Unforgettable (2011–2016): Season 1, Episode 14 - Carrie's Caller - full transcript

A serial killer with knowledge of Carrie's memory abilities taunts the Queens PD as his list of victims grows.

Excuse me, I got
a report of a shooting.

Detective Wells?


That'll be $24.80.

That includes
the police discount.

Lunch! Come and get
it while it's hot.

It's so nice
of you, detective.

Here you go.

Gyro, extra tomatoes,
like you had last Friday.

In fact, I did.

Yes, you, chicken kabob.

You forgot to tell them
to hold the tabbouleh,

so I took the liberty.

Thank you.

For the record,
it wasn't my idea.

But did you remember
the extra sauce?

Extra sauce.

You know what,
I like pranks. I do.

But you know what I love?

It may take me months,
it may take me years...

But you never forget.

Really, guys?

I've been here five months,
you plan an initiation now?

Yeah, well, this is
the six-month initiation,

age-old tradition at T 117.

Yeah, you don't want to know
what happens at 11 months.

Queens Homicide.

Good afternoon, detective.

I'm about to kill someone.

Very funny, Roe.

It's 1:38 now. At 1:56,
someone else will die.

Who is this?

The question you should be
asking is, where is this?

Someone will die
in 16 minutes.

Okay, you said
someone else

before-- what'd
you mean by that?

Good question. Yesterday
afternoon, Raritan Bay Park.

South Amboy, New Jersey.
Right between the eyes,

- if I may be permitted a cliche.
- Mike. Jersey Homicide.

I need to know if
something went down

in Raritan Bay Park yesterday.

You got a name, pal?

15 minutes. That's all you get.


He says he shot a guy in the
head in Jersey yesterday.

And he's going to
kill again in 15 minutes.

You got it.

South Amboy New Jersey,
38-year-old man

walking his dog
takes a bullet in the head.

- No suspects.
- Until now.

Could be a hoax;
was it in the paper?

No, not the location
of the wound.

The victim was shot
in the forehead.

And, and, no, no. They kept
that back from the press.

This guy knew about it.
I think he's for real.

Okay, that gives us 14 minutes.

Well, where is he?

All right, I'm gonna get Tanya to
do a trace on the incoming call.

There were sounds.

Voices, I could hear them in the
background while he was talking.

will die in 16 minutes.

Stand clear of the closing doors

A subway...

Next stop,
Queensborough Plaza.

Queensborough Plaza.

- Can you pull up a map?
- Yeah.

One stop away from
Queensborough Plaza

elevated train,
or I wouldn't have heard it.

That's the seven...

Right here. 45th Road
and Courthouse Square.

Court Square,
we've got 12 minutes.

I don't know, maybe
we got the wrong place.

Or maybe this guy
was just a kook.

That's it, 16 minutes.

Someone help!

My God!

My God, help him!

My God!

Someone help him!
My God!

My God,
Oh, my God!

S01 E12 - Carrie's Caller

Victim is Derek Wallen,

office over on 34th Street,
was jogging with a friend,

Moira Eastlake--
Roe's on it.

Okay, no one heard
a shot, right?

So, he must have
used a suppresser.

We did the best we could
to seal off the square.

Chances are,
he got through.

Someone must have seen
something, you know?

Plus, open plaza like this,

there's gotta be
some security footage.

Mike and Nina are
collecting what they can.

Thank you very much.
Thank you.

She said uh,

one second, they're
running, he's fine.

Next second, he just collapsed.
And she didn't see a thing.

What was their relationship?

They don't really have one.

They met at Java Hut,

started running at
lunchtime about a month ago.

He's divorced,
she thinks. No kids.

All right, as soon as we can,
I want to run his profile

up against the
victim yesterday in Jersey.

You got to be kidding me.

What are you doing?
Excuse me.

Hey, ma'am, excuse me.
You can't be in here.

I'm going to have to
ask you to leave.

What is it? Going to ask? You
have to ask? Or you're asking?

- Carrie...
- This is a crime scene.

What tipped you off?

Was it the gaping wound in the
parietal section of his skull?

- Cause' that's what clued me in.
- All right..


Unless you're with the
medical examiner's office...

