iZombie (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 11 - Fifty Shades of Grey Matter - full transcript

LIV: Previously on iZombie...

PEYTON: I need everything you can tell
me about Mr. Boss' crime organization.

MAN: The media's calling you
the Chaos Killer.

The vic who went
missing in Seward Park...

We just learned that his pooch had
one of those GPS tracking devices.

This man is dying, and your first
thought is to bring him here?

He's the only person who knows
where to find tainted Utopium.

I can't make the cure without
more tainted Utopium.

I guess I should thank you
for saving my life.

We have two bodies
packed full of tainted Utopium

buried in a shallow grave.



RAVI: We can narrow the location
to a single 100 acre field.

John Deaux?
I'm agent Dale Bozzio.

- Who's this?
- Suspect in the Meat Cute Massacre.

I just met him.
This is our guy!

(GRACE COUGHS AND SNIFFLES)

Can I help you?

I'm just using the computers.

Do you need
the Wi-Fi password?

What have I told you? Out.

- For real? Come on...
- Do I need to call security?

Go.

Bitch.

- Porn?
- Snuff films.

-(SIGHS) - You're not
leaving all that shelving



for me to do again, are you?

I'm so sorry, I'm just
not feeling too great.

Would it be
awful if I left early?

Fine.

Thank you.

(COUGHS)

Hey! Stop that!

Get down from there!

I'm calling the police!

That kid was trying to tip the
shelves on to you, I think.

- He what?
-(COUGHING)

Uh... Please cover your mouth!

Oh, my!

Oh...

Oh!

(THEME SONG PLAYING)

Meet Grace LeGare.

Victim of hemlock poisoning.

She was a librarian, collapsed
at work three days ago.

She's been in hospital since.
Died, obviously.

LIV: But doctors couldn't figure
out the underlying cause.

She's 30 and otherwise healthy.
Makes no sense.

So they send her to us.

And she might've been categorized a
"respiratory failure" due to "unknown.“

- But...
- But Ravi figured it out

and he's super desperate
for an attaboy.

Attaboy.

All I'm saying is,
a lesser pathologist

might have missed trace amounts
of stool in her intestines,

which contained trace amounts
of water hemlock.

What do we know about hemlock?

Well, I believe it was
Socrates who said of hemlock,

“I drank what?“

Claudius kills Hamlet Senior with
a drop of hemlock in his ear.

Will one of you give me
a hand signal or something

when you're about to
say something useful?

Hemlock is a leafy plant.
Highly lethal.

It can be slipped into a salad,
a tea, a green smoothie...

In the morning I'll drop in
on the husband, Andy LeGare.

You free?

To see the poor man hear that his wife
didn't just die, she was murdered?

Seeing his first reaction to the
news will tell us a lot about him.

Like if he's surprised
we figured it out.

(SIGHS)

Whoa! Sorry, boys,
no visitors tonight.

Boss' orders.

He's expecting me.

That might be true, but we got
conflicting stories here.

Because just 10 minutes ago, he
told me not to let anyone in.

Now, I'd say that request
is, uh, pretty fresh.

Straight out of the oven,
piping hot.

Questions?

Thoughts? Feelings?

I feel like you're a punk-ass
and you better watch yourself.

You know, I'm working on that.

My ex says I put a wall up in my
interpersonal relationships...

Yo, Mouth, our stash house
got raided tonight again.

Unless Boss is down with donating
100 G's worth of product

to the cops on the reg, he's gonna wanna
know there's a leak in his crew. Move!

I'd be happy to pass
the message along to our man,

but any other options
don't end pretty. Sorry.

Do you know who I am?

A big Danny Trejo fan?

Better do your math, son.

There's three of us
and there's one of you.

You're right.
You're right, man. I'm sorry.

I really should've...

(GRUNTS)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(PLAYING ORGAN MUSIC)

Bad day at school, kiddo?

Yeah, I nearly just got
my ass handed to me.

