The Closer (2005–2012): Season 7, Episode 19 - Last Rites - full transcript

The Closer 7x19
Last Rites
Original Air Date on July 30, 2012

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

Father Adam?

Oh, so sorry.

Last rites.
Here's the address.

The doctor's on call,

so he'll leave the door unlocked
if he has to go.

What shall I say?

Ah, that...

I'll be there as soon as
I get my things together.

Oh, and, uh, coffee, please,
Mrs. Debbie.



Let's see.
Apartment 4.

Dr. Hanlin?

Hello? Doctor?

Arnold Basky. Arnold Basky.

Mr. Basky.

Mr. Basky?

It's Father Adam
from St. Angelo's?

Would you like me
to hear your confession?

Mr. Basky?

Would you like me
to anoint you?

God of mercy,
ease the sufferings

and comfort the weakness
of your servant Arnold,

who the church anoints
with this holy oil.

Right through
his collar, sir.



Murdered priest in
a grade-school parking lot.

Makes me think
bad things.

Hey, guys, I couldn't find any
visible blood in the front seat,

only in the back
where this rug was.

Fellas, we need to move
the priest's body

out of here A.S.A.P.

Oh? How soon?

I still have
a lot of stuff to do here.

Chief Johnson won't
want us to move the body

until we're done --
Yeah, where is Chief Johnson?

Well, she's at home
taking care of her father.

Something I can do
for you, sir?

I was just on the phone
with the Archbishop,

and I promised him

we would try to minimize
the students' exposure

to this tragedy.

I'll find something
to cover him up, sir.

Thank you.
And with all due respect, Chief,

we need to find out

if this rug is from
the priest's room or --

No, no. Not yet.

What do you mean,
"no, no. Not yet"?

The Jesuits who run this school
have requested

that we wait for an archivist
from their order

to collect the dead priest's
journals and documents

before we search the room.

Sounds like Father Adam here
may have been up to something

that the church
doesn't want us to see.

The diocese has had services
at this cathedral

for five L.A.P.D. officers
in the past year,

two of whom
were not even catholic.

So we will treat
their dead

with the same respect
that they have shown ours.

And we'll give them
a moment

to gather
the victim's belongings

while I make a deal with the
Archbishop to examine his papers.

In the meantime,

can we discreetly
get a coroner's van around here

to get rid of the body?

And let's get this vehicle
out of here, too.

And if Chief Johnson has
a problem with any of that,

she can take it up
with me.

Well, I guess
we can all stop wondering

if the Pope's Catholic.

"If Chief Johnson
has a problem with that"?

Tao!
Coroner.

Sanchez, uh,
get a tow truck.

And -- and -- oh!

Make sure that their emergency
lights are switched off,

lest we threaten
the delicate balance

of church and state.

Daddy, why don't you use
the walker?

We had it made special
for you.

Answer your phone.
I'm...I'm fine.

Answer the phone!

Okay. Okay.

Oh, Brenda Leigh!

Oh! Oh, Daddy!

Mama, I'm so sorry.
Daddy, are you okay?

If I'd have known how hard
it was to get up,

I would have stayed in bed.

Well, the doctor said
it's important for you

to move around,

and it's gonna take a while
for these new drugs

to balance out
your hormones, okay?

I've been here
a week already.

Yes, but remember
Atlanta, Clay?

You could hardly move
at all.

Okay.

Okay,
the bed's right here.

Yes. I'm fine.

I just...just need
to catch my breath.

Okay.
I'm fine.

Okay.

Mom, how in the world
have you been dealing with this

all on your own?

Believe it or not, this is better.

- This is better?
- This better!

This new therapy's
working.

Now we have to see
how far it takes us.

Answer the phone!
Yes!

Yes, Lieutenant.
Is there a problem?

Well, only if you consider
arguing with the Pope

over a bunch of 2,000-year-old
superstitions a problem.

