Mr. Mercedes (2017–…): Season 1, Episode 2 - On Your Mark - full transcript

Previously on "Mr. Mercedes"...

Showing up to a jobs fair
in a Mercedes-Benz.

Sign of the times, I guess, right?

Maybe it's the Mayor, coming
to check out his big to-do.

Got 16 dead, triple that in injuries.

- Somebody lost control.
- He didn't lose control.

Retirement... you hate it, don't you?

It's an adjustment.

When was the last time you had sex?

You propositioning me, Ida?

You need to find some sort of purpose.



- Jerome!
- Shit!

You any good at computers?

Yeah. You know I am.

Is it possible for a file
to just disappear on its own?

Whoever did this knows his shit.

And this is your job right here, Brady.

Now, whether you choose
to see me as such or not,

I'm sort of your mentor in life.

Was it ever disclosed
that the Smiley Face sticker

was found on the steering wheel?

Of all the cases
for you to obsess over...

- 16 people died!
- I'm still on the case.

You're retired.

Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx
www.addic7ed.com



♪ The wind turns like a dagger ♪

♪ The rain falls like a hammer ♪

♪ The sky has grown dark ♪

♪ But it's not too late ♪

♪ The weather crashes down ♪

♪ What's lost cannot be found ♪

♪ The night is closing ♪

♪ But it's not too late ♪

♪ It's not too late ♪

♪ It's not too late ♪

♪ The atmosphere is lethal ♪

♪ But I will fear no evil ♪

♪ Happy birthday, dear Patti ♪

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Yay!

You did so good!

Can you smile for the camera?

Look right at Grandma.

Oh, it's certainly a big day,
one month old.

You know, if you were a dog,
you'd be like five years old.

Is that right?

I think you got the math
a little backwards, sweetie.

Oh, yeah. That's okay.

I think we'll leave
the math tutoring to Grandma,

and then I'll stay in charge of fashion.

I bet when you grow up

you might be the first woman president.

Wouldn't that be something?

We can dream, right, Grandma?

Okay.

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Who's out there?

Who's there?

I'm not in the fucking mood.

I will blow your head off,
so help me, God.

Freeze!

Fred, for fuck's sake.

Freeze! You!

Freeze!

Don't you fucking move!

I'll blow your head off!
You're a goddamn dead man!!

Jesus fucking Christ.

What the hell were you doing in there?

Bill? What's the matter?

Call an ambulance.

Oh, my God!

Just call an ambulance, would you?

Yeah.

It's good and broke.
But you're gonna be fine.

Please, help me.

We don't know right now...

Who is he?

He's the neighbor, lives next door.

Always playing street hockey.

What was he doing in your back yard?

I dunno. Climbing the fence.

Here. Drink this. Quickly.

What?

Your breath. You smell like a saloon.

Loaded man, loaded gun,
it's not good, Bill.

Drink it! God.

What happened was this:

I saw you becoming unhinged
after the incident.

You were having a panic attack.

I brought you whiskey
to calm your nerves.

Do it.

With any luck, somebody
will catch it on camera.

You can introduce it
at your trial as Exhibit A.

You almost shot a kid, Bill.

He snuck out to go to a party.

You evidently caught him
sneaking back in.

Is he gonna be okay?

Mangled his arm good.

- He said you had a gun.
- I did, yeah.

I thought he was an intruder.

I got a permit for the gun,
I'm a retired police officer.

Decorated retired detective.

This is Bill Hodges.

Ugh.

Where's the weapon now?

Back in the house.

Needed to calm my nerves.

Too much adrenaline,
it's not good for the heart.

The boy said you pointed the gun

at his head and threatened him.

Yeah, well, like I said,
I thought he was an intruder.

I was scared for my life.

There a problem?

Nope.

Fucking dick.

Are you sure you're okay?

I've got an herb tea I like before bed.
It calms me if I'm anxious.

I'm good. Bourbon hit the spot.

Thank you, Ida. I'm fine.

