05x16 - The Capricorn k*ller

[bunniefuu]

♪ Phalen: Agent Graves?

Sergeant Phalen.

State Police.

We spoke on the phone.

Yes, sir.

This way.

So, when did this happen?

Just after 6:00 last night.

A young couple staying at the lodge went out for a hike straight off one of the trails.

Bradford PD got the call after 7:00, notified us.

Anyone spoken to the press?

Responding officer and a couple of the guys from Troop P are the only ones who've seen the site.

Some of the men are pretty shook up.

Think it could be him?

I sincerely doubt that.

Right, but if it is him and you need my department to issue a BOLO or set a perimeter...

[Police radio chatter]

[Indistinct conversations]

♪ That's him, right?

I mean, who else?

Issue that BOLO.

Have your men set a perimeter and circulate that sketch we have on file.

[Cellphone dialing]

[Rings]

Hey.

Do me a favor.

There's an agent I need you to find right away.

She's outta D.C.

Name's Elizabeth Keen.

♪ [Church bells tolling]

♪ ♪ Liz: He went to his funeral.

He was a pallbearer.

A pallbearer!

And while he was doing that, a witness came forward who saw Garvey k*ll Singleton.

Now, the k*ller...

can you describe him to me?

He had glasses.

Black glasses.

Well, I saw Garvey k*ll Tom.

A lot of good that did me.

Cooper: I've already referred Garvey's case to the Marshal's Office of Internal Affairs.

And now this.

It's a big break.

It's okay to get your hopes up.

You've spoken to this witness?

Is he credible?

'Cause if he is, then my testimony...

Red: Will also be credible.

Any questions about your memory will go away.

So will Mr. Garvey.

And you want that?

Not until I get what I want.

I told him about the duffel bag.

Garvey provides protection for the Nash Syndicate.

I know some of the players.

I'll shake them loose while the Task Force questions the witness.

Where is the witness?

Can I question him?

He's not here.

And, no, you can't.

This is Tom's k*ller we're talking about.

Which is why you can't be involved.

A defense lawyer would need all of a minute to convince a jury to disregard any part of a case you build against Garvey.

You're the widow and star witness.

You can't also be the investigating officer.

So, while you and Reddington go after Garvey, I'm supposed to, what, read a book?

Actually, I have a case.

I'm only interested in the man who m*rder*d Tom and finding out the secret that got him k*lled.

I'm going to help with the former and prevent the latter.

50-50 split.

Like a good divorce.

Harold.

About the case.

Pass.

Agent Keen.

This came directly from Quantico.

They specifically requested you.

Said it's a cold case you'd be familiar with.

Someone called the Capricorn k*ller.

Sound familiar?

Yeah, it does.

Good.

Because I told them they have the full support of you and this Task Force.

Reddington and I will stay on Garvey, but I need you to tell us about Capricorn.

Liz: His first victim was a female college professor found in Tacoma in 2010.

Cause of death was ligature strangulation, but the staging was disturbing, so much that we believe there must be some religious or cult affiliation.

Then, six months later, it happened again...

in Memphis.

Then Charlotte.

Idaho Falls.

Seven victims in four years.

Each one found in remote, inhospitable environments, and each one strangled and posed and placed using a hand-forged sword and holding the skull of a horned goat.

Hence the name Capricorn.

Sign of the goat.

This astrological symbol also represents a creature whose natural ability allows them to survive in inhospitable environments.

It also characterizes panic and fear.

Agent Keen?

Brandon Graves.

Pittsburgh Field Office.

Agents Ressler and Navabi.

This way.

Your profile...

it was different from the others?

Slightly.

We all agreed the unsub was likely a white male, 40s, small in stature, and well organized.

He was transitory.

A long-haul trucker, perhaps, or some other kind of blue-collar job that required travel, and that movement gave him confidence.

So much so that his killings accelerated at an alarming rate.

I thought he would stop.

Which he did.

Went silent.

