Wicked City (2015): Season 1, Episode 6 - Episode #1.6 - full transcript
Previously on "Wicked City"...
Hi, Karen McClaren.
Tell Jack Roth I said "hi."
We are doing this.
You gonna be mine from now on, baby.
No!
What we do is special. It's unique.
You betrayed me. How do you not see that?
Kent clocks in early every day.
To kills girls in customers' cars,
you'd have to get in early.
I write my R's backwards,
and he never makes me feel bad about it.
Detectives are working off of clues
found at various crime scenes,
and there may be a break in the case.
It's another gorgeous day in Los Angeles.
In the news headlines, there's a big break
in the gruesome Hollywood Slayer murders.
There are a lot of rumors
that the LAPD have a subject of interest.
Also in the headlines, trouble
seems to be brewing at...
We have our suspect, Cooper Flynn,
also known as Kent Grainger.
Got a very bloody piece of fabric
that may tie one of our killer's victims
to his job at Edgeway Car Upholstery.
Getting close.
Any luck running the killer's
name through the DMV database?
No, I didn't come up with anything.
Zilch. Nada. No Kent Grainger.
Well, that's nada-helpful.
Bukowski, the red
Corvette give us anything?
All tech found was a
thing of, uh, Tic Tacs,
and then multiple prints, none
of which are in the system.
No identity on file,
which means no address.
- Okay.
- Oh, we're hoping the owner of the shop has it.
- Yeah, where the hell is he?
- I finally tracked him down.
He was on his way to Big
Bear for a family vacation.
I've got a black-and-white
escorting him here now.
What about the two
knuckleheads who work for him?
T.J. and Dave?
Uh, on their way.
What's with the pimp-daddy shoes, man?
Oh, these are limited
edition, uh, Stacy Adams.
- Our manhunt good-luck charm.
- Exactly.
10 chases, 10 arrests.
All a little before your time, Paco.
Here's hoping we get to the chase.
Well, I just hope you got
a canary-yellow zoot suit
to match, Huggy Bear.
Huggy Bear.
Where's the love?
Huh?
So, how long did Cooper
Flynn work at your auto shop?
I... I don't know him by Cooper Flynn,
only Kent Grainger.
You got an address to go with that name?
You know, I... I got a copy of his I.D.
with his address on it in here somewhere.
Where do you send his checks to?
It's an all-cash business.
An all-cash business
that clearly requires a
trapper keeper organizer.
Got it. Thank you.
Well, Kent attracted a lot
of women like bees to honey.
Yeah, I mean, more like moths to flame.
Not his fault. Chicks dig him.
I just figured it was the bike.
He drove a motorcycle?
Yes, a Bonnie. '76. Blue. Beaut.
- Nice.
- Yeah.
Did our guys bring the
trash from the garage?
It's right there.
Hey, when was the last time
your trash was picked up?
Week or so ago. I don't know.
God, that smells like my second ex wife's
pumpernickel bread bowl.
- You guys, pick out your trash.
- What?
Pick out what you
personally threw out, please.
Who do those Hobie's
ice-cream wrappers belong to?
Kent. Had one most every day.
- Hobie's ice creams. Write that down.
- Found it...
the xerox of Kent's I.D.
Got a photo.
Let me see. Let me see.
Ugh, it's blurry. It's no
better than the composite.
- Yeah, but there's an address.
- Yeah.
Mary, did you finish your breakfast yet?
_
Mary?
Sweetie, that's a grown-up magazine.
Wouldn't want it to give you nightmares.
- Mommy, why...
- Mm?
Why doesn't Kent go to
neighborhood block parties
or invite anybody over to his house but us?
Well, maybe 'cause we're just special.
Now wish me luck on my new job.
- I love you.
- Love you, too.
Okay. Oh, and if there's an emergency...
- Call Kent...
- Call Kent.
- Okay, bye.
- Bye.
_
Oh, I picked the wrong
time to go on a diet.
What do you got?
Well, checked with the DMV.
The killer hasn't registered the
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
Nothing? Of course.
And, uh, no surprise, the
Addy on his I.D. was bogus.
Fake address to go with the fake name.
Blurry, but the I.D. looks legit.
Figure out where the guy procured it.
Yeah, Miller and Bukowski
are digging up forgers
the killer could've used.
In the meantime, we're gonna
get the fake name out there.
If he went by "Kent" at work,
maybe other people know him.
What the hell?
What are you wearing?
Clothes.
Clown clothes.
It's not Halloween, so
that can't be a costume.
Yeah, well, I kind of have to wear it.
Did you lose a bet or something?
No, I kind of have a standing
Tuesday golf game with my dad.
You have a dad?
Yeah.
A dad who makes you wear that stupid getup?
No, not him, but his country club.
What?
- I... I said that...
- I heard what you said...
golf, dad,
country club.
Are you rich?
Uh...
You're such a freaking poser.
- What are you...
- All your ranting
about being punk, being real...
Yeah, I am. I am both those things.
No.
You're a Trustafarian pretending
to be down with the people
when all you are is a rich kid.
That's not very nice.
We're asking for the public's help
in finding our suspect of interest
in the Hollywood Slayer killings.
Uh, his name is Cooper Flynn,
but he goes by the alias "Kent Grainger."
He's in his 20s, Caucasian,
brown hair, 5'9".
He drives a baby-blue 1976
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
If you see him, don't be a hero.
Call our tip hotline.
You could be saving the
life of another girl.
Thanks.
Betty.
Kent!
Are you okay? You're
all over the television.
Which is why I don't have much time, okay?
Okay, just...
- come with me.
- All right.
No one will see us here.
I want you to know
I Took care of our problem.
Jimmy?
That was my mistake. I'm so sorry.
Doesn't matter. It's...
it's taken care of.
Thank you.
I know how mad you were.
Doesn't matter anymore.
So you forgive me.
We can be together.
I forgive you, but...
I'm meant to be a lone wolf.
With Jack Roth dogging my every move...
These violent delights...
have violent ends.
"Romeo and Juliet."
Please don't break up with me.
Kent...
this is what I want.
It can't be.
It can't be.
Then let me say goodbye...
Our way.
So, this is really a first edition
of Achebe's "Things Fall Apart"?
