Dexter (2006–2013): Season 1, Episode 9 - Father Knows Best - full transcript

Dexter learns that his biological father, Joe Driscoll, who he thought had been long dead, has only recently died and has left all of his belongings to Dexter, including his house.

Previously on Dexter...

What if the ice-truck
killer does disappear?

No, he's got unfinished business with me.

"Dear Ken, I'm in pieces.
Why the cold shoulder? Love, Barbie."

Paul called after you left.

He's already out of jail. Overcrowding.
Can you believe it?

Are you fucking my wife?

Next time, we'll figure
out what to tell the kids.

- So you don't have to sneak out like this.
- You want there to be a next time?

I just wish he'd go away. Why can't he
just go away and disappear forever?

- I so want to maul you right now.
- I so want you to.



It's different.

It feels like...

I hate saying this.
It sounds fucking cheesy.

It feels like making love.

"Barbie, be patient.
One day we'll share a cold one."

Thank God for showers.

Private time to think -

harder to come by now that
I'm in a real relationship.

- Do you mind?
- Not at all.

- Could you pass the soap?
- Yeah.

Mom, I got to pee!

I'll be right there, sweetie!

- Hold on a second, buddy!
- I can't!

- Sorry. One-bathroom house.
- Nature calls.



Cool. How did you get that ugly scar?

- Cody.
- Sword fight. I won.

- Mom, I got to brush.
- Whatever happened to knocking?

I'm gonna be late for school.

You brush, you pee, I'm just gonna...

Wow, big scar.

Sword fight. He won.

I mean, what does separation mean to you?

To me is that you're separated,
And you work it out.

Now, this was false pretences.

Nina knew she wanted a divorce when
she asked for the separation. She lied.

And you didn't when you
were cheating on her, right?

"Cheat". One cheat.

- That's in the singular.
- One. OK.

And I felt so crappy, I told her the next day.

- Your problem is you're too honest.
- She wouldn't even talk about it.

And I tried to get her to see
a counselor with me.

Stop the car, man! Stop the goddamn car!

Hey!

Stop! Police!

- You all right?
- Yeah.

The suspect's name was Jacques Bayard,
according to his driver's license.

- Haitian?
- That'd be my guess.

All right. Let's go over it again.

I saw a gun in the suspect's waistband.

I went to question him,
and he took off running.

- Angel, you saw all this.
- Yeah, I saw Bayard bolt,

and I turned the car around in pursuit.

- And when you went under the causeway...
- He took a shot at me.

I took cover and returned fire from that corner.

No, not from there.

Yes, from fucking there.

But...

if you shot him from right there,
the blood spatter would go in that direction.

You questioning me?
I got questions for you.

- The man's doing what he's supposed to.
- He is a creep job!

Just focus on the facts, OK?

The DA's team is ready for you. You good?

- I'm good.
- Yeah.

You're up next.

Sorry, but I didn't invent physics.

He just got mixed up, is all.

I'm not even sure what the hell happened.

Trauma can distort the memory.

I want you and Rita to meet my boyfriend.

- It's hard to get a baby-sitter on Friday night.
- You're my brother.

- You should know my boyfriend.
- You really like using the B word.

Rudy is my goddamn boyfriend,
so stop making bullshit excuses.

Honestly, our last double date
was a little awkward.

I just want to make sure this one's gonna stick.

Well, thanks for the vote
of fucking confidence.

Dex, Rudy's different.

I feel safe with him. I think... I'm falling for him.

Excuse me.
Where can I find Dexter Morgan?

- Right here.
- Oh, that was easy.

An urgent registered letter?
Maybe you won a sweepstakes.

- Dex, you got a second?
- Yeah.

You finish your report on the shooting?

I'm walking it up to IA right now.

You still think Doakes' version doesn't add up?

Blood never lies.

Shit. Listen, um...

- Can you sit on that till I talk to Doakes?
- Here.

No, it's yours to sit on, stand on.
Do what you want.

- Thanks.
- You're welcome.

It's a federal of fence to read
someone else's mail.

