Those Who Kill (2014): Season 1, Episode 3 - Rocking the Boat - full transcript

Previously on Those Who Kill...

The district attorney's office

has no choice but to determine

no abuse of force

on the part of Detective Jensen.

Write your cell here.
When you get

a text from me,
it's a one-time deal.

What you're implying
your stepfather did,

that he abused
and killed your brother?

The victim's ID
says Monica Marie Albreath.

She was the coffee person
at an AA meeting last night



right here at
the community center.

I'd like to
bring on Thomas Schaeffer.

I was wrong once before.

I made a mistake,
and people died.

This is an enormous
outburst of violence.

Probably male;
men use blunt weapons.

I was assigned
a John Doe. Kid.

Jumped off this bridge
the next day

after Monica Albreath's
body was found.

Blood type? O+.

I think the two cases
are connected.

Come on.

I'm a detective, not an actor.

Why you want me
in an AA meeting



pretending to be
something I'm not?

If we go in

as detectives
working a homicide,

no one will talk.

Look, I'm gonna
give you the words

to draw out the killer.

All you have to do is say them.

Monica Albreath married her
high school sweetheart.

He alibied out.

The woman was squeaky clean.

Sober three years.

Right, so either the murder

was totally random, or...

I don't think it was random.

The proximity of the blows,

the intensity of the rage...

you save that for
someone you know.

The one loose thread

we've got is Monica's sobriety.

What, you think
she fell off the wagon?

Could be.

I mean, her husband
said she stepped up

the amount of meetings
she was going to.

Either she was struggling,

or she was going
there to see someone.

Her killer.

You need to move quickly.

That beating went on

way after Monica was dead.

Which tells me that...

He got off on it.

It was a rush, a release.

But it's not
a one-off.

Look, you don't
explode like that

and then go back to...

bagging groceries
at the Piggly Wiggly.

He's gonna look for
another outlet.

He's gonna kill again.

Sooner than later.

First one's on him,
next one's on us.

Okay.

What do we have to say?

I got away with something

and I'm afraid
if I don't get caught...

then I can get away
with anything.

I'm not here to be forgiven.

If I wanted that, I could get it

any Sunday at St. Joseph's

for free from a guy in a dress
who doesn't even know me.

Know thyself.

I mean, how else do
you get to acceptance?

And I thought I did,
warts and all,

and then I did this.

I got away with something.

And, uh...

I'm afraid if
I don't get caught...

I could get away with anything.

Now, brother, please
don't get me wrong.

I'm not looking to be forgiven.

I am way beyond that.

But I'm here, right?

I mean, I showed up.

I gotta believe that
that means something.

It's, uh...

know thyself.

Know thyself, and...

and I thought I did,

warts and all.

But, uh...

then I did this thing, and...

What I'm trying
to say here is...

I didn't know what
I was capable of.

I don't want
to hurt anyone else.

I'm sorry, I need some air.

Pittsburgh PD!
I'm armed!

Show me your hands, now!

What'd I do?

- I said now!
- All right. All right.

I'm point on this

and I say it's time we dump
Schaeffer's theory already.

Let me guess,
you got one of your own?

You get my good side?

I didn't know there
was a bad one.

We nabbed an
up close and personal

of everyone in attendance.

We'll run 'em down.

See if anyone pops.

Good work.

Could you maybe
be more, uh, specific?

Well, the syllabus
made it sound awesome,

you know, like,

"Come spend an hour a week

listening to messed-up
murder stories."

Which is cool and all...

Is this about

your midterm exam,
Mr. Shindell?

You want us to actually

go inside these
dudes' heads, and...

I can't sleep.

I've got to drop your class.

Okay.

Well...

I'm sorry to hear
that, Mr. Shindell.

So how do you do it?

I mean...

that's got to get
inside you, too.

If you could all find a seat...

I'm just saying,
it's been almost a week

chasing the victimology
Schaeffer worked up.

Patience.

I'm a well of patience, okay?

A river.

Hell, ask anybody who knows me.

