03x08 - Prologue

[bunniefuu]

Daniel: Imagine yourself in 20 years.

Will you be living with your college sweetheart, 2.4 kids, behind the proverbial white-picket fence?

Will you be the next dot-com billionaire?

Or will you be sleeping it off in an alley somewhere?

[Light laughter]

When you think about yourself right now, a very specific area of the ventromedial prefrontal cortex is activated.

But for some of you, when you think about the person you'll be in 20 years or even tomorrow, the brain reacts almost exactly the way it does when you think about somebody else.

That could be a problem because people who think of their future selves as a different person aren't likely to buy insurance or save for retirement.

Why bother?

Blow off your studies.

Stay up all night, have a few more drinks.

That homework isn't your problem, it's future-you's problem.

Let that assh*le deal with it.

[Light laughter]

Some hikers in Libertyville stumbled across a decomposed body in the woods yesterday.

The M.E. I.D.'d it on dental records.

Special Agent Anne-Marie Bishop.

She's been missing almost five years.

She joined the Chicago office around the time I left for D.C.

Now, I know that you stopped consulting then, but do you remember her?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I-I, uh...

I met her at your going-away shindig.

Dr. Pierce, I'd like you to meet Special Agent Bishop.

She's gonna be your new liaison now that Moretti's moving on to greener pastures.

I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Pierce. Looking forward to working with you.

Th-th-there's on... there's only one person in this bloated bureaucracy that I'm willing to work with, and you are not her. I quit.

[Laughter in distance]

Phil: You can use that in Washington.

"The carnivore's guide to D.C."

Huh?

[Laughter] Thank you, Phil.

The thinking was that Agent Bishop was kidnapped by a one Larry Ulrich, a drug dealer whose prosecution she was working on.

The bureau ultimately nailed Ulrich on drug charges, but they were never able to pin Bishop's kidnapping on him.

No C.O.D. yet.

The M.E. did find hair follicles. They're putting a rush on the toxicology.

But when I was going through Bishop's case files, I did find this.

"Call Dr. Pierce, Re: Lindsay."

Now, did she ever try to get in touch with you about the case that she was working on?

I-I... I'm sorry, I c-ca... I can't help you with this one.

So, you don't know a Lindsay or why Bishop would have been meaning to call you?

I [Chuckles]

I'm sorry, I've got a huge day.

Daniel, are you all right?

Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine. It's just...

I'm just... ugh.

Okay. Well, then, I'm sorry to have bothered you.

[Sniffs]

Hey.

Daniel, you made it.

I got your message.

I didn't think you would be leaving so soon.

Well, the assistant director wants me in D.C. first thing, so...

Well, I just wanted to say goodbye and... And good luck.

[Glass clinks]

I would like to propose a toast.

To Kate Moretti, future director of the bureau.

Oh, come on, Phil. Come on.

Huh?

Man: Ooh! Yeah!

You know you're gonna be the next J. Edgar!

S03E08
"Prologue"

Natalie!

Natalie?

Natalie!

What's wrong, Doc?

I need to talk to Natalie.

Doesn't she just show up when you want her to?

Not since I sent her away.

Okay, I don't understand.

I don't either, exactly.

But that jackass Rosenthal convinced me that I should try to get along without her, so I asked her to leave, and I haven't seen her since, and now I'm screwed.

Doc, does this have something to do with Agent Bishop?

What do you know about it?

Well, I saw on the news tonight they found her body.

And when you were first admitted to Rexford, you screamed about her being kidnapped, that whoever did it was coming after you next.

Max: Dr. Rosen... Dr. Rosen...

Dr. Rosenthal! I can't stay here!

Doctor, we need you in here.

He'll k*ll all of you, just to get to me, like he did with Bishop.

Don't you understand? I... you've got to let me go!

What is that? No! No needle!

I was delusional at Rexford, Lewicki. You know that.

Well, maybe you should talk to Dr. Rosenthal.

He helped you put this thing behind you the first time.

We can go see him first thing in the morning.

