02x15 - Ashes, Ashes

[bunniefuu]

Previously on CSI: Vegas...

All of these cases, all of
these people are related.

Whoa, whoa.

That file didn't close by itself.

Someone's accessing the
computer and watching us.

MAX: Molly, the person
who sent you that dossier

and that card with the silver ink,

they left something on it.

Find him, please.

GILL: A few years ago,

Molly confessed to a few
nonviolent crimes to her therapist.

RAJAN: Dr. Auerbach's notes were printed

on the same printer that
produced these cards.

The sick mind behind all of these
murders is Dr. Diane Auerbach.

(SIRENS WAILING)

(CLAMORING) Go, go, go!

CHAVEZ: That's no su1c1de.

AUERBACH: What does your
grandma do that makes you so mad?

It can be hard to talk about
things that make you angry.

That's okay.

Sometimes, it's easier to
draw what's on your mind.

Things that make you happy,

things that bother you.

Dreams, maybe.

May I see your drawing?

I was so sure.

I was so certain that she was
responsible for all of these murders.

Some twisted soul was
holding Dr. Auerbach

responsible for something, huh?

Not much of anything inside.

Place has been empty for a
while, so whoever abducted her

and brought her out here,

they didn't set up shop in there.

Nope. They were busy back here.

FOLSOM: Honestly, I'm just wondering

how they even got her up there at all.

Dead weight's a bear
to carry on flat ground,

let alone that far up.

I don't know if he used a pulley,

or what, but the k*ller had to be strong

and determined. Must've taken a while.

Jack says liver temp puts time
of death at about hours ago.

I thought you and Serena
almost just ran into her

- at the house yesterday.
- Yeah, we thought we did.

Stop! But neither of
us actually saw her.

If it was the k*ller,
then they were here first,

and they went back to Diane's.

Wonder what they were looking for, huh?

I wonder why they
k*lled our prime suspect.

Seems a bit self-defeating,
redirects our attention.

Canvass was a bust.

Most of the cabins out here

are vacant during the week,

so we're hard up for witnesses.

RAJAN: So whoever did this,

they would have plenty of privacy for...

whatever this is.

"The Hanged Man."

The tarot card.

(SCOFFS)

Me and my friends were really
into tarot in middle school.

The Hanged Man is upside down,

hanging by one ankle from a tree,

hands behind his back.

Hope it's not a bad omen.

Last thing we need is
a cursed crime scene.

This guy went to a lot
of trouble to stage this.

If there's something it can tell
us, we need to know soon, Joshua.

On it.

Thank you.

(WIND CHIMES TINKLING)

You should check this
out over here, too.

ROBY: What do we have here?

The greatest hits of
our connected cases.

A mirror shard.

ROBY: He used to k*ll Lynn Zobrist.

RAJAN: Chef's Kn*fe and what I think is

potassium cyanide solution.

ROBY: Like the one that took
out our chef, Dario Donnelly.

And our c*ptive bolt p*stol.

RAJAN: Like the one
used to k*ll Lamont Moore

and those innocent bystanders.

ROBY: Blood on the business end.

No prints, though.

But there are some here.

What have you got?

See this vertical defect?

It matches a healing cut on
Diane's right index finger.

The k*ller had her sitting here?

RAJAN: The way these
weapons are laid out,

I think they made Diane
choose how she wanted to die.

(CRYING)

ROBY: Out of all the weapons
in our silver ink cases...

... she chose the quickest death.

Half expected to find another card.

"Keep your secrets,
cull the rotten fruit."

Whoever's behind all of this,

they had to know how all
these cases connected.

They were connected
because they were ordered

by the same psychopath.

Let's get him.

(TYPING)

(WHIRRING)

♪ ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪

♪ I really wanna know ♪

♪ Who... are you? ♪

♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ Who... ♪

♪ Come on, tell me
who are you, you, you ♪

♪ Are you! ♪

- Thank you.
- FOLSOM: Okay, fellas.