I thought it was just a copy or something.
He's a family friend.
What are you doing?
Why are you so upset about this?
I'm not upset. I'm just... I'm confused
why Mr. Lay It All Out There would
be hiding something so big from me.
Yeah, it is a big part of me.
So why were you keeping it from me?
Is L.A. Notorious just
your bourgeois rebellion?
No.
L.A. Notorious is me.
It's my soul.
Where I came from...
that part of me
is why I believe that...
Look, my... my pops loved my mom
every single day she was alive.
Treated her like a princess.
But those Beverly Hills
bitches never let her forget
she was black or where she came from.
Okay, now...
I just never want people to forget
the people that didn't
have a man like my dad
to tell them that they
matter, 'cause they do.
Black or white, rich or poor, they matter.
- Well, it's not really punk.
- Mm.
But it's kind of amazing.
- Oh, my god. Really?
- You don't have a butler?
This is Diver.
Yeah, she's here.
Really?
- The search is continuing...
- It's the big leagues.
KABC wants to come do an
interview here about the Slayer.
If you know this person or
have any information as to...
Mary, you scared me.
Do you think a good person
could do something bad?
Is this about Billy from
down the street again?
Yeah, he got some ice cream
from Hobie's the other day,
and when he went to pay,
he realized he... he didn't have the money,
so he walked out.
You should tell him to come
clean, go back and pay them.
Since... since he didn't get caught,
he thinks he doesn't have to.
It's like I always say, you
got to tell the truth, Mary.
Even if that means Billy
gets into a lot of trouble?
Well, maybe getting in
trouble will make him stop.
I have to go.
Where's your motorcycle, Kent?
You know what? It was such a
beautiful day, I thought I'd walk.
See ya.
Hello, police?
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
LAPD hotline.
LAPD hotline.
Uh, can I get that address
again one more time?
LAPD hotline.
Right? Okay.
Extra manpower from Rampart any help?
Hasn't even made a dent. We're
getting 100 calls a minute.
Get anything from the new batch of calls?
Well, there was a little girl
that says that the killer's her babysitter,
but, I mean, what kind of parent
would let this sociopath watch their kid?
What do you mean? The charismatic sociopath
whose coworkers want to
elect as the next mayor?
Sure, I had that thought, too, Jack,
but I ran down the address
she gave. It doesn't exist.
Okay, just let me know
of any new developments.
Need some help with that
trash there, "Sanford and Son"?
Sociopaths are defined by their habits.
My guess is ours drives
to the same Hobie's.
We, uh, got our wall of shame ready for ya.
Okay, great.
Let's see.
These two... recently paroled.
Ran a fake-I.D. and
check-cashing scheme at the forum.
That's too high-profile.
These lovelies... part
of the Deuce forgery crew.
They sell fake IDs out of MacArthur Park.
It's in our guy's best interest
to do business with someone
who's never been to jail.
Well, Hollen-Beck's got their eyes
on seven forgers in East L.A...
all virgins waiting to
get their cherries popped.
Okay, well, let's be their first.
We'll split up the list.
We'll hit them all quietly.
They can't see us coming.
These cockroaches spook easy.
Pain management to O.R. three.
- Pain management to O.R. three.
- Hi.
Thanks for covering for me, Jane.
Oh, I don't mind.
Plus, Felecia here wanted me to give her my
Cheryl Tiegs makeover to kick cancer's ass.
Looking good.
You must be freaking out.
Your boyfriend and the
Slayer have the same name...
Kent?
Oh, seriously?
That is, uh, a crazy coincidence.
You haven't seen the news?
No, I've been on the phone
with a mechanic about my car.
It broke down. Did I tell you?
- No.
- Yeah.
- I'll get this in a minute.
- Thank you.
So, is it just the car
that you're upset about?
Jane.
Thank you.
It's relationship trouble.
I think Kent's breaking up with me.
He loves me, but somehow it's not enough.
We're so good together.
It's just...
Other people meddling with our business.
It doesn't work.
Been there, done that with my ex Carl.
That nosy mother of his was a psycho.
Kent just has to tell
any busybodies in his life
to bug off.
I wish it were that simple.
You love him, right?
I would die for him.
So it's simple.
Tell them to back off or else.
Hi, Colette. It's Betty Beaumontaine.
Yeah, it's been a while.
Listen, I'm running point
for our hospital's charity ball this year,
and I'm working the list for
the fire department and LAPD.
Just want to make sure that the lists
with the addresses are all updated.
Perfect.
I'll come by and pick them up.
Thank you.
You, too.
You look gorgeous.
Are you here with anyone?
Can I buy you a drink?
Stay tuned, as we're about an hour away
from my live interview with Karen McClaren,
the L.A. Notorious reporter who
survived a midnight encounter
with the murderous Hollywood
Slayer just last night.
Ooh.
Well, hopefully blondes
really do have more fun.
Second unit.
Yeah, copy.
Another one bites the dust.
Fourth dead end.
Yeah, Miller and Bukowski
aren't having any luck, either.
Well, uh, we got one
more potential suspect.
Name's Bobby Jones,
but he goes by the
street name of Aunt Bobby.
Aunt Bobby? I don't get it.
Neither do I.
How long has it been?
Two years.
Right. Called yourself Travis then.
And you had perky "D" -cups.
Listen, when Diana Ross
sang "I'm coming out,"
I figured, "why stay
in the shell of a body?"
- Say hello to a-men.
- You mean a-woman.
Yes!
Hope you don't mind a
little Earth, Wind & Fire.
My TV's been on the fritz today.
I like a little fire now and again.
I bet you do.
* it's all right *
* all right *
* let this groove set in your shoes *
So, what are you thinking?
* So stand up, all right *
Thinking of going
Americana this time around.
Mm-hmm.
So, when did you say your
TV went on the fritz again?
Oh, a week or so. So, what's the name?
I thought you said today.
Damn hormones got my
memory on the fritz again.
* All right *
* just move yourself *
* and glide like a 747 *
* and lose yourself in the sky *
I'm really sorry, Bobby.
- You don't have to do this.
- Yeah, I do.
The police are gonna find
you, throw the book at you,
you're gonna tell them
my new name, my new look,
- and I can't let that happen.