I hate being back in this dungeon.

Let's just go see him later at his regular office.

Doc, you agreed to see him right away.

This is the only time he could squeeze you in, okay?

Look, just chill out, and I'll go get you some tea.

All right.

Man: [Muttering] Socializing. Maybe I don't want to be social.

Put me in a room with other people, well...

What am I supposed to talk to them about?

Mr. Johnson, it's dinnertime.

Daniel: Would it k*ll you people to serve some fresh fruit for a change?

Some cantaloupe or grapefruit.

Uh... Dr. Pierce, I...

I know it's against hospital policy, but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind signing this.

You read this?

I've read all your books.

I used to study psychology at Illinois State.

And now you empty bed pans.

Ran out of money.

But... but I am going back to school.

I'm working doubles here, and weekends...

I know you. You're one of those Jack-booted Nazis who tied me to my bed last week.

I'm not signing your damn book.

Get the hell out of here.

[Sighs]

You know, uh, there's a farmer's market every Tuesday near my bus stop.

It's all organic.

Be happy to pick something up for you.

What's your name?

Max. Max Lewicki.

Bullshit. No, really.

My parents are Polish immigrants.

All right, Max Lewicki.

You bring me some organic fruit, I'll think about signing your book.

It's starting up again.

What's starting?

The case.

The case! The one I never solved. The one that... that drove me into your g*dd*mn loony bin.

They found Agent Bishop's body.

Kate asked me to consult.

And what did you tell her?

I told her no.

But... [Sighs]

I mean, wh-what if the coroner's report comes back a-and it turns out Bishop d*ed the same way as all the others?

Daniel, we've been working together on and off for, what, five years?

I know you think that working on these investigations helps keep your mind focused.

Maybe you're right.

This particular case... It's dangerous for you.

You go down this path, you could decompensate again and wind up back here in a locked ward, instead of my office.

You're right.

You're right.

I, uh... I have to...

I have to stay out of it.

[Knock on door]

Daniel. What is it?

Kate, I've got to help you with this case.

When... when... when you left for D.C., I... I was done with consulting.

I just... I concentrated on teaching neuroscience to upper-middle-class slackers.

A few months later, I got a visit from Agent Bishop.

Dr. Pierce.

I was wondering if I could borrow you for an hour?

What part of "I quit" didn't you understand?

I just need you to come downtown and talk to someone...

A witness in a big drug case.

Well, as you can see, I'm busy erasing my chalkboard.

This witness... he's bipolar.

I understand you have a soft spot for the head cases.

Justin Biggs.

Computer prodigy, former heroin addict.

He was a system admin for an online narcotics market.

Kind of like the druggie version of Amazon.com.

I don't know what that is.

Justin cut a deal...

Turned state's evidence, got into treatment.

But when his court date came, he was a no-show.

For three days, no one could find him.

And without the government's star witness, the judge declared a mistrial and the dealer walked.

This morning, Justin was found sleeping on a bench in Columbus Park.

He told some crazy story about being kidnapped and held c*ptive and being sh*t full of heroin.

Well, it sounds like your star witness fell off the wagon.

The A.U.S.A. thinks he's making the whole story up.

They're gonna throw the book at this kid.

But I think that maybe the dealer hired someone to kidnap Justin, to... to sit on him for a couple days so that he couldn't testify.

Or maybe he had some kind of psychotic break.

That can happen with someone with bipolar disorder, right?

If they're manic, yeah.

If you don't talk to him, Justin is going away, and what kind of hell is he gonna get in federal prison?

Daniel: So, I went to see him.

I went out the other night to grab a pack of smokes, and someone grabs me from behind and puts something over my mouth.

Next thing I know, I-I-I'm tied to a chair and this guy is sitting in front of me.

What did he look like?

I-it was really blurry.

My glasses got knocked off when I was grabbed.

The FBI lady lent me these.

I understand you tested positive for heroin.

I know what everyone thinks.

Okay, but this guy... he's real.

He was the one who sh*t me up, over and over.

