MARTIN: My boy, it's your father.
Can you come for a visit?
I need to see you.
(lock buzzes, latch clicks)
How's it going, Mr. David?
It's chimichanga day in the cafeteria.
Is that good or bad?
Ask me tomorrow.
MARTIN: Aha! We have a quorum.
Please, my boy, make yourself comfortable.
Oh. Mr. David, we're gonna need anoth...
Okay.
-(lock buzzes) -I'll stand.
We need to talk about Ainsley.
Your father and I have discussed it, and we think
it's time to tell her the truth about Nicholas Endicott.
Specifically, that she killed him.
(guttural grunting)
That's a bad idea.
She's suffering from PTSD.
Learning the full story will only make it worse.
Not if we tell her as a family.
That way, we control the narrative.
Of course. It's about control.
Fine. Guide, steer,
lightly zhuzh the narrative.
JESSICA: Doesn't it worry you what will happen
if she figures things out on her own?
Of course I'm worried.
Discovering that you've been lied to about something
as seismic as murder
could lead to wild,
erratic behavior.
(people screaming)
You really think she wants to know that?
I wish I didn't know.
I wish I didn't know you were a killer.
Well, I wish you had just gone to the police
in the first place instead of all this lying.
MARTIN: Yes. Historically,
you love going to the cops at the first sign of mischief.
She slit a man's throat in cold blood.
I had to protect my sister.
Okay, okay, so you needed to lie a little.
But why not say self-defense?
Our lawyers could have run with that.
Oh, now, now, Jessie, nobody likes
a Monday-morning accomplice.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe I handled this all wrong from the start.
Or... counterpoint, maybe you handled it wrong
when you dropped a dime on dear old Dad.
I'm just saying, if he's fine with murder cover-ups,
I could have done with a little of that energy
-back in '98. -Enough, Martin.
Thank you for protecting your sister.
You were put in an impossible situation.
But now, Ainsley deserves to know the truth.
(phone vibrating)
Gil has a case.
I have to go.
Ooh, want to do some preemptive spitballing?
You staying?
I could always break open a bottle of Fanta.
You're gross.
♪ ♪
(sirens wailing)
-Where's the vic? -Damn, Bright.
Sorry. Rough morning.
I need a murder to solve. How are you?
Rough month. And this place,
spooky as hell.
Dani says it's haunted.
The Kenmare Hotel. I know its reputation.
I believe Duke Ellington used to stay here.
It was once a shining example of art deco architecture.
Turns out not everybody appreciates architecture
as much as you do.
-He was an architect. -(camera clicking)
So, bring me up to speed.
Lyle Reynolds, 43. Was working on a project
to revitalize the building.
Construction is set to start in a few weeks.
-Is the building abandoned? -DANI: Mostly. There are a few
long-term tenants, but it hasn't been a functioning hotel
since the '50s.
JT: How cheap does rent have to be
to live in the Tower of Terror?
Is this scratch antemortem?
That's right. The techs said it is unrelated
to the cause of death.
Which I'm assuming is the circle-drawy thing
jammed into his eyes.
It's actually called a ball-bearing compass.
What? I liked math class.
DANI: Well, whatever the thing's called,
it belonged to the victim.
-It's monogrammed. -Hmm.
The killer didn't bring their own weapon,
which suggests this was impulsive.
But the entry wounds are decisive.
Once they made up their mind, they didn't hesitate.
I didn't notice any fingerprints.
Good eye. It was wiped clean.
So they didn't panic under pressure.
It's one thing to kill a person, but it's another
to stay cool and collected...
-(saw whirring) -Aah!
...afterward.
Bright?
You're doing that thing where you kind of trail off
and make everyone uncomfortable.
I think we are looking for a good old-fashioned psychopath.
RAMON: It's a horrible tragedy.
Lyle was a brilliant architect,
he was a close personal friend.
AINSLEY: And how will his death
affect the timeline of the renovation?
From what I understand, you've sunk quite a bit
of money into this place.
Well, the best way we can honor Lyle's vision
is by pushing forward without delay.
Mr. Vieja, you've been accused of bribery, corruption,
-harassment... -That's all for today.
Thank you.
-Ramón Vieja? -Yeah.
NYPD. We'd like a few minutes of your time.
Oh, gentlemen, I am running late.
You may contact my attorney, but in the meantime,
I suggest you talk to those Bolsheviks on the eighth floor.
The rich ones never make it easy.
What was that about Bolsheviks?