- You don't look fine.
- I am.

Thank you again.

Bill, retirement messes
with some people.

Yeah, that seems to be a running theme.

You know, for what it's worth,
I'm good with mess.

Look at the way I live.

Life is s'posed to be messy,
I read it somewhere.

Well, seems like you're
right where you want to be.

- Well, I'm just next door.
- Yep, thank you.

Good night.

We don't give warranties with repairs.

That is only on new products.

Don't stand behind your work?

We do, uh, we're very proud
of our service.

Uh, our policy with warranties,
however...

Yeah, fine.

Thank you for your patronage, sir.

What was that?

Oh, um... that's also
a policy that we have.

We thank customers
for their continued patronage.

Can I say something?

I may be out of line, but...

Oh, yeah, no. Please.
Yeah, it's a free country.

I mean, sort of.

I have small children.
Sometimes, I bring them with me.

I have no problem
with alternative lifestyles.

But when it's flaunted...

kids might get the idea
that it's not alternative.

That it's normal.

That's a message that concerns me.

I understand.

And not to exacerbate your concern,

but, uh... there was this recent study

out of Germany that says that by 2060

homosexuals are gonna completely
rule the world.

Actually, just the dykes.

The pansies, well,
they'll still be pansies.

Thank God, right?

Freak.

What... the fuck... was that?

Did you hear what he said to me?

I don't care. He's a customer.

So he's allowed to gay-bash?

Yes. He's the fucking customer.

Oh my God, Lou.
You act like people need us,

like they gotta come here.

Why don't we just hang a sign that says,

"We sell shit, but we don't take it,"

it'll save us a little time.

And you. Brady?

It is not appropriate for you
to find her funny. Ever.

Our bread and butter... our lifeline...

is customer service.

It's the only thing
that tethers us to survival,

customer fucking service.

Wait. Did you just smile again?

I'm sorry.

You're not sorry, Brady.

I have a compass for contrition.
You're not sorry at all.

Alright.

We're all three gonna
revisit this at lunchtime.

- Robi.
- And certain issues will be addressed.

There are certain realities you
both need to be made aware of.

I hate reality checks.

So you got this by e-mail?

Yeah, that had the link to
the... to the other UVid shit.

Family evidently
posted this as, you know,

some kind of memorial tribute
or whatever.

Okay, so our guy...

Distorted it, and then sent
the distorted version to me.

Distorted it exactly how?

Just... He just had some stuff
coming out of her mouth.

The point is,

it's not in the original
UVid thing, you know?

Yeah.

Well, this guy is still
covering his tracks

pretty good with the e-mail itself.

Wow, this guy's really trying to
get into your head, isn't he?

Yeah, seems so.

And this lady,
she was one of the victims

of that Mercedes thing?

Yeah, sh-she and the baby both.

Yeah, hello?

Bill, you shoot anybody today?

Or almost?

You're hysterical.

We need to have
a little talk, my friend.

Yeah, why is that?

Because there's a kid lying
in a hospital bed right now

whose head you almost
blew off last night.

Come on down to the station.

He was trespassing on my property.

In the middle of the night!

Come down to the station, Bill.
I'm serious.

Fuck.

♪ Well, I stepped into an avalanche ♪

♪ It covered up my soul ♪

- Fuck.
- ♪ When I am not this ♪

♪ Hunchback that you see ♪

♪ I sleep beneath the golden hill ♪

Fuck it!

♪ You who wished to conquer pain ♪

♪ You must learn,
learn to serve me well ♪

♪ You strike my side by accident ♪

♪ As you go down for your gold ♪

♪ The cripple here
that you clothe and feed ♪

♪ Is neither starved nor cold ♪

♪ He does not ask for your company ♪

♪ Not at the center,
the center of the world ♪

♪ It is your turn, beloved ♪

♪ It is your flesh that I wear ♪

How you doing?

- Hey, Bill. How you doing?
- Good, yeah.

Never better.