And each time, he'd ask me all kinds of questions.

What questions?

I don't know, like...

Like he's a-a cop interrogating me or something.

Look, this is no nickel bag of lemonade, here.

This stuff is pure.

I-I pretended to pass out, and when he left me alone, I busted the hell out of there.

Next thing I know, a couple of cops are waking me up on a bench.

His story had none of the hallmarks of psychosis, so I told Bishop I-I-I thought she was right.

Justin had been abducted.

But I didn't think it had anything to do with this drug dealer or his trial.

Why not?

Why would a big-time dealer bother to kidnap this kid?

I mean, why not just k*ll him?

Well, maybe the drug dealer had a soft spot for Justin.

He had made him a lot of money.

Which is exactly what Bishop said.

So if it wasn't the dealer, who are you suggesting kidnapped Justin?

I don't know. Let's find out.

Hold on. So we're clear...

It's your professional opinion that Justin is telling the truth about being abducted, is that correct?

Yes, but...

Thank you very much, Dr. Pierce.

Wait... wait, so that's it?

I told you an hour of your time.

But wait, you can't just tangle a puzzle in front of me and not let me solve it.

I called you in for a consult, not to play Mulder and Scully.

Play what?

A few weeks later, I read in the paper about this rash of overdoses...

People turning up dead, needles still in their arms.

The syringes contain residue of pharmaceutical-grade heroin.

Now, according to the story, some of these fatalities were first-time users and, like Justin, they disappeared for a couple of days before their bodies were found.

So I started doing some digging on my own, talked to the families.

Turns out a lot of these victims had been diagnosed with serious mental disorders...

Bipolar, borderline personality, schizophrenia.

So I went to Bishop. I told her what I had found.

A serial k*ller?

Yes, yes.

He's targeting the mentally ill, sh**ting them up with heroin, and interrogating them.

Why?

I don't know.

Maybe he's some sicko that likes chatting up his victims before he kills them. It doesn't matter.

The point is, it's the perfect m*rder...

Leave the bodies in the street with a needle full of heroin in their arm and police just think that they're a bunch of junkies who O.D.'d.

Okay, what am I supposed to do with this?

Look, the coroner won't return my calls.

Just ask him how many other O.D. cases like this are out there.

W-w-we find the pattern, we figure out this guy's M.O., we can catch the son of a bitch.

I don't know. It's thin.

If there's even a chance that I'm right about this...

You want these deaths on your conscience?

A week later, Bishop finally got back to me.

[Telephone rings]

Hello?

Anne-Marie: It's Bishop.

I think there may be something to your theory after all.

Meet me in the office first thing so we can talk about it.

But she never showed.

Because she was abducted.

I figured the k*ller must have realized that Bishop was on to him, so he grabbed her and whatever evidence she'd come up with.

I tried to tell her boss, but he didn't want to hear it.

I don't know anything about any serial k*ller.

Agent Bishop had her hands full with the Ulrich prosecution.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to update the press.

Thank you all for coming.

As you know, FBI Special Agent Anne-Marie Bishop was abducted from her home last night.

Today, we're announcing a $1 million reward for information leading to her safe return.

Agent Bishop was the victim of a serial k*ller who is targeting people with psychiatric conditions.

He's overdosing them on heroin and making the murders appear to...

Hey! This k*ller is real!

And if the FBI doesn't wake up, more people are gonna die!

I had no idea you were working with Bishop.

Why didn't you call me? I might have been able to help.

Well, actually, I did call.

Someone there told me you'd get right back to me, but I never heard from you.

Oh, my God.

Moretti, Dr. Pierce, line 3.

Kathryn Rose Moretti, as I live and breathe.

Donnie Ryan.

You must have emptied a lot of tip jars to be able to afford that suit.

I gave up bartending a while ago. I'm at main justice now.

But look at you...

Special Agent, Washington office.

Well...

Moretti? You taking the call or not?

Uh, do me a favor... tell Dr. Pierce I'll call him right back.