Boss' guys figured out
there's a rat.

And there's only so much time
before they know it's me.

You keep feeding so much
to the DA,

you're gonna get me killed.

I hear you, man,
I know you're in a tough spot.

But this is us striking
while the iron is hot.

Boss is on the ropes,
can't let up now.

Soon all that was
his will be, um, well, mine.

(CONTINUES PLAYING
ORGAN MUSIC)

LIV: Would you look at that.
No garden full of wife poison.

There's always the backyard.

Besides, if the hubby wanted
to be smart about it,

he'd grow his hemlock
off the premises.

I've got a good feeling
about this husband.

This news is
going to destroy him.

(DOORBELL RINGING)

Mr. LeGare, I'm Detective
Clive Babineaux, Seattle PD.

Oh, I'm not... I'm Todd.

Andy's home health aide.

Come on in.

Andy, you have visitors.

Hey, uh...

They're from
the police department.

Hi. What's going on?

Mr. LeGare,
I have some bad news.

Someone poisoned your wife.

What are you saying?
Grace was murdered?

Yes, sir. I'm sorry.

Oh, God.

(ANDY WHIMPERING)

You're saying somebody
deliberately poisoned Grace?

With water hemlock. It's a leafy green
plant, it can easily be snuck into food.

- Are you growing anything like that, sir?
- No.

No, my gardening days
are behind me.

Todd does everything
except wipe my nose.

That's a great photo.

Thanks.

I'm sorry, can I ask how...

Sure. I was a firefighter.

Five years ago,
I was out on a call,

a support beam collapsed,
flattened me.

Caused a burst fracture
in my L1.

I'm sorry.

- Yeah.
- CLIVE: Mr. LeGare,

is it possible your wife
had enemies?

Enemies? No.

There was a woman at work...

Uh, Muriel.

The librarian
Grace worked with?

Yeah. She was no picnic.

Grace used to complain
about her all the time.

CLIVE: Did she get specific?

ANDY: She'd look over her shoulder when
she was using the computers, you know?

Grace used to say the...

(GASPS)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Oh, Grace couldn't wait
to get away from Muriel.

As soon as that advance money
came in, she was gonna quit.

I'm sorry... Advance money?

Grace just sold a novel.

Impressive.

She had a dream
and she made it happen.

Major publisher. Book tour.
The whole deal.

Book comes out
in a couple weeks.

Out of curiosity, what kind
of book did Grace write?

Romance.

CLIVE: About this Muriel...

Murdered?

CLIVE: I'm afraid so.

And according to Grace's husband,
you're the only enemy she had.

Me? He thinks I killed Grace?

(SCOFFS) I always tried
to be friendly with Andy.

But not Grace.

Grace used work time
inappropriately

and when I caught her,
I'd reprimand her.

Inappropriately how?

She'd work on her book.

And that's frowned on?

I'm a writer too, and I would never expect
taxpayers to fund my private activities.

Grace was getting
a big advance for her book.

Did that cause friction?

You're asking me
if I was jealous?

(SCOFFS)

You must not know what kind
of book Grace was writing.

A romance novel.

That's one way to describe it.

Ah. This is Grace's pre-release
copy of her audiobook.

Have a listen.

LIV: “The Upright Position,
as read by Kristen Bell.”

I've always felt
a kind of connection to her.

(CELL PHONE BEEPING)

KRISTEN BELL: (ON HEADPHONES) He tore
off my scarf, a savage beast in heat.

"You've been a bad little
bitch, haven't you?"

My breasts heaved against the cool, molded
plastic of the airplane's instruments.

He pressed his
maleness against me.

"Sonja," he growled,
husky with passion.

"I'm gonna show you
why they call it a cockpit."

Honey, I'm home.

Oh, good.

Tell me librarian brain has filled you
with an urge to create order out of chaos.

Our medical files are a mess.

I've been a
bad morgue attendant.

I'll understand if there
are punitive measures.