"We regret to inform you
of the death of your father"?

- Dad died ten years ago.
- This isn't about Harry.

"Joseph Driscoll of Dade City, Florida,
names his son, Dexter Morgan of Miami,

"as his executor." It's a will.

He can't be your biological father. Dad said
he died before you came to live with us,

he wouldn't make a mistake like that.

"The body's awaiting cremation
while they notify the next of kin."

Hey, I'm your only next of kin.
Don't you fucking forget it.

Oh, and I inherited a house.

I know the truth, because Harry
always told me the truth.

He had to.
He was teaching me principles, a code.

He knew what I would become without it.

So Joseph Driscoll of Dade City
must have been mistaken.

You know what this is?

This is Dexter's new birth certificate.

The adoption finally went through.

- You're a Morgan now.
- I thought I was already a Morgan.

Well, you have been to us,
but it's official now.

It took a long time and a lot of hurdles.

- This is an important day for us.
- Hey, Dad?

How come you never told us
what happened to Dexter's real parents?

Well, they died.

- I know, but how?
- I don't know.

- Let's not talk about it.
- No, how did they die, Dad?

It was an accident, a tragic accident.

So, have you found out anything else
about this Joe Driscoll?

Well, I looked online.
I even looked at police records.

There are no birth records, no driver's license,
just the deed to the house.

And a mention in the local paper
about his bowling team.

- That's odd.
- Yeah, I spoke to the probate lawyer,

the guy who drafted the will,
and apparently Joseph Driscoll

was an insurance adjuster of sound mind,

with no doubts about who I was.

You're not feeling any of this, are you?

You're obviously so overwhelmed
that you've shut down.

Maybe.

- It's too much for you to handle.
- Yeah. I guess.

- So I think I should come with you.
- Oh, no, you don't have to do that.

Trust me. You'll need me.

Did I fall asleep?

Sex like that takes a lot out of a person.

Are we still seeing your brother
Friday night?

No. He's got to go to Dade City.

- What's in Dade City?
- I told you he was adopted, right?

Some dead guy in Dade fucking City
thought he was his biological father

- and left him a house.
- Really?

- It's a mistake, a big one.
- Still, though, that's got to...

Open up some old wounds.

- When are you leaving?
- Me?

I'm staying in bed with you all weekend.

- I thought you two were close.
- We are.

Dex likes to deal with things on his own.
He doesn't need my help.

Or...

He doesn't know how to ask for it.

I left a message not to have
this conversation.

Yeah, which is why I hustled over here,

- so we could hash this out like adults.
- I'm an adult but I'm still going out of town.

Not if it means blowing off
my scheduled visit with my kids.

That's not your call.
The kids are already at Colleen's.

You can have your visit when we get back.

It's just that I already laid out cash
for the tickets.

A death in the family trumps the circus.

Dexter is not your family. I am.

You ready?

Hey, Paul. Better hit the road.

They should serve a cardiologist
with these burgers.

We had to eat them.
Junk food's the unwritten rule of the road.

It's nice.

The lawyer said there should be
a key under the mat.

- Are you my new neighbors?
- No.

We're just here to clear up
some things with the estate.

So sad about Mr. Driscoll.

He was only 60, you know -
too young for a heart attack.

He used to clean my gutters every fall.
I don't know what I'm gonna do now...

Unless you know how to clean gutters.

We're not gonna be here for that long.
But you have a good day.

A bachelor lived here, that's for sure.

We can head back tomorrow morning,
as soon I straighten things out at the morgue.

I don't want a house in Dade City.

Which means it's gonna need to be packed up.

And I don't think anybody else is gonna do it,
so I guess that leaves us.

Told you you'd need me.

- Hey, James.
- Hey, man.

IA is pressing me
on my report of the shooting.

- Yeah.
- There's one thing that I can't get clear on.

- It's pretty clear from where I was standing.
- Yeah...

Except I could have sworn that I heard
your 9mm go off before the .38.

Now, there's lots of reasons
it could have gone down that way.

If Bayard even just aimed at you,
it's still all right to shoot.