She is the medical examiner.

Joanne Webster, call me Jo.
And you are?

Carrie Wells, call me Carrie.

Lieutenant Al Burns, this is
Detective Roe Saunders,

Apologize for the

Please, Detective.

A vigorous defense of a crime
scene needs no apology.

And in all honesty,

this is my
second day on the job,

so my badgey thingie
is in process.

Apparently, lamination
and winning baseball

has yet to hit this borough.

So, Jo?

What do we got?

Well, my initial
assessment was probably--

don't write this down--

is that we have

a half-inch entrance wound
in the squama frontalis

and a fairly large
exit wound,

about three and a half inches
below the posterior midline.

Trauma consistent with a
high-velocity round.

A sniper.


Makes sense.

Our running partner didn't see
anyone, said he just collapsed.

You think you can estimate the
entry angle of the bullet?

Can Jeter turn two?

Not as fast as he used to.

Okay, so assuming our guy
was coming this way across the plaza--

he's about 5'7"--

the bullet enters from this
angle at about 120 degrees.

I'd say your shot
came from over there.

Fourth floor,
third window from the right.

It was open before the shooting,
now it's closed.

How do you know?

I have a really good memory.

Let's go.

Come on, she really knows
which window?

Can Jeter turn two?

I'm getting video
from the lobby.

Whole floor was rented
to a telemarketer

till a couple of months ago.
Been vacant since.

Al, look at this.

Yeah, perfect.

What's that?
Like 150 meters?

He's gotta be trained.
Let's assume military?

Wallen would've
been running right at him.

The victim in Jersey
was shot in the forehead, too.

So, hees to
see their faces.

Right between the eyes.

Hey, look at this.

Stuff's been here
at least a day,

maybe two or three.

Means the guy scouted the
location in advance.

We'll see if we can pull
some prints off here,

maybe some DNA off
the food if we're lucky.

You... You realize that
was Joanne Webster,

you were talking to, right?


Are you kidding? I was about to
go up and tell her

not to contaminate
the crime scene.

Man, I'm glad
I didn't do that.

I'm going to go check
on that security video.

I'll go get
the CSU guys up there.

Okay, who is Joanne Webster,

and why is everyone acting like
she's the second coming...?

Joanne Webster was the chief
medical examiner of New York.

She's been wrangling
with the mayor for years.

Most recently over
his pick for district attorney.

She got too much
seniority to be fired,

so the best they could do was
take away her desk job,

ship her out to Queens.

Word is, lots of brains,

lots of attitude,
and not shy with her opinions.

My kind of people.

Yeah, you got along
with her great.

You'll be getting your
mani-pedis together in no time.


Lucky for you,

word is, she may not last
too long out here.

That's what they said about me.

Okay, what do we have
on our victims?

Yesterday, Theodore Rosio,
38, car salesman

from Perth Amboy, New Jersey.

Raised outside of Albany.
University of Rochester,

married, two children.

Today, Dr. Derek Wallen, 39,

from Jamaica State.

Raised in Yonkers,
PhD from the New School.

Not exactly
from the same worlds.

Well maybe our shooter
bought a lemon from Rosio

and got some bum
therapy from Wallen.

Yeah, if that happened,
we'll find out about it.

I'm cross-referencing friends,
family and employees.

See if there's any link.

What about the
other crime scene?

Yeah, Jersey boys
sent over what they have.

Preliminary analysis indicates a
similar-caliber round,

still trying to ID the weapon.

Well, Rosio's walking his dog,

which he did
on a regular schedule.

Wallen ran the same
time every day.

Our guy definitely tracks him.

Explains the takeout
up in the office.

What about Carrie's caller?
Any luck with the trace?

The number comes
back to a disposable burner.

But I'm not giving up.

There are ways of
triangulating off the signal

using similar log point
reception areas...

I'll let you know.

Thank you.

Hey, I got
something on Wallen.

It looks like
he's been volunteering

two days a week at the VA
Hospital in the city.

He had an incident
recently with a, uh...

Louis Bane, a former Marine.

Apparently Bane made several threats
to a bunch of different doctors.

Fits with our
military theory.