The Pope?
Here, talk to a believer.

What?
I'm not Catholic.

Uh, hi, Chief.

Pope doesn't want us
to search the rectory

before an archivist
can gather --

Wait a minute.
What kind of an archivist?

Uh, an archivist.
It's a Jesuit official.

The archivist collects

all the dead priests'
journals and writings.

It's kind of a ritual thing
they do.

Oh, yeah?

Well, I have an L.A.P.D.
ritual thing that says no one

goes in or out of the rectory
where our murdered priest lived

until we have a chance
to look around.

Understood?

Um, Pope wants --

Yeah, well, tell Chief Pope
I'm coming down.

Heaven's sakes.

Go.
Take care of your murder.

Yeah, but Daddy almost fell down
a minute ago.

Mama, maybe we should
get some help?

He won't have help.

He has to think
he's doing everything himself,

even if it kills him.

Well, don't be afraid
of that.

I mean, the doctor said we're in
no danger of losing daddy.

I'm not afraid
of losing him.

I'm worried
about how to keep him.

Hey, Chief.

Pope just let the archivist
go into the rectory.

Is there a back way?

Uh, no, ma'am.

But there's a front one.

Switch here.

Excuse me.
Yes? Can I help you?

I'm deputy Chief
Brenda Leigh Johnson

of the L.A.P.D.

And is the room
of the priest --

Uh, ma'am,
you shouldn't be here.

I need you to leave.

Actually,
you shouldn't be here.

Who are you, anyway?

I'm Mrs. Wallingham,
the rectory supervisor,

and you have to leave
right now.

You need to step aside,
or I'll put you under arrest.

Wait!
You cannot go in there!

Hello, sir.
What are you doing?

I'm collecting Father Adam's
personal records and journals.

Why, what's in 'em?

His daily activities,

his private thoughts,
prayers.

All right, then.
We'll be taking those.

You would have to
take my life first.

Lucky for me,
I'm armed.

Sit down.

Yeah, Chief.

Detective, what size was the rug
our victim was rolled up in?

Uh, about 6'x9'.

Well, that could fit.
I don't know.

I --

Brenda, where --
what are you doing?

I'm searching the room
of a homicide victim.

Say "hi" to the Archbishop
for me, would you?

When was the last time
you saw Father Adam?

Around 2:00 a.m.
this morning.

I made the Father coffee,

and he went out
to a last rites call.

Where was he going?

Look, someone's out there
murdering priests.

You want to be responsible
for the next one who dies?

Where was Father Adam
going?

Here's the apartment's
address.

A doctor called it in.

Thank you.

Chief Johnson,
come with me.

Why?

Come on. Hurry.

Oh, too late.

Uh, Chief Johnson,

you have created
a major problem here.

Chief Johnson,
you are undermining

my negotiations
with the church

and I need you out
of this rectory now.

Not till we get
Father Adam's journals,

which they're doing everything
possible to hide from us.

They're not hiding
anything.

Look, the church has spent
$500 million dollars

addressing their sins
of the past,

and they're nervous
that people are --

You think I don't know
why they're worried?!

A priest who teaches
at an elementary school

gets murdered?

It does scream
angry parent, sir.

Look, for all we know,

the killer is another priest
who lives here!

Of course,
to figure that out,

we'd have to actually
search this place

like we were conducting
a legitimate investigation.

Okay.

I think you are exhausted,

and I think you're letting
your father's health problems

affect
your decision making...

Don't you bring my father into this.
...which is completely understandable.

This has nothing to do with
some kind of a personal response.

Now is not the time for you to try to
supercede command decisions.

This is an action.
I need you out of here, now!

Apartment 4.
Yes, this is the right one.

Yeah, you know, I can't think
of the tenant's name.

He's pretty new here.

Do you have his lease?

Sure,
it's in the office.

Oh.
But, uh, Detective?

Yeah.
Thank you.

Hmm.