I'm an ocean of patience.

But eventually, every
source of water's gonna...

Look, I'm just saying
that it'll...

Did you pick the wrong
metaphor, Detective?

Monica came to

her first service at St. Jude's

when she was only
seven years old.

But she came with questions.

That was Monica.

Full of questions.

Full of life.

A life taken too soon.

You got a minute?

I'd like to propose
we head in a new direction

on the Albreath case.

All right, what
started me thinking

was there was no
money in her wallet.

So what if we're looking
at a mugging gone wrong?

Could be the kid's out
looking for a quick payday,

spots Albreath
alone in the alley,

but turns out she's not
giving up her purse so easy.

Things take an ugly turn,

a struggle ensues,

ending in Albreath dead
and in a dumpster.

- What about the writing?
- You mean the writing on the pavement?

I'm thinking it was the kid.

Say he got a case
of the guilts.

Could be he was writing
"I am sorry."

Or "I am guilty."

"I am hungry."
Whatever.

So he got interrupted
in the middle

of his opus, or was
scared he would be,

and takes off.

He can't live with what he did,

finds himself out at the bridge

looking at a life
of shame and jumps.

Done and done.

ID came back on the John Doe.

We've got a name.

Trevor Stewartson.

And he's got a record.

Quite an extensive one.

Fits with your theory.

I was just gonna
take it to Jensen,

but, uh, since you were
in such a hurry to chat...

And cut Thomas Schaeffer loose.

I'm going before
the board on Thursday,

every penny's gonna count.

Hey, Eric.

Cat Jensen.

Wow. So, what,
are you slumming?

No, I'm working a case

and I just needed
to clear my head.

God, it feels like
20 minutes ago

your stepdad was... was
coaching me and David.

Now he's coaching my boys.

It's crazy, right?

Yeah.

You know, I was thinking
about coming down

and giving Howard
an extra set of hands

on Saturday practice.

The boys would love that,

and, uh...
so would I.

Do you think I could get
a copy of the team roster?

You know, so I can connect
the faces to the names?

Yeah, I don't see why not.

Stick around?

Yeah.

Welcome back, you two.

You want to take a peek?

Well, it's still early on.

So sometimes it's
hard to get, but...

let's see.

Aha.

There.
You see it?

Hello there, you.

Let me try from
a different angle here.

Water.

It sounds like water.

Now, I've been doing
this a long time.

And I still never know
who's gonna cry first.

The water.

Go on, take it.

I'm a big girl.

I'll be right back.

Mm-hmm.

Hello.

Hey, uh, it's Molbeck.
Good news.

Jerry, uh... I was wrong.

The killer, I don't think
we're looking for a man.

Right, uh, we ID'd our jumper.
Name was Trevor Stewartson.

No, you're not listening to me.
You have to look for a...

Yeah, man,
you're making this hard.

Look, Trevor had a criminal
record as long as my arm.

Okay? That's impressive
for a kid that age.

This was a botched robbery.

Followed by a suicide.

Meaning that we no longer
require your services.

_

♪ bite chunks ♪

♪ out of me ♪

♪ you're a shark
and I'm swimming ♪

♪ my heart still thumps ♪

♪ as I bleed ♪

♪ and all your friends ♪

♪ come sniffing ♪

♪ triangles are
my favorite shape ♪

♪ three points
where two lines meet ♪

♪ toe to toe ♪

♪ back to back,
let's go, my love ♪

♪ it's very late ♪

♪ till morning comes ♪

♪ mm-mm-mm ♪

♪ let's tessellate ♪

You didn't tell me
to bring a towel.

The water got me thinking.

The cause of death
is listed as head trauma.

Uh, if you mean Trevor
Stewartson, then yeah.

Hit rocks.

What rocks?

You think I didn't
check the bathymetry?

The terrain of the river floor?

You can't see it from
the surface, but there are

enough rocks right below
the bridge to do the trick.

But let's say that Trevor and
Monica Albreath were killed

by the same person
possibly using the same weapon.

Did Mia check to see
if the head contu...?