Yeah, well, the scary part is,
they've been looking for him

for the last few weeks.
He's in the wind.

Okay, let's see if Bane links
to our first victim, Rosio.

Then maybe we're in business.

So according to the cop
covering the switchboard,

this guy asked for you by name.

Look, there was nothing
personal to me on that call.

I mean, I was quoted on a case
in the Post last week.

Maybe he got my name from there.

Either way, we should do
some due diligence

on your past cases,
just to make sure.

How come I never get
my name in the papers?

Well, you got to have
something smart to say.

I think it's the red hair.

I'm thinking about
dyeing mine tonight.

- Pink, maybe a blond or...
- Yeah.

Carrie Wells.

Hi, Carrie. Remember me?

Well, how could I forget you?

That's true. How could you?

So, you know my name.

How come I
don't know yours?

In time.

Well... if this is
gonna be a relationship,

I got to call you something.

How about Fred?

So, what's going on, Fred?

I'm sorry about this morning.

You were just a bit late.

That was nice, though--

letting me hear
the subway announcement.

What is this, some kind of test?

One you passed
with flying colors.

Except Derek Wallen's dead.

That wasn't your fault.

He was always going to die.

So, what's next, Fred?

Where are you heading?

It's not where I'm heading,

it's where I've been.

Is that a riddle, now?

Why, are you stumped?

Need a hand?




Where are you going?

Raritan Bay Park, where
he killed yesterday.

He wants me out in Jersey.

Which is maybe why
you should stay here.

Al, I got to go--
this is another test.

You pass your test yet?
My feet are freezing.

If I knew the questions,
I'd know the answers.

I got a question for you--

How do you know you're not
in his crosshairs right now?

Because if he wanted
to kill me, I would...

You'd be dead.
Famous last words.

He wanted me
out here for a reason.

There's something
he wants me to see.

There's nothing around here.

Teddy Rosio was shot right
between the eyes, but where...

were you hiding?

Why, are you stumped?

Need a hand?

Too easy, Fred.

I think I passed the test.

You want a gold star?

A hand will do.

Right here.

That's 300 meters, at least.

Our boy can shoot.


I didn't see his face.

I'd say it just
got personal.

Because it is personal.

People are being
murdered, right?

I'm our one link
to this guy.

As long as I keep
talking to him,

we have a chance of solving...

I will not have him
calling the shots.

- It's too dangerous.
- I'll be calling the shots.

I won't risk it.

Al, would you please
stop worrying about me

- for two seconds?
- I'm worried about

our investigation--
and I don't like

being led around like a bull
with a ring in my nose.

Except if I play things right,
I'll be leading him around.

Come on, Al.

You know I'm good at it.

Okay, but you're
on a very short leash.

Ooh, I like that idea.

Maybe I should put
a ring in my nose.

Yeah, I like that idea.

But first,

I gave Mike Solloway
a call up in Syracuse.

Asked him to pull up
any old cases you worked on

involving unidentified
shooters, in case you

and Phone Boy have a history.

Thanks. That's very
thoughtful of you.

I'll make myself at home.

That's it!

I've run every parameter
at least a dozen times.

I-I can't find anything
that links our two vics.

I thought for five minutes
they went to the same podiatrist,

but then one's a Dr. Black
and the other's a Dr. Blake.

It was the podiatrist in
the study with nail clippers.

What else you got?

Not much. Rosio and Wallen
are around the same age.

Talked to the families,

guess they were a little
wild, these kids--

pot, some truancy.

Couldn't find
any juvie records,

but, then, that would have
been expunged by now anyway.

It's a dead end on
that vet Wallen was treating.

Turns out he did make
some pretty violent threats,

but his alibi
kind of clears him.

He was at the doctor being
fitted for prosthetic arms.

Nice digs.

Thank you.

Not much, but we call it...

the squad room.

You should see
where they have me.

You guys still over
at Staten, right?

If by "still" you mean
after 87 years, yeah.

I swear, I have John Wilkes
Booth in a freezer over there.

Well, welcome to Queens.

I'm not complaining.
It's cozy.

And I get to see the examiners
who work for me.

Over on First Avenue, I would go
for days without human contact,

living or dead.