- Except he shot first.
- Maybe you're confused about that, too.

But the blood-spatter report says
it couldn't have gone that way.

- You saying I'm a liar?
- I'm saying maybe you're not remembering.

This may come as a shock to you, Angel,
but you're not the only honest cop in Miami.

Look, I just want to know
why a man is dead.

- You want to come at me, you do it straight.
- You want it straight? I did not see a gun.

Angel. I need to talk to you.

Help me out, man.

- Is that Joe?
- Must be.

It's weird, but he looks a little bit like you...
But not really.

Those seem to be the only pictures
in the house. There's no...

family or kids' photos.

Lonely.

Dexter.

- Hi.
- Hey.

Surprise.

I know you can't ask for my help,
but it's my duty to,

you know...

help while you deal with old wounds.

Or wha...
Jesus. Whatever. I'm here.

- So it appears.
- And this is Rudy.

Hey.

I've waited a long time to meet you.

And you must be Rita.

- Hi.
- Hi.

He came here for me - for the both of us.
Isn't he great?

A lot of work to pack all this up.

Even with the four of us,
it'll take us the whole weekend.

- The weekend?
- Where should I put our stuff?

It's too eerie,
sleeping in a dead man's house.

I saw a Motel 6 on the way in.

We could stay here and save the money.

I mean, it is late,

and we'd probably get more
packing done if we stayed here.

It's up to you, Dex. Just say the word.

As long as you don't mind the sofa bed.

OK, I'll go look for some clean sheets.

How did a death
turn into a couples' weekend?

Luckily, I get up earlier than normal people.

Coffee?

Thanks. I've got to hit the morgue.

Want company?

No.

- Thank you, though.
- It's private.

I get it.

I gave Joe a physical once a year,
like clockwork,

so no history of heart disease, but it happens.

It appears so.

We were about to send him
to a crematorium when we found you.

We thought his son should have a chance
to pay his last respects.

I'm not his son.

Estrangement in a family is a shame, but...

death is the great unifier.

That's an interesting tattoo.

Joe said he picked that up in Nam.
You can be proud. He was a patriot.

- Perhaps he was also an ex-convict.
- Excuse me?

It's a prison tattoo,
it's a pen and ballpoint ink one.

It's three or four decades old,
judging by the fade.

Son, I knew Joe. He was no ex-convict.

He was a good man, a quiet man,
and a damn good bowler.

How'd you determine cardiac arrest?
Was there damage to the coronary artery?

It's professional curiosity.

- I work in forensics, down in Miami.
- I see.

Well, I found micro aneurisms in the retinas.

It's common with seizures
during a heart attack.

It's also a sign of diabetic retinopathy.

Son, I may be a small-town doctor,
but I know a heart attack when I see one.

Who knows what caused it?

Stress, inactivity...

French fries.

But knowing won't bring him back.

It's hard to accept so many unanswered
questions, but sometimes...

No, you're right...

Dr. Pittman.

Yeah, this is really hard.

You mind if I just take
a minute alone with... Dad?

I'll be next door in my office.

Masuka.

Hey, it's Dexter Morgan.

- Dude, I know your last name.
- I need a favor, a DNA comparison.

I thought you were away with the girlfriend.

- What? She surfing the crimson wave?
- I'm just helping out a local agency.

I'm gonna send you two blood samples.
I need it ASAP.

- Do a tox screen, will you?
- Hey, Romeo,

if this is your idea of a romantic weekend,
you will be a bachelor for a long time.

Run another IV.
Let's keep his blood levels volumized.

- What's his pressure?
- It's 80 and dropping.

We may need to do a belly tap.

Hey, Dex. Buddy, I'm here.

- It hurts, Dad.
- What happened?

He tried to climb a fence
to get Debra's ball,

but a dog chased after him,
and he fell on a wrought-iron post.

- Is he gonna be all right?
- We can keep him stable for a while.

But he's gonna need surgery to repair some
internal bleeding. That's a problem.

Can we talk over here, please?
Dex, I'll be right back.