- * Let this groove set in your shoes *
* so stand up *
* all right *
* All right *
* let this groove *
Looks like Aunt Bobby had a visitor.
Hello? Police.
I'll head around back in
case they make a break for it.
Coming in.
Anybody here?
There's nothing out back.
I've never been so happy to
be in the closet in my life.
Thank god y'all came. I had to tinkle.
- Uh, sir, we're gonna have to...
- Ma'am.
Mademoiselle. Too young to be a ma'am.
Okay, M... Miss, the
man who did this to you,
you know him by Kent Grainger?
Little punk.
Half my size, but strong.
W... why do you think he didn't kill you?
Honey, don't wish death on me.
Maybe it's because he has manners
and he's fond of all this.
It's okay to look, baby.
I'm the Commodores' inspiration
for "Brick House." Ooh.
Uh, yeah, d... do you have
an address for Kent Grainger?
I don't know where he lives
or anything else about him
other than the fact that
I give him a new name every
time he needs a new identity.
What new identity would that be?
I don't know. We didn't get to that.
Blondie got antsy,
put a knife to me,
hog-tied me, and cleaned
out my entire passport stash.
Blondie?
His hair... frosted... very
Farrah Fawcett without the feather.
If he's got a new passport and a new look,
- he could be trying to skip town.
- We could have a border-jumper.
We need to alert the
airports, train stations,
and bus terminals of his new look
until we can get people there.
Thank you.
This is Scott Wright.
I'm calling to confirm my flight
to Sydney leaves in 45 minutes.
All right.
You take care now.
Just the young lady I wanted to see.
So,
did you take my advice after our
little philosophical chat earlier?
Yeah, I told the truth.
I didn't doubt you for a minute.
And here's your reward.
I know it's you.
You're the Hollywood Slayer.
Well, I guess now it's my
turn to pay for what I've done.
Did you call the cops?
You did the right thing.
I don't want you to ever feel bad,
'cause it means you're a great kid.
And you're gonna grow up
to be an incredible adult.
I love you, too.
Now get home.
In his 20s, 5'9", brown hair.
He drives a baby-blue 1976
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
If you see him, don't be a hero.
Call our tip hotline.
You could be saving the
life of another gir...
- Who is it?
- Luxe Calling.
Hi. I'm Nancy.
I work with the most glamorous
makeup company in the world,
and I'm here to change your life.
My secret...
mix a bit of eye shadow
in with your foundation...
- Huh.
- To highlight the apples of your cheeks,
the contours of your eyes,
and the slope of your neckline.
Really?
I never heard of that.
Some women mix primer
in with their foundation,
but I think that makes them
look like the living dead.
Well, I guess it's better
than being dead-dead.
But still, I prefer to look alive.
Well, I can help you out with that.
Ah, you kind of already
are just by being here.
Really?
Hmm.
You having a bad day?
No. No. No, no.
Um, I have nothing to complain about.
I... I'm lucky. I know that.
It's just that sometimes...
Do you ever feel like your
life just isn't your own?
Don't we all?
With so much on our plates,
it's hard for us ladies to
keep any focus on ourselves.
Now...
you just sit back and relax.
Yes, ma'am.
Ah.
Do I even want to know what happened?
Yeah, we got a bad tip that
our killer was at L.A.X.
We get there, this guy
turned into O.J. Simpson...
starts jumping over baggage,
pushing people out of the way
until he nudges the wrong person.
Hey, you know, what kind of elderly woman
strikes a cop with a cane?
You know, I should've
arrested her for assault.
Hey, uh, anyway, we got,
uh... we got patrols at L.A.X.
and Burbank airports, Union Station,
every Greyhound station in
the city with the new sketch.
Miller and Bukowski are running point.
New tips.
Okay, uh, you start calling
these Hobie's locations.
What? Are you craving
a banana bazooka split?
Guy goes into the same ice-cream
shop three or four times a week.
Somebody might know him.
Maybe even where he lives.
I'm here with reporter Karen McClaren.
So, how did you feel when he contacted you?
- L.A. Notorious.
- I knew it was a huge opportunity.
No, she's busy.
What?
Look, Joe, I'm not... I'm...
Yeah.
Hold on a minute.
So you weren't scared?
In his presence? Alone?
Of course I was.
It was terrifying, but I
knew that I had a job to do,
and that was to elicit any
information I could from him.
Uh, we're, uh, in the
middle of an interview here.
It's him.
Did you forget about me already?
I love what you've done
with the hair, Kiki.
Beautiful.
Do you want to tell people
who you are, or should I?
Be my guest.
We're on with Kent Grainger,
also known as the Hollywood Slayer.
Is it really him?
- Mr. Grainger...
- Ah, ah, ah.
On this call, we play by my rules,
which means you just sit
there and look pretty.
I don't like the monster you've
been depicting me as, Penelope.
I wasn't trying to insult
you. I... I... I just...
Shh, Penelope, this is about Karen.
So, here's your chance
to enlighten the world.
Isn't that your job?
To expose me as who you think I am?
My purpose is to simply be.
The police are closing in.
Are you going to give yourself up?
And where would the fun in that be?
Whatever way it shakes
down, you're too late.
Big stories need big endings.
Big climax. The explosion.
Far more cinematic, don't you think?
You heard it here first, Los Angeles...
Karen McClaren's chilling conversation
with the Hollywood Slayer.
He's calling into a live
interview on a local station...
means he's still in the city.
We've got the air, the rails,
and the highways on lock.
Which means he's trapped.
Hey.
What are you doing?
Listening to your interview, Kiki.
I've got a silly nickname.
So what?
No, it's all good. I'm just...
Glad to know I'm not the
only one with secrets.
Why are you listening to it again?
There was a melody
playing in the background
when you were chatting with Mr.
Thrill Kill that I just couldn't shake.
So I isolated it, and I've been
listening to it again. Here.
You recognize that?
No.
"Suicide Solution."
Is that a song?
Really?
It was Ozzy Osbourne.
That's one of the purest tunes
about the fragmented human psyche.
An... anyways, he said
that you were too late when he called.
Too late for what?
I think he's gonna kill himself.
Really?
It seems so unlike him.
He's arrogant, like...
like he can never lose.
Yeah, but maybe he's not losing.