But I actually like getting out,

going to scenes.

I haven't had a scalpel
in my hand in years.

I forgot how much I missed it.

Yeah, well, you had me
till the last part.

So... I fast-tracked
the Wallen autopsy.

I had my friend Marty Singer
over in Trenton

do the same with the first vic.

Nothing on the
wounds, and from

the "what we already know" file,

ballistics came back
a match-- same weapon

both crimes-- probably
a Dragunov or a Sako.

Classic sniper rifle.

- Bolt-action. Venerable.
- Great.

We'll run it through IBIS,
check the gun shops,

gun shows, see what turns up.



He's calling again.

I'm up.

Okay, everyone quiet!

Make sure it's routed
through Tanya.

Hey, Fred.
How's it going?

Did you find my little surprise?

You mean the photo.

That was nice work--
you got my good side.

Glad you liked it.

You're a real shooter, Fred;
pardon the pun.

Sense of humor--

I imagine that's important
in your line of work.

You know what's
more important, Fred?

Time management-
and right now I don't have time...

for you.

What? You told me
to call the shots.

What happened
to the whole

"keep him talking,
trace the call"?

What can I say?
He pissed me off.

Come on,

he's way too smart
to get trapped

- by some phone trace.
- If I may?

He's also arrogant
and domineering,

loves a challenge-- it's
the basic sniper DNA.

Thank you very much.

And right now
I am his challenge.

Not anymore; you hung up.

He'll call back.

And when he does,

he will want
to reassert his dominance.

Which is maybe, hopefully,
when he makes a mistake.

Or he's pissed
you hung up on him,

kills six more people,
and calls back

to give you the bird.

Guess we got disconnected,

Well played, Carrie.
I'm impressed.

I'm not playing, Fred.

We're very busy around here.

We've got a murderer to catch.

How's that going?

I'm feeling pretty positive
about it right now.

I like the hunt.

I'm pleased to have
so accomplished a partner.

Happy hunting.


So now he's your partner.

I hope you know what
the hell you're doing.

Hey, what is your problem, Al?

You're not invulnerable,
you know that?

Okay, but I was right--
he called back.

On some level this guy
wants to get caught.

And on another level

he wants to blow your
head off before we do!

I will be careful,
I promise you.

And so will I-- you're
staying in a hotel tonight,

and I'm putting a uniform
outside your door.

- I'm not, and you're not.
- There's no discussion here.

- There's always discussion.
- There's not always discussion.

- Name one time.
- You know the time.

- That time?
- Yeah, that time.

Fine. But I'm not
staying at a hotel.

I'm staying here,
in case he calls.

Fine. But I don't care
what time it is,

you're not leaving here alone.


- Good.
- Good.

There was a discussion.


I liked how
you handled that.

- It was smart.
- Or stupid.

What I liked was
you didn't care.

That can get you into
trouble sometime.

Tell me about it.

Right. You and
the new D.A.

I wasn't saying anything that
anybody else wasn't saying.

Except you said
it... out loud.


On The View.

"If sending innocent people to
jail is the price we have to pay

"to protect our freedoms,
then pretty soon

we won't have any freedoms
worth protecting."

Very impressive stuff.

I'm impressed
you remembered.


But, of course, that's
what you do, isn't it?

Fred isn't the only one
that knows about you.

Well, now I'm flattered.

Well, maybe I know too much.

I looked into your case--

your sister's case.

We should talk
about it sometime.

After 28 years,
I only have...

one lead, which leads...


So not much to talk about.

But you've never given up.

Sometimes I wish I could.

There was a serial case
on Long Island.

The guy took his first victim
July 4, 1976.

Teenage girl.

He left a partial palm
print from his right hand

on her Welcome Back,
Kotter backpack.

22 years

and 16, or... God knows
how many victims later,

everybody else
had given up.

But every year,
like clockwork,

on July Fourth, I would run
those prints in the system.

Any luck?


Until July 5, 1998,
I got a match.


Sixth-grade teacher,
lived there all his life.

His prints were in the system

because he argued
a speeding ticket.

You can never give up in
this business, never.

But it does make for
some long nights.

Good night.


Detective Wells, please.