Bless me father, for I have
done nothing but watch pornos.

Yeah, well, I guess it goes
with the wine coolers.

Hey, guys. Back here.

I'm thinking an area rug
left this nice impression

on the wall-to-wall
carpet.

Yeah, 6'x9'.

Huh.

All right, guys.

Oh.

Check this out.

Hmm.

Gentlemen.

Oh, no.

Freak.

Hey, uh, I don't know
what's going on here, but...

Oh.

This apartment is leased
to an Adam Gray

as in our victim --
Father Adam.

Those poor girls
looked up to that priest,

and he took advantage
of them.

Well, mama,
we don't know what was going on

in that apartment.

We haven't found any
fingerprints on the pictures,

hardly any in the apartment
at all, actually,

which is strange.

And we haven't found
any of the priest's DNA

on the girls' clothing.

Shouldn't you be talking about
all that with the parents?

Well, Fritz is helping
the L.A.P.D.

with the molestation
issues.

Oh, now y'all are
rearranging your whole lives

because of me.

No, no, Daddy.
Not at all.

It's just that the FBI
has a lot more resources

for that kind of thing
than we do.

So, if there was anything else
to be doing,

I'd be doing it.

What's the matter, Daddy?
You didn't like your soup?

Oh, it's fine.

But my taster's not.

The doctor said the drugs
would have that affect.

But if everything's
gonna taste like mud,

what's the point
of being alive?

Well, I'm so glad to hear
you're ready to give up and die

after I've been staying up
all night with you

for the past six months

and your daughter flew you
all the way across country.

All right. All right.
I'll try again.

I'm back.

Fritzi.

Hey.
How's your dad doing?

He's, uh...better.

Better.

He's not eating much,
but he's -- he's walking.

Anyway, uh,
what'd you find out?

Well, we interviewed the parents
of the identified girls

without mentioning
Father Adam.

It doesn't look like

there's any kind
of sexual abuse going on.

And our cyber-porn division
isn't convinced

those pictures were taken by
a child molester.

Why not?

Well, for one thing, there were
too many different girls.

Apparently,
active pedophiles

groom their targets
more carefully.

Look, the pictures
are creepy, yeah,

but they're not pornographic.

Abuse --
not really seeing it.

Well, that could be enough
to convince the church

that we're not on some kind of
a witch hunt.

I'm gonna go --
oh, no.

Daddy's got an appointment in
an hour and a half, and I --

I already took
the afternoon off.

Your dad likes my driving
better anyway.

He...did not say that.

Did he?
Actually...

he said you "steer the car
like a lost getaway driver."

Oh,
that sounds just like him.

Maybe things
are gonna get better.

Yeah.

Well, not if you keep
pushing to get this journal.

Although,
I suppose suggesting

that the photographs we found
were not pornographic

could help reopen dialog
with the archdiocese.

We shouldn't have to
reopen dialog.

The church should never
have been allowed

to take the victim's journal
to begin with!

Chief Johnson,
in a case like this,

there are national,
possibly international,

implications.

In fact, in order to regain
the cooperation of the church,

the L.A.P.D. has to give it
absolute assurance

that our official chain
of command will be respected.

I've always respected --
wait a minute.

Is this about what happened
with Chief Pope at the rectory?

I was only doing my job.

By performing
a warrantless search?

By threatening a church
archivist with your weapon?

I didn't threaten anybody.

I had my gun holstered the entire time.
It doesn't matter.

Refusing the orders of
a superior is insubordination,

and you did it publicly,

which is detailed
in this unsigned complaint

that Chief Pope left with me
last night.

He's really this mad?

Oh-oh, yes.

And he's frustrated.

At one time,
he may have been your friend

and something more than that,
but he is also your boss.

And he's demanding that you
recognize his authority.

I want that journal.

Did you not hear one word
that I just said?

I kept Chief Pope
from signing that complaint

by assuring him

that you were capable
of seeing his position.