- What do you want?
- How deep in the bag were you?

Not at all.

A little bourbon to calm my nerves.

By 2:00 in the morning, I figure
you to be pretty much a skunk.

You're outside in your
pajamas with a loaded gun.

By all reports, you looked shit-faced.

You pointed your weapon at a teenager,

one whose head
you threatened to blow off.

Anybody else but you,
you're in a jail cell.

Lucky to be me I guess.

What were you doing just now
in the parking lot?

What do you mean?

I mean you were standing there
in a fucking daze.

- I wasn't in a daze.
- What were you doing?

I was just looking around.
And smelling shit.

You were smelling shit?

Yeah, my sensories opened up,
and I was smelling shit.

I was just taking
some measure... that's all.

M-Measure? Measure of what?

Of everything.

The units, the buildings...

the place I used to belong.

Smells, colors,
stuff I never did before.

Imagine that? 30-years-plus a detective,

in the business of seeing this shit

that other lay eyes don't notice.

And you miss things
right in front of your nose.

That's what I was doing
in the parking lot.

Just seeing and smelling
the shit right in front of me.

Bill, how... how much have
you been drinking lately?

Not enough.

Last night, for example,

I was interrupted by the trespasser.

The latest medical wisdom
on men of advancing years

is they might want to cut back
on downing their weight

in vodka and beer.

Crazy talk.

You'll die, Bill. Like, real soon.

Fuck off.

You... You nearly shot a kid.

I didn't nearly shoot a kid.

You did. A child.
Get that through your head.

Almost put an empty chair
at the table for his family

to look at the rest of their lives.

Please, tell me you get that.

Garbage men and... and...
and guys who sell insurance

can retire clean.

But we... we have all these
cases we thought

we'd get another crack at.

You get up every day now knowing
you didn't catch that perp,

clear that case, didn't...
didn't speak up for that victim.

The motivational part of
the speech coming up, is it?

Find a goal.

Painting, model airplanes,
some fucking thing.

I don't want to go to
your funeral in six months.

They'll make me a pallbearer,

and you're too fucking fat to carry.

I'll tweak my back,
have to file for disability,

and end up where you're at.

And that'll fucking blow.

Coffee still tastes like piss.

Get a fucking hobby?

I've got a fucking hobby alright.

What's wrong with you?

You never see an old guy
talking to himself before?

You're new to the planet, are you?

Fuck off while you're at it.

Get out of the fucking way.

You get a fucking hobby.

Bollocks!

♪ Run, Spot, run ♪

♪ Run, Spot, run ♪

♪ At 6:00, the milkman comes around ♪

♪ Another day in anytown ♪

♪ I wake up with a frown ♪

Brady?

- ♪ Another day in anytown ♪
- Busy!

♪ Run, Spot, run ♪

Open the door!

♪ Run, spot, run ♪

♪ ...Sally, Dick, and Mark ♪

I said busy!

- ♪ We took my dog Spot to the park ♪
- Open the door, please!

Come on, open the door.

Why aren't you at work?

I'm headed right back.

I just have something here I have to do.

What?

It's private.

I-I want to come down there.

- What? No.
- This is my house.

And that's my work space.
No fucking way.

- Did you just swear at me, Brady?
- I'm sorry.

I'd like to talk to you, please.

Well, I've gotta head back to the store.

I don't care. We need to talk.

Now.

I'd like to know about this
secret project of yours.

I have a right to know what's
going on in my house, Brady.

I'll tell you when the time is right.

That's not a satisfactory response.

Well, you'll have to make do.

Isn't that your specialty? Making do?

There's a saying...
maybe you've heard it...

a mother can only be as happy
as her saddest child.

You seem very sad to me, Brady.

Almost angry, in fact.

Now you and I have been through
some considerable hardships.

- We lost your father and your brother...
- I don't want to talk about it.

Well, I think maybe
it needs to be discussed.

No, no, no, no.

Eat.

It's good for your blood sugar.

Look, let me just say this.