I'm sorry. Who-Who is this?

Detective, this is Maria Belen,
Darien Memorial Hospital.

I was given your number
by a relative of Allyson Tate's.

He said you'd be handling
Ms. Tate's case,

and I should contact
you regarding...

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait, wait, slow down.

I'm sorry. Allyson Tate?

Yes. She was shot
at 6:15 this morning

at the Darien
Metro North Station.

Is she alive?

Of course.
She's in Intensive Care right now,

but we expect her to
make a full recovery.

I'm sorry.
Who gave you this number?

A relative of Ms. Tate's.

I believe a Mr. Fred?

One minute, I was kissing
my husband good-bye.

The next, it was like
my whole body exploded.

They told me
the bullet went clean through.

I think that's supposed
to be good or something.

It just missed Duane.

Where is Mr. Tate?

He went to get my stuff.

I guess I'm gonna
be here a while.

Mrs. Tate,

do you know
these men?

Never seen 'em before.


You said you were kissing
your husband good-bye.

Was he going on a trip
or something?

No. I was driving him
to the train.

He works in the city.

Usually, he drives himself,

but last night, well...

we had a fight,
so, to make up, I drove him.

Okay. Thank you.

We'll check back later, but, uh,
just get some rest for now.

I'm sorry.

How were you kissing
your husband?

What? I don't understand.

I need to know

how you were standing when
you were kissing your husband.

I don't know.
He was getting out

of the car, and I...
I sort of surprised him.

Why? Is there
something wrong with that?

You were shot from behind?


She wasn't the target.

Your husband's at home?

I think so.
What's going on?!

We need to speak
to your husband.

It'll be all right.

This is Lieutenant Al Burns,

I need you to get a unit to 146
Stonybrook Road immediately.

Duane Tate?

Is Allyson okay?

We need to talk.

So, no calls, threatening
letters, e-mails?

No, nothing like that.

I mean, I do mostly
home loans and refinancing.

With the recession and all,
people aren't happy,

but around here,
everybody's doing okay, so...

Do you know these men?

Those the guys who died?

I don't think so.

Wait a second.


Yeah, I know 'em.

It's been a long
time, though.

About 20 years ago,

I got in some trouble.

The judge gave me the choice between
jail time or this camp that they had.

- Camp?
- Broad Meadow.

It's a work farm up
near the state border.

They took tough kids
like me, and, uh,

they showed us what
tough really was.

And these men
went there, too?

Yeah. Yeah, we three
were a regular outfit.

Badass kids, the worst.

Kept the other bad asses
from dumping on us.

We even scared some
of the counselors.

Hell, they would let us get away
with anything.

Sounds like you
made some enemies.

I don't know.
All us punks were just

on the same boat,
trying to get through.

You know, it wasn't personal.

With all due respect, Mr. Tate,

someone's taking it
pretty personal.

We're gonna need the
names of every kid

who went through that camp
in the early '90s.

Where was it?

South Taconic Mountains.

It's a beautiful area.

Until they transferred me,
I used to go

hiking up there
at least once a year.

That's, uh... that's me
and Allyson at Crown Gorge.

Better times.

Stuff's been here

at least a day.

Maybe... Maybe two or three.

What is Crown Gorge?

It's just a spot near the camp.

They used to let us-- well,

they would make us-- go running up and
down in there, and I got to like it.

Okay, I know this
is gonna sound crazy,

but I think our guy might
have a thing for crowns.

Specifically, Crown Gorge.

Can you think of anyone,
or any reason why?



Nothing. I just...

There was this kid.

He wasn't one of us.

His dad was a local,
worked the farm.

He was just one
of those people.

He just

wasn't right in the head,
and everybody knew it.

And one time, uh,
Teddy and Derek and I--

we decided to have
a little fun with him.

This was a long time ago.

Okay. Go on.

We took him up to Crown Gorge.

There was only way in or out.

And we, uh...

we sort of played a game.

What kind of game?

It was a hunting game.

You hunted him?

Just with rocks,


But I remember him
staring at me

with that goofy face,

the blood running down.

I don't usually think about it.

What was his name?

Everybody just called him

Do you know anyone else we
could contact at Broad Meadow?