The Bureau thought he was dead or had been arrested.

Until today.

How is your theory different?

Well, his killings accelerated so quickly, I thought he would feel out of control.

Hold back.

Go dormant for a while.

Others thought he had stopped.

I thought he would return.

Which he has.

Appears to fit the M.O.

Ligature strangulation.

Remote dumpsite.

Methodical.

Ritualistic.

It's impressive.

You were right.

♪ Keen, what is it?

This sword.

The Capricorn k*ller forged each by hand, and this one looks...

symmetrical.

Lacks imperfections.

You need to notify the lab.

Have them pull the weapons from the past victims and run a comparison.

Hold on.

This isn't a random act.

Whoever did this has details right that were never released to the public.

This is Capricorn.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Maybe this is the work of a copycat.

Standing there looking at that body, I felt alive.

Because you reconnected with your work, with profiling?

No.

It's more that...

[Sighs]

I don't know.

Why are you editing yourself?

You know this only works if you're entirely open.

You brought up the Capricorn case for a reason.

Why?

Because what this unsub did to that poor man in the woods, part of me...

sometimes, I feel like I'm capable of doing terrible things like that.

You said you identified the man who k*lled Tom.

Yes, and k*lling him, picturing that, imagining that.

We talked about how common that feeling is.

This is different.

Well, we've talked about your anger and passion and your desire to paint outside the lines.

Your first case with the Bureau, what was it called?

He took their shoes...

the Sandman k*ller.

My work on that case was classified.

How do you know about it?

Elizabeth, it's my job to evaluate your readiness.

We can't have secrets.

The Sandman was a very important unsolved case early in your career.

I'm sure it was defining in ways you may not even be aware of.

Unsolved cases.

I fixate on them.

How unfair they are.

That people get away with m*rder.

I-I know it sounds corny, but I, um...

I obsess...

over the need for justice.

Even if it means painting outside the lines...

or the law.

Yes.

Cooper: A witness has come forward who can identify Detective Singleton's k*ller.

He's at Belmont Police Department.

I want him put in protective custody and transferred here for questioning.

Uh, protective custody?

We believe the detective was m*rder*d by Ian Garvey, a U.S.

Marshal responsible for k*lling Tom Keen.

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

You know who k*lled Tom, and it was a cop?

Because Garvey is a U.S.

Marshal, I want the FBI to take point in protecting the witness.

I've arranged for you to be met by agents from the D.C.

Field Office.

As soon as you sign the transfer order, they are to bring him here as quickly as possible.

Understood?

No.

I mean, yes, sir, about the transfer, but about Tom...

why would a U.S.

Marshal want him dead?

Tom was pursuing a duffel bag containing a secret Reddington is keeping from Agent Keen.

Garvey took it and k*lled Tom in the process.

♪ ♪ [Door closes]

♪ [Sighs]

Ah!

What the hell?

Have a seat, Gerald.

You and I gonna make a little video.

Hey.

Welcome back, Gerald.

♪ We see cash in an instant, rags like a misfit ♪ Gabinelli: Hey!

Turn it down!

Do you hear me?

It's the manager!

♪ Piranhas are real slick, blast after click click ♪ You gotta turn that damn thing off.

♪ Chain dookie, Slick Rick ♪ ♪ First 60 grand, specs 100 grand ♪ Mr.

Reddington.

♪ Lower...

♪ [Music turns off]

[Door creaks]

My word is my bond.

My currency.

I gave Peter Caras my word that I'd move him before the Nash Syndicate learned that he'd cut a deal with the Feds.

But that didn't happen, did it, Mr.

Gabinelli?

The Syndicate found him here.

k*lled him in this very room.

At the time, you gave me your word that you had no idea how that happened.

I didn't.

I-I don't.

Mr.

Caras was a federal witness, so I didn't give it a second thought when the Marshals sent Ian Garvey to investigate his m*rder.

But now I know Garvey wasn't here to investigate the m*rder, was he?

