(siren wails)
*
(siren stops)
Excuse me, I got a report of a shooting.
Detective Wells?
Yeah...
That'll be $24.80.
That includes the police discount.
(sighs)
Lunch! Come and get it while it's hot.
Wow, it's so nice of you, detective.
Ah... 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? Payback.
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 the 117.
(phone rings) Yeah, you don't want to know what happens at 11 months.
(laughs)
Queens Homicide.
MALE VOICE: Good afternoon, detective.
I'm about to kill someone. (laughs)
Very funny, Roe.
Hmm?
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. (dial tone)
Hello?
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.
Someone will die in 16 minutes.
CONDUCTOR: Stand clear of the closing doors
A subway...
CONDUCTOR: Next stop, 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.
(loud scream)
(loud laughing)
(indistinct conversation)
I don't know, maybe we got the wrong place.
Or maybe this guy was just a kook.
That's it, 16 minutes.
Help! Someone help!
Oh, my God!
Oh, my God, help him! Please!
Oh, my God!
Someone help him! Oh, my God!
WOMAN: Oh, my God, Oh, my God!
(sobbing)
Victim is Derek Wallen, psychologist,
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.
Uh, 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..
AL: Carr...
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 misunderstanding.
Oh 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? Hm?
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.
Yes.
Oh. 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?
(gulps)
Hm.
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, he likes to see their faces.
Right between the eyes.
MIKE: 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?
Yeah.
Are you kidding? I was about to go up and tell her
not to contaminate the crime scene.
(chuckles)
Oh, man, I'm glad I didn't do that.
I'm going to go check on that security video.
Uh, 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.
Really?
Lucky for you,
word is, she may not last too long out here.
That's what they said about me. (chuckles)
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,
psychotherapist from Jamaica State.
Raised in Yonkers, PhD from the New School.
Not exactly from the same worlds.
Uh, 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...
Oh, I'll let you know.
Thank you.
MIKE: 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.
Huh?
(chuckles)
I think it's the red hair.
I'm thinking about dyeing mine tonight.
Pink, maybe a blond or... Yeah.
Carrie Wells.
MALE VOICE: Hi, Carrie. Remember me?
Well, how could I
forget you?
(laughs): 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.
Oh... is that a riddle, now?
Why, are you stumped?
Need a hand?
Sorry.
Fred?
No?
(slams handset down)
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.
(sighs) 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?
FRED: 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.
Carrie.
*
I'd say it just got personal.
AL: 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.
Oh, 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.
Mmm. 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.
Ah, 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.
Oh. 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.
(laughs) 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.
Great.
Guys.
He's calling again.
I'm up.
AL: Okay, everyone quiet!
Make sure it's routed through Tanya.
(phone rings)
Hey, Fred. How's it going?
Did you find my little surprise?
Oh, 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.
(slams handset)
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.
Oh, 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.
JOANNE: And when he does,
he will want to reassert his dominance.
Which is maybe, hopefully, when he makes a mistake.
ROE: Or he's pissed you hung up on him,
kills six more people, and calls back
to give you the bird.
(phone rings)
Guess we got disconnected, huh?
Well played, Carrie.
I'm impressed. Oh, 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.
(whispers loudly): Happy hunting.
(click)
(slams handset) AL: Great.
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.
Fine.
Good. Good.
There was a discussion.
*
Hey.
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.
Yeah.
(laughs): 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.
Yeah. 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...
nowhere.
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?
No.
Hmm.
Until July 5, 1998, I got a match.
No.
Sixth-grade teacher, lived there all his life.
His prints were in the system
because he argued a speeding ticket.
Wow. You can never give up in this business, never.
But it does make for some long nights.
Good night.
(phone ringing)
(gasps)
Fred?
WOMAN: Oh, 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.
AL: Mrs. Tate,
do you know these men?
(sighs) Never seen 'em before.
Sorry.
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.
Oh.
Okay. Thank you.
We'll check back later, but, uh, just get some rest for now.
I'm sorry.
(monitor beeping)
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.
ALLYSON: 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?
Yeah.
She wasn't the target.
Your husband's at home?
I think so. What's going on?!
CARRIE: We need to speak to your husband.
It'll be all right.
This is Lieutenant Al Burns, NYPD.
I need you to get a unit to 146 Stonybrook Road immediately.
Duane Tate?
Is Allyson okay?
We need to talk.
(door closes)
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.
Oh.
Wait a second.
Oh, geez.
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?
Oh, 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.
CARRIE: 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?
No.
What?
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,
things.
Oh.
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 Sparky.
Do you know anyone else we could contact at Broad Meadow?
(sighs) 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.
MAN: 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?
Yes.
Do you know why he left?
He was dishonorably discharged.
Oh.
TANYA: Carrie?
Mm?
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...
Flies.
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!
Ha!
That means a lot coming from you.
Oh. It's really nice.
What are you two talking about?
Biology. You wouldn't be interested.
Oh, 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?
Oh, Tanya.
We are dialing the numbers of three disposable cell phones,
AKA burner cells.
Okay. Burner number one.
(phone ringing)
MAN: 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.
CARRIE: Hmm.
All right, next.
Number two.
(phone ringing)
MAN (heavy accent): Hello?
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.
(phone ringing)
(beeps)
Hello?
FRED: What took you so long?
Uh...
(chuckles) 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.
Oh, 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.
Oh, no.
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.
(beep) Hey, Lester?
Les...
Did we get him?
Uh, I'm gonna say yes.
Yes, all right.
TANYA: 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?
Oh, sure; of course, he couldn't remember 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.
FRED: 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, huh?
When's the next ferry?
2:27.
34 minutes.
(foghorn blows)
No luck?
He's not gonna do it here anyway.
I agree.
All right.
Stay in sight. Yeah.
*
(silenced gunshot)
Lester!
Put your weapon down!
Put it down, Lester!
(gunshots)
(groaning)
(laughter) AL: 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.
Why? 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.
(whispering): They were delicious.
(laughter)
ROE: Hey,
am I interrupting?
Well, I don't know, what do you got?
(sighs) Uh, 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?
Uh, 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. Oh, yeah it is.
We got positive ID.
Prints confirmed it.
Well...
then who did we talk to?
Sparky.
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.
JOANNE: That's a phone number.
(sighs)
Use my phone.
(phone line ringing)
FRED: Hello, Carrie.
I've been waiting for your call.
Have to say, it's been a pleasure working with you.
Oh, 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?
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.
* Secret hidden underneath it
* Trying hard to keep it
* Safely out of reach
* Creeping, I can feel it breathing *
* Coming to the surface
* Find me in my dream
* Oh, sweet despair
* Feel you devour me...
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