It's-It's been closed for years,

but you might want to try, um,

Dick Simons. He was the manager
of the place.

Look, I was 17.

I-I... I made myself over.

I'm not the same person
that I was.

Yeah, well, neither,
it seems, is Sparky.

It's not that I
regret those years.

We did a lot of good
for a lot of young men.

But it's a more
peaceful life now.

Maybe too much so.

Mr. Simons, do you recall a boy

who might have gone
by the name of Sparky?

Yes, I do.

That's what they called
Lester Collins.

You knew this kid?

Let's say I tried
to know him.

His father, Gordon,
came with the farm, so to speak,

knew everything about it.

But Lester... well,

he was just one of those boys
who breaks your heart.

How so?

He just didn't understand
what people wanted from him.

You know, young people
speak a language

of signals and cues.

Lester couldn't learn
that language.

Made him an outsider.

Lester just wanted to
be like everybody else.

I'm afraid that the other boys
made that impossible.

Would have been easier if
he'd been mentally challenged,

but he was intelligent,
fiercely so.

Do you know where
we can find Lester now?

I was in touch with Gordon
until about eight years ago

when he sadly passed.

I think Lester was living
with him after he left the army.

He was in the military?


Do you know why he left?

He was dishonorably discharged.



I'm not interrupting, am I?

I don't know. It depends.
What do you got?

Okay, now,

I sort of borrowed this
highly-classified call-tracking program

that the FBI sort of
borrowed from the NSA.

It's called Spider Bot.
Like, how cool is that?

It, uh...

It crawls through the web
of signals spun, as it were...

- Right.
- ...by a cellular network,

disregarding millions
of potentially tasty...


- If you will.
- As it were.

Until it finds, you know,
a really juicy one.

In this case, three
really juicy ones.

Your caller--

he's one of these three numbers.

Bravo, Tanya.

Very nice work!


That means a lot
coming from you.

It's really nice.

What are you two talking about?

Biology. You wouldn't
be interested.

I like biology.

Really? Tanya caught a fly.

Tanya, did it work?

What? You said you were using
BR-631 to find the shooter.

Can we call him?


We are dialing the numbers
of three disposable cell phones,

AKA burner cells.

- Okay.
- Burner number one.

What's that? Jessie?

No, not Jessie.

Who are you calling?

Do you need something?
I could hook you up.

Yeah. No, we're
all good, thank you.

Could have asked the room.

All right, next.

Number two.


Who is this, please?

Wrong number. Sorry.

Are you going to the airport?

No. No, airport. I wish.

All right... just...

Third time's a charm.

Let's do it.

Okay, burner number three.


What took you so long?

Why you been playing
so hard to get?

I'm easy.

Come find me,
and I'll show you how easy.

Sure, just tell me
where you are.

Can't you see on your computer?

Should have traced me by now.

Well, you could just
tell me where you are

and make it easier
on both of us, Lester.

Very good.

You've lived up
to your reputation, detective.

And you can call me Sparky.


No, see, Sparky was a victim,
a tortured young man.

Lester Collins is a killer.

Don't lecture me about the past.

The past never goes away.

You know that better
than anyone.

You're right, I do know that.

And no matter how many people
you kill, Lester,

Sparky will still be there,
trapped in Crown Gorge,

alone and terrified.

Right again.

There was no way out for me.

And there's no way out for him.

Who's him, Lester?

We already have Duane Tate.
You already killed

Rosio and Wallen,
so who's left to kill?

We'll see; you can see, too.

But don't be late.

Say around 2:27, okay?

That gives you
a couple of hours.

Who knows,
maybe you'll save him.

Good luck.

Hey, Lester?


Did we get him?

I'm gonna say yes.

Yes, all right.

35th to 38th Street.

First Avenue to Third.

That's some of the densest
real estate in the city.

He wants us to hunt
him; he likes it.

What we have to figure out
is who he's hunting.

Who does he think
deserves to die?

Hell, they would let us
get away with anything.

All of us were on the same boat.

Just trying to get through.

That's what Duane Tate
said, right?

They were kids.

They weren't responsible.

Who was? The adults, the staff.

He's going after
one of the counselors.