She's in full rigor. So
let's take it nice and slow.

Ladies.

I thought you were in
Hawaii with your daughter.

I came back a day early.
Lindsey... was annoyed.

- You got it?
- Yeah.

WILLOWS: Hard to stay on vacation

when a serial k*ller is on the loose.

Wish this k*ller would take a vacation.

WILLOWS: So, Max said
that the guy gave her

a choice of weapons
from the Silver Ink case.

Catch me up.

Leucocrystal violet tests
confirmed that the bolt g*n was

actually the only w*apon used on Diane.

You didn't get anything
else from the other weapons?

- Prints?
- No.

Uh, the shard is from
a broken bathroom mirror

in the cabin, the Kn*fe is
from a block in the kitchen,

and the serial on the bolt g*n

can only tell us it was part of a batch

sold through an online retailer.

Trail goes cold there.

And, obviously, the cyanide
solution is in an unmarked bottle.

Maybe the victim can tell us something.

FOLSOM: So far,

Diane's not spilling any secrets,
just blood, and lots of it.

We only just figured
out how to get her down

without dropping her on her head.

You didn't see anything up there?

All I got was a workout
and more questions.

I had Serena look at the cuffs.

They're not law-enforcement issue.

Could've come from a sex shop, maybe.

Or online. Or anywhere, really.

Another question: Uh, you see

all that old flaky paint
on the crossbar there?

Well,

there's a void here I can't explain.

If you threw a rope up over
that bar and hauled a body up,

you would strip paint on three sides.

Anywhere you pull a
rope around that bar,

there would be way more disturbed paint.

How the hell did he get her up there?

He didn't use a pulley?

No clue. It was hard
enough to get her down,

and she's in rigor now.

Well, if the k*ller put her up
there before she was stiff...

Yeah, he would have
had a hell of a time.

Be easier if he had help.

You think we've got more than one doer?

All of the other Silver Ink murders

have been committed by lone wolves.

Lone wolves who were coerced.

Maybe our man behind the curtain

blackmailed an accomplice.

Something here is gonna tell us.

Oh, hey. Any winners?

Epithelial DNA from the ropes
and cuff come from a single donor.

- Diane Auerbach. You?
- Uh, just some soil.

Matched a sample from the scene.

Looks like the guy used a
rope that was laying around.

There's nothing but
paint from the flagpole

on this side of the cuffs.

So, to recap,

we have four weapons that lead nowhere,

no witnesses, and no DNA

- or trace that point toward any k*ller.
- Hmm.

I don't want to use the word "cursed."

I don't think the guy was casting
a spell with his silver squiggles.

We'll find something.

You guys collected everything
you could fit into that trunk.

Plenty more bites off that apple.

When in doubt...

... dust.

♪ ♪

It's just partials.
There's not one print

with enough characteristics
to run through AFIS.

That is some tough taffy to chew.

I have a semi-crazy idea.

What if we try to piece
together all of the partials,

build a usable print from what we have.

Like a Franken-print?

Look, I know it's not
gonna hold up in court,

but it could lead to a
person of interest, right?

These aren't even partials,

these are partials of partials.

You think we can cobble together

something substantial
from such tiny bits?

I once built the Taj Mahal out of Legos.

We got this.

(GRUNTING): Ah, come on.

(GROANS)

(CHUCKLES) Do you need a hand?

(SIGHS) I think I need all of you.

This guy is...

not a great stand-in
for Diane Auerbach.

He's a little too tall, too heavy.

Same goes for everybody
else in my dummy closet.

Your dummy closet? Wow.

(LAUGHS)

All right.

I got to figure out if the k*ller

had an accomplice when he strung her up.

Either way, it was a tough job.

This guy had to leave a
piece of himself somewhere,

but I don't know where to look.

So, you want to...

Run some trials.

Will you donate your body to science?

(LAUGHS)

Whoa. All right.

- You good?
- Yeah.