He came to cover it up.

You betrayed me to Garvey.

So, now, as absolution, you're going to betray Garvey to me.

Please.

He's a U.S.

Marshal.

And I am but a humble k*ller with a g*n pointed at the withered prune that passes for your heart.

The next time an associate of the Nash Syndicate shows up, I want a phone call, a room number, and a key.

Yes, sir.

Good.

Turn the lights off on your way out.

[Music resumes]

♪ ...pedigree, enough about me, partner ♪ ♪ This is what they do, this is what they do ♪ ♪ I'm on an alley with my 12...

♪ ♪ And...

I'm hood rich ♪ ♪ dr*gs in the Caddies...

♪ [Door closes]

Excuse me.

Hello there.

I'm here about Tony Mejia.

What about him?

Uh, oh, I've got signed transfer orders.

Uh, agents from the D.C.

field office should be here any minute.

Uh, he's an eyewitness in the death of a police officer.

Norman Singleton.

That's right.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Did you know him?

I did.

Uh, briefly.

In...

In passing.

Seemed like a good man.

Man: Ran it up the flagpole.

Afraid you can't question the witness.

Friggin' Feds cut in line.

I'm sorry.

I-I thought you...

Ian Garvey, U.S.

Marshal.

Singleton was on my Task Force.

Federal Agent Mojtabai.

Uh, wh-what did you say your name was again?

Look, I get it.

You got dibs.

Protocol.

But this is personal.

I'm...

I'm sure it was.

Good.

So we understand each other.

You give me a card, and I'll send you a transcript of the interrogation.

I'm a-afraid I cannot let you do that.

Uh, send me a-a transcript, that is.

You won't have to because, uh, the witness...

I'm...

I'm putting him in protective custody.

Are you now?

And who would you be protecting him from?

Who?

Um, I'm just...

I'm just doing as I was told.

And I'm telling you this is personal.

I'd like you to extend me a little professional courtesy.

I would if I could, really.

Okay, then.

How about we go outside, and I kick your scrawny, brown ass, and then take my witness?

First of all, it's, uh, more of a golden brown.

It's a topaz.

Topaz, really.

And, um, secondly, uh, pardon my French, but you can back the hell off.

Please, bring out my witness.

Man: I was told that you were waiting for agents from the D.C.

Field Office.

Yes, I was.

Not anymore.

♪ Ressler: Miss Seivers, your husband's body was found almost 250 miles away.

Can you think of any reason at all why he'd be so far from home?

I don't know.

He didn't like to travel.

Did he have friends in Pennsylvania?

Not that I know of.

But you feel like your husband was pretty open with you?

What's that supposed to mean?

Ma'am, I'm just trying to get a picture of your husband...

steady job, known in the community, high-school football star...

Liz: I believe what Agent Graves is getting at is that your husband doesn't fit the victimology of our k*ller.

Wendell had a family.

He was known here in town.

He was strong, could fight back.

Oh, I'm sure he did.

Look...

we had problems and fought, just like anyone, but Wendell was a good man.

He loved me, and he loved that boy.

This picture of the two of them...

some kind of school project?

No, they was just messing around.

That's one of Wendell's hobby swords.

I'm sorry, hobby swords?

He made these?

Sure.

In his shop out back.

[Door slides open]

♪ Isn't it a little odd that the Capricorn k*ller's last victim has his own sword-making operation?

Ressler: They're hand-forged.

Imperfect.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ [Door thumps open]

♪ ♪ You're saying the most recent victim is the Capricorn k*ller?

Someone m*rder*d the k*ller and mimicked his M.O.

in the process.

Ressler: It's him.

We even have shrines that match each of the Capricorn k*ller's victims.

And the profile?

I thought you said this guy was single, a loner?

He was.

Until he met his wife and had a child.

That's why he went dormant...

family.

I'm telling you, you pull the travel records from his employer, and they will match the dumpsites of his victims.

Then who k*lled Seivers?

Keen was right about the sword.