First it's not suicide,
now it's murder?

Which begs the question.

Why were their bodies
treated so differently?

Monica was literally pulverized
and left to rot in the dumpster.

While Trevor's body was moved

so that he could be
laid to rest gently.

She buried him here.

"She"?

The killer is a woman.

Two days ago you say we're
looking for a male suspect.

Now it's a woman?

What's it gonna be tomorrow?

Look, I'm not an oracle.

Sometimes I'm wrong.

Is this because
Molbeck cut you loose?

Because it's a hell
of a long way to get to...

What?

They missed it.

Trevor was a John Doe when
they canvassed this scene.

They must've only done a sweep
of the bridge and not below.

We have to bag this
and confirm it belongs to him.

Oh, come on,
you know that it does.

It all comes back to the water.

It's got
a soothing quality to it.

Almost gentle.

Men and women are
different animals.

Up to and including how
they would dispose of a body.

Men prefer dirt.

Men like to get
their hands dirty.

But women?

They favor water.

Okay, let's say for
sake of argument

that there's one killer--
a woman-- and two victims.

But if she could get away
with a clean kill,

why would she risk moving
one of the bodies?

The different treatment

of the victims
leads me to believe

that there was
a personal connection

between the killer and Trevor.

Monica was a stranger.

But Trevor?

She couldn't stand
to put him in a dumpster.

Molbeck's point on this.

And as far as him and my boss
are concerned,

this case is closed.

So you're giving up?

I'm the only one
who's given two shits

about Trevor Stewartson since...

Okay, Catherine, I...

What?

You what?!

It could've been David.

Don't move.

You like?

Mm-hmm.

I always used to paint my nails

when I was a little girl.

Always pinks and reds.

I used to be happy.

Then he took it
all away from me.

But I stayed good.

I'm talking too much.

My mother always said,

"Don't burden others
with your problems."

Such a pretty shade.

I've done something,
Mrs. Steinmetz.

Something very, very bad.

It's opened a door.

And I don't think
I can close it again.

I don't want to.

Everybody's got to pay.

You are my sunshine.

Sweet Mary.

It's Angela, Ma.

Mary's in Boston, remember?

Has been for going
on three years now?

Plea...
Don't rush away on my account.

Please, stay.

No, we were done already.

I'll see you at breakfast,
Mrs. Steinmetz.

Hey.

Don't ever touch me.

What you're implying
your stepfather

- did to your brother...
- I know what he did.

- David's missing person's rep...
- He's not missing!

David's dead.

And Howard killed him.

Catherine.

You're smarter than that.

Howard Burgess,
he's not just your stepfather.

He's a judge.

And a highly
regarded one at that.

Now, if you go after him,
you'll get one swing.

And what you've got,
what you've shown me,

it's all circumstantial.

Oh, bullshit.

Not to mention obtained through
highly questionable means.

Now, David's file...

I can understand, he's family.

But the others?

You have xeroxed copies

of juvenile cases

Burgess worked,
sealed court papers

from Indiana to West Virginia
all held together

with concert stickers
and duct tape.

It doesn't matter how I got them

if they're the truth.

Just help me prove it.

What did he do to you,
Catherine?

It's not about me.

Because right now
the only evidence

that I can see
against Judge Burgess...

is that you profile
like a victim.

I don't care if it's 500 units.

We're gonna shove it
down their throats

and make 'em think it's honey.

All right?

One second.

_

We'll... finish
this tomorrow.

Hey.

How did you know that...?

Where can we go?

- Ow!
- I'm sorry, are you okay?

Shut up.

♪ I can touch ♪

♪ I can touch ♪

♪ I can touch... ♪

You hear we ID'd my John Doe?

Blessed be.

Could you do me a solid?

Move him up in line
for an autopsy

now that he has a name.

Something about COD
isn't sitting right.

But this time I'm coming to you

instead of raiding your files
while you're asleep.

Think of it as growth.

Wait, says here
your jumper's body

was claimed yesterday.

Oh!

Damn it!