Liv, did you eat a librarian
from a porno?

I am so sorry.

She wrote erotica and I can
barely keep it in my pants.

Then you think about something
sacred, like your mum.

Or something gross,
like Margaret Thatcher.

What do American boys
think about?

Baseball,I guess?

Then think about baseball.

Go forth,
direct your lust elsewhere.

(SIGHS)

DRAKE: Liv.

God help me.

I'm glad you're here.

I would've called but
I don't have your number.

Babe...

Ruth.

You okay?

Sorry, Drake. It's the brains.

You got some time for a little
zombie-to-zombie advice?

Happy to help. What's up?

You know I'm a bouncer, right?

Yeah, well, uh...

This thing happened
last night.

There was a fight.

I lost control
and I pretty much threw

a rowdy customer
across the parking lot.

- What's that about?
- RAVI: Drake!

Got time to leave
some blood samples today?

- Yeah, sure.
- Great, let me...

-I'll do it.
- Oh, it's no problem.

(FORCEFULLY) I'll do it.

So, losing control,
throwing a guy

across a parking lot, it sounds
like full-on zombie mode.

Eyes go red.
Adrenaline pumping.

You'll only go full-on
zombie mode when there's

a perceived threat
to survival.

An acute stress...

- An acute stress?
-lt's a zombie thing.

It's impossible to control.

Okay,

uh, well, let me ask you a
survival-related question.

- Our buddy Blaine...
- Not my buddy.

Or mine. But he's got me
over a barrel, brain-wise.

He's got me doing
odd jobs for him.

Morgue stuff, mainly.

Body pickups, whatever.

That doesn't sound like fun.

No, it's not.

So, here's the thing...

If I can't deal with Blaine
anymore, you think I could, um...

Get brains from you?

From here?

I don't really know you.

Oh. No, I totally get it.

I'll make the
Blaine situation work.

But I'd like to know you.

(CHUCKLES) Yeah?

Just say when.

I hate tea.
Burnt water with plants in it.

Some dick took the last K-cup.

-(EXHALES CONTENTEDLY)
- I'd throw this on your lap

if I wasn't going
to use it later.

(SPITS)

What do we got?

This is the guy you spoke with
at the funeral home, right?

- John Deaux?
- DALE: Definitely.

He's the guy
I met at Meat Cute.

But Suzuki didn't write "John Deaux" on
the walls of Meat Cute in his own blood.

He wrote "Blaine."

I'm gonna go out on a limb and
say John Deaux is an alias.

What did the records say?

Last year, Deaux applied
for a business license.

Before that,
the man didn't exist.

What about school records,
Social, DMV fingerprinting?

All mysteriously unavailable.

Someone's protecting
him here in Seattle.

So we use FBI resources.

Get the mother
of all databases on it.

And then we bust this S.O.B.

And then victory sex.
High five!

Good news on
the Chaos Killer case.

The kidnapped tech guy whose
dog has a GPS tracker?

I got through the red tape, we're
turning the tracker on tonight.

Oh, let me know when,
I'll ride along.

It's a long shot,
but who knows?

Maybe the dog will lead us
right to the Chaos Killer.

Major Lilywhite.

Who's a pretty boy?

Minor should be ready by 7:00.

You're still at the same
address and phone number?

Yep. You know
where to find me.

(DOG GROOMER BABYTALKING)

Come on, let's go.

- Come! Good boy!
-(CHIMES JINGLING)

Okay. Mmm. Date on Thursday.
Tell me about this guy.

He's got these thick biceps

that stretch the
cottony limits of his T-shirt.

Hmm.

He's got a scar on his face
that speaks of sin.

This is a man who knows when to take a
woman by the back of her neck and...

Oh!

Sorry. I'm on horny-librarian-slash-
erotica-novelist brain.

Is your erotica novelist
any good?

I'll read you some.

It's about this porny flight
attendant who's down for anything.

Grace LeGare...

"Your search did not
match any products?"