I won't presume to understand your life.

But my life...

you're it.

You're all I have.

When I go to bed at night,
I-I never know

whether to be excited about

what's going on in that basement.

Or worried.

I l... I lie in bed,
and I agonize, Brady.

I agonize.

Now. E-Either you care about that.

Or you don't.

_

I would ask that you be somewhat quiet

as my mother is upstairs sleeping.

She's not well.

I don't know
what I can possibly tell you

that I haven't already.

Thank you.

Well, we were just wondering...

and I know we've asked before...

but we still wonder
whether it's possible

that either you left
the key in the ignition...

Of course I didn't.

- ...or if there's a spare key...
- The key was in my hand.

I locked the car
with my key when I got out,

as I always do.

The thing is, Mrs. Trelawney,

it's kind of an unconscious thing,

where somebody puts their key.
It becomes a form of habit.

- Do you think possibly...
- The key was in my hand.

There's nothing unconscious
about it, Detective.

The fob has a panic button.

I always hold the key should
I be attacked by a mugger.

I keep the key in my hand,
finger on the button,

until I'm safely in my own house.

I never get out of the car
without my key.

Never.

I gave you the key, for God's sakes.

- But if it were a spare key instead...
- It wasn't.

Am I not making myself clear?

No, you seem pretty positive, actually.

Almost defensive.

How dare you?

- I wasn't suggesting...
- You most certainly were.

And it is suggested by many

that I'm partially to blame
for this tragedy.

It is outrageous.

We don't mean to offend you.

Afternoon, sir. May I ask
what you're doing here?

You've been parked here quite a while.

Sir?

Well, I hope you have
the authority to ask.

Beg your pardon?

I think you're private security,
but I want to see some ID.

Then, I want to see
the carry-conceal permit

for that cannon
you got inside your coat.

And it better be in your wallet

and not in the glove
compartment of your car,

or you're in violation of Section 19
of the City Firearms Code.

Are you a cop?

Retired.

And I've forgotten neither my
rights nor your responsibility.

So, let me see your ID
and your carry permit.

Then we can discuss my presence here.

Vigilant Guard Services. Good name.

Your turn.

Bill Hodges.

Ended my tour Detective First Class.

My last big case
was the Mercedes killer.

I'm guessing that'll give you
a good idea what I'm doing here.

Olivia Trelawney. She's dead, you know.

Yeah, I heard.

Does somebody live in there now?

Not as far as I know.
Sister inherited it.

She keeps an eye on the place,
checks in from time to time.

The sister? Janey Patterson?

Yeah, that's the one. She's a nice lady.

I thought she lived in Los Angeles.

Moved back to look after her mother.

Mother still alive?

As far as I know.

It goes without saying, this
store faces enormous challenges.

But should it need saying,
we're covered.

Yeah, yeah, we're totally good on that.

The future is fraught with uncertainty

as the world continues to go digital.

Electronics, DVD's...

so much of what we sell
will be obsolete in a heartbeat.

My concern is that
we're not ready to surmount

the enormous hurdles that lie ahead.

Do you know what
business goodwill is, Lou?

- Kind of.
- Tell me.

When you don't give customers
shit for gay-bashing.

I like you both.

You both have good skill-sets.

But I find you both to be riddled

with underlying contempt.

Contempt for me is okay. I'm the boss.

Contempt for the customer
however, that is untenable.

Brady, my deeper concern runs to you.

You're... weird.

I'm sorry, I wish
I could find a softer term

or something more clinical, but frankly,

sometimes you come across
as just plain weird.

Robi, you don't get to say that.

It is my job to say it.

The customers like Brady,
they request him all the time.

Because he can fix shit.

But they also find him
"a little off" occasionally.

Look, you want more than your station,

you have to dial that back to zero.

In three weeks, as you know,

The Edmund Mills Arts Center
is having its groundbreaking gala.

Thousands of people figure to be there.

I'm told even the Governor.