There's some artist loft upstairs.
Ramón's been trying to kick 'em out.
Help with the canvass, will you?
Sure thing. Just, uh, give me a minute?
You're, uh, out for blood today.
If he's gonna lie through his teeth,
-I'm gonna rip 'em out. -Spoken like a true journalist.
Or KGB agent.
Did you come all the way over here to critique
-my interview style? -I came over to check in.
-How are you? -Busy.
Aren't you?
♪ ♪
What is this supposed to be?
That is my vagina,
reimagined as a three-dimensional celebration
of form and color.
Karina Petrovic.
Let me guess, Ramón Vieja thinks we did it.
-How'd you know? -KARINA: He hates our guts.
He's been trying to evict the whole building for months.
Threats, lawsuits.
He even refused to fix the elevators
when they broke down.
WENDELL: Ramón's got no sense of history.
He wants to gut this place and rip out all its character.
I heard Duke Ellington used to stay here.
You're getting a lot of mileage out of that tidbit.
That's the tip of the iceberg, my man.
Dorothy Parker drank here with Eugene O'Neill.
One of the Bowery Ripper's victims disappeared
from a party down the hall in 1963.
The Bowery Ripper? Wow.
That's a serial killer deep cut.
Dude, I got a whole section on him.
Wendell is our resident
Tom Wolfe.
DANI: So it's fair to say that
you weren't pleased with the renovation?
Sure. But nobody would take it out on Lyle.
He was a good person.
He was a stooge for Ramón.
But nobody deserves what he got.
Did you know him well? I can see you've been crying.
No. Only in passing.
-It's just really sad. -Don't mind her.
Karina's a big softie. She'll cry over anything.
DANI: Karina's hiding something.
I agree.
And Wendell's protecting her. There's tension there.
What I don't get is how that thing
was supposed to be a vagina.
(elevator bell dings)
(door creaks)
Oh, this does not inspire confidence.
I'm taking the stairs.
(bell dings)
Heard you were at Claremont this morning.
Everything all right?
Family meeting... slash ambush.
(sighs) I'm a grown man who catches killers for a living,
yet suddenly it's like I'm six years old,
getting scolded for playing squash
in my mother's solarium.
I think we need to work on your relatable metaphors.
(chuckles softly)
What were they upset about?
Family stuff.
It's complicated. I wouldn't want to bore you.
(metallic groaning)
(bell dings)
(wheelchair squeaking)
Are you detectives?
'Cause I got something to report. A lead.
Why do you have to be such a gossip?
-Your mother was a gossip. -We'd love to hear
some gossip, Miss...?
Swann. Greta Swann.
This is my father Rupert.
So we were eating breakfast--
oatmeal, because Dad can't have bacon anymore.
They don't need to know that.
And all of a sudden
we hear this horrible, screaming fight
between that architect and his boss Ramón.
It wasn't that loud.
What were they fighting about?
Something about the elevator.
You know, they were broken for three months.
Dad's lived here his whole life.
He couldn't even leave.
Where do I need to go?
-What made Ramón finally change his mind? -He didn't.
The architect fixed it himself. Felt bad or something.
I think that's why Ramón was so mad.
(bell dings)
Hey. I tried calling.
Can you send me your footage from earlier today?
The Ramón Vieja interview.
I am on a tight deadline. Why do you even need it?
He's a person of interest,
but he's lawyering up hard.
I need something to force his hand.
The guy definitely seems like he kills people.
-If this leads to an arrest... -You'll be the first to know.
-(sighs) -Thanks.
-You're the best. -Yeah.
Are you upset with me?
No. (laughs softly)
No, I just...
I haven't been sleeping.
Turns out, insomnia sucks. (chuckles)
Who knew?
Anything you want to talk about?
Uh...
I've been remembering more from that night.
Tiny things. They don't make any sense,
but I just...
I don't understand why this is happening to me.
Why can't I remember anything?
Because the truth is...
...you watched me kill a man.
And nobody should have to see that.
(exhales)
What?
Ramón's missing a cuff link.
And I think I know how he lost it.
What... That's my scoop!
BRIGHT: Dani? We need to get back to the Kenmare.
Meet me there.
(elevator bell dings)
(bell dings)
Hello?
(soft clattering)
♪ ♪
RAMON: This is gonna ruin me.
(phone vibrating)
Hey.
I think I can prove Ramón hit Lyle.
I found his cuff link on the third floor of the Kenmare.
DANI: Right below the Swanns' apartment.