I mean, maybe he's going
out on his own terms.
* Wine is fine, but whiskey's quicker *
* suicide is slow with liquor *
* take a bottle, drown your sorrows *
* then it floods away tomorrows *
* Take me away *
* Oh, oh *
* tomorrow *
* you never give me rest *
* no first, no first, no first, no day *
Hmm.
Oh.
Oh, wow.
You are far too young
to have a 15-year-old.
Oh, I only look this young
because of your magic.
No, no. Wow. She's beautiful.
And suddenly so grown up.
So far, she doesn't hate me, thank god,
but I have a feeling that's coming.
No, no. You're lucky.
I was a horrible teenager.
Always causing trouble.
Oh, and I was such a goody-goody.
I was boring, really.
Do you have kids?
I do, yeah. I have a boy, 5.
- And my daughter is 8.
- Oh.
She wants to be a scientist.
Yeah, mine wants to be a rock star.
She sings in this band,
has dreams of being
discovered on the Strip.
Wow.
Well, lots of girls have dreams
- of being discovered on the Strip.
- I know.
I... it's a teenage fantasy, nothing more.
But her father would, uh, make a big deal
out of saying no if he knew,
making her want it even more, so...
We've kept that our little secret.
Is he not around?
Are you a single mom, too?
I'm married, but I often
feel like I'm a single mom.
My husband works a lot.
Hmm. That must be hard.
Kind of used to it.
When it's just me and
Vicki, you know, it's easy.
Pop two lean cuisines in
the oven and call it a day.
But when Jack is here...
It's a lot of work.
Let me guess...
dirty laundry all over the floor.
Dishes in the sink. Are
all... is this all men?
I'm sure most.
My boyfriend actually always
cleans up after himself, but
he has other things. He's...
so stubborn and
- obsessive.
- Oh, I get obsessive.
My husband is the poster child for it.
Jack is a detective, and
he Gets very caught up in his cases.
My boyfriend is not even
sure we can be together
because of what he does.
No, I... I get it. Their
work is so important to them.
And with Jack, it's personal.
Really? How so?
He lost his mother when he was young.
Hmm.
And now it's like he has to save people
to make up for his own loss.
I'm just not sure anything
will ever fill that void.
Mm-hmm.
Oh...
And you came here to
try to sell color sticks.
I'm sorry. Way too much information.
No, not at all.
I'm parched.
Could I trouble you for a glass of water?
Oh, my god. I can't believe
how inhospitable I've been.
Yes, of course. I'll be right back.
Oh.
Make sure you call me
if any of your employees
recognize him as one
of your regulars, okay?
All right.
You know, I don't know
how many more of these tips
I can listen to, Jack.
I mean, these people
are complete whack jobs,
and the other half are obnoxious kids
- who are calling to make prank calls.
- Are most of the kids boys?
Of course, and they all think
a serial killer is hilarious.
Any of them give an address?
Well, sure, if the
address has "Uranus" in it.
There was that one little girl.
Yeah, there's been a few girls.
The tape of... of... of the
girl with the killer sitter.
Cue that up again.
Yeah, what are you thinking?
I don't know.
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
He's my babysitter.
I live at 2003 Dover Road.
That's what I'm saying.
I already ran that down.
The address doesn't exist.
There's no 2003 Dover Road.
- Play it again.
- All right.
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
He's my babysitter.
I live at 2003 Dover Road.
2003.
The envelope that was sent to Karen...
the killer used a kid to write the address.
This little girl...
maybe it's her handwriting.
What if she's dyslexic?
She gets her letters backwards,
maybe her numbers, too,
like her address. Try, um...
try 2300.
Uh, negative.
What about, uh, 2030?
Bingo.
This has got to be it.
There's a Hobie's ice cream
right nearby. Let's go.
Well, it's so nice to have
girlfriend time for a change.
Nancy, until you came by today,
I forgot how much I missed it.
Need it.
Life-affirming, almost.
For me, too.
You know, this was a perfect afternoon.
Good luck with Vicki, and...
I have a feeling we'll
see each other again.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Police. Open up.
Hi, young lady. Are y... are you Mary?
He's not a bad person.
Hey.
Listen, you did the
right thing by calling us.
Can you tell us where he lives?
Mary?
What's going on?
Ma'am, I need you to keep her inside.
Keep the doors locked.
Stay away from the windows, okay?
- Okay.
- Thank you, ma'am.
Yeah, he's going
door-to-door right now.
Sift through it.
Guys, he wants...
Fire department says your guy here
drenched himself in an accelerant
and set himself on fire.
Based on the heat damage,
he must have spread it
around the house, too.
So, suicide, huh?
Yeah. Nasty way to die,
but given the grace he showed
his victims, it's well-deserved.
How long until you have
confirmation it's him?
- Uh, a few days.
- Call as soon as you know something.
Could you move it along, please, ma'am?
We're trying to keep the street clear.
Hey, the, uh, search dogs pick up anything?
No, they had his scent
up until the backyard,
but then they lost it,
so looks like our guy
never escaped the fire.
We found his motorcycle in
the garage, all burned up,
but there was no evidence
of any of our victims,
- charred or otherwise.
- Ah, that could just mean his kill lair
was somewhere else, right?
I talked to Kent's neighbors.
They said he kept to himself.
Yeah, well, with the exception
of Mary and her mother.
I talked to the social worker.
She says the mother and
daughter are still in shock.
- Sure.
- The sad gist of what I could gather
from Mary is that Kent
was a great babysitter.
Well, I guess even horrible
people do good things sometimes.
I guess we're 11 for 11.
Those shoes are still ugly, Bukowski.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
In an unexpected yet exciting turn,
the Hollywood Slayer has eluded justice
and has taken his own life.
* I gave you my heart and I gave you my soul *
* and now you gone and left me cold *
* I'm merely asking for you to come on down *
You know I hate to see you cry.
They said you were dead.
You know I could never do that to you.
To us.
I have so much to live for because of you.
I saw the body.
Your little mistake came in handy.
Jimmy.
Better together than apart.
Yeah.
That was "Fally Lover" by Johnny Osbourne.
And in the news, Angelenos
can rest easy tonight
as the Hollywood Slayer's murderous summer
comes to an end.