- All right.
- Oh, Josh,

- I'm slipping. I'm slipping.
- What?

All right.

- (LAUGHS): No.
- No.

Okay, can you help, uh...

Here we go. You got it?

I should not have quit yoga.

Let it swing... and over.

- Nice. Okay.
- RAJAN: Yes.

(LAUGHTER)

We did it.

Well, I think you mean I did it.

You were more of a handsome tripod.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

- All right, you ready?
- Mm-hmm.

- Here we go.
- (LAUGHS)

- You all right?
- Yeah.

So...

I doubt that Diane was
that amenable to her k*ller.

I doubt that she was even alive.

So, either he had help, or...

... we're looking for Superman.

CHAVEZ: Mr. Auerbach,
this is Maxine Roby,

the director of the crime lab.

- I'm so sorry for your loss, sir.
- Ah, thank you.

But, truth be told, I'm
surprised you called.

Me and Diane have been
separated almost two years.

I thought she'd have
somebody else for next of kin.

You moved out?

Yeah, well, years of having

your every sigh
psychoanalyzed starts to grate.

Did she grate on anybody else?

I thought you said you'd met her.

Look, Diane worked with disturbed
kids for most of her career.

Lot of them had signs of psychopathy,

and when they got worked up...

Did you ever worry for her safety?

She had these creeps
traipsing through our house.

I always thought having a
home office was a bad idea.

She insisted they were safe.

Was she ever concerned about
anybody in particular, or...

No, she was always very
serious about privacy.

I-I didn't even know their names.

Mr. Auerbach, LVPD has a record

of a domestic disturbance
call at Diane's address.

Four years ago.

You know the one.

That was before the separation.

We used to argue something awful,

but it was raised voices, that's all.

See, we're pretty sure
we're looking for a big guy.

Your left arm could feed a
family of five for a week.

- Are you seriously suggesting...
- Yes, I am.

I'm asking you where you were last night

- from : to midnight.
- Working out.

I don't skip leg day.

You don't believe me?

Here, I even recorded a
little for my, uh, trainer.

She likes to critique my form.

Mm, okay.

ROBY: Tell me you got something, Sonya.

I'm starting to feel like the
grand marshal of a dead end parade.

Well, I'm not sure any

of what I have is gonna cr*ck the case,

- but I do know two things.
- Tell me.

So, first thing:

Lividity indicates that
your victim d*ed upright.

See this sort of whitish discoloration

on her buttocks and
the backs of her thighs?

I would say that she was seated

and she stayed that way for a while.

So, the k*ller turned her upside down

after she had already d*ed.

Yes. But not immediately.

Okay, what's thing two?

Okay, thing two: You see this

sort of adhesive
residue around the wound?

I would verify this with FTIR,

but based off the strength
of this remaining residue,

I would say that is
contractor-grade duct tape.

Why it's there, though, I have no idea.

Maybe the k*ller wanted to
keep the wound from bleeding

until the stage was set.

Duct tape to prevent blood flow.

That is crude, but it's effective.

It's oddly fastidious.

He's nothing if he's not meticulous.

He needs everything to be just so.

Yeah. (CLATTERING)

Jack, you got to be more
careful with the specimen trays.

Jack?

Hey.

Hey, excuse me! Hey! Security!

Stop!

He ran out the back door.

Whoever that was, he shouldn't
have been in the crypt.

I mean, unless he was lost.

I don't...

He left something behind.

That was him?

_

That was him.

GILL: There.

Okay, we've got to be close.

This is when Max went into
the morgue at : p.m.

There he is.

You got a different angle?

: p.m. He runs out
the loading dock doors

and we lose him in the alley. Darn it.

We never see his face.

All right, that's just how
he got out of the building.

- How did he get in?
- Let me check.

This reminds me of a Where's
Waldo nightmare I had.

Candy cane striped hellscape.

That's him, right?

Dressed like a delivery guy?

Must be how he wormed
his way past security.

Where's the footage from that elevator?