The Catholic Church
has enormous influence.

How am I supposed to
investigate this homicide

if the entire power structure
here is lining up

to protect the poor,
defenseless Catholic Church?

And why does Chief Pope

still have this enormous chip
on his shoulder?

I mean,
I'm ready to put behind

how completely horrible
he's been.

I don't even need
an apology.

I mean, can't we just --
you know?

You may be
able to let it go,

but Chief Pope
isn't ready to let it go.

And if you can't keep
relations friendly,

you need
to keep them smart.

What would smart be
in this situation?

Letting Chief Pope
resume his negotiations

with the church so that
he solves the problem.

He caused the problem.

Fine.

If I let Chief Pope
get the journal his way,

will he back off
on that complaint?

Because if he signs it anyway,
I will explode.

I really will.

I think before dropping
the complaint entirely,

he's gonna wait to see

how you proceed with
your investigation.

Even though the apartment
had been wiped down,

we did find
Father Adam's fingerprints

in two different places --
one on the travel mug...

Mrs. Wallingham says she made
coffee for him that night.

...and the camera we found
in the bedroom,

index finger
on the shutter button.

But no prints on
the girls' photos, Chief.

Okay, so who hung them up?
Sergeant?

Well, a Dr. Hanlin

supposedly called the rectory
that night.

But there is no physician
by that name

registered anywhere
in the state.

If there's not doctor,
then who called for last rites?

Maybe the killer.

So, why would
the priest answer a call

to go to
his own apartment?

It doesn't make any sense.

Wait a minute. What if
he did have an accomplice?

What if "last rites" was like a code
to say the place was ready?

Oh, you mean like, "I've got
the little girls over here.

They're drinking wine coolers.
Let's party"?

Yeah, but there's
no evidence the young girls

were ever in the apartment
other than the school uniforms,

which were brand-new,
like the rug.

The killer probably bought
that rug specifically

to roll up the body,

which means
he's highly organized --

suggests he wasn't
a beginner, anyway.

Well, I'd still say Father Adam
went to that apartment

knowing that it was
a fake call.

You're forgetting about the olive oil.
Olive oil?

Along with
the victim's blood,

the lab found a small amount
of olive oil

soaked into the rug.

Priests use olive oil
to perform last rites.

They bless the forehead
and they bless the hands.

You know, maybe the priest
was there doing his job.

Says the guy who goes
to confession twice a week.

Oh, you should try it,
Andrew. It feels good.

Hey, listen.

All I know is that the wounds
to the good father's neck

are up-close and personal.

You ask me, some angry dad
found out about the love nest

and put an end to it.

If the girls weren't being
molested like the FBI said,

fathers would have nothing
to be angry about.

Look, to be sure,

I say we get a warrant for the
victim's journal.

I mean, come on. What are we waiting on?
No, no, no.

Chief Pope thinks that
would be like a bomb going off.

Hi, mama. Uh, hang on just one moment.
We don't have the evidence.

How are we supposed to have
evidence that we can't collect?

How'd it go with the doctor?

He says things
are looking up.

Oh, mama.
That is such good news.

It is! It is!

Of course,
there's still a ways to go,

and some of his numbers
could use improvement.

But that doctor of yours
thinks that Clay should be up

and at 'em any minute.

His numbers?

Oh, on his chart --

his electrolytes
and something else.

Oh, that's okay, mama.

We'll go over all that
at dinner.

I'll see you then.

Oh, Brenda, one more thing.
I --

Uh, Lieutenant Tao,

you said that the camera
that we found in the apartment,

- its clock was never set properly?
- Yeah.

Well, we know they're recent
because of who the girls are, but --

Okay, let's blow up
these photographs please.

I think if they were
a little bit larger

I might be able to see what
time of day they were taken.

