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No!

Hello?

What are you doing here?

That's a...

17th century Japanese katana.

It's very expensive.

And sharp.

Are you real?

Find me.

Who are you?

It's just a dream.

Just my subconscious
having a laugh.

Playing a joke on me.

Yikes.

It's just a dream.

So...

my dreams aren't getting
any better.

That's one way of describing it.

This nightmare represented

everything
I've been going through.

How so?

My subconscious...

is manifesting
the central question

that's been torturing me ever
since I went back to my father.

What happened after I found
the girl in the box?

Your missing time.

But as soon as I
get close to getting answers...

Your father's thrown
in solitary,

and the FBI
takes you off the case.

Literal dagger in my heart.

- Hmm.
- It's almost too on the nose,

if you ask me.

You disagree?

I can't disagree
with your feelings, Malcolm.

They're yours.

But there is another way
of reading that nightmare.

Were you aroused by this dream?

Sexually?

I was skewered.

Penetrated...

by a sword.

Fine.

There were...

some erotic elements.

Malcolm...

what if this dream...

is a different part
of your subconscious

demanding to be heard?

The part that needs sleep...

food...

sex.

It's a little Freudian,
but I'll go with it.

Not everything
is about your father.

Maybe this is your chance to...

make a change.

Do something... normal.

Normalcy?

Mm-hmm.

Sounds weird, but, uh...

Taxi!

Malcolm?

Eve.

Um...

Uh, oh, uh,
what are you doing here?

I live down the block.

That's crazy.

My therapist is right here.

You're in therapy?

Walk me to my train?

Sure.

I've been meaning to ask.
Your mother, how is she?

Uh, no longer armed.

Uh, still a little dangerous.

Perfect. All women
should be a little dangerous.

Um...

Eve, can I...

can I ask you a question?

Would you like
to go out with me sometime?

- What?
- Tomorrow night.

We could add dinner,

trip to the Met, Rhode Island...

I don't know,
I-I'm still workshopping it.

Okay.

It's a date.

I have to run.

Will you text me the details?

Done.

I'm on it.

Hey, Gil.

Murder?

Great.

Uh, sorry.
I don't mean great as in great.

I...

Forget it.

I'm on my way.

Vic is David Saverstein.

He and his wife
own the apartment.

Maid called it in.

This place is nice.

He some kind of bigwig?

His wife is. Beth Saverstein.

She works at a hedge fund
downtown.

Hello, Edrisa.

Cause of death?

Hiya. And yes.

His skull was bashed in.

So...

probably not the happy ending
he was hoping for.

Did this happen before, during

or after the sex?

Oh, well, based on the...

uh, well, all of this,

after, definitely after.

I'll have to perform a thorough
examination before I can tell

how long he lasted.

I mean...

I mean how long he lived

after the sexual activity.

Murder weapon?

Candlestick in the bedroom.

I had my money
on the wrench in the library.

Mm, you telling jokes now?

Trying it out.

Where's the wife?

She's not been picking up
her cell.

Initial thoughts?

This was a crime of passion.

- Ya think?
- Crimes of passion

are wildly misunderstood.

The average person
can't be triggered

to such a specific

and violent act of rage.

But sex...

is like psychological gasoline.

The wrong emotional spark,
and you get...

an explosion.

Oh, you get
an explosion, all right.

Sorry.

Could the wife have done this?

Perhaps.

But if Beth is our killer,

she walked in on the sex,
she wasn't having it.

The candles,
the clothes strewn about,

this wasn't married sex.

David was having an affair.

Hey, I've been with my wife
for seven years.

Married sex can be plenty hot.

All I mean is,

uh, in a long-term relationship,

postcoital holding can be
drastically reduced.

I went to a cuddle party once.

It was okay.

We can talk about it later.

Excuse me.

Hello, Mother.

Oh, Malcolm, how are you?

Honestly, I'm pretty...