It wasn't hand-forged like the others.

It was a bronze cast made by a high-school history professor who sells them online.

Do we have any information on the buyer?

It was purchased under a fake name, but I was able to track down a shipping address.

Good.

Run it down with Ressler.

Keen, you may want to find your way back.

Our witness in the Singleton m*rder is en route as we speak.

[Cellphone beeps]

♪ [Whimpering]

You disgust me, Gerald.

[Panting]

No.

Please.

I...

I...

Ah, don't pass out on me, now.

Sadly, I got a lot more work to do.

Just like you did.

[Whimpering]

Hey.

Welcome back, Gerald.

I can't imagine what you're feeling.

Not physically, but emotionally.

Funny thing is, the dr*gs I gave you to immobilize your body don't have any affect on fear.

That's what makes this experience so unique.

While you were asleep, I took the liberty of amputating your forearm by making an incision at the juncture between the ulna and humerus.

I opened the fascial plane of your left leg, being careful to avoid the femoral artery.

Now, lie back, Gerald.

Be brave.

[Whimpering] Let's enjoy these last few moments together.

[Saw buzzes]

[Whimpering]

♪ [Saw buzzes]

[Groaning]

♪ [Door creaks open]

♪ [Gasps]

Ressler: Stop!

FBI!

♪ [Indistinct conversations]

♪ [Air brakes squeal, hiss]

♪ [Panting]

♪ [Sighs]

He didn't make it.

♪ I know you're scared.

I would be, too.

Of being here.

Of what you saw.

But you know you don't have to be.

We're here to protect you.

It's our job.

And the people I work with, they're, like...

they are, like, really, really good at it.

All right, so, now I'm going to show you some photos.

Tony: A woman already showed me some photos.

Yes, of the victim.

Of Detective Singleton.

But these photos contain the man who we believe k*lled Detective Singleton.

And if you recognize him, I want you to point him out, okay?

Okay.

All right, take your time.

The man you saw in the alley.

The man you saw m*rder Detective Singleton.

Do you see that man in any of these photos?

♪ ♪ [Breathing deeply]

I'll reach out to the U.S.

Attorney's Office.

Soon as hears this, I have no doubt...

[Sighs]

...they'll issue an arrest warrant.

It's almost over.

[Bell dings]

You have someone?

I put him in Room 4, where Caras d*ed.

I thought it would be...

poetic justice.

A romantic!

How counterintuitive.

I hope you appreciate the risk I'm taking by doing this.

It's not so much appreciation as good planning.

k*ll the bodyguard.

Wound Reddington.

I need him alive.

♪ [Door opens]

[Door creaks]

[g*nsh*t]

[Grunts]

[g*nshots]

Ohh!

[Groans]

♪ [Grunting]

[Door closes]

You're gonna need a colostomy bag.

You deserve worse.

I should k*ll you right now.

But let's talk about what you're going to do...

which is name your price, and quickly, before policemen who actually uphold the law arrive to clean up this mess.

Let's start with the truth.

You have the bones.

You already know the truth.

A truth.

I want the whole truth.

The whole truth is that we are all clinging to a lovely blue ball floating in a sea of blackness.

Everything else, including and most especially, the truth you're looking for, is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I could take the bones public.

You could, but you haven't.

And you won't.

I'm not sure why.

There's something I'm missing.

Something holding you back.

I won't k*ll you until I have the bones, and for some inexplicable reason, you won't go public until you know this whole truth.

We may have a stalemate, but with the FBI, you're at a distinct disadvantage.

They're hunting for you.

And as you've k*lled a cop, they will make it their life's work to put you on death row.

Unless you give me the bag, in which case, an accommodation may be possible.

[Sirens wailing in distance]

That's my offer.

Here's mine.

The cop you say I k*lled?

The FBI's holding a witness.

Bring him to me.

And why would I do that?

Because if he fingers me and I go to prison, our little stalemate ends.