And, uh, Detective Sanchez,

while we're on the subject
of photographs,

would you please have
the building manager come in

to look at a picture
of Father Adam,

see if he recognizes him
as a tenant.

And I want the lease
in an evidence bag, please.

So, what are you
thinking, Chief?

Somebody's trying to make
the priest look dirty?

I'm thinking that if he didn't
take these photographs,

it would explain why he went out
in the middle of the night

to an apartment
he didn't know was his.

Girls in the blue uniform

played St. Angelo's
8th grade girls

two weeks ago today
between 4:30 and 6:00.

Okay, and at that time,

Father Adams
was with the debate team

at another school
across town.

Yeah. This is interesting.

It's quite sunny, but...

No shadows?
Mm-hmm.

So it's midday,

and they're not wearing
their school uniforms.

That makes it "casual dress"
Friday at St. Angelo's.

And every Friday at midday,

Father Adam performs mass
in the cathedral.

So, he couldn't have taken
these pictures.

Mm-hmm.

Chief? This is the building
manager, Mr. Vincent Morris.

Oh, Mr. Morris.
Thank you so much for coming in.

And here's the lease.

Wonderful, thank you.
Lieutenant.

Prints and copy
for a writing sample?

Thank you.
Okay.

Mr. Morris,
do you recognize this man?

I don't think so.
His name's on the lease.

Oh, well, that's not the guy
who signed it.

And March 23rd,

is that the actual day
the lease was signed?

March 23rd, that's right.
March 23rd.

Let me ask you this.

Do you change the locks
in between tenants?

Well, I should, but not if
they give me back the keys.

Could you give us the name
of the previous tenants?

Sure,
I just need a computer.

Right here.
Oh.

Uh, do you also want a list
of exterminator, plumbers,

painters, anybody else
who comes in and out?

That would be very helpful.
Thank you so much.

And Detective Sanchez,

could you also pull up
the school's website,

look through
the faculty pictures,

see if Mr. Morris
recognizes anyone?

Thank you.

Uh, I don't need you
for this.

Chief Pope's about to have
a conference

with the church official.

He wants Commander Taylor
to attend.

It's about the journal.

Oh, okay.
Thank you.

Fine.
Commander.

His holiness, the Pope,
requests your presence.

Ah, Father Calhoun,
you know Commander Taylor,

but I don't believe you've met
Captain Raydor

of our professional
standards bureau.

Captain.

Father Calhoun is the superior
of the provincial

for all Jesuit priests
in Southern California.

Thank you for agreeing
to meet with us father,

and may I say
that we are all very, very sorry

about what happened
yesterday.

We're looking to get back on
a better footing, as well.

Oh, forgive me,

I was referring to the terrible
loss of Father Adam.

My student
and my brother in Christ.

I accept your words
of sympathy,

but the L.A.P.D.'s actions
seem to undermine their intent.

Well, let me begin
with some news

that will help
to put your mind at ease.

As I understand it,
we're currently favoring

a theory of the crime

which would clear Father Adam
of any misconduct

with his female students.
Thank heaven.

Any suggestion he was leading
a secret life

would harm his legacy
forever.

And you could help us
make sure that never happens.

How?

We would like to see
Father Adam's journal.

And before you say no --
Well, of course you can see it.

Really?
We can?

When?

In 2052.

40 years from now,

the journal will be unsealed
from our archive

and it will be all yours.

We only want it
for a handwriting sample

to confirm that he did not rent
that apartment.

You are trying to bait me
into giving away

the innermost thoughts
of an active-duty priest

by promising me that
it may clear his name.

This woman is no better
than the one from yesterday.

Well, I guess we may need
to get a warrant for the journal

from the district attorney's
office.

Any such attempt
will be met

with the full legal authority
of the Catholic Church.

Given the church's resources,
Chief,

I think we should probably ask
to convene a grand jury.

The Catholic Church
has grown used to those

over the past few years,
I should think.