Upright Position.

Bingo! Written by
Emmanuelle LeFevre?

Pen name, I guess.

Okay. "'Turn around
and face me,' he orders.“

- Hmm.
-"I do what I'm told.

"I know I'm in trouble. It
frightens me, and thrills me.

"Johnny leers at the cotton dress
clinging to my hips and breasts.

“He demands..."

You are not going out
dressed like that.

You're gonna put something on that's not
gonna make all my friends want to nail you.

Oh. Welcome back.

Okay.
I'm pre-ordering this book.

You're not the only one
in a dry spell.

LIV: Still not hopping on your
always-the-spouse-bandwagon,

-but Grace's husband, Andy?
- CLIVE: Yeah...

Super possessive.

I had a vision of him
laying into her

for wearing a fairly standard
summer dress.

What are you considering
fairly standard these days?

A good man admires his wife's
beauty, he doesn't slut shame her.

Speaking of “good men,"
I did a background on him.

You know how he ended up
in that wheelchair?

Oh, he said
a beam fell on him.

After he ran back into a burning
building to save a six-year-old.

Well, he was still
the jealous type.

And I saw online that somewhere between
receiving the audio book approval copy

and when she was murdered, Grace replaced
her name on the book with a pen name.

Maybe her husband wasn't as cool with
Grace's book as he's letting on.

Let's go pay him a visit.

- She took her name off the book?
- Grace never mentioned it?

I mean, we talked about it.

Grace was worried about the book being
under her name if we had kids one day.

I mean, it's kind of dirty.

Do you think your wife might have been
writing about her own sexual fantasies,

using a sexy stewardess
as her proxy?

I don't know.

(CLEARS THROAT) Maybe? I mean, it can't
have been easy being married to...

Mr. LeGare, do you mind if we
take a look at your backyard?

Stone patio in the back, grass in
the front. Nowhere to grow hemlock.

Maybe he bought it.

I've scoured the darkest
parts of the Internet.

All I could find were some
seeds on a witchcraft website.

-(CAR DOOR OPENING) - But
you still gotta grow 'em.

Sexy flight attendant.

Excuse me, ma'am'?

Clive Babineaux, Seattle PD,

this is Liv Moore with
the medical examiner's office.

Alyssa Tramell.

We're looking into the murder
of Grace LeGare.

Did you know she'd written a book
that she was getting published?

Of course.
She was thrilled about it.

Did you know it was about the erotic
adventures of a sexy flight attendant?

- Hey, baby...
- Hi.

Oh, they're from the police. They're
looking into Grace's murder.

Oh. It's awful, isn't it?

This is my husband.

Did you need anything else?

Here's my card.

If you think of anything,
don't hesitate to call.

Or if we don't hear from you,
maybe we'll drop back by.

Thank you, Detectives.

Why do people
bury license plates?

Do they think cars are going
to grow out of the ground?

All this digging in a field,
and still no tainted Utopium,

but I have license plates
from 30 states.

I'm booked tomorrow,
but I can do the day after.

Have you guys ever wrestled?

Stripped down, oiled up,

seen who winds up on top?

- Have we?
- Strangely enough, no.

Night's young-

Sorry. Porny librarian
sneaking through.

It's just you two...

Oh. Oopsie.

Liv. Our flight attendant
neighbor just reached out.

- You available if she comes in now?
- Sure.

-(CELL PHONE CHIMING)
- If you do wrestle, film it.

A change of plans.
That was Bozzio.

Your lover?

FBI Agent Bozzio.

We'll bring the
flight attendant tomorrow.

I've gotta follow up on this GPS
thing, they finally turned it on.

Good luck.

He really fills out
those fitted shirts, huh?

- Mmm-hmm.
- Mmm-hmm.

What's the GPS thing?

One of the missing rich guys
had a dog.

And the dog has a GPS tracker
and they turned it on.

They're hoping it leads them
to the Chaos Killer.

(EXHALES) Well...

