests are hookers.

- What's the room number?
- 20. Here's the master.

Call for backup.
Let's hope this girl is still alive.

- Do we wait for tactical?
- Not with a possible victim in there.

Clear.

It's OK. We're here now. You're safe.

Please get me out!
Hurry, before he comes back!

- Where is he?
- Please, I want to get out!

- Where was he going?
- Liquor store.

He said he's coming right back.

What?

Where's Doakes? He paged me.

We need your report
from that kid in the alley.

It's my day off. I was at
Don Shula's famous golf course.

Did you finish your report or not?

Yeah, it's in my lab.

Wait. I'm onto you.

Excuse me?

Your crazy-ass, knife-slashing
two-step in the alley. You were right.

You said the killer
had previous experience, he did.

Oh. Really?

Masuka lifted a print from the alley
that matched a kid from juvie.

Cut up a victim five years ago.
Same knife technique.

We just grabbed him at Flamingo Park.

Great work, Sergeant.

Your instincts were dead-on.

They always are when it
comes to killers, why is that?

I'll just go get that report.

I'm watching you.

Miss me?

Police. On the ground.

Get down slowly.

Get down!

I said get the fuck down!

Facedown, let's go!

QS, we got one in custody.

What else do you want to put
in the concoction?

Gummy bears.

How do you two plan to eat that,
spread it on toast?

It already has toast in it.

So it does.

Keep mashing. I'll get the door.

Hey there, big guy.

Dexter, right?

Paul, hi. Rita's not here.

That's OK. I'm actually here for the kids.

I came to dazzle them with my booty.

This booty.

This is awkward.

I'm afraid I'm not comfortable
letting you inside without Rita here.

Who are you, anyway,
like, the baby-sitter?

I'm watching the kids right now,

so I suppose that makes me the baby-sitter.

Are you fucking my wife?

I'll let Rita know you stopped by.

Or I could just walk in. It's my house.

I own this place.
I bet she didn't tell you that.

Homeowner issues
are way over my head.

I should probably call the police,
let them sort this out.

Is that it?

Yeah.

Why don't you give those presents
to my little buckets of sunshine,

tell Rita she can reach me
at the motor court?

OK.

He might be a crack-addled,
wife-abusing yahoo,

but he refuses to abandon his kids.

I'm not sure that's a good thing.

- Take him in, I'll be right there.
- You got it.

Congratulations.

You brought down the most notorious
serial killer in Florida history.

Fuckin'-A.
He's in booking right now.

It sucks you weren't a part of this.

You and me, we paved
the way for this, right?

I'm cool. I've got my own bad guy.

I just picked up a message from Tony Tucci.

Our favorite fun-loving amputee's
getting out of the hospital.

There's a party tonight.

- No, thanks.
- I don't want to go either,

but he lost body parts, and we
can tell him we caught the guy.

- What else you got going on?
- Wouldn't you like to know?

There'll be hookers there.

All right.

Fine, Mr. Grumpyhead. Have it your way.

Did he threaten you?

No. Nothing like that.

He was just marking his territory.

Fucking bastard.

Only you could make those words cute.

Stop it.

Paul said he owns this house. Is that true?

Yeah. Yeah.

He had it before we met.
I think he got it in a drug trade.

- Dex, what am I gonna do?
- I'd start by getting a divorce.

God, this is such a mess,
and I've dragged you into it.

There, there.

I just wish he'd go away.

Why can't he just go away
and disappear forever?

He can do that...

very easily.

Fuck.

- We need to talk.
- Yeah.

Just let me grab my heart up
off the fucking floor.

Holy fuck, Rita.

Come on in.

No.

No, I'm good right here.

Oh, come on.

Don't be that way.
Come on in.

I got a six-pack in the cooler.

No.

No more.

What?

No more surprise visits to the house,

no more intimidating my friends,

and especially no more Disney-dad.

You lost your right to be a father

when you beat your children's mother.

If you want to get to know Astor and Cody,
you'll have to work for that privilege.

- Can I get a word in here, please?
- No.

Divorce papers.

They're the ones you refused
to sign in prison.

Sign them now, and I'll agree
to supervised visits twice a week.

Show me you can do that for
six months, and then maybe -

maybe - I'll think about
a non-supervised schedule.

Is this some kind of joke, Rita?

You think you can really
make me back down?

No, I don't.

But what else am I gonna do, Paul?

A judge put me in control.

I'm in control now, and I have the power

to make sure you never see
your children again

unless you do exactly as I tell you.

Goddamn, you are fine when you're mad.

I love the new you.

I do. My ass is yours to kick.

I deserve it. Here, look.

Rita, I am a changed man,

and I swear to God,
I am going to prove it to you.

All right. There she is.

Anybody bring any popcorn?

You got him.

Both of them.

- Where's Perry's lawyer?
- He waived the right.

I can't hear a thing.
Who's got the remote?

There they are, my two colleagues...

technically speaking.

Thankfully, one of them's a fraud.

...because you assume that.

So you can assume I killed them.
You can assume anything you want.

The doer is merely a fiction

that's added to the deed - the deed.

The deed is everything.

At least I hope he's a fraud.

Here's to my new hand.

Some say bravery

is being the only one
who knows you're afraid.

But I've worked with
a lot of amputees,

and I got to say, I don't think
Tony knew he was afraid.

Here's to one crazy bastard.

Kiss my atrophied ass.

- Now for the main event.
- Medical marijuana?

You wish.

Can you help me out here, Rudy?

Look at that shit.
Half-human, half-machine.

But all man, baby.

I got it.

Yeah.

May I have this dance?

You might have
a chance with me, after all.

Don't worry, there's still
plenty of me to go around.

So, you made that hand and foot?

You did a good thing.