[Sirens approaching]

You want to keep the bones secret, that witness can never see the inside of a courtroom.

You better go.

I got a crime scene to investigate.

[Wailing continues]

[Camera shutter clicking]

Graves: The TriState Butcher himself.

We got an ID from the license and card in his wallet.

Local PD went to his house and found a stash of tapes from previous victims.

So we have two serial K*llers, both k*lled using their unique signature.

Mm-hmm.

♪ Where's your head?

The profile.

Whoever's behind this.

I don't get it.

What's not to get?

Someone's knocking off serial K*llers.

Yeah, but how?

Most serial K*llers are white men in their 40s.

The man Ressler chased down was a black man.

And how is he identifying his targets?

The victims are all K*llers the Bureau can't identify.

And yet, the crimes are premeditated and the crime scenes are meticulously staged.

He's duplicating the work of real-life K*llers using classified intel that hasn't been made public...

inside information.

He's gotta be...

Don't say it.

You're thinking it, too.

A cop?

Not just a cop...

a profiler.

You think the unsub is an AfricanAmerican profiler with the Bureau.

I'd think I was under suspicion, but you didn't mention he was devastatingly handsome.

It makes perfect sense.

What makes you so sure?

'Cause this is exactly how I would've done it.

Liz: I've been trying not to edit myself.

Dr.

Fulton: Oh, tell me.

How has that felt?

Intense.

Scary.

Everyone feels that way sometimes.

You don't have to be afraid of those feelings.

See, that's just it.

That's what scares me.

I'm not afraid of those feelings.

I'm exhilarated by them.

This k*ller is a genius.

He saw things the Bureau couldn't.

He solved cases we missed.

Have you always felt like this?

I think so.

My first case.

The Sandman...

the one you asked me about.

How did he do it?

Convince little Susie Baker to leave with him in the middle of the night.

You think he convinced her?

Her shoes were missing.

Little pink hightops with rainbow laces.

Why would a 4-year-old put them on or let him put them on for her?

She did it because she trusted him.

And I could never figure out why.

What he did...

what they all do...

sickens me.

But how they do it, how their minds work...

[Inhales deeply]

honestly, it's...

Exhilarating.

Like, take this case I'm working on right now, the profiler.

Alleged profiler.

No, I'm certain of it.

So you've argued, but if the k*ller was a profiler, then his training at Quantico would've required a psych eval.

I'd like to think I or my colleagues would've flagged him before he was cleared for fieldwork.

Maybe you did.

What?

Flag him.

Not at first, but maybe later.

Years later, they could've suffered a mental trauma, one that's caused a psychological shift.

If I could get ahold of the medical records of these other profilers...

But you can't.

Medical records are private.

Without the authorization of the patient or a court order, you simply can't get them.

Of course I can get them.

Dr.

Fulton is incredibly perceptive.

She sees me.

Sees through me.

If the k*ller's a profiler, I know her and her colleagues would see through him, too, at least enough to flag him.

Send me the list.

You'll have the records this afternoon.

Do I even want to know how?

[Chuckles]

I'm sure you do, but I'm not going to tell you.

Oh, my God.

I can't believe I almost forgot to tell you.

The witness ID'd Garvey as the k*ller.

Did he?

Yeah.

The sweet, innocent kid any jury would believe.

And you have him in protective custody?

Completely.

Aram is overseeing his transport to a safehouse now.

He'll have round-the-clock security from now until the trial.

Garvey is going down.

If not for k*lling Tom, for k*lling a cop.

I want all this to be behind you.

For the first time, I actually think that might happen.

[Cellphone clicks shut]

♪ Dembe, is everything in place?

Yes.

Everything is in place.

♪ I know I was just here this morning, but, um, I just need to ask you something and get your opinion.

Of course.

What is it?

I've been looking over the medical files of the other profilers.

We talked about this.

Yes, that's when I got the idea to do it.

And I told you they were classified.

I've been looking over them for hours.

At what...

the files you stole?