Gotta run, kids. Duty calls.

Why leave now? It's rush hour.

All the more reason.

Ugh. Why is the little dot
not coming up?

CLIVE: You gotta tap reload
to make it...

- DALE: Did you hear that?
- What?

It sounded like a man who's never used
this app in his life trying to mansplain.

- You asked me.
- Mmm...

-(CELL PHONE BEEPS)
- We got it.

Signal's locked.
Looks like it's holding still.

Good. Traffic's bad,
it's gonna take 10 minutes.

Hello? Hello?

Hello?

- Are you all right?
- Hey, I'm fine, I just need my dog.

Oh, he's not
quite ready yet.

(SHOUTING) Just give me
my dog!

(STAMMERING) Hey, hold on!
I'm sorry.

I don't mean to yell.
It's just, uh...

Minor is stolen.

I stole him.

- What?
-l'm a personal trainer. Okay?

Minor belonged to
a guy I was training. A cop.

- But the cop abused him, beat him.
- Oh, my God.

I know it's scary, but I
need you to cover for me.

Please, just give me Minor,
and when the cops show up,

- I was never here.
- The police?

- You want me to lie...
- Please!

Please. This guy is a monster.

We close?

We're right on top of it.

(PANTING) Okay. Here we go.

Here we go. Here's daddy.

Come on, sweetheart.
There you go.

Thank you.

Oh, come on, man,

you're telling me the rich tech guru
didn't spring for the microchip implant?

- The tracker's not in the dog?
- You're holding it.

It's in the dongle.

We're not far from the park where
our missing tech guru was abducted.

The kidnapper
probably tossed it.

You're going to be famous,
buddy. Yeah! You know that?

Huh?

Everyone's looking for you.

Yeah, I know.

This time tomorrow,
you'll have a great home,

maybe a couple of kids.

I'm sorry, buddy.

I'm gonna miss you.

Ms. Tramell.
Thanks for coming in.

Alyssa, please.

And thank you for
letting me do this here.

It seemed like you didn't want to answer
our questions in front of your husband.

Can you blame me?
Grace's book is about me.

I told her about my flings
because I felt bad for her.

They were the only
sex life she had.

Only? You mean Andy couldn't?

Worse. Wouldn't.

She's gone without for five
years, since his accident.

Five years!

Were you worried people would read
her book and figure out it was you?

I knew they would.

A Latina flight attendant
named Ally?

How did you get
to see the manuscript?

Grace showed me. She wanted me to
sign a release, but I wouldn't do it.

A week later, I get
a call from her editor,

lady's name was Lerna Stern,

saying they'd changed the
character's name and hair color,

and they felt confident enough to go
ahead and publish without my release.

Did Grace offer to use a pen name?
Help disguise you that way?

A pen name?
Are you kidding?

Getting that book published
was her dream.

Do you have the number for Grace's
editor saved on your phone?

- Ladies room?
- Through those doors. To the right.

(LIV SIGHS)

Men are always so phallocentric, Clive.
Why is that?

Just are.

Ms. Stern. This is
Clive Babineaux, Seattle PD.

I'm investigating the murder
of Grace LeGare.

I thought it was an accident.

I'm afraid she was murdered.
Hemlock poisoning.

Was hemlock sprinkled
in her salad?

Ma'am, would you, uh...
Could you repeat that?

I asked if the hemlock
was sprinkled in her salad.

whY do You ask?

A few weeks back, Grace sent me a
manuscript by a friend of hers.

A murder mystery.

The death was
hemlock poisoning.

Was the author
Muriel Fletcher?

Wow. Yeah. That's right.

I think we can get a search
warrant for Muriel's off this.

Calderon's getting Utopium, plus
the oxy he was handling already.

And he'll be taking deliveries
from the Blue Cobras.

That is the primo Utopium supply
point in all of our fair city.

(SIGHS)

This is gold
you're giving me, Deaux.

Nah. Just the humble wit and
wisdom of a reformed U slinger.