Hi, Karen McClaren.
Tell Jack Roth I said "hi."
We are doing this.
You gonna be mine from now on, baby.
No!
What we do is special. It's unique.
You betrayed me. How do you not see that?
Kent clocks in early every day.
To kills girls in customers' cars,
you'd have to get in early.
I write my R's backwards,
and he never makes me feel bad about it.
Detectives are working off of clues
found at various crime scenes,
and there may be a break in the case.
It's another gorgeous day in Los Angeles.
In the news headlines, there's a big break
in the gruesome Hollywood Slayer murders.
There are a lot of rumors
that the LAPD have a subject of interest.
Also in the headlines, trouble
seems to be brewing at...
We have our suspect, Cooper Flynn,
also known as Kent Grainger.
Got a very bloody piece of fabric
that may tie one of our killer's victims
to his job at Edgeway Car Upholstery.
Getting close.
Any luck running the killer's
name through the DMV database?
No, I didn't come up with anything.
Zilch. Nada. No Kent Grainger.
Well, that's nada-helpful.
Bukowski, the red
Corvette give us anything?
All tech found was a
thing of, uh, Tic Tacs,
and then multiple prints, none
of which are in the system.
No identity on file,
which means no address.
- Okay.
- Oh, we're hoping the owner of the shop has it.
- Yeah, where the hell is he?
- I finally tracked him down.
He was on his way to Big
Bear for a family vacation.
I've got a black-and-white
escorting him here now.
What about the two
knuckleheads who work for him?
T.J. and Dave?
Uh, on their way.
What's with the pimp-daddy shoes, man?
Oh, these are limited
edition, uh, Stacy Adams.
- Our manhunt good-luck charm.
- Exactly.
10 chases, 10 arrests.
All a little before your time, Paco.
Here's hoping we get to the chase.
Well, I just hope you got
a canary-yellow zoot suit
to match, Huggy Bear.
Huggy Bear.
Where's the love?
Huh?
So, how long did Cooper
Flynn work at your auto shop?
I... I don't know him by Cooper Flynn,
only Kent Grainger.
You got an address to go with that name?
You know, I... I got a copy of his I.D.
with his address on it in here somewhere.
Where do you send his checks to?
It's an all-cash business.
An all-cash business
that clearly requires a
trapper keeper organizer.
Got it. Thank you.
Well, Kent attracted a lot
of women like bees to honey.
Yeah, I mean, more like moths to flame.
Not his fault. Chicks dig him.
I just figured it was the bike.
He drove a motorcycle?
Yes, a Bonnie. '76. Blue. Beaut.
- Nice.
- Yeah.
Did our guys bring the
trash from the garage?
It's right there.
Hey, when was the last time
your trash was picked up?
Week or so ago. I don't know.
God, that smells like my second ex wife's
pumpernickel bread bowl.
- You guys, pick out your trash.
- What?
Pick out what you
personally threw out, please.
Who do those Hobie's
ice-cream wrappers belong to?
Kent. Had one most every day.
- Hobie's ice creams. Write that down.
- Found it...
the xerox of Kent's I.D.
Got a photo.
Let me see. Let me see.
Ugh, it's blurry. It's no
better than the composite.
- Yeah, but there's an address.
- Yeah.
Mary, did you finish your breakfast yet?
_
Mary?
Sweetie, that's a grown-up magazine.
Wouldn't want it to give you nightmares.
- Mommy, why...
- Mm?
Why doesn't Kent go to
neighborhood block parties
or invite anybody over to his house but us?
Well, maybe 'cause we're just special.
Now wish me luck on my new job.
- I love you.
- Love you, too.
Okay. Oh, and if there's an emergency...
- Call Kent...
- Call Kent.
- Okay, bye.
- Bye.
_
Oh, I picked the wrong
time to go on a diet.
What do you got?
Well, checked with the DMV.
The killer hasn't registered the
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
Nothing? Of course.
And, uh, no surprise, the
Addy on his I.D. was bogus.
Fake address to go with the fake name.
Blurry, but the I.D. looks legit.
Figure out where the guy procured it.
Yeah, Miller and Bukowski
are digging up forgers
the killer could've used.
In the meantime, we're gonna
get the fake name out there.
If he went by "Kent" at work,
maybe other people know him.
What the hell?
What are you wearing?
Clothes.
Clown clothes.
It's not Halloween, so
that can't be a costume.
Yeah, well, I kind of have to wear it.
Did you lose a bet or something?
No, I kind of have a standing
Tuesday golf game with my dad.
You have a dad?
Yeah.
A dad who makes you wear that stupid getup?
No, not him, but his country club.
What?
- I... I said that...
- I heard what you said...
golf, dad,
country club.
Are you rich?
Uh...
You're such a freaking poser.
- What are you...
- All your ranting
about being punk, being real...
Yeah, I am. I am both those things.
No.
You're a Trustafarian pretending
to be down with the people
when all you are is a rich kid.
That's not very nice.
We're asking for the public's help
in finding our suspect of interest
in the Hollywood Slayer killings.
Uh, his name is Cooper Flynn,
but he goes by the alias "Kent Grainger."
He's in his 20s, Caucasian,
brown hair, 5'9".
He drives a baby-blue 1976
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
If you see him, don't be a hero.
Call our tip hotline.
You could be saving the
life of another girl.
Thanks.
Betty.
Kent!
Are you okay? You're
all over the television.
Which is why I don't have much time, okay?
Okay, just...
- come with me.
- All right.
No one will see us here.
I want you to know
I Took care of our problem.
Jimmy?
That was my mistake. I'm so sorry.
Doesn't matter. It's...
it's taken care of.
Thank you.
I know how mad you were.
Doesn't matter anymore.
So you forgive me.
We can be together.
I forgive you, but...
I'm meant to be a lone wolf.
With Jack Roth dogging my every move...
These violent delights...
have violent ends.
"Romeo and Juliet."
Please don't break up with me.
Kent...
this is what I want.
It can't be.
It can't be.
Then let me say goodbye...
Our way.
So, this is really a first edition
of Achebe's "Things Fall Apart"?
I thought it was just a copy or something.
He's a family friend.
What are you doing?
Why are you so upset about this?