I had started to suspect Agent Graves.

I thought the files would confirm my suspicions, but they didn't.

Of the 282 agents in the Bureau's five Behavioral Analysis units, 61 have undergone psychological evaluations.

But in the last 10 years, only eight have been deemed unfit for duty and released.

Agent Graves was not one of them, but...

Anthony Hollis was.

Top in his class at Quantico.

Deemed unfit for duty after a psych eval due to insubordination.

Why are you telling me this and not your Task Force?

He got into law enforcement because both his parents were k*lled when he was young.

I think you're only telling me because you know you can't tell your team ...

So, he's angry.

Driven.

Do you really want to lose your badge on this?

I just want to stop a serial k*ller, and I think you can help me.

In your professional opinion, as a psychologist and criminologist, do you think, based on everything I've told you, that this could be our guy?

♪ [Papers rustling]

♪ Yes, it's possible.

That's all I need to know.

Liz.

[Door opens, closes]

[Sighs]

♪ Liz: I may have identified the man behind the killings.

He's a former agent.

Name's Anthony Hollis.

What makes you so sure?

He was a profiler.

Psych services flagged him for behavioral issues.

It's all in his medical file.

Anthony Elliot Hollis.

Age 46.

Residence...

231 Washington Street in Gaithersburg.

I have eyes on him now.

Looks like he's going somewhere.

He may be a flight risk.

Agent Ressler, you chased the unsub from the m*rder scene.

I didn't get a good enough look.

I can't confirm it's him.

You need to roll units.

His medical file...

how is it that you got a copy?

Reddington got it for me.

Meaning he stole it for you?

Sir, he's leaving.

And because he stole it, whatever evidence we get on him may be inadmissible.

We won't know until we arrest him, which Liz can't do without a badge.

Keen, listen to me...

put a bumper lock on Hollis, but do not engage.

Ressler and Navabi are en route.

[Cellphone beeps]

Let's just hope, if this is our guy, you didn't do anything to jeopardize our ability to put him where he belongs.

♪ Thank you.

For agreeing to do this.

You know you don't have to.

It's the right thing to do.

Yes, it is.

My grandmother always tells me I should do the right thing.

I think your grandma will be very proud of you.

Does the place we're going have snacks?

I like Doritos.

You serious?

I love Doritos.

Wait.

Which is your favorite?

Mine...

Spicy Nacho.

Unless I'm depressed.

Then I mainline Jacked 3D Bacon Cheddar Ranch.

[Chuckles]

[Vehicle beeping]

Guys, what's going on?

Man: No idea.

Engine just gave out.

[Engine sputters, stops]

[Tires screech]

Guys.

Whoa!

Hey, guys!

[Tires screech]

[Weapons cock]

g*ns down!

Hands up!

♪ No!

Aah!

No!

[Grunts]

No, no!

Oh!

Help me!

No, let me go!

Let me go!

Let me go!

Let me go!

♪ [Tires screech]

♪ [g*n cocks]

[Engine revs]

[Safety clicks]

♪ Let's go!

Move, move!

[Indistinct shouting]

Clear!

[Shouts indistinctly]

Samar: Liz, we just got off the phone with the Gaithersburg Police Department.

We have officers on-site at Hollis' home, and the place is full of evidence.

They're pulling prints now, but he's our guy.

Ressler: We're pulling a trace on your cell.

We're not far behind.

[Siren wailing]

We're pulling off the 270 now.

Liz: He just stopped on Little Seneca Lake.

It's some minimum maintenance road off the westbound 117.

All right, we're minutes out.

Hold tight.

We're pulling maps of the area.

If there were a cabin or a house, I would see it.

I'm losing light.

[Whispering]

I've lost him in the shadows.

[Tapping on window]

[Window motor whirring]

Liz?

Liz.

[Wailing continues]

Hollis: The g*n, too.

Let's go for a drive.

♪ ♪ Liz: Where are we going?

Quiet.