The mayor wouldn't be sending free
booze if your info was humble.

- That's from the mayor?
- Yeah.

"Keep up the good work. You're
a credit to your gender."

Well, looks like she means it.
This is quality stuff.

I couldn't have done
this without you.

You want in?

(CHUCKLES)

You did not do time
in a Colombian prison.

All right.
We're cutting you off.

(CHUCKLES)

Costa Rica. And it was more of
a drunk tank than a prison.

- Still, it sounds made up.
- Oh, it's all true.

My cousin Timmy and I flew down
to Tamarindo after graduation.

One night, Tim and I are getting
yacked up on kamikazes at this bar.

We're running up a tab.

And at some point, one of us
reaches for our wallet, it's gone.

We'd both been pickpocketed.

$0 you got busted
trying to walk a check?

That's not really badass.

Patience. All right? Now,
the pedicab driver

that delivered us to this dive

is getting more blitzed
at the bar than us.

So I walk outside,
I steal the pedicab,

I drive American tourists
around for three hours,

I make 80 bucks,
and I walk back in the bar.

Grand theft bicycle.

That would have been
way cooler, but no.

The cop arrested me for operating
a cab without a license.

(CHUCKLES)

You expected a "no“ when you asked me
if I've ever been arrested, didn't you?

I didn't ask if
you'd been arrested.

I asked if you'd
ever been handcuffed.

No! Wait!

(GASPS)
I'm taking advantage of you.

I don't think that's true.

Wait. I roofied you
with horny librarian brain.

That's a first.

Mmm.

Oh, she hadn't gotten
laid in years.

- This really isn't me.
- This isn't, uh, far from me.

Really, I would've been
willing pre-brain. Pre-zombie.

Pretty much any time
after my 12th birthday.

Okay...

Here's the plan.

If we're still interested when
this brain wears off a bit,

we can pick up
where we left off.

But right now,
we can't do this.

(CLEARS THROAT)
Story of my life.

Zombie date sends me away
until horny brain wears off.

(LAUGHS)

(LIV CLEARS THROAT)

(BOTH LAUGHING)

I don't know why I do it,
but it started in college.

I'm not hearing it.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Hmm. It's just whiskey.

And I don't...

I don't know what it is,

(IN A SOUTHERN ACCENT) but
it makes me drunk southern.

- Uh-huh.
- Mmm-hmm.

(IN A SOUTHERN ACCENT)
What about champagne?

(IN A FRENCH ACCENT)
Do you go French?

Ooh! What about tequila?

Oh, God, no.
You do not want to know

what happens to me
when I drink tequila.

I'm pretty sure I do.

- No. No.
- Yes.

As for me...

-(IN A COCKNEY ACCENT) I go
drunk cockney, I do. - Oh!

A cuppa mudder's ruin, luv, an it's
all "Varder those bonnie lallies."

Etcetera, etcetera.

(BOTH LAUGH)

- So, this hair...
- Mmm-hmm?

Hmm.

How much product do
you got working in here?

It's just a dollop of pomade
and I'm out the door.

-No!
-Yup.

I think you put some
serious time into this look.

Well, we can't
all look like

we were created in a lab
by 14-year-old boys, can we?

(LAUGHS)

(MOANS)

Oh, God.

(MOANS)

Little white flowers in an
umbrella pattern. Use gloves.

Muriel Fletcher. This is a
warrant to search your property.

(STAMMERING) On what grounds?

You failed to mention that a character
in your novel eats a hemlock salad.

You had access
to Grace's lunch.

You were jealous.

Grace wrote pornography.

If that's success,
I want no part of it.

Is that why you asked Grace to give
your manuscript to her publishers?

Sir. You've gotta see this.

Yes. Yes, I garden.
But I don't grow hemlock.

And my book is nothing
like Grace's murder!

The publisher sent the PDF.

“The little fool had no idea
I put hemlock in her salad.