So, what are you doing later toght?

Kate: Daniel, I...

I'm so sorry. You're right.

I just forgot.

That's okay.

I know... I know you were busy.

Any... anyway, after the press conference, I just...

I started to get more and more paranoid.

I-I-I figured if the k*ller had been watching, I'd basically told him that I was on to him, too.

And if he could get to Bishop, he could certainly get to me.

Daniel, you need to stop and think.

Maybe there never was a serial k*ller.

Maybe Agent Bishop was taken by that drug dealer.

Bullshit! She called me, remember?

She... she told me I was on to something.

How do you know you didn't hallucinate that phone call?

There was no one else in the house.

You know you shouldn't live alone.

[Knock on door] Man: Daniel!

Shh, shh, shh!

You in there?

Daniel!

Get back!

Daniel! Daniel, stop!

Daniel, stop, it's me.

It's Paul.

Call an ambulance.

Daniel: Paul rode with me to the E.R.

The docs at County pumped me full of anti-psychotics.

I would have got stuck in that hell hole, but at the last minute, a bed opened up at Rexford.

I was there for almost six months.

And that's when you told everyone that you were on sabbatical.

Yeah.

That's the cover story Paul cooked up so that nobody would know I was in the nut house.

That must have been awful for you.

Well, at least it helped me get over my serial-k*ller delusion.

Yeah, until I showed up and made you relive the whole thing.

[Cellphone rings]

[Sighs]

Moretti.

Yeah.

Thank you.

That was the M.E. Bishop's toxicology just came back.

It's consistent with metabolized heroin.

I-I-I was right.

No, it still could have been this drug dealer.

He had motive. Bishop wouldn't stop hounding him.

He certainly had access to the dr*gs.

Oh, come on, Kate, I put Bishop onto a serial k*ller, and a week later, she's abducted and O.D.'d, too?

Daniel, if you get mixed up in this case again...

I-I know I might go crazy, but if I don't solve it, I'll go crazy for sure.

But I don't understand. I thought Agent Bishop was k*lled by that drug dealer she was investigating.

We're working on an alternate theory.

Do you remember her asking you for information on a rash of heroin O.D.s?

She wanted a list of all the overdoses in cook county the previous year, but she was only interested in people who tested positive for heroin and no other illegal substances.

Any of those people named Lindsay?

Here... here we go.

Lindsay Hansen... found November 12, 2008.

Sounds like our girl.

Man: Junkies can't quit, man.

We need our fix.

Um...

This...this list only goes through may 2009.

Well, sure, that's when Bishop came to me.

How many O.D.s have there been since then that fit the criteria?

No idea. I mean, I can check for you, but it's gonna take a few hours.

Also, if you could give us the name of Lindsay's next of kin.

Oh, sure.

Kate: To your knowledge, had your daughter ever used heroin before?

Good God, no.

I told Agent Bishop the same thing.

Lindsay was scared to death of needles.

Mrs. Hansen, w-w-we know that Lindsay was found on... on November 12, 2008.

When was the last time you saw her?

Three days before.

I kissed her... goodbye.

And, uh, I went to work.

The lady who used to live next door called the police because Lindsay was shouting, she broke a window.

The... The police recognized that she was sick, that she did not need to be arrested, she needed an ambulance.

But the hospital didn't have any available beds, so they called me to pick her up. But by the time I got there, she was gone.

She was streeted.

That's what they call it... streeting.

This... this is what happens when billions of dollars are cut from mental-health services. People like Lindsay wind up either with nowhere to go or, worse, in prison.

I mean, politicians always seem to find...

Daniel, please. Okay?

When... when...

Can you remember anything else that you and Agent Bishop discussed when she came to see you?

Uh...She was trying to figure out what happened to Lindsay after she left the hospital.

She asked me if Lindsay had any friends...

[Voice breaking] That she might have gone to see, but I told her that...

Lindsay didn't have anybody except me.

Daniel: Poor woman.