Depending on who's running the store,

I'm gonna need either or both
of you manning our booth there.

This is a business opportunity for us.

I cannot have you flippant.

I cannot have you impersonable.

I cannot have you "a little off."

Do you hear what
I'm telling both of you?

You either shape up, or I ship you out.

Now, let's go move some product!

- Bill.
- Ida. Uh...

Malasadas.

Portuguese donut of sorts. Delicious.

Well.

I-I just wanted to, um...

Thank you for last night.
You were very kind.

I just thought, you know...

Commemorate my kindness
with a Portuguese donut.

How lovely.

Will you have some tea?

Uh, well, I, um...

Bill, you're retired.

Come and have some tea.

Don't think I've ever sat in a gazebo.

Oh, I love it here in the summertime.

So neat, tidy.

Are you saying I'm fastidious?

Okay.

Anal?

Fastidious is fine.

It's all so perfectly intact.

That's the way I like to keep things.

My mind, my smile, my body.

Relax.

I'm not gonna throw myself at you.

I only do that once. I have my pride.

Going forward, I will
only list in your direction.

Look at that. That's an actual smile.

Don't pull a muscle now.

Do you mind me asking...

you know, like you said,
you know, you've got options.

Like, why...

- Why you?
- Yeah.

Well, you're pleasantly charming.

And incomparably convenient.

I like sleeping alone, in my own bed.

It's rude to throw somebody out,

I don't like driving at night,

especially if I've had a martini or two.

There's something to be said
for right next door.

That's it? I'm convenient?

And charming.

You know, um...

in addition to being
out of control last night,

you seemed... unwell.

Like on the verge of a coronary.

When... When was the last time
you saw a doctor?

I mean, other than
interrogating one on a crime.

Must every conversation
turn to my lack of fitness?

I'm only being a concerned neighbor

who grew up in the family
mortuary business.

I'll leave it at that.

Will you?

I promise.

Alright, well, I got to get back.

I got a tortoise to feed.

Thank you for the tea.

A pleasure.

"Greetings, Detective.

I hope this letter finds you well.

I fear the opposite.

I am informed that
retired police officers

have an extremely high suicide rate.

In most cases, the officers have

no family members who
might see the warning signs.

Many, like you, are divorced,

their grown children
living away from home.

I think of you, all alone
in your house on Harper Road,

Detective Hodges, and I grow concerned.

Are you watching a lot of TV?

Are you drinking more?

I certainly hope
you're monitoring your diet.

Many depressed retired officers...

rather than sticking
to nutrient-dense foods,

instead opt to eat their gun.

Shedding years off their lives
in the process.

I do hope you'll look
after yourself, Detective.

If not, well... rest assured
I'll keep close watch.

Your devoted follower, Mister Mercedes.

Care to get in touch, try
Under Debbie's Blue Umbrella.

I even got you a username...
Kermitfrog19.

Password: Smush."

Hey, boss.

Hey.

Odell! Come on, buddy.

You know how the old man feels about you

sitting in his special chair.

Out you go.

Odell!

Come on.

Good boy!

You know, you could use a dog.

Keep the kids out of your yard at night.

Dude, that turtle ain't doing shit.

It's a tortoise.

Oh.

I got a letter from my new pen pal.

He put this one in writing.

- Seriously?
- Yeah.

Wow, hard evidence, he's getting sloppy.

Oh, thanks.

Well, what'd he say?

None of your business.
This is between him and me.

What... What do you mean?

Look, I'm like your Watson, Sherlock.

Tell me what he said, please.

- Just look at the P.S. Don't touch it.
- All right.

"P.S. Care to get in touch,

try Under Debbie's Blue Umbrella.

I even got you a username...
'Kermitfrog19'.

And your password is 'Smush'."

He even knows my name.

What?

My first given name is Kermit.

I haven't heard it since I was 17,

the day I left
to come here from Ireland.

How am I gonna contact this
Debbie's Blue Umbrella shit?

You listening to me?

No.