Keep walking.

♪ I only ask...

I said, "Quiet." ♪ ♪ ♪ [Grunting]

[Grunting]

♪ [g*n cocks]

Let's go.

♪ ♪ [Door creaks]

What is this place?

[Door creaks]

Come on in, Elizabeth.

♪ There's something I want to share with you.

♪ Ressler: Agent Keen broke contact 13 minutes ago.

State Police have set up a perimeter with road blocks, but there's a chance she may be on foot.

Graves: So, our search area will run from Sideline Road on the west to the shoreline on the east.

And from Tenmile Creek down to highway 117.

Before she vanished, Agent Keen was in pursuit of this man, Anthony Hollis.

Former FBI.

He is smart, he is armed, and he knows how we work, so be careful.

Are we clear on our grids?

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir.

You're my therapist.

And this is our final session.

When we're done here, I feel certain I'll be able to recommend reinstatement.

You know who this guy is, what he does.

Of course.

I taught him.

No, that can't be!

You're angry.

That's good.

Anger can be so...

exhilarating.

Don't.

Fixating on unsolved cases, how unfair they are.

Do not twist my word...

I know it sounds corny, but I am obsessed with painting outside the lines.

I am not like you.

Not yet.

Never.

I k*ll serial K*llers.

I brought you here to recruit you.

The same way I recruited Hollis.

I've had my eye on you for ages.

Ever since you sh*t the Attorney General for being a traitor.

I knew then you were someone I needed to recruit.

So, when your psychiatric evaluation was ordered, I made sure I was assigned to your case.

Talk about exhilarating.

A profiler and the daughter of Raymond Reddington.

In our sessions, you were everything I could've hoped for...

comfortable with your darker impulses.

So I tested you out in the field.

The Capricorn k*ller.

♪ You knew psych services would reach out to me, assign me the case.

That it would lead me to you.

Oh, I certainly knew that stealing a few confidential medical files wasn't going to stop you.

All you've done is confess to m*rder.

I've revealed myself to you.

And you're about to reveal yourself to me.

And maybe even to yourself.

♪ [Door creaks]

♪ ♪ Dr. Fulton: You know where we are, right?

♪ Susie Baker...

He brought her here.

He brought them all here.

Why would you bring me here?

To do what has to be done.

♪ [Door creaks]

[Light-switch chain rattles, clicks]

♪ To k*ll the Sandman.

[Labored breathing]

♪ [Speaking indistinctly]

♪ Graves: [Whispering]

Shh, quiet.

Stop walking.

Dr.

Fulton: I used to counsel families.

Tried to ease their pain, help them heal.

But there are times when there is no healing.

Because there's no justice.

Susie d*ed in this room.

We can't bring her back.

But for her family, to help them heal...

this is the next best thing.

♪ He suffocated her with a pillow.

[Muffled whining]

♪ Go on.

♪ I know you want to.

[Muffled cry]

♪ [Muffled screaming]

[Door slams open]

FBI!

Hands where we can see them!

Leave him.

I've got this one.

Circle back.

Head west.

See if you can find that woman and make sure...

Look out!

[g*nshots]

♪ [Panting]

[Barking echoes]

♪ [Man shouts indistinctly]

Liz: Stop!

[Dog barking]

[Sirens wailing in distance]

[Breathing heavily]

♪ I can't believe I read you wrong.

♪ Maybe you didn't.

♪ [Flashlight clicks]

♪ [Man shouts indistinctly]

[Wailing continues]

♪ [Camera shutters clicking, police radio chatter]

["What Arrows" by Hey Rosetta!

plays]

♪ ♪ It curves in ♪ ♪ ♪ Through the weather ♪ ♪ ♪ It's coming from above I tried.

♪ I thought...

Don't b*at yourself up, Keen.

I'll get us a sketch.

State Police are out there combing the woods.

Wherever she is, we're gonna find her.

At least we got these two, right?

Silver linings.