We need to follow up with those cops who called the ambulance, see where that neighbor moved to, find out if anyone at the hospital remembers talking to Lindsay.

[Cellphone rings]

[Sighs] It's Dr. Swank.

Dr. Swank.

Swank: Your professor friend was right.

It looks like these O.D.s didn't stop in 2009.

I found a couple dozen more that fit your criteria.

Highly potent heroin, no other dr*gs in their system.

When was the most recent case?

About a month ago.

Unresponsive white male in an alley off north Broadway.

No sign of foul play, just another junkie with a needle in his arm.

Any witnesses?

Yeah, an old lady said she got the license number of the car that dumped the body.

Well, did you put out a bolo?

Nah, the old lady was nuts.

She said the car appeared out of thin air, like magic.

She couldn't have seen anything.

How do you know that?

She was blind as a bat.

Excuse me, ma'am?

Oh! You shouldn't sneak up on people like that.

I'm so very sorry.

But are you Stacia Clairborne?

For the last 73 years.

I'm Agent Kate Moretti with the FBI.

And I-I'm Dr. Daniel Pierce.

We were hoping to talk to you about the body that was found behind your building last month.

I tried to tell that freckle-faced cop what I saw, but he would not listen.

So, you can see?

Well, sure, when things stop zipping around at a hundred miles an hour.

Can you see this?

See what?

How about now?

I'm not a palm reader, young man.

You have Akinetopsia.

I don't know what it's called, but I do just fine as long as I have my cane to make sure that nobody tries to run into me.

It's also known as motion blindness.

Your brain can't perceive moving objects, but when everything's still, her vision's fine.

So, can you tell us what happened the night you saw the body?

I was taking out the rubbish when I heard a car.

Cars make me nervous because I can't see them coming.

All of a sudden, this big, old car just popped out of nowhere, and then it was gone.

And then there was this body lying there.

Now, I understand you saw the license plate.

Can you remember what it was?

NCC 1764.

I may have trouble seeing, but there's nothing wrong with my memory.

You son of a bitch.

Rosenthal: Daniel.

I wasn't aware we had an appointment today.

That serial k*ller was not a paranoid delusion, Josiah.

He's real.

I thought you decided not to work on this case.

An eye-witness saw someone dump a body... A heroin overdose, thank you very much... from... from an S.U.V. with stolen plates.

The police are all over it finally.

But if I... if I hadn't let you convince me that I was imagining things, then some of this guy's victims would still be alive.

I see. You feel this is my fault.

Yes, I think it's your fault.

And mine, for listening to you.

Daniel, if what you're saying is true and this person is still out there k*lling people, then, obviously, I regret any part I may have inadvertently played in preventing the FBI from catching him.

But I'm not responsible for this k*ller's actions.

Any more than you are.

You know, wh... Maybe you can wash your hands of it, but... but I can't.

So you came here to what?

Tell me you were right and I was wrong?

No.

I came here to fire you.

[Clatter]

Lewicki. Lewicki!

Doc, what is it?

There's someone out there.

All clear.

It's gonna be all right, Doc. It's gonna be all right.

Rosenthal: It'll be all right. It'll be all right. It'll be all right, Daniel.

Just take your meds, and I'll see you for your first outpatient appointment next week.

I'll make sure he gets there.

I don't need you babysitting me, Paul.

What are you gonna do, take a bus?

You need someone to look after you, Daniel.

Doc, hey. Glad I caught you. Um...

This'll tide you over till you can get to the market.

You want a job?

Doc, are you okay?

I know I ask a lot of you, Max.

You know, keeping me on schedule, finding obscure cassette tapes, going to the ends of the earth for organic grapefruit.

You don't have to...

Yes, just... I do.

Let me...

I just want to say I appreciate it.

[Sighs]

It's not organic.

What?

Your grapefruit.

I bought it at the Pick n' Save.

Commercially farmed, probably full of pesticides.

And how long has this little deception of yours been going on?

Not that long.

Okay, a couple years, maybe. Oh, are you...

But... but... but, doc, you... you always complained about the organic being bitter or bruised.