Hey, babe.

- I have to...
- Hey.

You're going out?

Yeah, just the ob-gyn.

Another blood test.

What?

Uh...

Hey, every pregnancy
is different.

Just because we had
complications with John...

They said it was just
a lab screwup. No big deal.

Okay.

Are we going down
the rabbit hole again?

We're fine.

Do you want me to support you?

Or do you want me
to tell you to walk away?

What I want...

is for you to have
a great blood test.

- Hmm?
- Hmm.

Hmm.

Yes.

Trevor Stewartson's body's gone.

And the name of the woman
that signed for him?

It's bogus.
So is her cell number.

She claimed to be a friend
of the family.

You still there?

Yeah, I'm still here.

Well, did you hear what I said?

A woman claimed the body.

A man who used a false name
to cover her tracks.

I mean, it goes to your theory.

We need to poke a hole
in Molbeck's idea,

prove that Trevor was the victim
and not the perpetrator.

If only we could find out
more about where he came from

or what made him tick.

Yeah, but Trevor's juvenile
records are sealed.

But you know
a family court judge.

Hey there, pussycat!

How are ya?

Good to see you.

This is Professor
Thomas Schaeffer.

He's advising me on the case.

Professor!

Sir.

So, where'd you study?

Uh, Wecht Institute of Forensic
Science and Law

at Duquesne University.

Oh, well, then you're
not a Pitt native.

No, sir.
Rochester born and raised.

Rochester!

That's a farm team
for the Minnesota Twins.

You a Twinkie?

I'm Buckos since birth.

Attaboy! Attaboy.

Well, lets get to, uh,
what you came here for.

Remind me, what was it?

Trevor Stewartson.

Stewartson, right, right.

He factors into a homicide

I'm working.

In order to move forward,
I need to have

a better understanding
of his psychological history.

Stewartson...

Here it is.
I got it.

I got it, got it,
got it, got it.

Stewartson.

Huh...

Uh-oh. This might make things
complicated.

There are allegations
of abuse here.

Physical or sexual?

Well, either way,
as an officer of the court,

there are certain files
in this document

I feel obligated to redact.

Trevor Stewartson's deceased.

Yes, but his alleged abusers
are not.

You could file
a motion to unseal.

That'll take the better part
of a year.

Yeah, and you'd lose.

But, uh, I can tell you

there were
appropriate measures taken

and that the foster home--
its license was revoked.

After a thorough assessment,

I hope.

So often,
children misunderstand,

mistake care, love, even,

for something inappropriate.

I mean, one badly
worded question

from a Child Welfare worker

can destroy the lis of a well-meaning
mother or father--

foster mother or father,
of course.

You must see it every day.

I certainly do.

I'm sorry. I can't release
the files outright.

My hands are tied.

But I could give you
selected pages.

How's that for a compromise?

Hmm?

Okay.

The name and address

of the foster home...

Sorry, no on that.

Nope, not that.

Oh, now here we go.

Here's a list
of offenses committed

while still a juvenile.

Hope that'll help.

Terrific.

And that, as they say, is that.

So, we seeing you
for supper on Sunday?

I'm on pie duty.

Good. Good.

You have a game that day?

Oh, yes, as a matter of fact,
I do.

Howard coaches bantam hockey.

Well, I...

Show him.
I know you want to.

I'm guilty as charged.

Professor, let me show you
something here.

This is last year's
season champs.

Now, the boys

haven't let success
go to their heads.

They're ready to work hard.

So, uh, Professor,
until our paths cross again.

Yes, sir.

Cat, always good to see you.

- You, too, Howie.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, that wasn't
what I was expecting.

The great
Honorable Judge Burgess?

You.

Stroking a narcissist.
That ever work?

He gave us nothing pertaining
to Trevor's behavioral profile.

Reading for the drive
up to Waterfall.

Why, what's in Waterfall?

Trevor's last foster family.

Ten kids,

three with burn marks,
including Trevor.

One pregnant

but refusing to admit
the name of the father?