I'm still stuck on Kermit,

that's your fucking name? For real?

One of my names.

Just tell me how
I can contact this prick.

Well, I mean, it ain't rocket science.

You just log on to
Under Debbie's Blue Umbrella

and then, wherever it says "username,"

just plug in the "Kermitfrog19."

Okay, wait, I have a question.

Is this like an Irish-green-frog
connection thing?

With the Kermit...

Hardy-har-har.

Alright, can I read
the rest of the letter, Kermit?

No, no, no, I'll tell you what...

you can beat it, that's what you can do.

- Oh.
- And don't come around here anymore.

I don't want you coming round here.

What?

He obviously knows my address.
It's not safe.

Come on, let's go. I mean it.

Alright, well, I mean,
if you need me, you know...

- Sure...
- ...call me.

Yeah, thanks.

- I can do it.
- Come on, push!

I know you can do it! Push!

You got to believe in it! Push! Push!

Come on, Barbara! Keep it moving.

One more pound today. Two pounds!

You push yourself!

If you want it, you're
gonna have to go get it.

I'm trying!

You try harder, Barbara.
That's what it's about.

Hi, Mom.

Mm-hmm.

...that's it. That's all you have to do.

What'cha doing?

Jumping Jacks.

What does it look like I'm doing?

Come on, Barbara. Come on, Barbara.
You got to push.

You got to push if you want it.

Show me you want it.

Push yourself.
I know you can do it. Push.

Let's go, Barbara. Let's do this.

Don't you dare stop!
Don't you dare stop!

You get crazy on it! You keep moving!

Show me you want it.

- I can do it.
- I know you can do it.

Push! You got to believe it.
Push. Come on, Barbara.

Come on, you got to show what you want.

You want it? You have to go get it.

You, uh... You wanna know
what I'm working on?

Here it is.

- What is it?
- It's... It's like a remote.

Except it's a super remote.

I call it "Thing B."

There was an earlier
incarnation... "Thing A."

But this is "Thing B."

Kind of like those Dr. Seuss books

you used to love when you were a kid.

Slightly different, but...

What does it do?

Controls shit.

Lots of shit.

Thing A could open every
garage door on the street,

not that that's difficult.

Could capture transmitter
frequencies, stuff like that.

This one does more.

Like what?

Let's just say it
activates and de-activates

almost anything I want.

Not everything, but...

you know, depending on
what I program it to.

This is gonna make us rich, Ma.

A few more refinements,

I'll be selling the patent
to The Pentagon.

They'll be fighting wars with it,

you know, they'll be able
to diffuse or...

or detonate bombs from miles away.

It just looks like a big TV remote.

Well, it controls a lot more.

Has, uh, microchips for a brain.

Soon, I'll be able to control
people's smart phones with this.

Is that legal?

No. That's... That's why
it has to stay so secret.

You don't need to worry, Ma.

I'm taking care of us in that basement.

Wow.

Well, what do you have it
programmed to do now?

- Like, what does it...
- Two things.

Mrs. Blanchard's blinds.

Dirty little boy.

And traffic lights.

Traffic lights?

Red. Yellow. Green.

Whatever I fancy.

- W-Which traffic lights?
- Um...

pretty much all of 'em.

Wow.

Thing B.

Bzzt!

Yes?

Bill Hodges. We spoke on the phone?

Of course. Come up.

- Detective.
- Mrs. Patterson?

Call me Janey. Come in, please.

Okay.

I really appreciate
you agreeing to see me.

I'm more than happy to.

I want to catch this fucking prick.

That's why you're here, isn't it?

Well. As I said on the phone,
I'm now retired.

But you can't let it go.

Officially, I'm not here.

Understood. Would you like coffee?

- Anything?
- No, I'm fine.

Come sit.

Uh, as I mentioned before,

- I worked on the case.
- You worked on the case, yeah.

My sister spoke of you... not highly.

Ah. Well...

She didn't like most people.
And the feelings were often mutual.

I see.