♪ It guided us to touch Hey, if there's anything good that happened today, it's that we secured a witness who's gonna testify against the man who k*lled Tom.

♪ It moves in a rhythm, yeah Like I said.

Silver linings.

♪ ♪ What tender tailor came...

What?!

Whoever it was, they came out of nowhere.

But there was a team.

SWAT.

I know, but it happened really fast.

They overwhelmed us, and they boxed us in.

The witness is gone?

No, not gone.

He's missing, and we're gonna get him back.

We're gonna get him back.

No, you're not.

♪ Then he left us alone Liz, Liz, no.

Listen.

So, look, I've pulled all of the feeds, and, uh, now, the vans were unmarked.

There were no plates, but...

Aram.

I'm doing...

I'm...

This is not your fault.

I'm not blaming you, but five minutes after he was taken, that sweet kid was dead.

♪ ♪ But our feet fall in a rhythm, yeah ♪ I'm not gonna stop until I can prove Garvey did this.

He won't get away with it.

[Cries]

He already has.

Cooper: Agent Keen.

♪ ♪ I can't believe it ♪ ♪ I think I believe in this Been a hard few days.

Aram lost a witness, and while you got Hollis, his partner in crime got away.

These are setbacks, and they sting.

But in this line of work, I've learned you have to take the good with the bad.

So, let's take a moment...

focus on the good.

Dr.

Fulton?

I've submitted my report to the Office of the Inspector General, and he's agreed with my recommendation that you be reinstated, effective immediately.

Congratulations, Agent Keen.

[Sighs]

Thank you.

This is a big relief.

You deserve it.

You've worked hard in counseling, been honest about your grief and loss, and you've been remarkably willing to reveal to me who you truly are.

A fine agent and an even better person.

♪ And what angel?

♪ Did he wait until we met?

I didn't reinstate you because you let me go, but you did let me go, and I want to thank you for that.

My father has people he can turn to for help.

Doctors.

Lawyers.

Finders.

Freaks.

People with special skills.

You have a special skill, and I'd like to know that, someday, I can turn to you.

Reddington said you were nothing like him.

♪ And you knew he was wrong.

♪ It's there if you're listening ♪ Well, you're done with mandatory counseling.

But, if you ever want to come in on a voluntary basis, my door's always open.

♪ I can't believe it ♪ ♪ I think I believe in this ♪ ♪ Whoa-oh-oh-ohv ♪ [Suspenseful music plays]

I don't see the witness.

You never will.

I've taken him away from you and the FBI.

I told you to bring him to me.

Yes.

A thuggish order I immediately disregarded because I don't take orders from you.

The witness and his grandmother are safe and secure.

And as long as I'm alive, he will not testify against you.

What about Keen?

She's a witness.

You gonna put her outta my reach, too?

I don't have to because, where she is concerned, you have no leverage.

Secret or no secret, if you reach out to her, I'll cut off your hands.

If you look in her direction, I'll cut out your eyes.

And if you ever utter her name again in my presence, I'll cut out your tongue.

You have no idea who I am or why I want the truth.

Aren't you curious?

Don't you have any questions?

Oh, I have plenty of questions, but none I'd pose to you.

The answers will have to wait...

for me to find out on my own.

Good luck with that.

Mr. Garvey, might I suggest you enjoy what little time you have left...

crab cakes, scalp massages, perhaps a double feature of "The 400 Blows" and "Jules and Jim"...

whatever floats your boat.

Do it now, because I will find those bones, and when I do, I'm gonna k*ll you.

You are an odd one, aren't you?

[Cellphone ringing]

♪ Yes?

Liz: I need you to promise me something.

Of course.

You're doing everything in your power to get Garvey.

What's this about?

He got him.

We were so close, and then...

You have my word.

The bag.

The secret.

You won't let them get in the way?

I've already told you.

Tell me again.

I need to hear it.

I promise Ian Garvey will not get away from me.

[Door creaks]

[Cellphone clicks shut]

♪