Which means they really did overhear a fight.
Stay put. I'm almost there.
(footsteps nearby)
-I got to go. -What?
-I think I heard someone. -Bright? Wh...
(phone beeps)
Hello?
Is there someone there?
♪ ♪
(elevator bell dings)
(elevator doors open)
♪ ♪
(footsteps approaching)
(screams)
(bell dings)
-(groans softly) -DANI: How do you feel?
Like I've been pushed down an elevator shaft?
Next time I recommend the stairs.
You've got to be the luckiest guy alive.
I'm thinking we drive down to A.C.,
make a run at the craps tables.
Maybe after we catch the guy who tried to kill me.
That might not take long.
The lab just confirmed Ramón's cuff link
caused the scratch on Lyle's face.
Fantastic.
Now he'll have to talk to us.
Us? You're staying right here.
The doctor said I'm fine. Just a mild concussion.
No, she said it could have been worse. Not the same.
If this guy really did try to kill me,
there's no way I'm missing the part where we cuff him.
Okay, so I hit him.
We had an argument. It got a little heated.
You smacked an employee. I'd say things got a lot heated.
-What'd you fight about? -Was it that he fixed the elevator?
The one you intentionally left broken to drive out
-your tenants? -He shouldn't have done that.
That was a union violation.
Hmm. I didn't take you for such a stickler.
BRIGHT: You're overleveraged, Ramón.
Under a lot of pressure.
If this project falls apart, it could sink you.
You don't know the first thing about my finances.
Well, we read the news. We know a few things.
You had a plan to drive these freeloaders out.
A good plan.
And then Lyle undermined you.
You're under so much stress...
That's when you lost it. Didn't you?
I don't lose!
Ever.
I was just mad because he was schtupping
one of those Warhol wannabes.
Mm, Karina something?
Karina Petrovic?
They were having an affair?
RAMON: It was all very Romeo and Juliet.
She was a starving artist,
he worked for the gentrifying billionaire.
So Lyle gets a girlfriend, grows a conscience.
And that's why you killed him.
If I wanted to kill Lyle, I sure as hell
wouldn't do it in my hotel.
What do you mean?
Right.
The negative press would halt construction.
This murder could end up driving you into bankruptcy.
But you always put business first.
JT: You two
were on fire in there.
He's telling the truth about Karina and Lyle.
-It fits what we observed. -She lied to us.
-(phone vibrating) -She was obviously upset, but the question is:
is it because Lyle died or because she killed him?
JT: You think this could really be a simple lovers' quarrel?
(high-pitched ringing)
Malcolm, are you sure you're all right?
Honestly, it's crazy that you're here right now.
Uh, it's just my head.
Go home.
We'll track down Karina.
Yeah. Thank you.
(laughs softly)
I can make it to family dinner for once.
See you later.
(laughter)
(water pouring)
(gasps) What...
Wow.
Malcolm. We weren't expecting you to make it.
JESSICA: Quelle surprise.
We will add another place setting.
Oh, can I tempt you
with a hibiscus kombucha mocktail?
(laughs)
MARTIN: My boy!
(sniffs)
Mmm.
Smell that.
You know, I'm even better with a marinade
-than I am with a scalpel. -(laughs)
Now... (clears throat) these are a bit rare,
but no one in this family is scared of a little blood, right?
(laughs)
MARTIN: Malcolm?
You look ill.
JESSICA: You all right, darling?
(clinking)
-Are you hydrating enough? -JESSICA: How is your blood sugar?
I made scones.
Do you need a scone?
Uh, I just...
felt really strange for a second.
Like all this was...
wrong, unfamiliar.
-Well, did something happen at work? -You have contusions.
Uh, it's-it's not a big deal.
Um...
I was pushed down an elevator shaft.
(metallic creaking)
A what?
From how high?
Not very.
Three, four floors.
-(gasps) -MARTIN: Well, no wonder.
You have a concussion.
And the clinical term is jamais vu.
-Jamais what? -AINSLEY: The opposite
of déjà vu, when familiar things appear strange or novel.
It's a common symptom of traumatic brain injury.
Look here.
JESSICA: Yeah, but lucky for you,
you are related to two of the best doctors in New York.
(chuckles) Jessie, please.
Ainsley's the talented one. I'm a distant second.
No evidence of cerebral edema. Eyes are PERRLA.
-Oh, no. -Which is a good thing.
Like the filets,
you'll be perfect after you rest a little bit.
-(sighs) -Speaking of which,
dinner is served. Come on.