We need to find out who
took care of those kids.

Well, whoever it is,

they have exactly one hour
and 56 minutes to live.

So, I talked to our
friend, Duane Tate.

He give us the names
of his counselors?

Sure. Of course,
he couldn' remembered any last names.

According to him, it was first
names only there at Happy Fields

or Playful Farms,
whatever the hell it was.

I got a... a Brian, a Louis,
two Johns, and a Tuffy.

And what is that?

Is it a trash bag?

What about the camp
manager, Richard Simons?

Yeah, tried him, too, went
straight to voicemail.

I got state and local
police out looking for him.

Okay, stay on it.

The fact is, he could
be our next victim.

All right, check it out.

Been running down the staff
list Simons gave us before

for Broad Meadow, 1990 to 1993.

Now, there are only three

former counselors
currently living

in the greater New York area.

Mr. Charles Olsen lives
up in Hartsdale.

He's a currency trader downtown.

Lovell Ramirez from the Bronx.

He's a super at
P.S. 63 in Brooklyn.

Got patrol on the
way to both of 'em.

Okay, who's the third?

Mr. Barry Tanner.

Lives in Atlantic Highlands.

He's an assistant
manager at Bergdorf's.

He went home early; his
daughter's got a dance recital.

Got Jersey staties
heading for his house.

Atlantic Highlands,
where is that, exactly?

Jersey Shore,
take the ferry.

There's only one way in and out.

There was no way out for me,

and there's no way out for him.

Where does the ferry leave from?

What are you thinking?

Lester said there was no way out

for his next victim;
he was gonna be trapped

just like Lester was trapped
when he was a kid.

Get on a ferry with a killer,
I'd say you were trapped.

Wait a minute,
shoot a guy on a boat?

That's crazy,
you'd be trapping yourself.

Maybe, or maybe it's perfect.

Silenced round, no one hears,
the wind's too loud anyway.

You toss the rifle overboard,
blend in with the crowd.

The ferry leaves
for Atlantic Highlands from...

East River and 35th Street.

That's pretty close to where
we tracked Collins,

When's the next ferry?


34 minutes.

No luck?

He's not gonna do
it here anyway.

I agree.

All right.

Just stay in sight.


Put your weapon down!

Put it down, Lester!

Nice work, people.

Nice work.

Drinks are on me tonight.

All right, I know this
is gonna sound weird,

but I can't help feeling a
little disappointed.

That he didn't have anything

to say for himself at the end?

Because I'll never know
why he picked me.

Well, you know, Carrie,

the great sociopaths
are also great egotists.

And, like it or not,
you've made a name for yourself.

And they like to go head
to head with the best.

I don't want to sound immodest,

but back in that awful
summer of '77,

David Berkowitz,

son of Sam,

sent me a box
of chocolate truffles.

They were delicious.


am I interrupting?

Well, I don't know,
what do you got?

All right,
this is weird.

I just heard back

from those local cops
in New London.

You know, we asked them to find
Richard Simons, the camp guy?

Guy you talked to in
the hardware store.

Yeah, so, you find him?

Yeah, we found him.

Stuffed into a drainage
culvert off I-95.

ME says he's been dead
for three days.

Three days? That's not possible.

We-We talked to him yesterday.

Yeah? Talk to this guy?

- Nah, that's not Simons.
- Yeah it is.

We got positive ID.

Prints confirmed it.


then who did we talk to?


Nah, I saw Collins
when we brought in his body.

He didn't look anything
like that guy.

Want one more wrinkle?
It's from Simons' autopsy.

Those numbers.

That's a phone number.

Use my phone.

Hello, Carrie.

I've been waiting for your call.

Have to say, it's been
a pleasure working with you.

And I enjoyed meeting
your colleagues,

Costello and Inara.

You all played along
so nicely.

Poor Lester played
his part well, too,

don't you think?

How did you do it?

Actually, I did very little.

Lester was quite up to the task;
I just gave him

a tiny push, and off he went.

Maybe I'll send
another one your way sometime.


Why not?

Why me?

You know why.

Don't let it go to your head.

Be seeing you, Carrie.

Excuse me, counselor,

court's back.