I'm terrible, too.

What with this interview looming

and that junkyard killer
dominating the headlines,

the press is having a field day
all at my expense.

Yes, I agree.

This is...
definitely all about you.

Tell me,
how's it going with the FBI?

They've made it very clear
they don't need me on the case.

I thought you were the best.

At least
that's what I tell people

when I'm forced to divulge
your actual career.

When it comes to me and the FBI,
whatever the opposite

of nepotism is...
that's what I've got.

But I've been speaking
to Gabrielle.

I had breakfast, which is
a meal that's new to me

but I'm intrigued by.

Oh, I even ran into Eve,

- and we're going to...
- Eve? My Eve? And what?

- Where?
- Mother, I, uh, I have to...

You're going on a date?

Did you tell her?

About Eve? Uh, yeah,
it kind of slipped out.

No.

The Girl in the Box.

That she was real.

Uh...

I haven't found the right time.

She deserves to know, Bright.

- I know.
- Oh, my God!

What happened here?

- No. Th-This is outrageous.
- Ma'am, ma'am,

- Somebody needs to tell me.
- just give me a second.

It's okay. I've got this.

- Are you Beth Saverstein?
- Yes. This is my apartment.

Mrs. Saverstein, I am
very sorry to tell you this.

Your husband was murdered
last night.

No, he wasn't.

He's in the hall
with our daughter.

Beth?

Beth? Are you...

Officers, what's going on?

If that's David, then...

who's the dead guy in the bed?

I mean, imagine if we'd been
here instead of Connecticut.

You don't live here full-time?

Uh, we have a house
in Greenwich,

where I spend most of my time.

Beth comes into the city
for work.

We came back for a friend's
engagement party today.

Where is Molly?

She's with Detective Tarmel.

He's... good with kids.

Do you have any idea

how the victim
got into your home?

Does anyone else have access
to your apartment?

Only the s-super.

Uh, and the housekeeper.

We're gonna need their names.

Mrs. Saverstein, this is a lot.

Would you like to take a break?

David can handle
the rest of the questions.

Excuse me.

Don't scream.

You don't want your husband
to know you're a smoker.

Or...

that you knew the victim.

I have no idea who he is.

You're lying to me.

Which is okay.

I'm not really a cop.

But the people I'm here with...

they are.

His name's Caleb Hardy.

We slept together sometimes

when I was in the city.

But it wasn't romantic.

What was it then?

We were...

We were part of a group.

A... community.

We explore fantasies
with other...

...players.

Polyamorous adults?

Yes.

But it's all very curated.

Curated by whom?

Jasper St. George.

He connects members
with compatible interests

and provides access
to luxury apartments,

like mine.

And you offered
your pied-à-terre

when you joined the group.

Which means

any number of people
could've entered the apartment.

Caleb was a good man.

He didn't deserve this.

Are you sure your husband
didn't know about your...

hobby?

God, no.

I love David,
but he would never understand.

So how do I meet Jasper?

He-he only communicates
via e-mail.

Great.

I'll drop him a line.

Caleb Hardy
was killed last night

by blunt force trauma
to the occipital bone.

Based on the bleeding
and fractures, I'm estimating

three to four strikes.

So our killer
was very passionate.

Talk to me about Caleb's gonads.

Oh, with pleasure.
Upon examination,

we found living sperm in Caleb's
urethra, which indicate...

W-W...

Why'd you point over there?

That's where Caleb's penis is.

I'm out.

Based on his sperm's motility,

Caleb was alive for at least
a half hour after sex.

So, you know, it wasn't
the worst night ever.

Uh, was Caleb married?

Single. Trust fund kid.
Grew up in the city.

What about Beth Saverstein?

Were you able to match her
to any of...

what was on Caleb?

The vaginal secretions?

Yes, Edrisa. Thank you.

We swabbed Beth on the scene,
and she isn't a match.

She has an alibi, too.
Work dinner.