I'm not upset. I'm just... I'm confused
why Mr. Lay It All Out There would
be hiding something so big from me.
Yeah, it is a big part of me.
So why were you keeping it from me?
Is L.A. Notorious just
your bourgeois rebellion?
No.
L.A. Notorious is me.
It's my soul.
Where I came from...
that part of me
is why I believe that...
Look, my... my pops loved my mom
every single day she was alive.
Treated her like a princess.
But those Beverly Hills
bitches never let her forget
she was black or where she came from.
Okay, now...
I just never want people to forget
the people that didn't
have a man like my dad
to tell them that they
matter, 'cause they do.
Black or white, rich or poor, they matter.
- Well, it's not really punk.
- Mm.
But it's kind of amazing.
- Oh, my god. Really?
- You don't have a butler?
This is Diver.
Yeah, she's here.
Really?
- The search is continuing...
- It's the big leagues.
KABC wants to come do an
interview here about the Slayer.
If you know this person or
have any information as to...
Mary, you scared me.
Do you think a good person
could do something bad?
Is this about Billy from
down the street again?
Yeah, he got some ice cream
from Hobie's the other day,
and when he went to pay,
he realized he... he didn't have the money,
so he walked out.
You should tell him to come
clean, go back and pay them.
Since... since he didn't get caught,
he thinks he doesn't have to.
It's like I always say, you
got to tell the truth, Mary.
Even if that means Billy
gets into a lot of trouble?
Well, maybe getting in
trouble will make him stop.
I have to go.
Where's your motorcycle, Kent?
You know what? It was such a
beautiful day, I thought I'd walk.
See ya.
Hello, police?
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
LAPD hotline.
LAPD hotline.
Uh, can I get that address
again one more time?
LAPD hotline.
Right? Okay.
Extra manpower from Rampart any help?
Hasn't even made a dent. We're
getting 100 calls a minute.
Get anything from the new batch of calls?
Well, there was a little girl
that says that the killer's her babysitter,
but, I mean, what kind of parent
would let this sociopath watch their kid?
What do you mean? The charismatic sociopath
whose coworkers want to
elect as the next mayor?
Sure, I had that thought, too, Jack,
but I ran down the address
she gave. It doesn't exist.
Okay, just let me know
of any new developments.
Need some help with that
trash there, "Sanford and Son"?
Sociopaths are defined by their habits.
My guess is ours drives
to the same Hobie's.
We, uh, got our wall of shame ready for ya.
Okay, great.
Let's see.
These two... recently paroled.
Ran a fake-I.D. and
check-cashing scheme at the forum.
That's too high-profile.
These lovelies... part
of the Deuce forgery crew.
They sell fake IDs out of MacArthur Park.
It's in our guy's best interest
to do business with someone
who's never been to jail.
Well, Hollen-Beck's got their eyes
on seven forgers in East L.A...
all virgins waiting to
get their cherries popped.
Okay, well, let's be their first.
We'll split up the list.
We'll hit them all quietly.
They can't see us coming.
These cockroaches spook easy.
Pain management to O.R. three.
- Pain management to O.R. three.
- Hi.
Thanks for covering for me, Jane.
Oh, I don't mind.
Plus, Felecia here wanted me to give her my
Cheryl Tiegs makeover to kick cancer's ass.
Looking good.
You must be freaking out.
Your boyfriend and the
Slayer have the same name...
Kent?
Oh, seriously?
That is, uh, a crazy coincidence.
You haven't seen the news?
No, I've been on the phone
with a mechanic about my car.
It broke down. Did I tell you?
- No.
- Yeah.
- I'll get this in a minute.
- Thank you.
So, is it just the car
that you're upset about?
Jane.
Thank you.
It's relationship trouble.
I think Kent's breaking up with me.
He loves me, but somehow it's not enough.
We're so good together.
It's just...
Other people meddling with our business.
It doesn't work.
Been there, done that with my ex Carl.
That nosy mother of his was a psycho.
Kent just has to tell
any busybodies in his life
to bug off.
I wish it were that simple.
You love him, right?
I would die for him.
So it's simple.
Tell them to back off or else.
Hi, Colette. It's Betty Beaumontaine.
Yeah, it's been a while.
Listen, I'm running point
for our hospital's charity ball this year,
and I'm working the list for
the fire department and LAPD.
Just want to make sure that the lists
with the addresses are all updated.
Perfect.
I'll come by and pick them up.
Thank you.
You, too.
You look gorgeous.
Are you here with anyone?
Can I buy you a drink?
Stay tuned, as we're about an hour away
from my live interview with Karen McClaren,
the L.A. Notorious reporter who
survived a midnight encounter
with the murderous Hollywood
Slayer just last night.
Ooh.
Well, hopefully blondes
really do have more fun.
Second unit.
Yeah, copy.
Another one bites the dust.
Fourth dead end.
Yeah, Miller and Bukowski
aren't having any luck, either.
Well, uh, we got one
more potential suspect.
Name's Bobby Jones,
but he goes by the
street name of Aunt Bobby.
Aunt Bobby? I don't get it.
Neither do I.
How long has it been?
Two years.
Right. Called yourself Travis then.
And you had perky "D" -cups.
Listen, when Diana Ross
sang "I'm coming out,"
I figured, "why stay
in the shell of a body?"
- Say hello to a-men.
- You mean a-woman.
Yes!
Hope you don't mind a
little Earth, Wind & Fire.
My TV's been on the fritz today.
I like a little fire now and again.
I bet you do.
* it's all right *
* all right *
* let this groove set in your shoes *
So, what are you thinking?
* So stand up, all right *
Thinking of going
Americana this time around.
Mm-hmm.
So, when did you say your
TV went on the fritz again?
Oh, a week or so. So, what's the name?
I thought you said today.
Damn hormones got my
memory on the fritz again.
* All right *
* just move yourself *
* and glide like a 747 *
* and lose yourself in the sky *
I'm really sorry, Bobby.
- You don't have to do this.
- Yeah, I do.
The police are gonna find
you, throw the book at you,
you're gonna tell them
my new name, my new look,
- and I can't let that happen.
- * Let this groove set in your shoes *
* so stand up *
* all right *
* All right *
* let this groove *
Looks like Aunt Bobby had a visitor.