And this is a lot cheaper. So I just...

[doorbell rings]

I'm gonna go get that.

Don't bother. Don't bother.

You're fired.

Again?

A trooper spotted our S.U.V. with stolen plates headed south on state road 50.

When he tried to pull it over, it took off.

Don't tell me the k*ller got away.

I'm afraid so.

He pushed a woman out of the vehicle into traffic.

She was bound and gagged.

The police had to stop to avoid hitting her.

She's pretty banged up, but she's alive.

I was on my way home from the clinic when someone grabbed me from behind.

He put something over my mouth.

I couldn't breathe.

And then everything went black.

When I woke up, I-I-I couldn't see. There was something over my head.

But I knew I was in a car, and we were going really fast.

[Voice breaking] I thought I was going to die.

And I begged him, "please, let me go.

I promise I won't tell anyone."

It's okay. You're safe now.

Tasha, you said you were going home from a clinic?

Do you have a mental-health diagnosis?

What are you saying? Do you think I'm crazy?

No, we don't think you're crazy.

You don't believe me?

No. We believe you. But we think the man who att*cked you has been targeting people with mental illnesses.

I see a shrink.

This man who took me...

He said that people like me were dangerous, that... that some lunatic m*rder*d his little girl.

Stabbed her to death on the playground with three other kids, as well.

And I told him I would never do that, but he said he couldn't take the chance.

He had to k*ll us all.

Kate: Arthur Ross Johnson...

Barbecued a neighbor's cat when he was 10 years old, in and out of prisons and psych wards ever since until six years ago, when he walked onto a school playground and took a butcher Kn*fe to a group of first graders.

Donnie: I remember.

Seven injured, three dead.

Including...

Allison Duxbury, age 6.

At the time of the trial, her father, Ted, went to the courthouse and...

Arthur Ross Johnson!I'm gonna k*ll you!

I'm gonna k*ll you for what you did to my little girl, you crazy son of a bitch!

He didn't succeed in taking out his daughter's m*rder*r, but...

But you think he's taking out his rage by tracking down other mentally ill people and k*lling them.

The playground murders match the story the k*ller told the woman he threw out of the car.

I'll get you a warrant.

Ted: So, someone's been k*lling a bunch of wackos.

It sounds like they're performing a public service.

So that's what you've been doing, cleaning up the streets?

I wish I could take the credit.

Look, Mr. Duxbury, what happened to Allison was a tragedy.

I can understand your anger.

You got kids, Mr. Ryan?

No, not yet.

Well, when you do, and your precious little angel gets knifed by a lunatic, then you'll understand my anger.

Columbine, Virginia Tech, Sandy Hook...

That's a lot of dead sons and daughters, m*rder*d by crazy people who should've been locked away where they couldn't hurt kids.

The way Arthur Ross Johnson, the scumbag who knifed your daughter, is locked away?

Because I hear he's living it up in Jerseyville Psych, getting three hot meals and cable TV.

Where's the justice in that?

Hey, damn right!

I'm glad someone's taking a stand.

That someone being you.

We found three kilograms of pharmaceutical-grade heroin taped behind your water heater.

I want a lawyer.

Great work, pal.

Did... [Sighs]

Hey, hey. D-d-doesn't it seem a-a tad too easy, the way he fell into our laps?

K*llers make mistakes, too.

I know, but look at this guy. He hates people with mental illness.

If he was k*lling them, he'd just...

He'd just bash their diseased brains in with a brick.

Why use heroin? It makes people euphoric.

We found the dr*gs.

Yeah, yeah. And...

What about... what about that?

Where... where does a guy like this get his hands on pharmaceutical-grade narcotics?

Well, probably off the Internet, off one of those drug sites.

Every time we shut one down, another one just pops up.

O-okay, what about the car?

Well, he probably ditched it.

But we'll find it.

But what if the real k*ller is framing Duxbury? Think... think about it!

This guy's the perfect patsy.

So, what are you saying? That Tasha lied?