Of course, a grand jury
would have to see the pictures

of those little girls

and the fingerprint
on the camera,

not to mention
all those kids' clothes

we found in the apartment.

You just told me
you were pursuing

an alternative theory
of the crime.

Yes.

But the evidence
is still the evidence.

Look,
I-I'm sure there's some way

that we can examine
this journal

without involving
the courts

or compromising
confidentiality.

Father, suppose we had it
for just one day,

and the journal never left
your presence.

So, technically, it was
never released to anyone.

One day?

We're just as interested
in issues of privilege

as you are and I don't have
anything specific to look for.

So, why don't I throw out a date
and you see what it says,

and whether
we can look at it.

And then we'll do
a handwriting comparison.

What date?

How about March 23rd?

He was traveling that day
to a conference in San Diego.

He writes briefly
about the train ride.

Uh, excuse me, Chief.

I showed
the apartment manager

all the faculty pictures
from Father Adam's school.

You did what?

Oh, routine procedure,
Father.

Just eliminating
all the possibilities.

Nothing to worry about.

And he did not recognize
any of them.

And none of the former tenants
or workers

have criminal records.

Okay, I'm not seeing
anything similar

between
these two samples.

Father,
this is all good news.

Chief, uh,
I have the fingerprint report

from the original lease.

We have matches

from all the squad
who touched it this morning

and, of course,
the manager, Mr. Morris,

but no prints
from Father Adam.

Oh, my.

See? Sharing this journal
with us

is going to help you
enormously.

Pardon me, Father.

Do you mind waiting here
for a moment?

Certainly.
Certainly.

Where's Mr. Morris?

He left 10 minutes ago.

Did he write anything
in longhand while he was here?

Oh, I took
all the notes, Chief.

He had access to that apartment
24 hours a day.

Who else could set it up
like that?

And there are no prints
but ours and his on that lease?

Let's find out if our landlord
had a criminal record.

Thank you.

Father Calhoun,
would you be willing

to look through the journal
for the name of a man

named Morris?

He may have been impersonating
Father Adam.

Yes, of course.

But there's an entire box
of journals.

Uh, I'd say maybe we start
with March 23rd

and work our way back
from there?

Sound good?

Well, the manager doesn't have
a record exactly,

but his name did come up
a couple of times.

First, and I don't know
how this relates,

but according to
a traffic-accident report,

Mr. Morris
was critically injured

in a nasty five-car pileup
on the freeway

that nearly killed him
six months ago.

More importantly,

Vincent Morris filed
a missing persons on his wife

eight years ago.

And she never turned up.

At the time, the only lead
the L.A.P.D. uncovered

was a condominium
rented under his wife's name

in Cabo San Lucas.

But the Mexican authorities
never found anyone living there.

Back when Morris' wife
first disappeared,

the investigating officer
made a note

of a large area rug missing
from the Morris home.

Two abandoned apartments
could be a coincidence,

but the missing rug
makes it a pattern.

Let--

Oh, um...put a watch
on Mr. Morris

and let me know
if Father Calhoun

finds his name in the journal.

And I want every detail
of the day of that car accident.

Yes, mama.
I'm on my way.

That's fine,
but I'll be there.

Chief.

Thank you.

Here's a good one
I was telling you about.

The low thyro--

Thyroglobulin.

Low means its cancer's
basically undetectable.

Oh, Daddy. You're getting
to be such an expert.

Well, I'll say this
for that doctor of yours.

He talks to us
so we can understand him.

Look here.
Look at this.

I got my balance back.

Ooh!

Now, you just teach
your daughter

how to carry her stuff
back into the kitchen...

Hey. Don't ask for more
than God can give you.

Dear, I'll take the heavy
plates. You take the silverware.

Hello.

Yes -- uh, hang on.

You were right.
He did need a better doctor.

Oh, thank heaven
that's all it was.

Thank heaven.
Uh...

Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Oh, hi.

Hey, Chief.