Hello? Police.
I'll head around back in
case they make a break for it.
Coming in.
Anybody here?
There's nothing out back.
I've never been so happy to
be in the closet in my life.
Thank god y'all came. I had to tinkle.
- Uh, sir, we're gonna have to...
- Ma'am.
Mademoiselle. Too young to be a ma'am.
Okay, M... Miss, the
man who did this to you,
you know him by Kent Grainger?
Little punk.
Half my size, but strong.
W... why do you think he didn't kill you?
Honey, don't wish death on me.
Maybe it's because he has manners
and he's fond of all this.
It's okay to look, baby.
I'm the Commodores' inspiration
for "Brick House." Ooh.
Uh, yeah, d... do you have
an address for Kent Grainger?
I don't know where he lives
or anything else about him
other than the fact that
I give him a new name every
time he needs a new identity.
What new identity would that be?
I don't know. We didn't get to that.
Blondie got antsy,
put a knife to me,
hog-tied me, and cleaned
out my entire passport stash.
Blondie?
His hair... frosted... very
Farrah Fawcett without the feather.
If he's got a new passport and a new look,
- he could be trying to skip town.
- We could have a border-jumper.
We need to alert the
airports, train stations,
and bus terminals of his new look
until we can get people there.
Thank you.
This is Scott Wright.
I'm calling to confirm my flight
to Sydney leaves in 45 minutes.
All right.
You take care now.
Just the young lady I wanted to see.
So,
did you take my advice after our
little philosophical chat earlier?
Yeah, I told the truth.
I didn't doubt you for a minute.
And here's your reward.
I know it's you.
You're the Hollywood Slayer.
Well, I guess now it's my
turn to pay for what I've done.
Did you call the cops?
You did the right thing.
I don't want you to ever feel bad,
'cause it means you're a great kid.
And you're gonna grow up
to be an incredible adult.
I love you, too.
Now get home.
In his 20s, 5'9", brown hair.
He drives a baby-blue 1976
Triumph Bonneville motorcycle.
If you see him, don't be a hero.
Call our tip hotline.
You could be saving the
life of another gir...
- Who is it?
- Luxe Calling.
Hi. I'm Nancy.
I work with the most glamorous
makeup company in the world,
and I'm here to change your life.
My secret...
mix a bit of eye shadow
in with your foundation...
- Huh.
- To highlight the apples of your cheeks,
the contours of your eyes,
and the slope of your neckline.
Really?
I never heard of that.
Some women mix primer
in with their foundation,
but I think that makes them
look like the living dead.
Well, I guess it's better
than being dead-dead.
But still, I prefer to look alive.
Well, I can help you out with that.
Ah, you kind of already
are just by being here.
Really?
Hmm.
You having a bad day?
No. No. No, no.
Um, I have nothing to complain about.
I... I'm lucky. I know that.
It's just that sometimes...
Do you ever feel like your
life just isn't your own?
Don't we all?
With so much on our plates,
it's hard for us ladies to
keep any focus on ourselves.
Now...
you just sit back and relax.
Yes, ma'am.
Ah.
Do I even want to know what happened?
Yeah, we got a bad tip that
our killer was at L.A.X.
We get there, this guy
turned into O.J. Simpson...
starts jumping over baggage,
pushing people out of the way
until he nudges the wrong person.
Hey, you know, what kind of elderly woman
strikes a cop with a cane?
You know, I should've
arrested her for assault.
Hey, uh, anyway, we got,
uh... we got patrols at L.A.X.
and Burbank airports, Union Station,
every Greyhound station in
the city with the new sketch.
Miller and Bukowski are running point.
New tips.
Okay, uh, you start calling
these Hobie's locations.
What? Are you craving
a banana bazooka split?
Guy goes into the same ice-cream
shop three or four times a week.
Somebody might know him.
Maybe even where he lives.
I'm here with reporter Karen McClaren.
So, how did you feel when he contacted you?
- L.A. Notorious.
- I knew it was a huge opportunity.
No, she's busy.
What?
Look, Joe, I'm not... I'm...
Yeah.
Hold on a minute.
So you weren't scared?
In his presence? Alone?
Of course I was.
It was terrifying, but I
knew that I had a job to do,
and that was to elicit any
information I could from him.
Uh, we're, uh, in the
middle of an interview here.
It's him.
Did you forget about me already?
I love what you've done
with the hair, Kiki.
Beautiful.
Do you want to tell people
who you are, or should I?
Be my guest.
We're on with Kent Grainger,
also known as the Hollywood Slayer.
Is it really him?
- Mr. Grainger...
- Ah, ah, ah.
On this call, we play by my rules,
which means you just sit
there and look pretty.
I don't like the monster you've
been depicting me as, Penelope.
I wasn't trying to insult
you. I... I... I just...
Shh, Penelope, this is about Karen.
So, here's your chance
to enlighten the world.
Isn't that your job?
To expose me as who you think I am?
My purpose is to simply be.
The police are closing in.
Are you going to give yourself up?
And where would the fun in that be?
Whatever way it shakes
down, you're too late.
Big stories need big endings.
Big climax. The explosion.
Far more cinematic, don't you think?
You heard it here first, Los Angeles...
Karen McClaren's chilling conversation
with the Hollywood Slayer.
He's calling into a live
interview on a local station...
means he's still in the city.
We've got the air, the rails,
and the highways on lock.
Which means he's trapped.
Hey.
What are you doing?
Listening to your interview, Kiki.
I've got a silly nickname.
So what?
No, it's all good. I'm just...
Glad to know I'm not the
only one with secrets.
Why are you listening to it again?
There was a melody
playing in the background
when you were chatting with Mr.
Thrill Kill that I just couldn't shake.
So I isolated it, and I've been
listening to it again. Here.
You recognize that?
No.
"Suicide Solution."
Is that a song?
Really?
It was Ozzy Osbourne.
That's one of the purest tunes
about the fragmented human psyche.
An... anyways, he said
that you were too late when he called.
Too late for what?
I think he's gonna kill himself.
Really?
It seems so unlike him.
He's arrogant, like...
like he can never lose.
Yeah, but maybe he's not losing.
I mean, maybe he's going
out on his own terms.