And her husband, David,
was watching football

- with his fantasy league.
- Yeah, well,

his fantasy league was nothing
compared to his wife's.

I made some calls.
And the second that I mentioned

Jasper St. George
or his community,

nobody wanted to talk.

Tech Services is still trying
to run down that e-mail address.

All right,
we need to find someone

in the sex industry who
can get us keyed in to Jasper.

I may know a guy.

'Course you do.

You sure your guy's here?

No.

But how great is it
to get out of the office?

Hey, can I, uh,

ask you a normal question?

I don't think so,
but give it a shot.

I need some advice
on a first date.

Nothing special.

Just a regular guy taking out

an incredible
human rights advocate.

What's the move?

That's a normal question?

Well... I wouldn't start here.

It's always fun
to do something active.

Brings you closer.

Friendly competition.

My wife and I like to play pool

every Friday night
at Amsterdam Billiards.

Sounds perfect.

Oh, here's our friend.

Nico.

How are you, buddy?

I'm gonna chop off your hand!

What?

No.

You?

What are you doing here?

Relax, Nico. We were just
hoping you could help us.

The guy whose hand
you chopped off?

You mean the guy I saved.

What are you doing here
and how did you find me?

Well, I've been
meaning to visit.

I heard you bought this fetish
shop with your settlement money,

and I'm always on the hunt
for a good headboard restraint.

You're a small business owner
now?

I'm proud of you, man.

Look, I'm not gonna
talk to you guys.

So, please, just get out of...

Wow.

What did I tell you
about reattachment surgery?

This looks great.

Just need some help, Nico.

Please.

What is it?

Jasper St. George.

Sex concierge
to the freaky elite.

You know him?

Do you know
how we can get ahold of him?

You don't.

Jasper gets ahold of you.

And he'd never talk to cops.

What if I wanted to meet him,

not as a cop,

but as a potential client?

Would that work?

Jasper isn't just looking
for pretty faces.

To be a player,
you have to have money

and a swanky apartment.

What if I had both of those?

Could you set up
an introduction?

Stop fidgeting.

- You look great.
- This guy's late.

I don't like it.

Doesn't necessarily mean
we've been found out.

Jasper might just be testing
your patience.

Just have a breadstick.

Sorry.
Midtown gridlock.

Oh, you must have me confused
with someone else.

I'm meeting...

Jasper. I know.

I'm Simone.

Oh, you didn't think

Jasper actually does these
himself, did you?

It would ruin his whole
mystery man persona.

So,

how did you hear about us?

Uh, Beth Saverstein.

Uh...

I've been looking
to make a change,

to explore a side of myself

that I've buried too long.

Something inside you
wants to get out?

Nothing too crazy.

Oh, don't sell yourself short.

Take the crazy out of sex
and what do you have?

Boring sex.

We only have one rule
in our community:

no relationships.

Lust is easy.

Love is dangerous.

Drinks are paid for.

Let's go.

Uh, where to?

Your place.

I need to sample the product.

We're going to have sex.

Are you up for that?

I... could give it a shot.

I'd appreciate some guidelines
on how far I'm permitted

- to take this.
- How far would you like

to be permitted to take this?

Relax.
We're right outside.

Just try to get as much intel
as you can

before it all goes south.

Is this fun for you?

I'm having a pretty good time.

Take off your jacket.

Right.

Oh, no.

Who was that?

My realtor.

So, uh,

this is an unconventional
screening process.

Though I suppose I wouldn't
recommend a restaurant

I hadn't eaten at.

In order for Jasper
to perfectly match players

he needs to know
their abilities.

And their desires.

Jasper sounds
like an interesting man.

Is there anything else
you can tell me about him?

He's a genius
when it comes to human desire.

He knows what we want,

what we need.

So...

here we are, I guess.

I love a man
who has his own restraints.

Do you like it rough?

Well, I have
a high threshold for pain, so...