Hold your brother's hand, sweetie.

OK, the complication is
with your son's blood type.

- I don't want to talk about this.
- Why are you being like this?

Don't mention that in front of anybody.

Are you crazy? He could die.
You've got to go now.

So, you heard the .38 go off before
Sergeant Doakes' 9mm.

Then I went under the causeway,
and I saw the suspect...

- Mr. Bayard.
- ..Mr. Bayard on the ground,

- his gun lying next to him.
- And you're sure it was Mr. Bayard's gun?

Well, the .38 wasn't mine... and
Sergeant Doakes had his niner in his hands.

Did you see Mr. Bayard carrying the gun
before the foot chase began?

Sergeant Doakes did.

Did you see Mr. Bayard acting suspiciously?

- Did you know Mr. Bayard was a janitor?
- I... How the fuck would I know that?

Never got even a parking ticket since
he immigrated from Haiti 15 years ago.

He got a lot more than that this time,
didn't he?

Are you sure you heard the .38 go off
before Sergeant Doakes' 9mm?

Joe bought this house outright in 1976.

- Paid cash, no records before that.
- No records, no childhood photos...

The guy was 60,
but it's like his life started when he was 30.

- You know, you're right. He's right.
- So, what happened

between years one and 29?

- Maybe he butchered his entire family.
- Yeah,

or he walked out on his two wives
and a lot of bad debt.

The guy was a loser, after all.
Who else owns this many bowling balls?

- What do you think, Dex?
- I think Joe spent some time in prison,

probably mixed with some bad people.
Maybe he had to hide from them.

Whatever it was, drugs were involved.
Narcotics anonymous.

Paul used to get these, except he never
made it past the welcome chip.

- Looks like Joe was clean for...
- Let me guess - 30 years.

Joe said no to the drugs,
but not his rock 'n' roll.

Nothing in his collection post-1980.
Got to love a purist.

Oh, good. Dancing.

- Hello?
- Hey, babe. It's Paul.

Just making sure dear Dexter

is dealing decently with his dead dad.

We're fine. Everyone's fine, all right?

- We'll see you on Monday.
- No, no, no.

Talk to me. You having fun? 'Cause I'm not.

- Paul.
- I would have.

I could have taken my kids to the circus.

We'd be eating peanuts right now,
stepping in elephant shit.

Paul, this's not helping my confidence in you.

Oh, I think you've got enough
confidence for both of us.

Look, if you want to work towards
building more visitation days,

you need to avoid this behavior right here.

Now, I think you might just want
to politely hang up.

OK. You're right.

I'm sorry.

You have a great weekend.

A secret life - the only thing
Joe and I have in common.

There's nothing else
in this house to connect us.

Hiding out?

Cleaning up.

I can only imagine what you're going through.

A lot of lemon-fresh joy.

You joke. It's a good defense, by the way.

Thank you, I think.

Still, the possibility has
got to be weighing on you.

- What possibility?
- That Joe could actually be your dad.

The only way that's a possibility
is if Harry was wrong.

- And that's just not possible.
- Or he lied.

Don't you worry, little man.
You're not gonna feel a thing.

I thought there was a problem,
you know, the blood?

Your dad fixed it.

See, you have a very special
blood type - AB negative.

It's hard to come by,
and our supply was low.

But your dad knew somebody
with blood like yours. You're lucky.

- Can I have a moment with my son?
- Yeah.

Hey, Dex. Everything's gonna be fine.
You'll be good as new.

- I will?
- Hey, would I lie to you?

When my father was dying,
he just asked me for one thing.

"Be an honest man."

That's all he asked.

I made him that promise,
and that's why I'm a cop.

Now this Haitian man is dead,

and I don't know why.

But I know it ain't right.

But if I talk...

I'll be a rat to the whole precinct.

- But if I lie...
- Hold on.

Go ahead.

The blood spatter
doesn't match Doakes' report.

Also...

...I heard Doakes' 9mm go off before the .38.

- But he must have had good cause.
- So Doakes fired first.

Doakes fired first.

- I hope tuna's all right.
- Love me a little mercury.