Uh, so, we didn't find
Mr. Morris' name

anywhere in the journal,

but we did find the names
of his two sons --

David and Michael Morris.

His sons? What did they
have to do with anything?

Well, I'm not sure,
but the date of the entry

is the same day Mr. Morris
was brought to the hospital

after his big car wreck.

Was Father Adam there?

Yeah. I checked
with the hospital.

He was on call all day.

Yeah, but why would he
write down the sons' names?

Uh, why would he write down
the sons' names?

Uh, Chief,
when given last rites,

dying patients
often ask priests

to pass messages
on to family members,

but Father Adam
didn't write the message down.

Well, why not? Why is everyone
all bent out of shape

about this journal
if there's nothing in it?!

Oh, yeah, yeah, Chief.
Crazy.

Oh, here, Flynn.

Uh, hey, Chief.

I checked into
Mr. Morris' plates, just to see,

and his car was towed last night
about 30 miles from his home.

He checked it out
of impound this morning.

- 30 miles?
- Where?

Was it parked near someplace
where you could do a body dump?

Well,
we're looking into it.

Where's Morris now?

Well,
Provenza's got S.I.S.

sitting at his house
ready to grab him.

Only one day.
I-I-I can't wait that long.

Bring Mr. Morris in.
I want to have a chat with him.

I'm on my way.

Brenda, you have to go back
to work at this hour?

Mama, I am so sorry,
but I've got a deadline.

Hmm, I thought since Clay
was feeling better,

you and I could have
a little talk.

And we will. We will.

Well, there's something
I really ought to tell you.

It'll only take a minute.

Well, c-can it wait
till tomorrow morning?

We could have breakfast and talk
about whatever you like.

All right. Tomorrow.

Only, honey, you can't keep working
like this your whole life.

It'll catch up with you.

I expect it will.
But not tonight.

Bye.
Mm.

Drive carefully.

What do we know?

Chief, we got Mr. Morris
in interview room 1.

I have the full report
on Father Adam's vehicle

back from the print shed.

Look at this detail.

Father Adam's car
was out of gas.

Warning light was on,
less than a gallon left.

A car that size, that age, you
can only go another 6, 7 miles.

That's when that creep Morris'
plan went wrong.

Here's a map of where
he left his car.

That's why his car
was towed.

He couldn't drive back to it

because the priest's car
was running on empty.

And Morris didn't dare
fill up

for fear of gas-station
security cameras.

Okay,
so he meant to drive here,

dump the priest's car
and his body,

and then drive
his own vehicle home.

Morris planned for everything

except that poor priest's car
running out of gas.

He never intended to dump
the body at the school.

Yeah,
it was a good save though,

'cause it made the priest
look guiltier.

This might
be something Chief.

There is a large
storage facility

three blocks from
where Morris left his car

just off the freeway exit.

He wouldn't use his own name
at that storage facility,

but y'all get down there

and take this fake
apartment lease with you,

see if you can match
the handwriting to a contract

from eight years ago around
the time the wife went missing.

Well, a match
like that might satisfy God,

but I think a judge is gonna
want more for a warrant.

Well, then take the cadaver dog
with you for insurance.

And, Buzz, leave your camera
with Lieutenant Tao, please.

I need you here to help me.
Sure thing.

Detective Sanchez,

feel like helping me catch
a priest killer?

My car died, so I called a cab
to get home.

I didn't read the sign
properly in the dark,

and it got towed.

Is that a crime?

No, it's not.

But you do seem to be having
a lot of car trouble recently.

Six months ago,
you got into a freeway crash.

I'm fine now.

Yes, you are.

According to
the accident report,

three people were killed
on that day.

Close call.

Close enough
to call a priest.

Sir, we know you confessed
to Father Adam.

You were gonna die.
You asked for last rites.

He wrote it down.

I sincerely doubt that.

It would be a violation
of his vows.