Bright?

Bright, are you okay?

Was that too rough?

That? No.

Though I may have lost
a contact.

Um, why don't we,
uh, just...

You're a cop?

Police. Open up.

No.

But they are.

We need you
to bring us to Jasper.

I can't.

I don't know his real name,

where he lives.

We communicate only...

Over e-mail.

We've heard this before.

And this time
we don't believe it.

Then arrest me.
For attempting

to have consensual sex
with another adult.

Or you could tell me what the
hell is really going on here.

Caleb Hardy was murdered.

Mr. Hardy had intercourse

the night of his death.

We think with another one
of your players.

Yes.

It was me.

And now you think I killed him.

- Did you?
- Were you in love with him?

Answer my question first.

No.

I didn't kill him.

I took him to bed,

enjoyed myself,

then left.

And I loved his body,

the way it made me feel.

I loved that I could have him
without consequence.

That's all.

Would you submit to a DNA test?

If my lawyer advises it.

Aren't you affected by this?

I'm devastated.

But that's not for you to see.

We need names.

Caleb's other partners,
anyone who was upset with him.

A player didn't do this.

We screen our clients
for emotional maturity

and sexual openness.

It's my job to make sure those
tendencies you're talking about

never make it
into our community.

I enforce the rules.

Lust is easy.

Love is dangerous.

You were listening.

Oh, right.

You all were.

Here's my card.

I'm leaving.

What makes you think that...

I practiced law for years.

If you were arresting me,
I'd already be in handcuffs.

And not the fun kind.

Wait. Is there anybody
outside the community

we should know about?

Jasper received
an anonymous message

about Caleb and Beth
breaking the rules.

He assumed her husband
had found out about the group

and wanted them kicked out.

Do you think he was jealous?

Husbands usually are.

Molly!

If you keep pointing the stick
at Lucien,

I'm gonna have to take it away!

It's fine.

Hello, David.

What are you doing here?

We have things to talk about.

Like the traffic cam footage
that places you in the city

an hour before that party

at your apartment.

Hey, I'm Stacy.

Lucien's Mom.

Which one's yours?

Oh, I don't have kids.

Tricky childhood.

I'm not really dad material.

Ah.

Also I'm wildly dependent
on benzos, so...

Hey, um,

Stacy is also
the dean of admissions

at the elementary school
that Molly's looking at.

Oh, I see.

Oh, the application process
must be very thorough.

How do you feel about sex clubs?

Oh, he's funny.

Lucien Almodovar Chen!

Do not put that in your mouth!

This is a public park!

You know, the, uh,

jealous cuckold
is really among

the more banal motives.

That isn't what happened.

Don't lie to me, David.

You went through Beth's phone.

You found out
about her other life...

the players, all of it.

You even knew about Caleb.

I didn't know anything.

I had my suspicions.

The next time
she stayed in the city,

I planned to confront them.

What happened?

I let myself in.

I wanted to catch Beth with him.

I wanted to hurt him.

But I didn't.

The woman in the bed
wasn't Beth.

No.

And I froze.

And there were strangers
in my apartment

in my bed having sex.

I didn't know what to do, so

I left before they saw me.

Daddy?

Hey, honey.

Why don't you go say goodbye
to your friends, okay?

We have to get going.

The guy was alive
when I left that room.

Okay?
I swear to God.

I hope that's true.

For her sake.

Molly.

Come on.

Let's get ready for your date.

Sure.

This is normal.

Be a dear, step up.

Have you given
any thought to a venue?

First impressions are important.

Your activity says so much
about your intentions.

- Mother.
- You know, the opera

sets a very romantic mood.

Followed by a long flight
on the helicopter.

No.

Tonight's going to be normal.

Darling, we're rich.

We don't do normal.

I know.

Aah!

Vincenzo, give us the room.

Talk to me.

I don't want you taking
whatever this is

on the date with you.

Clear your mind.