-(quiet chatter) -(phone vibrating)
Claremont, the mental institution?
Who do you know there?
No one.
MARTIN: You know the rule, Malcolm.
No phones at dinner, okay?
(door closes)
(grunts)
(exhales)
Hey. Are you all right?
I got to get out of here. Or I'm gonna die.
Get out of where?
I don't know.
It must have been a nightmare.
You're home, in bed, safe.
I'm here. Everything's okay.
Okay.
♪ ♪
(metallic creaking)
♪ ♪
♪ Pretty woman ♪
♪ Pass on by... ♪
What's the matter?
You seem so far away.
Oh, it's nothing.
I wouldn't want to bore you with it.
The one thing you never do is bore me.
And we don't keep secrets from each other.
Well, mainly because I'm an amazing detective
and it would be impossible.
Hey, I'm a detective, too.
Mm-hmm, but I'm better.
I just, uh...
have this nagging feeling.
I'm with you, with my family, and I'm happy.
I have everything I want.
But there are moments where I feel
like I don't deserve it.
You deserve all of it, Malcolm Whitly.
You are the best person that I know.
(phone vibrating)
That could be JT with an update.
Okay. It can wait. We're talking.
No, it can't.
This case is important.
I need to solve it.
-(rumbling) -They're all important.
But I've never seen you like this before.
Your-your hand is shaking.
That's new.
(rumbling fades)
Sorry.
I think I'm just...
taking this too personally.
We can unpack my vague existential ennui later.
-I promise. -(phone vibrating)
Unis spotted Karina returning to the Kenmare.
Let's go.
(elevator bell dings)
Karina? We need to talk.
We know about the affair with Lyle.
I don't know what you're talking about.
Don't lie to us again, Karina. Did you try to kill my partner?
-Me, specifically. -KARINA: No.
I didn't kill anyone or try to kill anyone.
What happened with Lyle?
You had a fight that got out of hand?
-He tried to break up with you? -Or maybe you realized
he would always be loyal to Ramón?
No, no.
He was happy. We were happy.
In love, even.
I could never hurt him.
I don't fit your profile.
What did you say?
I mean, I'm not some psycho killer.
DANI: Then why'd you lie to us?
KARINA: Wendell.
I didn't want him to know.
He's in love with you.
I think so.
He's so sensitive. And jealous.
I know it sounds crazy, but...
I don't know what he might have done.
-Where is he? -He was upstairs in the loft,
working on his project.
Sometimes he gets lost in it.
Obsessed.
(typewriter clacking)
Wendell? NYPD.
♪ ♪
(wind whistling)
Wendell, we just want to talk.
We need a bus and backup, now.
Lock down the Kenmare. No one leaves.
WOMAN: Copy that. Additional units and EMS en route.
It's too late.
He's dead.
I guess it's not Wendell.
Do you think Karina did this?
No. She doesn't fit the profile.
I thought we were looking for an inexperienced psychopath,
a-a first-time killer.
-I was wrong. -How do you know?
BRIGHT: The blows are confident.
They were having fun.
We're looking for a serial killer.
(phone vibrating)
Who is this? Why do you keep calling me?
MR. DAVID: There's someone here who's got the answers
you're looking for.
Who?
He'll only talk to you.
Alone.
(lock buzzes, latch clicks)
♪ ♪
MR. DAVID: Just remember, whatever you do,
do not step across the red line.
(latch clicks)
Detective Malcolm Whitly.
So glad you could make it.
Who are you?
I'm a cop. Just like you.
Least, I was.
I saw you during my TV time.
The son of The Surgeon, all grown up?
You know my father.
Better than anyone.
(whispers): I know his little secret.
(sighs)
Do you have information on the Kenmare murders or not?
Ah, I can't help you there.
Working on a cold case.
The Surgeon.
Also known as Dr. Martin Whitly.
My father's a surgeon, he's not The Surgeon.
Then why did you call the cops and say, "My daddy's a killer"?
That never happened.
My father's not a serial killer. That's absurd.
Didn't feel absurd when I showed up at your house.
Drank a cup of piping hot tea.
Woke up three days later...
(laughs): stark raving mad.
(gasps, panting)
(door opens)
GIL: You.
Quite the greeting.
Malcolm,
why are you here?
To learn what you really are.
Oh, I know you.
Oh, you're that deranged police officer
who came to the house,
spouting all those lies.
You tried to ruin my family.
Don't let this lunatic waste another minute of your time.