Oh, oh, so you are
Catholic, then?

What difference
does that make?

Plenty of people talk to priests
in hospitals.

This priest was killed
in one of your apartments.

Well,
that's a sad coincidence,

because I don't even remember
the guy.

Do you remember giving him
the name of your sons?

After you confessed,
were you thoughtful enough

to leave a message
for those boys?

About a secret you've kept
for the past seven years?

You said something to
Father Adam on your death bed.

Except you didn't die.

That made you anxious,
didn't it?

Because Father Adam
was urging you to confess again,

to us, maybe.

Confess what?

Well, you could tell us
what you did

to the mother of your sons.

Or you could tell us

that after realizing
you'd confessed too soon

and you weren't
going to die,

you lured the now inconvenient
Father Adam

to an apartment
you had set up to kill him

and ruin his good name.

How you put his dead finger
on the camera shutter

and rolled him up in a rug
just like you did your wife.

If you think I'm gonna
confess to all of that,

you're crazy.

Chief, they found
his wife's body.

I never thought you'd tell us
what you told Father Adam.

For one thing,
I can't absolve you.

God sees everything.

Does God see that you have
no evidence?

Look.

Since you've already
read me my rights,

I think it's time
I call an attorney.

Detective Sanchez.
Sir.

The next time you receive
last rites,

I'll be there
in the viewing room,

probably standing
next to your two sons.

You make sure you wave

before they put the needle
in your arm.

That's not gonna happen.

Well, you never know.

And, uh, sir,
I forgot to tell you.

We found your wife.

She cleared the church.

That makes you good
with Father Calhoun

and the Archbishop,
so...

What do you want to do
with this complaint?

Hey.

Will, I'm --

Look.

I'm...very sorry about barging
into the rectory yesterday.

That's not the problem.

I mean...thank you.
I appreciate the apology.

I do, but that's not
the real issue here.

What is?

The real issue is
I'm gonna be moving upstairs

to run this whole department
in my own right,

and I'm not gonna be
around to...

watch over you anymore.

You know?

Afraid I'll burn
the place down?

No.

No.

I'm -- I'm afraid
you'll burn yourself up.

You know?

Somebody's gonna be replacing me
as assistant Chief --

your immediate superior.

I think we know who that
somebody is likely to be,

and he's not gonna spend
a lot of time

putting up with
the kind of crap

I've let you get away with
over the years.

This was just another attempt
to try to change your attitude,

which...wasn't gonna work
anyway, so...

Besides, you don't want
this complaint on your record,

just in case you need to think
about circulating your résumé.

Good morning, darling.

Daddy, are you
making breakfast?

Yeah, pancakes.

I'm letting your mother
sleep in.

She's done enough
this past six months.

Oh, that's just about
the best thing

a person
could come home to.

Well, pancakes are a
wonderful thing.

Now I just need to stay awake
long enough to eat 'em.

Good morning, everybody.

Would you look at this?
Hey.

Yeah, I know.

I think it calls
for a cup of coffee.

Already made.
Help yourself.

Oh, Brenda Leigh, take
your mother a cup, would you?

She said something last night

about wanting to talk to you
this morning.

Right.

Take mine.
Welcome home.

Thank you.

Oh, and tell her breakfast
in 10 minutes.

Yes, sir.

You sleep well
last night?

Okay.

Without my daughter
tossing around next to you?

Mama, you awake?

Oh,
I hate to wake you up,

but daddy said breakfast
in 10 minutes,

which probably means 15.

Mama?

I-I'm gonna put
your coffee down here,

and you can have it
when you're ready, okay?

Mama, why don't you go ahead
and get up now.

We'll talk.

Fritz!!

Fritz!!

What? What?
Fritz!!

Mama, look!
What happened?!

What happened?!
Fritzi, help her!

Help her! Help her!
No!

No! Mama, please, no!

Mama! Mama!

== sync, corrected by elderman ==