No, no, no. I-I-I-I don't know.

M-maybe the k*ller fed her misinformation.

All I'm saying is, the guy we're looking for, we're dealing with a brilliant mind, here.

Hell of a lot smarter than you, that's for damn sure.

Would you shut up?

Excuse me?

Not... not... not you, Kate.

Are you all right?

Do I look all right?

I'm certifiable.

Somebody should get a court order and lock me up before I hurt someone.

Get the hell away from me.

Daniel, I think that we need to take you home.

There's nothing for you there.

Lewicki's useless, Natalie's gone.

You need... you need to see Rosenthal.

Screw Rosenthal!

You know what? Let's go. Let's just go.

It's the only way you're gonna stop yourself from ending up like me.

Daniel.

Hey.

You're right.

I need to see my doctor.

I'm glad you came back, Daniel.

You're reaching out. That's a good sign.

Tell me what's been going on since our lest session.

It's all here. It's all right here.

The serial k*ller abducted a woman named Tasha Ogden, but when the cops spotted his S.U.V., he threw her out and escaped.

Tasha knew just enough about her abductor that we were able to identify a man named Ted Duxbury.

That's wonderful news.

There's only one problem... Ted Duxbury is not the k*ller.

Daniel, you're... you're spiraling.

You just said that the evidence points to this man.

Yeah, yeah, I need you to work with me here. Okay?

Okay. The real k*ller's... is ingenious.

He's so ingenious that he was able to k*ll people for years, and everybody thought that these murders were accidental overdoses.

You see, he's, uh...

He's... he's subtle. He's subtle.

So why, after all this time, would he do something as crass and obvious as abducting a woman right after Bishop was found?

If anything, he'd... he'd lie low for a while.

Maybe k*lling is a compulsion he can't resist.

I mean, in the same way that you feel compelled to keep investigating cases that have already been solved.

The k*ller wanted us to find Duxbury.

Don't you see?

Daniel, I don't know much about criminal investigations, but what you're saying, it just... it sounds... implausible.

The k*ller... The k*ller needed someone with a motive, and Duxbury had that in spades.

The... the... the att*ck on his daughter in the playground, that was big news.

But it became even bigger when...

When he tried to take justice into his own hands, you see?

So, once... so, once... once the k*ller found out that we were looking for his S.U.V...

That doesn't... that's not possible.

We didn't release that information to the media.

How could he have known that?

He couldn't. So your theory must be wrong.

I told you about the S.U.V.

Daniel, what are you implying?

[Scoffs]

It all adds up. I... you...

You... you did everything you could to convince that this k*ller was a figment of my imagination.

You told me I'd never get healthy again unless I could let it all go.

You're the serial k*ller.

Daniel, you understand the patient/therapist relationship as well as anyone.

You're projecting your feelings for the m*rder*r onto me.

I mean, you're drawing connections that just aren't there.

No. No, you are not gonna talk me out of it this time.

You planted... you planted that heroin in Duxbury's basement.

Then you abducted Tasha and filled her head with a bunch of lies.

She never did get a look at you.

And then... then... you drove around waiting for the cops to spot your stolen plates.

When they did, you threw her out, knowing... knowing that she would implicate Duxbury. That's...

That's a brilliant plan.

There are, what...

Five million people in the greater Chicago area?

How likely is it, in a city of this size, that the k*ller just happens to be your therapist?

You're right.

You're right, it couldn't be a coincidence.

I'll bet you saw me on the news.

Yeah. [Scoffs] Must have been...

Must have been quite a relief when... When... when the FBI blamed a drug dealer for Bishop's disappearance.

But then I stupidly jump up there and say, "No, no, they're wrong! They're wrong!

"She was abducted by a... By a serial k*ller, and I promise to find him."

To find you.

You realized I was a thr*at, so you...

You must have... You must have gone looking for me.

Couldn't have been that hard to figure out who I was or where I worked.

And then what? Then what?

What'd, you... what'd, you stalk me?