I'm still there.
I'm still in the bottom of the elevator shaft.
This is all in my head.
Now, you shouldn't joke about that in a place like this.
(chuckles): People might think you belong here.
Let's go home, son.
MARTIN: Malcolm.
Malcolm?
What are we doing here?
Okay, we should really try to get you home.
You know all that Surgeon stuff was pure nonsense.
If I can't wake up, break free of my subconscious,
I'm gonna die down there.
Have you tried pinching yourself?
I was kidding. This is not a dream.
This is just the jamais vu part of your concussion.
Okay? We talked about this.
(speaking indistinctly)
My case.
If I solve my case, it could wake me up.
-What do you mean? -Jung said
that dreams are a way of working through unresolved problems.
I was always more of a Freud man.
Before I was pushed, the most pressing problem on my mind
was the murder of Lyle Reynolds.
Solving that could be the jolt I need.
Okay, my boy, if this is important to you,
then I'm here to help.
You can always count on Dad.
(elevator bell dings)
(indistinct radio chatter)
Oh, I've never been to a crime scene before.
Hey, is Dani here?
-I'd love to see her. -No, let's keep this to ourselves.
-She won't understand. -Not certain I understand,
but sure thing, son.
Mum's the word. This place is amazing.
I heard Duke Ellington used to stay here.
The clues so far, I've been, uh,
encoding, processing information.
I have all the pieces,
and my mind is just trying to put them together.
But I need to not think so concretely.
Because if this were your subconscious,
which, once again, it's definitely not,
you could rely on symbolism.
Exactly.
And, uh, books
often symbolize secret knowledge.
Maybe the answer is in these pages.
A dream in which you read a book? How riveting.
I hope you don't have to change your underwear.
Or maybe it's about Wendell's knowledge.
-Something he learned. -Hmm.
How about that? That anything?
BRIGHT: Boots.
I saw someone wearing boots.
Th-The woman in the elevator. What was her name?
Uh... Greta.
Uh, Greta...
...Swann.
That sculpture has changed.
Oh, my God. My subconscious has been screaming at me
this whole time.
I've been seeing swans everywhere.
The pitcher,
the painting,
the cuff link.
Rather literal, but, uh, to paraphrase my man Sigmund,
"Sometimes a swan is just a Swann."
They were signals from my brain.
I don't know if that will hold up in court, but I love it.
Hey, fellas.
Dani's been looking for you.
She seemed worried.
I was following up on a lead.
JT: All good.
Doc, thanks again for the pointers on my backswing.
Shaved three strokes off my handicap.
Oh, great to hear that, JT.
(quietly): I'm very concerned about Malcolm.
I think he may be having a psychotic break.
I'm gonna need your help.
Malcolm?
Greta Swann? Open up.
Looking for my daughter?
She's not here.
I need to see her boots.
I can't let you do that. I'm very protective of her.
And her boots.
You were after something in Wendell's book.
WENDELL: One of the Bowery Ripper's victims disappeared
from a party down the hall in 1963.
BRIGHT: Let me guess.
The Bowery Ripper.
A real serial killer deep cut.
It all fits.
He hunted in this neighborhood.
He killed with found objects.
And he was never caught.
I was looking for the wrong Swann.
Everyone makes mistakes.
MARTIN: Malcolm, there you are.
You cannot keep running off.
Dad, stay back!
(gasps)
(elevator whirring)
BRIGHT: Rupert.
Rupert, you don't have to do this.
Don't follow me.
Do something, Malcolm.
(elevator whirring)
Why did you kill again?
After all these years?
Was Lyle going to expose you?
I can't let my daughter know what I was.
MARTIN: Hmm, yes,
uh, protecting your family
is a powerful motivator.
Speaking of which, Malcolm...
-Not another step. -Malcolm, please.
You're a detective.
You're right.
I'm a detective.
I have a gun.
(elevator bell dings)
Move!
(grunts)
(loud thud echoes)
(panting)
Well done, my boy.
I'm still here.
Great shot.
Why am I still here?
-I solved the case. -Malcolm, you got the killer.
Saved my life.
And now everything's okay.
Isn't it?
Isn't it, my boy?
Yes.
Everything's fine.
♪ Please ♪
♪ Don't let it get to you... ♪
Whoa-ho-ho.
You should have seen our son.
He was magnificent.
Truly heroic.
It was a group effort.
-Couldn't have done it without you. -Aw.
You sure you're feeling better?
So much better. Those strange headaches have stopped.