GILL: There isn't any.

Maintenance said that those cameras

are gonna get fixed next week.

But, if he got out at the lobby level...

WILLOWS: Hold up.

Is that Bryan?

Almost, the chin isn't quite right.

A little bit sharper.

So I think we have a sketch
of a stick figure in a hat.

I don't think my guy has the chops

to get what Bryan's giving him.

Any DNA on the note?

ROBY: Yes, indeed.

We got a name and a police report.

CHAVEZ: Modi Subramaniam.

Ooh, a -year-old with a record.

ROBY: Felony as*ault, .

Hit a teenager in a grocery
store parking lot with his cane.

Okay, you're not telling me

Bad Grandpa outran you, are you?

I think our silver ink-obsessed k*ller

used an envelope with
this old man's DNA on it.

I think we should find out if
he's trying to show us something.

So, our homeowner, Modi,

he is pretty spry for a -year-old felon.

Lives out in Palm Springs
with a couple lady friends.

Rents this place out.

Any information about his tenant?

Description he gave was
"some young white guy."

- Goes by "Mike Smith."
- Hmm.

- Narrows it down.
- Yeah, a few hundred Mike Smiths in Vegas,

but this one paid six
months' rent up front in cash.

I'm guessing Modi didn't
ask too many questions.

(KNOCKING)

You know, he insisted on a video call

when he heard my voice.

(SCOFFS)

He said "anything for a lady
cop with very pretty eyes."

- Ooh.
- So I have an open invitation to Palm Springs,

and we have permission to look around.

Well, let's not keep you from
that poolside margarita, huh?

WILLOWS: Somebody ran a
cable to that structure.

ROBY: Yup.

WILLOWS: Maybe an ADU?

I'm over here.

Not much of a view, though, huh?

WILLOWS: No, there isn't.

Catherine...

These symbols, they're symbols

like those postcards we've been getting.

Homeowner says we can go in.

(SHUDDERS)

(KNOCKING)

I think we found your pen pal.

You have any luck decoding this stuff?

ROBY: Allie's been working on it.

Beau dabbles. But nothing yet.

I mean,

maybe it's just lorem ipsum.

Like it means nothing?

That really would be crazy.

(SCREAMS)

Oh, my God.

Get out, get out!

Come on, get out!

- You okay?
- Yeah. I'm fine. Max?

- Are you okay?
- (PANTING) I'm okay.

I hit the light switch. It was rigged.

CHAVEZ: Dispatch, I need LVFD

at my current location
in Boulder City now.

I got a case going up in smoke.

Damn it!

ROBY: I know. Our evidence got flambéed.

I don't want to hear a word
about this case being jinxed.

I never should have touched
that damn light switch.

Oh, it's okay, boss.

It's not as if it's our
first crispy crime scene.

WILLOWS: Yeah, if I'd seen it first,

I would've done the same damn thing.

This psycho was probably counting on it.

And his little booby trap

could be exactly what helps us find him.

I want every piece of
this ignition mechanism,

anything that remotely looks
like it belongs to it, Catherine.

Bag and tag it. I'm on it.

ROBY: This was a controlled burn.

He wanted us to find something.

Allie, I want you to look
at every piece of paper,

everything in the drawers

and anything that looks
like it survived this fire.

Got it. I'll see if I can make sense

of what's left of these scribbles.

Yeah, you do, we'll buy you a steak
dinner at the Palazzo, how's that?

Really?

ROBY: Hey, you guys.

Penny was right.

WILLOWS: What?

The guy who engineered this,

they were watching us.

- Max.
- Yeah.

You need to see this.

What?

_

FOLSOM: You are running
trace analysis on a card

that's literally ordering your m*rder.

That is the job, Joshua.

Not when some psychopath has
put a target on your back.

How many people got
that card with your name?

You wanna end up back in the hospital?

Or worse? I can't imagine that
you want to go through that again.

I know I don't.

My name on one of those
cards is totally off-pattern.