Uh, as I said,
I'm now retired, but, um...

In the past few days...

I believe I've been
contacted by, uh, well, him.

I've, uh, received messages

both on my computer and in regular mail.

Now, it could be hoax.

This case garnered a lot of attention.

The nuts keep coming out
of the woodwork.

But the message I received...

He wrote to her, too.

At least, she told me that he did.

Did she report this to the police?

She said she did, yeah.

And?

They said it was
most likely some nut-job

just... just trying to get attention,

and, frankly, I thought
they were probably right.

Do you have the letters?

All of her things
are stored in a warehouse.

Whether or not she kept them,
I don't know.

Still got her computer?

All of it's in the warehouse.

Wh-What kinds of things is
he saying in the messages?

A lot of stuff.

Pretty sick, most of it.

Has suicide come up?

Sorry?

Well, i-if what my sister
told me was true,

he... he was taunting her, uh,
to... to make her feel like

she was partly responsible
for what happened, and...

Encouraging her?

Encouraging her to
take her own life, yeah.

Maybe I will trouble you
for that cup of coffee.

Got some reports to write.
I'll set the alarm.

Cool.

Yeah, baby!

Yeah.

Oh, Jesus! God!

Oh, fuck!

God.

- Officer.
- Sir.

Lou.

What happened?

His computer exploded or something

while he was watching porn.

Alright, alright, alright.

W-What do you mean,
his computer exploded?

I don't know. The microcontroller
on the lithium batteries, if it's...

if there's a defect,
it can overheat and explode.

- Yeah.
- It's happened before,

I read about it.

That's why I hate those
fucking lithium things.

- Is he gonna be okay?
- Yeah.

I mean, yeah. He's gonna be fine.

Fried his brain,

watching porn. Can you believe that?

And we're the ones who are "off."

God.

Do you still have full
access to the police department?

Uh, well, actually, no.

The Department feel I've gone
a bit bat-shit over this case.

Have you?

A little.

Have you shown them
the letter you received?

- Not yet, no.
- Why not?

I suppose I lack confidence
that they'll act on it.

You plan to act on it.

- I do.
- Why?

Every cop gets one
they just can't shake.

No matter what. This is mine.

I want to know.

I want to know
who tormented my sister...

till she killed herself.

Police don't seem to care.

I-I don't think that's necessarily true.

You know it is.

My mother was the only one
who fully believed her.

Where's your mother now?

She's at a place called Sunny Acres.

It's about 30 miles from here.

Would it be possible
for me to speak with her?

She's not always lucid.

But on a good day, yeah.

Let's pray for a good day, then.

♪ When I look out my window ♪

♪ Many sights to see ♪

♪ And when I look in my window ♪

♪ So many different people to be ♪

♪ That it's strange ♪

♪ So strange ♪

♪ You got to pick up every stitch ♪

♪ You got to pick up every stitch ♪

♪ You got to pick up every stitch ♪

♪ Mm-hmm ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ Must be the season
of the witch, yeah ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ When I look over my shoulder ♪

♪ What do you think I see? ♪

♪ Some other cat lookin' over ♪

♪ His shoulder at me ♪

♪ And he's strange ♪

♪ Sure is strange ♪

♪ You got to pick up every stitch ♪

♪ You got to pick up
every stitch, yeah ♪

♪ Beatniks are out to make it rich ♪

♪ Oh, no ♪ _

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ Must be the season
of the witch, yeah ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx
www.addic7ed.com

♪ You got to pick up every stitch ♪

♪ Two rabbits runnin' in the ditch ♪

♪ Beatniks out to make it rich ♪

♪ Oh, no ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ When I go ♪

♪ When I look out my window ♪

♪ What do you think I see? ♪

♪ And when I look in my window ♪

♪ So many different people to be ♪

♪ It's strange ♪

♪ Sure is strange ♪

♪ Oh, no ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪

♪ Must be the season
of the witch, yeah ♪

♪ Must be the season of the witch ♪