"There she sat, her molars mashing the
leaves into the shape of her destiny."

GRACE:
“The shape of her destiny“?

She wants me to send it
to my editor,

but I can't do that to Lerna.

Here, let me see that.

Sir, this was
in the fireplace.

First thing we saw.

Bound galleys
for Grace's book.

I'm guessing you tried to
destroy it when you heard

we had figured out Grace
had to have been poisoned.

All these nasty comments you wrote
in the margins speak to motive.

Should've stoked
your fire better.

LIV: Clive, look.

In this version, Grace used her real name.
And a photograph.

It's not very anonymous...

ls that what I think it is?

Water hemlock.

In the window box of
Grace and Andy's house.

I'll be inside, itemizing a bill
for the damages to my garden.

In my vision, I saw Grace
reading Muriel's book to Andy.

But she wasn't giving it
to her editor.

What if Andy sent the book,
posing as Grace?

Then uses the book as
a blueprint to kill his wife.

Your wife's publisher provided us the
email where Grace requested a pen name.

Funny thing,
it was from a new account.

One set up from your home
while Grace was at work.

You sent that email.

Your nurse Todd confirmed
you had a window box planter.

The week before Grace's death, you
ordered him to take it down, trash it.

He didn't. He gave it to
another one of his patients.

Now we have it.

What do you think the soil
analysis is gonna show us?

Water hemlock.

I'm going to be in this chair
for the rest of my life.

You know what gets me
through my days?

Knowing that people look at me
and they see a hero.

You know what I was going
to be once that book came out?

The guy who couldn't give it
to his wife,

so she fantasizes about
doing it with everybody else.

Threesomes. French guys.

- Ex-cons.
- She didn't cheat on you.

They weren't her stories.

No one's gonna believe that.

I begged her not to publish.

She didn't care.

My wife didn't care.

(TAPPING ON GLASS)

If this is about your missing
tech millionaire's basset hound,

I heard someone
found him on a bus.

It's not about that dog.

It's about this one.

- Deaux's got a record?
- And a different name.

DeBeers, comma, Blaine.

Blaine.

- We found him.
- Gets crazier.

DeBeers is an alias too.

It's a moniker he picked up from some
high schoolers he sold beer and pot to

with a real winner,
Julien DeWeed.

As in "Blaine's got da beers,
Julien's got da weed.“

That's Julien DeWeed?

- AKA Julien Dupont.
- You know him?

He was one of the
corpses at Meat Cute.

This is the guy Major Lilywhite
claimed attacked him.

And that is a completely crazy
revelation, but here's the coolest part.

How can what I just said
not be the coolest part?

(SHUSHING)

Blaine's real last name
is McDonough.

He is the son
of Angus McDonough.

Blaine's father is one
of the Chaos Killer's victims.

To go with the two other victims, whose
phones contained Blaine's number.

Okay. We gotta go slow.
It's all circumstantial.

Or we go arrest him right now.

Never mind we don't have any physical
evidence connecting him to the crimes.

How much would you like me
if I told you

Blaine DeBeers has an outstanding
warrant for possession

with intent to sell?

I'd like you a lot.

Let's put him in jail for a few years.
Figure out the rest later.

I'm chafing a little here.

I suppose it's too much
to ask for the fuzzy ones?

CLIVE: You've been read your rights.
You've had your phone call.

We spoke a few days ago about your
number turning up in the phones

of two kidnapping victims.

A couple rando,
would-be customers.

I told you,
it's a coincidence.

Seems pretty unlikely.

Yeah. That's what
“coincidence" means.

So two would-be customers abducted by
the Chaos Killer is a coincidence.

What's it called when
we add your dad to the list?

A miracle?

Why didn't you mention your father was
one of the Chaos Killer's victims,

Mr. McDonough?

I didn't know.

- We don't talk a whole lot.
- It's on the front page.

- When did you find out?
- Right now. I'm distraught.

I won't rest until the
scoundrel is behind bars.