Who's been the target so far?

Every other Silver Ink case has been

one troubled person
being sent after another.

So putting my name in the mix...

It's a desperate move.

He's panicking.

We're close,

and he's worried,

and worried people make mistakes.

Max, come on.

You cannot just be chum in
the water for some lunatic.

- You want me to be safe?
- Yeah.

Then let's find out everything we can

about this guy and get
him off the streets.

She has to handle it her way.

You will be an invited guest

at an LVPD safe house
until this is over.

Actually, I have a better idea.

You know, I'm really not too wild about

how often people are
trying to k*ll you, Mom.

It's starting to feel
like a trend, isn't it?

So, what do we do?

I need you to get two
rooms at the Aurora.

One for me, one for you.

Use fake names, okay?

Like we're in witness protection?

It's not perfect, I know that,

but LVPD is gonna post
unis outside our rooms.

We'll have Aurora's CCTV network

as added security, and
you'll be able to go to work.

Mom? This sucks.

I know.

I'll set it up.

All right. Thank you.

Oh, hey, I got something to show you.

What you got?

I didn't really see much of
this guy's face, but I saw this.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

He's got a scar on his arm.

What happened to that stick figure?

Oh, you know I had to do a
little somethin' somethin'.

You want something done right,
you got to do it yourself.

I'm sorry to interrupt, boss, but
you should come take a look at this.

GILL: We were able to
jigsaw some usable prints

from the partials we
pulled at Diane's cabin.

Okay, Pen, a judge is
gonna throw this out

at the mention of the word "jigsaw."

No, we know.

But don't you want to meet your matches?

ROBY: Matches? Plural?

Whatever you think I did,

it's not true, I've
never done anything...

We just have a few
questions, Juan Carlos.

Your prints are on file
from your asylum application.

Me and Juan Carlos,

we've been picking up construction jobs.

We've been working all the
time. It's been amazing.

JUAN CARLOS: It's been terrible.

Have you met the people that live here?

They're all degenerates.

What exactly were you building

out by Lake Spring Mountain, Mister...

Uh, Hester.

Ted Hester.

And it was a boat ramp.

That old dock is in pretty rough shape.

And you just hired a couple
of day laborers to help?

Yeah, I got a bum shoulder,

so I can't do any heavy lifting.

JUAN CARLOS: This was months ago now,

but I remember the boss
on this paid in cash.

Said we'd get to work by the lake.

Better than the desert.

How long were you out there?

We didn't see a boat ramp.

We never finished. Barely even started.

Boss said the old lady
that used to live there,

she went into a home.

TED: Not to be a jerk,

but no money, no boat ramp, you know?

Where were you night before last?

Lotería. I'm a cantor at
Señorita Margarita's twice a week.

JUAN CARLOS: He's actually very good.

Won a hundred dollars that night.

I was at home watching the Lakers.

They got to trade 'Bron, man.
Blow it up. Get some picks.

Yeah. Uh, well, if you
have anything else...

There is one thing, actually.

I remember seeing a
pickup out at the cabin.

It was an extended cab, white.

Had a supertop over the bed.

Saw it a couple times.

If anybody got close, it just took off.

Well, thank you, Mr. Hester.

All right.

I didn't see any scars on their arms,

but the file on Bob
Auerbach says he drives

a white truck that
sounds pretty similar.

Along with a thousand
other Vegas residents.

(SIGHS)

I was thinking about the boat ramp.

Mm-hmm?

The summer I was , I dated
this girl whose family had money.

Oh, I bet her dad loved you.

- No.
- Mm-hmm.

But he had a boat that needed repairs,

and I helped him haul
it out of Lake Tahoe.

I think I need to go find a hoist.

Oh, hey, Al...

Uh, hey. No, it's me. Allie texted.

She's still at the white room scene,

but she said you needed help.

(CHUCKLES): Mm, okay.

(WHIRRING)

Ha-ha. Now we're talking.