Trevor knew firsthand what
his foster parents had done.

If he confronted either
one of them...

I gotta hit the loo.

Hey, Catherine.

You okay?

The Fedaks are considered
people of interest, suspects.

I want you to observe and give

your social and psychological
assessment, but don't...

Don't speak unless
mortally wounded?

Mr. Fedak?

You expecting someone?

No, I wasn't expecting anyone.

There's a couple on the porch.

Yes?

Mrs. Fedak,
I'm Catherine Jensen.

I'm with the Pittsburgh...

Child Welfare!

You got my letters!

Oh, now you get
yourselves in here!

Scrapple-- it's a
Pennsylvania Dutch delicacy.

Hog offal.

Mrs. Fedak,

about those letters...

Oh, we just want
to get our kids back.

It has been so quiet here
without them.

Well, to ensure that you can
meet the basic standards

of health, safety
and well-being,

we're gonna have
to ask you some questions.

Of course!
Shoot.

Our records show that you had
ten foster kids living

on the farm when your
license was revoked?

Ten plus one of our own,
little Boyd.

And have you kept in touch
with any of them?

Oh, I wish with my whole heart

that were the case,

but you all kind of swooped in
on us unexpected-like.

Didn't exactly give us
much time

to exchange new addresses.

I do have dreams, though.

Sometimes at night,

one of our children
will come to me.

Just like angels.

What about Trevor Stewartson?

Does he ever haunt your dreams?

Oh, Trevor!

Mm! Sharp as a tack, but that
boy is his own worst enemy.

Trevor would save himself
a mess of pain

if he could just learn to let go
of things and-and move on.

Now who is gonna stand
there and tell me

that these kids aren't
better off here

in a decent family
who-who can...?

Sweetheart, you're...

The bathroom is

the third door down the hall.

You must be Little Boyd.

You got dogs?

Not anymore.

Have you seen Trevor?

He likes horses.

Penny for your
thoughts, Professor.

Yeah, I'll tell you what,

I'll give you a dollar
for yours, Detective.

I don't think
Mrs. Scrapple's capable.

Last she heard,

Trevor was living
on the streets.

She claims she hasn't seen him

in over two years, and...

I'm inclined to believe her.

Sometimes it's not
about what you see

but what you don't.

The Fedaks may not have
seen Trevor, but he was here.

Receipts from Goodwill.

He bought the suit
over a week ago.

How did you know
to come out here?

Well, that house
was a hellhole.

He needed an escape,
a safe place.

I had one.

A 19-year-old

doesn't put on a tie
unless it counts.

You're right.

It was personal, he...

he might've known the killer.

Yes, that would explain
the progression of the beatings.

Trevor was killed with
two forceful blows to the head.

More consistent with surprise
than premeditated attack.

The second victim...

the repeated strikes,

the flat-out pulverizing
of Monica Albreath...

the intensity is building.

Why did you come back?

What is it?

That's the kid from AA,
Diego Rodriguez.

He was in the same meeting
as Monica Albreath.

He's Trevor's foster brother.

I need a 10-20
on a person of interest.

Who were you going
to meet, Trevor?

What are you...?

Do you see me?
Do you see me, damn it?

Here I am!

Un--

No.

No!

You do not get to do that to me!

_

Sorry to bother
you at suppertime,

but I thought you should know.

A young man's been
coming around,

asking about you.

Would you like a cup of tea?

Sure.

Diego!

Hey!

Hey!

Diego, stop!

Stop!

Pittsburgh Police!
Let me see your hands!

It was about a week ago.

Didn't you get my messages?

Don't get me wrong, he was
perfectly respectful, but...

he was asking
these personal things, like

"When do you get home?"
and

"Do you live alone?".

Of course, I didn't answer.

He have a name?

Oh, I didn't ask.

But he's tall and
lean. Maybe 20 or so.

And he's... black.

Sweetener?

Oh, yes, please.

I-I figured it's important,

seeing as he came around
more than once.

Oh, he left his cell number.

I have it right here.

Angela, what are you...?