- It's Dexter's.
- He's out stealing garbage space...

- from the neighbors.
- Criminal - I like it.

It's the station.

Morgan here.

Wait. Did I call the hot Morgan by mistake?

Freudian.
My subconscious has been exposed.

- Well, zip it up and tell me what's going on.
- I got the results.

On Doakes' shooting? Is he cleared?

- On the DNA test.
- What DNA test?

You trusted Dad your entire life,
so why question him now?

- Am I missing something?
- DNA test?

Masuka called?

Your biological father was dead.
Dad told us that. I remember.

So, the DNA came back negative?

It was a match.

Joe Driscoll was your bio dad.

Interesting.

Do you think Dad... lied?

I think he might have known Joe was here...

five hours up I-95 my whole life.

He must have had a damn good reason.

I'm not gonna let some guy you
didn't even know draw him into question.

Deb, I'm not questioning anything.

That's why you got a tox screen, too.

I need to clear my head.

Where are your car keys?

I ordered the tox screen because
Joe had no history of heart disease.

- And the coroner's report was inept.
- You did it because he's important to you.

- It was professional curiosity.
- So you'll be professionally glad

to know that the only toxin
in his system was a sedative,

which he probably took to...

- I don't know, sleep.
- That would surprise me.

Joe was 30 years sober,

and I haven't found anything
stronger than Advil in his medicine cabinet.

It wouldn't be
the first addict falling off the wagon.

Or someone slipped him the sedative

so he wouldn't struggle
once injected with something.

- Like?
- Diabetic insulin.

It can cause cardiac arrest.
We've seen it before.

It's nearly impossible to detect unless
you find a point of injection.

- But if I had a chance to examine the body...
- Jesus Christ!

He's not even your family.

Mom and Dad were. I am.

- Will you start questioning me now?
- You? Why would I...

Joe Driscoll was
obviously bad fucking news,

which is why Dad didn't want you
to know anything about him!

Doesn't that matter to you?

I don't know what you want from me.

I want what Dad wanted.
I want nothing to do with this guy.

Let's just finish packing up
this crappy house and walk the fuck away!

All right. That sounds like a good plan. OK?

I guess I understand why Deb is upset.

We both idolized Harry,
lived by what he taught us...

Though Deb never had
to be taught not to kill innocent people.

That's why she doesn't understand
why I need to know.

Howdy, neighbor. Let me get that for you.

Oh. Well, thank you.

I was wondering, did you notice any visitors
over at Joe's last week?

Visitors? Oh, I'm not sure.

I'm just wondering
if he has any outstanding bills.

A gardener, maybe,
or a delivery person, repairman?

Well, come to think of it,
there was a cable repairman here last week.

He was polite.

But, you know,
he couldn't fix my TV antenna.

You remember what he looked like?

Well, he had dark hair...

average height, normal, I suppose.

I did some checking
on our suspect Jacques Bayard.

You lending IA a hand?

I just like to know what's
going on in my department.

And what is going on?

Turns out Mr. Bayard changed
his name when he immigrated here.

Used to be Rene Thibault,

a former officer in the Haitian military.

Didn't your tour in the army
include some special op in Haiti?

Right.

Special means you don't talk about it.

But I know you've heard
as many horror stories as I have,

about what went on down there
with those death squads.

What were they called?

Tonton Macoutes.

Yeah, "the bogeymen."

They did a lot of terrible things,

killed a lot of people.

They made mothers carry
the heads of their dead sons.

Forced fathers to rape their daughters.

Tied cinder blocks around
people's necks and drowned them

and put mutilated bodies in trees and
killed anybody who tried to take them down.

This man, Jacques Bayard,

if he did those things...

He deserved a lot worse than he got.

Don't worry, James. It'll be over soon.

I know it will.

If Joe was shot up with insulin,
there will be an injection welt...

maybe between his toes or in a freckle.

If it's there, I'll find it.

Small towns.

Come on, Dr. Pittman,
which crematorium did you send Joe to?

Hey! You! Stop!

Come on!