We might not be looking
for a powerlifter,

just a guy with a powerful lifter.

But I thought you said there was no sign

that a pulley was used,

and wouldn't a hoist like this
have to be pulled from above?

Were there any markings
on top of the flagpole?

Uh...

There's no sign of
anything being disturbed

except for that little void in the paint

where Diane was hanging.

Well, maybe he hooked up
a motorized device to...

I don't know, something tall
that isn't there anymore?

Maybe.

I think we need to get back to
the crime scene for another look.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, totally.

Could I be right side up for that?

Oh, yeah.

- Hey, Beau.
- Hey.

Anything useful?

You have components of the
ignition device, accelerant.

I mean, it's all stuff that contractors,

repair folk, your odd DIY-er could buy

at a hardware store on a regular basis.

So we'd be hard-pressed to trace
any of it back to an individual.

Yeah, even before it went up in flames.

Damn. I...

just was really hoping

this was going to end
our evidence drought.

There's got to be something
that we're missing.

The thing I keep coming back to

are these crazy symbols on the walls.

Allie and I, we haven't
cracked the postcards, but maybe

there's something there we haven't seen.

Like what?

A pattern.

A clue to the cipher. I don't know,

but something that could get us

to the bastard who is threatening Max.

I just... I can't really tell.

Well, maybe you need to
get back in the saddle.

I mean, if you think there's
something at the crime scene

that could help Max, you're
not going to find it in a lab

on the other side of town.

Oh.

Well, well, well,

if it isn't a rare sighting
of Beau Finado out in the wild.

Don't get excited,

this is a temporary state of affairs.

Nope. Sorry, I'm getting excited.

You can't stop me.

(CHUCKLES) Look, I'm just
here to get a better look

at the stuff that's on the walls.

RAJAN: Yeah, the silver scribbles.

I've been trying to make them
out through the soot all day.

Well, Beau brought something

that might make it a little easier.

FINADO: You know I love my latex.

♪ ♪

Guys... I found something weird.

Well, weirder.

Well...

it's not exactly a secret decoder ring,

but it's something.

Richard Sloan, Alan Herskovitz...

FINADO: I don't know
what I'm looking at,

but I know I don't like it.

RAJAN: Whoever's behind
the Silver Ink murders,

this is part of their plan.

We're not just looking
at a few connected crimes.

What do you see, Allie?

It's a wheel.

This whole time, we've been
watching a wheel of death spin.

This is his plan.

This is his whole game plan.

ROBY: Your big old board of crazy

looks a lot less crazy. What happened?

We found something under
the soot at the fire scene.

Beau's liquid latex trick
gave us a clean look.

That ouroboros and the names around it

helped me realize what it is
that we're really looking at.

- A game.
- A game?

You ever play Assassin, boss?

We used to play it at
university with Nerf g*ns.

Players are assigned a target,

and once they eliminate
one, they inherit

that player's target as
their next assignment.

It's just a complicated game of tag.

You go after me, I go after Allie,

Allie goes after you...

It's fun.

If you're playing with Nerf b*ll*ts.

Are you sure about this?

Mm-hmm. The snake eats its own tail.

The wheel rolls until only one remains.

And everybody else ends up dead.

I mean, all these poor, sick folks.

FINADO: Who would want
to k*ll all these people?

And who dreams up something like this?

You know what?

No more games. Get me a suspect.

♪ ♪

(FOLSOM SIGHS)

No holes, no disturbed earth.

Whatever kind of rig he
used to get her up there

had to be anchored to something,

but I wouldn't even begin to
know where to look for trace.

FOLSOM: I'm not the superstitious type,

but even I'm starting to think that...

think that this case
is cursed. Hey, Penny,

be careful, that dock
looks pretty rough.

Hey, hey, hey... Wow.

Hey, look at this.

The base is rusty, but not on top.

FOLSOM: Yeah, you're right,
it's like the top section's

been scraped clean.

Something was on that post.

Like a... Like a mount for a boat winch?