Tony lost a piece of himself,
and I helped him find it.

How often in life do you
get to make someone whole?

I wouldn't know.

It's like living art, what you do.

It's funny you should say that,
because before I turned to prosthetics,

I studied the human form
at the university of Paris - Sorbonne.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- Have you had dinner yet?
- I would love to.

I thought I'd come and show my support.

Bad timing?

No. No.

Have some champagne, Sergeant.

See, we got blogs.

We got podcasts.

The information won't stop.

It comes into your head
and bleeds out your eyes,

and it's all crap, you know?

See, you got to dare
for greatness these days

to get people's attention.

Did I get yours?

This is worse than foreplay.
Why doesn't she ask him questions?

I have no idea what she's doing,
but my patience is wearing thin.

I gave Jeremy a chance, and he blew it.

Is this one going to disappoint me too?

That's an interesting interview technique.

I'm tired of asking questions.
You're getting off on this too fucking much.

- Getting off on what?
- The game.

I guess that's why
you didn't request a lawyer.

So you can sit here and say
whatever comes into your head.

While my ass is spreading like Cheez Whiz,

waiting for you to figure out
this isn't the fun part.

What are you talking about?

We got you dead to rights.

But the good times won't start rolling
till you're in a courtroom

with your own personal Judge Ito,

and Court TV
carrying your scary-ass scowls

and crazy shit live.

Fascination with serial killers
is an American pastime.

You got groupie housewives,

magazine profiles,

maybe even a summer
blockbuster movie...

all waiting for you.

But the feeding frenzy won't start
till you throw out the chum.

So now I'm just gonna chill.

You're right.

This isn't the fun part.

The fun part...

- was hanging them like cattle.
- Hanging who?

The hookers...

right before I cut their throats.

Son of a bitch.

I used gravity boots
to hang them upside down

to drain the blood.

Then...

That shit is privileged.

- The press never got ahold of that.
- I dipped them in liquid nitrogen

to freeze the blood before I cut them
into nice, clean pieces.

Yes.

See, you got to understand...
I hate blood.

And there it is.

All the expectations I had,

all the promises of greatness wiped out.

My circle of friends is down to one.

How... What are you doing here?
Are you a cop?

The cameras are off.
I have one minute.

Tell me why. I need to know.

- Why what?
- Don't!

You killed again.
I told you, I warned you...

Don't kill anyone
who doesn't deserve to die.

Why did you do it?

To feel something different.

Different than what?

What do you normally feel?

Nothing.

Fucking nothing at all.

I hate every fucking goddamn second of it.

I can't stand it, living my life in my head.

Does killing make it better?

No.

Worse.

Fucking worse than ever.

Put your hands on the table.

Do it.

I'm a lot like you, you know?

Yeah, right. You're a killer?

I'm empty...

but I found a way to make it feel
less bottomless.

How?

Pretend.

You pretend the feelings
are there for the world,

and for the people around you.

Who knows?
Maybe one day they will be.

What the hell are you doing?

Scraping under the nails for blood.

Get out.

I want ten more minutes with this piece
of shit before his lawyer shows.

Stand up!

Living my life in my head...

I know exactly what Jeremy means.

At least I had someone to talk to -
Harry, my foster father.

He spent endless hours
teaching me how to survive.

Excuse me, are you
Jeremy Downs' lawyer?

Yes. I'm just heading over to see him.

Sooner would be better.

- Seriously.
- Thank you.

My mom died when I was 16, cancer,

and then it was just me,
my brother, my dad.

- You have a brother?
- Yeah. Dexter.

He and my dad were really tight.

They were always spending time together.
I guess I was jealous.

You mean you weren't daddy's little girl?

No, I was, kind of.

He just took a special interest
in Dex, you know?

I think that's why I became a cop.
That's what he was.

I thought maybe he would give me
more attention.

And did he?

Not really...

but we had our moments.

What about you?
How'd you become...

Captain Hook?

Well, when I was little,
my mom got in a car accident,

and she lost both her legs.

That's terrible.

I remember when it happened,

I just wanted to put her back together,

you know, like Humpty Dumpty.

Just the pieces weren't around.

I'm going to miss my playmate.

Sure, there's Rita and the kids,
but they don't know the real me...

can never know the real me.

And now the father is back.

Things have changed.

Everything has changed.

I always prided myself on being an outsider,

but now...

I feel the need to connect with someone.

I saw myself in Jeremy...

but instead of helping him
like Harry helped me,

I gave him a piece of fortune-cookie advice
that he never even heard.

I failed him.

He deserves better...

and he'll get it from now on.

I guess I was wrong.

Jeremy did hear my advice.

He killed someone who deserved to die.

- What's the status on Perry?
- I'm having him transferred right now.

The DA wants to keep him at County,
pending arraignment.

Maria, it was your decision making

that led to his capture and arrest,

and you made all our lives easier
by getting the bastard to confess.

I'm just doing my job.

It feels good to be praising your police work
instead of your politics for a change.

We need to make an official comment. Don't
worry. I'll keep it short.

I'm heading downstairs
for the press conference.

The press conference is over.

Oh, and don't worry.

I kept it short.

You got to be fucking kidding me.

That was my bust.

This is my department.

Did you at least give me credit?

Yes. I just gave it to you.
Haven't you been listening?

Ever since Harry's death, I've been alone...

but now, for the first time...

I feel alone.

How long you need
with the prisoner?

As long as I can get.

Jeremy is gone,

and Neil Perry will soon vanish
into the catacombs of the system.

I have so many questions for him.

How did he discover my secrets?

What was his message to me?

He's been in my home,

my photos... my life.

He knows me.

Now I need to know him...

...to connect face-to-face

before he's beyond my reach forever.

Hi.

Who the fuck are you?