This sketch was based on a
description provided by someone

you hired at the
Meat Cute charcuterie.

Were you there the
night of the massacre?

No. I was a part-timer.

But the detective who was
killed that night

didn't scrawl the names
of other part-timers

on the wall in blood.

Just yours.

You want to tell me what
coincidence means again?

(EXHALES)

We've met, haven't we?

We have. After that delivery kid went
missing, you swung by Meat Cute.

You ever find out
what happened to that guy?

Let's focus on you.

But your lovely friend
will feel left out.

Which neighborhood
are you living in, DB?

So tricky finding the right place
to live when you're new in town.

- What makes you think I'm new?
- I assumed.

You said you were
with the FBI, so...

Which neighborhood?

♪ Which neighborhood? ♪

I want to say Ballard.

I knew it. It's a gift.

- Watch yourself.
-l'm sorry.

I didn't mean
to upset your girl.

Not to say that
I know she's your girl.

I'm just assuming from the
chemistry which is en fuego.

That drug charge of yours
has a 10-year max sentence.

And once we let a judge know
everything you've been up to...

You can mail us some
of these threats from prison.

This interview is over.
I need you to cut him loose.

- Ms. Charles?
- Who the hell is this?

Assistant District Attorney
Peyton Charles.

The warrant is void.
He has immunity

in exchange for his
cooperation in a case.

(EXHALES) We need to talk.

(SOFTLY) Okay.

Hang tight.

You look good
on a white horse.

What the hell is
happening here, Peyton?

Why are you
protecting this creep?

Look, the four-year-old
drug charges?

I mean, they're meaningless compared
to the information he's giving us.

Look, I promise, he is more
valuable to me than he is you.

Besides, he's reformed.
He's a business owner.

He's the Chaos Killer.

What do you have?

His number, stored in the
phones of two of our victims.

- It's thin.
- Plus, one of the victims was his dad.

He mention anything about his dad going
missing while you were deposing him?

We also like him for
the Meat Cute Massacre.

- That case was solved.
- Yeah, officially, maybe.

But this is
a police sketch done

from Liv's little brother's
description of the man who hired him.

The detective killed
that night at Meat Cute?

He wrote that man's name
in blood on the walls.

That guy in there,

that guy you
granted immunity to,

has murdered a dozen people.

Unless you have enough to book
him for either of these crimes,

I need you to turn him loose.

(SIGHS)

What happens next is on you.

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(RAPID KNOCKING CONTINUES)

Peyton? What's wrong?

Do you know who this is?

Come inside.

Why are you showing
me a photo of Blaine?

He's dangerous.
Stay away from him.

That's not an option.

He's my star witness
against Mr. Boss.

He's pretty much
the whole case.

Peyton, he killed Lowell.

He tried to kill Major.
He got Evan blown up.

He turned me into a zombie.

He murdered God knows
how many homeless teenagers

and sold their brains
to zombies as food.

What's going on?

I slept with him.

I didn't know who he was.

I had no idea. I'm sorry.

- It's okay.
-(MURMURING)

It's okay.

(DETECTOR BEEPING)

Minor, guess
who found some bones!

Hey.

Good night of making
rich white people less fat?

-(CHUCKLES) Yeah, it's God's work,
what I do. - Where's Minor?

Gone, I'm afraid.

Gone? Gone where?

I saw a missing dog flyer on a
telephone pole with a photo of Minor.

So I called the number, the owners
swung by and picked him up.

Oh.

They must've been thrilled.

Yeah. Happy ending-

Bummer for us, though.

Yeah, I do wish I could've
said goodbye.

Oh, I'm sorry. I just...

You know,
they got here so fast.

I should, uh,

head home and
take a Silkwood shower.

Are you sure you're okay?

Yeah.

(SIGHS)

(SIGHS)

You know,
you sleep with someone,

you think you know them.

But they could be anybody.

Good night.

(DOOR OPENING)

Everything Okay?