* Wine is fine, but whiskey's quicker *
* suicide is slow with liquor *
* take a bottle, drown your sorrows *
* then it floods away tomorrows *
* Take me away *
* Oh, oh *
* tomorrow *
* you never give me rest *
* no first, no first, no first, no day *
Hmm.
Oh.
Oh, wow.
You are far too young
to have a 15-year-old.
Oh, I only look this young
because of your magic.
No, no. Wow. She's beautiful.
And suddenly so grown up.
So far, she doesn't hate me, thank god,
but I have a feeling that's coming.
No, no. You're lucky.
I was a horrible teenager.
Always causing trouble.
Oh, and I was such a goody-goody.
I was boring, really.
Do you have kids?
I do, yeah. I have a boy, 5.
- And my daughter is 8.
- Oh.
She wants to be a scientist.
Yeah, mine wants to be a rock star.
She sings in this band,
has dreams of being
discovered on the Strip.
Wow.
Well, lots of girls have dreams
- of being discovered on the Strip.
- I know.
I... it's a teenage fantasy, nothing more.
But her father would, uh, make a big deal
out of saying no if he knew,
making her want it even more, so...
We've kept that our little secret.
Is he not around?
Are you a single mom, too?
I'm married, but I often
feel like I'm a single mom.
My husband works a lot.
Hmm. That must be hard.
Kind of used to it.
When it's just me and
Vicki, you know, it's easy.
Pop two lean cuisines in
the oven and call it a day.
But when Jack is here...
It's a lot of work.
Let me guess...
dirty laundry all over the floor.
Dishes in the sink. Are
all... is this all men?
I'm sure most.
My boyfriend actually always
cleans up after himself, but
he has other things. He's...
so stubborn and
- obsessive.
- Oh, I get obsessive.
My husband is the poster child for it.
Jack is a detective, and
he Gets very caught up in his cases.
My boyfriend is not even
sure we can be together
because of what he does.
No, I... I get it. Their
work is so important to them.
And with Jack, it's personal.
Really? How so?
He lost his mother when he was young.
Hmm.
And now it's like he has to save people
to make up for his own loss.
I'm just not sure anything
will ever fill that void.
Mm-hmm.
Oh...
And you came here to
try to sell color sticks.
I'm sorry. Way too much information.
No, not at all.
I'm parched.
Could I trouble you for a glass of water?
Oh, my god. I can't believe
how inhospitable I've been.
Yes, of course. I'll be right back.
Oh.
Make sure you call me
if any of your employees
recognize him as one
of your regulars, okay?
All right.
You know, I don't know
how many more of these tips
I can listen to, Jack.
I mean, these people
are complete whack jobs,
and the other half are obnoxious kids
- who are calling to make prank calls.
- Are most of the kids boys?
Of course, and they all think
a serial killer is hilarious.
Any of them give an address?
Well, sure, if the
address has "Uranus" in it.
There was that one little girl.
Yeah, there's been a few girls.
The tape of... of... of the
girl with the killer sitter.
Cue that up again.
Yeah, what are you thinking?
I don't know.
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
He's my babysitter.
I live at 2003 Dover Road.
That's what I'm saying.
I already ran that down.
The address doesn't exist.
There's no 2003 Dover Road.
- Play it again.
- All right.
The man that you're looking for...
Kent Grainger?
I know where he lives.
He's my babysitter.
I live at 2003 Dover Road.
2003.
The envelope that was sent to Karen...
the killer used a kid to write the address.
This little girl...
maybe it's her handwriting.
What if she's dyslexic?
She gets her letters backwards,
maybe her numbers, too,
like her address. Try, um...
try 2300.
Uh, negative.
What about, uh, 2030?
Bingo.
This has got to be it.
There's a Hobie's ice cream
right nearby. Let's go.
Well, it's so nice to have
girlfriend time for a change.
Nancy, until you came by today,
I forgot how much I missed it.
Need it.
Life-affirming, almost.
For me, too.
You know, this was a perfect afternoon.
Good luck with Vicki, and...
I have a feeling we'll
see each other again.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Police. Open up.
Hi, young lady. Are y... are you Mary?
He's not a bad person.
Hey.
Listen, you did the
right thing by calling us.
Can you tell us where he lives?
Mary?
What's going on?
Ma'am, I need you to keep her inside.
Keep the doors locked.
Stay away from the windows, okay?
- Okay.
- Thank you, ma'am.
Yeah, he's going
door-to-door right now.
Sift through it.
Guys, he wants...
Fire department says your guy here
drenched himself in an accelerant
and set himself on fire.
Based on the heat damage,
he must have spread it
around the house, too.
So, suicide, huh?
Yeah. Nasty way to die,
but given the grace he showed
his victims, it's well-deserved.
How long until you have
confirmation it's him?
- Uh, a few days.
- Call as soon as you know something.
Could you move it along, please, ma'am?
We're trying to keep the street clear.
Hey, the, uh, search dogs pick up anything?
No, they had his scent
up until the backyard,
but then they lost it,
so looks like our guy
never escaped the fire.
We found his motorcycle in
the garage, all burned up,
but there was no evidence
of any of our victims,
- charred or otherwise.
- Ah, that could just mean his kill lair
was somewhere else, right?
I talked to Kent's neighbors.
They said he kept to himself.
Yeah, well, with the exception
of Mary and her mother.
I talked to the social worker.
She says the mother and
daughter are still in shock.
- Sure.
- The sad gist of what I could gather
from Mary is that Kent
was a great babysitter.
Well, I guess even horrible
people do good things sometimes.
I guess we're 11 for 11.
Those shoes are still ugly, Bukowski.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
In an unexpected yet exciting turn,
the Hollywood Slayer has eluded justice
and has taken his own life.
* I gave you my heart and I gave you my soul *
* and now you gone and left me cold *
* I'm merely asking for you to come on down *
You know I hate to see you cry.
They said you were dead.
You know I could never do that to you.
To us.
I have so much to live for because of you.
I saw the body.
Your little mistake came in handy.
Jimmy.
Better together than apart.
Yeah.
That was "Fally Lover" by Johnny Osbourne.
And in the news, Angelenos
can rest easy tonight
as the Hollywood Slayer's murderous summer
comes to an end.