Just like you did all your other victims, waiting for the right moment?

I mean, my God, I even... I even fit your profile.

You were gonna k*ll me.

But you weren't abducted, Daniel.

No. No, you didn't have to kidnap me.

I came to you.

B-before you could make your move, I had a psychotic break.

The E.M.T.s took me to the closest emergency room at County General.

But there were no beds available in their psych ward.

And then, magically, one opened up right here.

Right here at Rexford, a hospital where you had privileges, and you made damn sure that you were assigned my case.

It sounds like an ingenious plan.

[Scoffs]

But this is where your delusion reveals itself.

If I were this person you imagine, this serial k*ller, why would I go to the trouble to take you under my care?

Why wouldn't I just k*ll you?

I don't know. I don't know.

Maybe... maybe once you knew my diagnosis, once you saw how crazy I was, you figured I couldn't possibly be a thr*at.

Or maybe... maybe you thought it'd be an interesting professional challenge to see if you could... If you could cure me of my delusion.

The one thing I don't get... How someone like you, who's dedicated his life to the mentally ill...

Could end up hating us so much that you'd want to k*ll us.

No one knows better than you how... how terribly overwhelmed the mental-healthcare system is in this country, how little money is devoted to clinical research.

So many people fall through the cracks, and they lead miserable, wretched lives.

Some even turn violent.

One could make the argument that these so-called victims are better off.

That's why you used heroin.

These were mercy killings to you.

Daniel, I'm just trying to show you it's just another paranoid delusion.

What you're saying is theory and conjecture.

There isn't a shred of evidence to back it up.

You're right. There is no evidence.

Yet. But it's out there.

It's out there, Josiah. I'm... I'm... I'm gonna figure out where you purchased that heroin.

Or I'm gonna... I'm gonna link you to the S.U.V.

You know, maybe... I-I-it wouldn't surprise me to find out that you... That you have privileges at County General, too.

Maybe you were working in their psych ward that night when Lindsay came in, but because you had no bed for her, because you felt sorry for her, you followed her out into the street a-a-and you... and you put her out of her misery.

I'll bet that... I'll bet that is what Bishop found out.

Huh?

I'm never gonna stop looking, Josiah.

What if you do find the evidence?

Who do you think they're gonna believe?

Me or the schizophrenic?

Kate will believe me.

One way or another, you're going down.

[Sighs]

Your treatment was going so well.

[Sighs]

Code red. This is Dr. Rosenthal.

My patient has just att*cked me.

I'm losing blood. Please hurry.

We have a lot of work to do together, Daniel.

You're not going anywhere for a long time.

Hands up right now.

This patient att*cked me.

No, actually, he didn't. We saw the whole thing.

We were hoping you'd confess, but you did us one better.

You know I wanted to help you, Daniel.

Yeah, I... I think I'm gonna find a new therapist.

Kate: Get him out of here.

Agents from the Federal Bureau of Investigation ex*cuted a search warrant on the residence of Dr. Josiah Rosenthal, where they recovered a journal detailing the abduction, interrogation, and m*rder of 13 victims.

Based on this evidence, I have indicted Dr. Rosenthal on multiple counts of first-degree m*rder with special circumstance.

This brings to an end...

...the crimes of one of Chicago's most prolific serial K*llers.

Agent Hess will take your questions.

Thank you.

[Indistinct shouting]

Donnie.

Shelby.

Call me.

Daniel: One popular definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome.

When you binge-eat a pint of chunky monkey, you see the negative results when you step on the scale.

So, when you go to the freezer to grab another one, you should remember that negative consequence and resist.

But you don't.

Why?

Because you can't forget the rush of pleasure, the dopamine that floods your nucleus accumbens, and you reach for the closest one.

Compulsively repeating dangerous behavior is easy.

Breaking those patterns is hard.

Can we at least recognize the symptoms?

Admit our mistakes and try to turn over a new neurological leaf?

If the past is prologue, is our script written in permanent ink?

Can we learn from our history... Or are we doomed to repeat it?