What a relief.
I don't know who I am prouder of,
my daughter following in her father's footsteps,
or my son forging his own way in the world.
Not that it's a competition.
(laughter)
♪ Even when it don't make sense ♪
♪ Even when it don't make sense... ♪
(voices fade and echo)
Malcolm, you should invite Dani
to join in our celebrations; we'd love to see her.
I will. She's just finishing up at the precinct.
Oh, she has been such a good influence on you, Malcolm.
She already feels like part of the family.
Maybe one day soon we will make it official.
AINSLEY: She's a keeper, Malcolm. Don't screw it up.
Wouldn't dream of it.
I'm going to, uh, replenish the snacks.
Oh, Malcolm?
Don't forget the tiny pickles.
Coming right up.
You're the best, big brother.
YOUNG BRIGHT: Dad.
Why are you so determined to wake up anyway?
I know what I have to do now.
But life is good here.
We're one big, happy family.
Your sister isn't a killer, I'm not a killer.
You got a great job,
a happy relationship, and there's even cocoa.
Why would you ever want to leave?
Because it's all a lie.
(banging, rattling)
This dream, vision,
alternate reality, whatever...
I thought it was what life would be like
if you weren't a killer.
But it's not.
It's what life would be if I'd never found out.
(banging, rattling)
It really seems more of a semantic point.
Suffering is real.
Even if I don't open the box,
the woman in there is still in pain.
Now, Herr Schrodinger might disagree with you on that.
This is who I am, Dr. Whitly.
(rattling)
Even in my wildest dream,
I'm still a detective; I need to seek the truth.
No matter how painful.
Oh, that's nice. Yeah.
Though, for someone so hellbent on uncovering secrets,
you sure do have a lot of your own.
You're right.
I need to work on that.
Dani won't be there.
Not like she is here.
Son, stay.
Stay for her.
A partner you can actually be honest with?
You'll never have that if you open that box.
It's your fault.
You made me this way.
Well, you can point fingers as much as you want,
but when you're miserable and alone, remember
you had a choice.
No, I didn't.
DANI: Bright!
(creaking)
Hi.
(electricity crackles)
(panting)
Thanks for the help.
-Bright? -You okay?
When was the last time I talked to you?
Like, 20 minutes ago.
♪ Please ♪
Is that a human skull?
♪ Don't let it get to you... ♪
I know who the killer is.
How?
Long story.
♪ It's still all up to you... ♪
Is your father home?
Yeah, we're about to have dinner. Is something the matter?
♪ Even if you don't realize it ♪
♪ It's still all up to you ♪
I believe this belongs to you.
-Are you sure about this? -I have no idea.
What the hell is that?
(scoffs)
BRIGHT: Over 40 years.
You thought they'd never catch the Bowery Ripper.
♪ Even when it don't make sense... ♪
Till Lyle fixed an elevator
and found this little souvenir.
♪ When it don't make sense... ♪
Dad. Dad, what's he talking about?
♪ Don't let it get to you ♪
♪ I know that you won't realize it ♪
♪ But it's still... ♪
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Dad?
♪ But it's still all up to you. ♪
Dad, what's happening?
DANI: You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say can and will be...
♪ ♪
That place really was haunted.
(chuckles)
In my experience,
people are always scarier than ghosts.
(chuckles)
I still can't believe that you solved a murder in a dream.
The subconscious mind is a powerful thing.
Mm-hmm.
Sherlock Freud cracks another one.
Gil didn't seem too pleased you said he was at Claremont.
I'm not sure why. He really pulled off a cardigan.
That man will be buried in a turtleneck.
Right.
What about me?
Was I, I don't know, different in your dream?
Yes.
And no.
What does that mean?
Dream stuff. It's complicated.
I wouldn't want to bore you with it.
The one thing you never do is bore me.
Good night, Malcolm.
Good night.
Malcolm. You're home.
Thanks for meeting me.
I know it's late,
but this is important.
Earlier you asked me why your memories didn't make sense.
I've been lying to you, Ains.
For a while.
Uh, Ainsley...
I don't know how else to say this.
You killed Nicholas Endicott.
I told you it was me because I wanted to protect you,
to help you... but I was wrong.
You have a right to know.
I'm sorry I lied, but I'm here for you,
and everything's going to be all right.
No... it's not.
I don't know what happened.
I blacked out again.
I'm sorry.
I didn't know where else to go.
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And FORD. We go further, so you can.
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MAN: Greg, move your head.