Get in!

Heard you sneak out.

- Took a guess where you were headed.
- Figuring I'd need a ride?

Figured I could talk you out of it.
No such luck, huh?

- Deb will be delighted.
- As far as I know, you went out for a walk.

Jesus, did you steal something?

My fingerprints were all over it. I figured
it was prudent to get rid of the evidence.

It's just a box of ashes.

- Joe was cremated, then.
- Yep.

Guess you weren't able to find out
if he was injected with anything.

No.

- What are you gonna do with him?
- I don't know.

Dumpster?

I have a better idea.

You know...

No matter what Harry said,
no matter what Deb thinks,

- that's your father.
- Cardboard box.

I know you don't want to acknowledge it,

which is why you're breaking and entering,

searching for some killer.

But you took that

because there's a part of you...

that knows that this...

That box...

is your real father.

My father.

Sounds strange.

I know.

Oh, hey.

- You all right?
- I was just getting some air.

I found something in Joe's closet.

It's just a bunch of papers.
They're over there.

Any clues?

Hey, buddy.

- How you feeling?
- Good.

It kind of itches,
but they have ice cream here.

Life's a trade-off.

- What are you making there?
- A thank-you card.

See? The nurse brought me
the crayons and everything.

Who's it for?

Well, she said I should thank
the man who gave me the blood.

I mean, that's normal, right,
giving thank-you cards?

Yes, it is.

It's just that he's gone.

And we won't be seeing him again.

- I'm sorry.
- That's all right, it doesn't mean anything.

Yeah, it does. You keep drawing, son.

- I'll make sure it finds him.
- OK.

You had the case dropped?

Excuse me.

IA dropped Doakes' case.

Do you seriously think
I have any say over what IA does?

I put everything on the line.
I told IA the truth,

and there's a lot of evidence to back that up.
What the hell happened?

- Maria, I deserve to know.
- All I know is that IA got a call

from an agency in Washington.

- What agency?
- I'm guessing military.

They said the case involves
some sensitive foreign-relations issues...

- so they will handle it from there.
- They disappeared it.

Doakes had a history with them
I figured special forces,

- but this kind of reach...
- You think it was Black Ops, CIA?

Maybe. Probably.

- And I ratted him out. Jesus Christ.
- Angel...

You did what you thought was right.

- Squeak, squeak.
- Do you have a problem?

Officer Benson,

you just bumped into your superior.

I believe you owe Detective Batista
an apology!

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry, sir.

I know I should be sorry
that we met under these circumstances,

but truthfully, I think
it was the best way to get to know you.

Realtor says you won't get much for it.

- Well... more than if I kept it.
- Are we good?

We're fine.

All right. I'll see you back at the station.

Cable repairman.

Wait! Wait! No, no, don't go.

Wait!

Please, I want to ask you something.

Wait!

- Alone again.
- Finally.

You know what?

- I'm glad you were here.
- Thought you would be.

The cable repairman...

Did he say anything
about my TV antenna?

Rita, it's me.

They're asleep.

Yeah, well, I should have been here, OK?

It's late, you're drunk and you can't
keep coming here unannounced.

- You don't call the shots, OK?
- Look, Paul, I want you to leave.

I don't give a fuck what you want.

- I want my fucking kids!
- You're gonna scare them.

They don't want to see me?
They are gonna remember

who the head of this fucking family is. Hey!

You're right. I've been awful.

I just didn't realize I was hurting you so much.

But I can make it up to you. Let me try.

Where are you going?

Want to play rough?
Huh? Is that what you want?

No! No!

Fuck you, whore.

Come on. Come on!

Wake up. Wake up. Come on.

I had a father...

someone other than Harry
who called me son.

The thought never even occurred to me.

Harry was all I needed.

It was Harry who always had the answers.

He knew who was good, bad, safe...

And dangerous.

I built my life on Harry's code.

I lived by it.

But Harry lied.

Why would he do that?

What else don't I know?

My concrete foundation is turning
to shifting sand.

Maybe Rudy was right.

You never can truly know anyone.