A hand crank to pull a
boat out of the water.

Usually, they're mounted on
a trailer, but if there was...

If there was one here...

Yeah, that's how he did it solo.

There'd be no accomplice needed.

He could just hoist Diane's
body into place from here.

But there's no way her body
was pulled from this angle.

And the friction from a
rope pulling her weight

over the crossbar would have
stripped off more paint, right?

(SIGHS) Yeah.

(WIND CHIMES TINKLING)

Maybe not, if there was
a different anchor point.

Got something?

FOLSOM: I think we
already had something.

I think we have the
smoking g*n at the lab.

Damn it.

- I thought our luck was changing.
- So did I.

We found a fiber at the scene
from this snag in the bungee.

I know he used it.

There's a couple of rope fibers
trapped in this coil here.

- He didn't have enough rope to haul her up.
- Uh-huh.

So he used that to
make up the difference.

Pretty sure, but there's no DNA here.

So, what happens when you attach...

weight to the end of a bungee?

- It stretches.
- Exactly.

And when you stretch a bungee cord,

it expose more surface area

that could catch DNA.

It would be hard work
stretching the bungee that far.

I broke a sweat just doing
a spiral search with Penny.

Maybe our k*ller sweated, too.

Come on.

♪ ♪

FOLSOM: (SIGHS) Damn.

No match in CODIS.

We're not done yet, Joshua.

Met this fella,

this brilliant scientist
at a genetics conference.

He's from the Netherlands.

And he has new research

that expands what you can
predict from a DNA assay.

FOLSOM: How detailed can you get?

Give me minutes with your genome

and I could tell you
whether your hairline

will survive the next decade.

As for our sweaty suspect,

a male of average height...

Probably not Diane's ex. I heard he was

a tall drink of protein shake.

And he very likely has heterochromia.

Different colored eyes?

That mean something to you?

(DISTORTED): Blow it up.
Get some picks. Right?

Yeah, it means our guy also has

a bum shoulder and a shaky alibi.

So, when we bring him in,

all I need you to tell me

is whether it's the man
you saw in the elevator.

- Yes, ma'am.
- (PHONE BUZZING)

You're mighty popular.

Oh, it's just Dad.

He's texting me his flight details.

Where's he going now?

I may have mentioned
that we're hiding out

from a crazy axe m*rder*r or whatever.

- Hmm?
- I was really worried about you,

and it just kind of slipped out.

And you know Dad.

He booked a flight to Vegas
before we even got off the phone.

That's okay. I mean, yeah, it's okay.

It's... No...

It's okay, it's okay.

CHAVEZ: You lied to us, Ted.

You told us you were a contractor,

hired to build a boat ramp.

You don't have a contractor's license.

According to the State
of Nevada, you never did.

I guess I'm more of a casual handyman.

That doesn't explain
why the two day laborers

who worked at the property
don't recognize you.

How about you?

You recognize him?

CHAVEZ: You never worked at that cabin.

No. You just played
along to make us think

you were supposed to
be there. Are you sure?

That's not the guy I saw.

WILLOWS: This is what you designed.

A real-life game of
Assassin. You took advantage

of troubled, potentially
violent individuals

and blackmailed them into
taking each other out.

Sounds like a good plan.

I'm sorry, but it does.

I mean, takes out the
trash, does humanity a favor,

keeps everyone's hands clean.

You think your hands are clean?

Whoever did this,

I don't know, should
get a medal or something,

but it wasn't me.

Uh, Ted...

You don't have any proof.

Oh, no, that's where you're wrong.

We pulled DNA from this bungee cord.

A man with heterochromia sweat on it

while he was stringing
up Diane Auerbach.

Bet it matches you.

Okay, so, I touched a
bungee cord on a jobsite.

I'm not denying that.

Cut the crap, Ted.

You blackmailed these people

to get them to k*ll each other,

and when we started to get too
close, you decided to go after

the director of the crime lab, Max Roby.

Is Maxine watching right now?

Gotcha.

How'd you know "Max"
was short for "Maxine"?

You think you're the smartest
one in the room, don't you?

I wouldn't bet on that.

Guess we'll find out
which one of us is right.

Belly of the beast.

Yeah, here we are.

(EXHALES) In a serial k*ller's house.

Sure missed this.

Let's just hope Mr. Hester
doesn't keep his house

as clean as his crime scene.

♪ ♪

Hope it's a good omen this time.

(WHIRRING)

Chavez.

CHAVEZ: What's that?

(EXHALES)

♪ ♪

FOLSOM: You saw a
flourishing patch of cucumbers

and thought, "Bet there's
a body under there."

Excuse me, nitrogen from decaying tissue

can cause increased
chlorophyll production

in plants growing over a shallow grave.

And, if you'd seen the drawings,

you would've thought the same.

Folsom.

Grandma?

You told your neighbors

that your grandmother moved to Sarasota,

but she never left home, did she?

ROBY: Did your granny know

about your twisted little fantasies?

She was the one who sent me

to Dr. Auerbach in the first place.

She promised I'd get better.

And for years, I thought I did.

Changed my pattern of
thought, like Auerbach said.

I could control the urges.

Until you couldn't.

She was just skin and bone.

Just one little knock to the head

and she went down so... easy.

Why?

Why not?

What about Diane Auerbach, hmm?

Well, she was supposed to fix me.

RAJAN: But she failed, clearly.

But why k*ll her now?

You.

You did that.

You were talking to
her, making her think.

She called me.

She suspected.

- It was you we saw at her house.
- Yeah.

I had to clean up everything
that she had on me.

It took a little... convincing,

but she told me where to find it all.

ROBY: So we were getting close.

And you had to move fast.

(SOBBING)

But you still couldn't resist
the urge to stage your scene

just like those fantasies
that you couldn't shake.

I was born with these fantasies.

They're as much a part of me

as your left hand is a part of you.

Death lives inside of me.

Why not use that?

What do you mean, use it?

I knew I could make the
world a better place.

I knew I could...

cull the rotten fruit.

You stole files from Diane Auerbach

and other child psychiatrists.

No, these doctors, the Auerbachs,

the-the Sarkisians, the rest,

they think they can help,
but my way is better.

I found people like me,

and I used the death inside
them to solve the problem.

So, you set the wheel rolling.

One kills the next, kills the next,

and on and on until
there's only one left.

Alan Herskovitz, Richard Sloan...

It was in them all along.

They all k*lled with just a tiny push.

I'd hardly call blackmail a tiny push.

Also, what about the other people?

Lynn Zobrist, Lamont Moore.

ROBY: Molly Tate.

I mean, none of those people

were going to be
pushed to m*rder. Right?

I'm not batting a thousand,

but none of them were going to
be president of the PTA, right?

No one is going to miss them.

We're missing something.

He's giving us everything.

Not yet.

ROBY: I would like to
ask you about these cards.

This writing here.

I can't tell you anything about that.

I didn't write those.

I have no idea what that means.

You see this guy?

In the white room,

these squiggly...
symbols? That's not me.

That's my MVP.

(CHUCKLES)

ROBY: Okay, Ted, there's
no reason for you to lie.

We're late in the game.

I'm telling you the truth.

And you're right,

I have no reason not to.

I set out to find people like me.

Potential serial K*llers.

And I did.

I found a real champ.

And even though I'm in here,

he's out there, playing the game.

And he's going to win by a landslide.

- (DOOR CLOSES)
- He claims the white room isn't his.

I don't think he's lying.

The DNA we found in the white
room doesn't match Ted Hester.

What? Whose is it?

ROBY: So that was the plan,

to take out the last man
standing yourself, huh?

TED: Of course.

But you made that
pretty impossible, so...

I gave my best player a real challenge.

You're all in the game now.

May the best man win.

(THUDDING)

(WOMAN SCREAMING)