Tell me what's wrong.

I'm sorry, Mother.

Right now is not a good time.

Thank you for trying.

But I know what I'm wearing.

Oh, hell no.

It's so conventional.

Unaffected.

You're right.

This is great.

We're a bit overdressed.

He's always
overdressed.

Shooting pool was an example,
not an invitation.

Still, thrilled to see you.

Meet Eve Blanchard.

Hello.

JT Tarmel.

My wife is...

Malcolm Bright?

How do you...?

Uh, $10,000 suit.

Wild guess.

I'm Tally.

Oh!

You are gorgeous.

- Oh...
- Here, take JT's.

Uh, thank you and thanks.

Honey?

Honey, run back
to the bar, would you?

I swear...

JT told me about
the psychic thing that you do.

How you, like,

get inside the killer's head.

How do you do that?

Uh... had a lot of training.

At Quantico.

Tally, give the man some room.

I plan to make some money
off his rich ass.

Uh, next time,

we should play squash.

I'm very good at squash.

Right.

Good thing I'm here.

Damn.

If he'd told me
what we were doing tonight,

I could've told him
I was good.

Ooh!

Hey, shouldn't you
have known that?

Like, being a profiler and all?

Ooh, can you do one of us?

It's behavioral science, hon,
not a party trick.

Do me.

You don't want me
to profile you.

I think I can handle it.

Okay, uh... you're not
from my mother's world,

but you blend in effortlessly.

But you are equally
as comfortable

in a lower social strata.

Social strata... who says that?

Uh, this is a clinical analysis.

- Okay.
- Or do we not admit to our country's inherent class system?

Okay.

You were raised middle class.

I'm hearing the Carolinas.

You're very smart.

Elegant.

Social.

That didn't drive you
to New York.

Your work.

To end human trafficking.

There's a reason for that.

An event.

Something deeply personal
drove you here.

In truth, it was a Saab.

The faded heart tattoo
on your wrist.

Looks like it's
over 15 years old.

Which means you got it
when you were just a teen.

Young.

An adult would've had
to have been with you.

Which gives it
real significance.

But it's not broken.

It's split.

So, who has the other half?

A woman.

Mother?

Sister?

Bright.

Right... they're gone.

Whatever happened to them
motivated you

to help other women.

But no matter
how many people you save,

you can't save
the other half of that heart.

Eve, wait.

Uh... I am so sorry.

JT's right.

It's not a party trick.

Oh, sorry.

Hon, we got to go.

Dani found Jasper.

Tech Services traced Jasper St.
George's I.P. address.

The apartment
is listed under a trust.

That looks like blood.

Call the bus.

Emergency services.

Who is he?

Charles Garner.

Address matches.

Riluzole?

It's a glutamate blocker.

And that's a wheelchair.

Charles Garner had ALS.

He was dying.

And someone sped up the process.
Why?

Because he was also
Jasper St. George.

You're profiling a dead guy?

No, just reading the room.

Professor Charles Garner.

Columbia's
Computer Science Department.

He developed early
personality-matching software

for dating services.

Sold his work
to Google and Facebook.

Then got sick.

Look at that.

Simone.

They were married.

Charles and Simone...
why would she hide that?

For him.

She didn't want her husband
to spend his final days

in an interrogation room.

She loved him.

Couldn't imagine leaving him,
but the disease

robbed them of their intimacy.

So he created something
for his wife.

A network of strangers

looking for sex
with no strings attached.

He built a community

where she could find intimacy...

a fantasy life, an escape

from all of this.

Almost sounds romantic.

Central pulled this image
off security footage.

Our killer leaving
the building an hour ago.

Look familiar?

Is that Simone?

Looks that way to me.

Kind of puts a hole
in your theory.

That doesn't make any sense.

Simone's femme fatale act...

the fantasy
allowed her to escape.

Her normal life was here.

Call Simone.
I'll do the talking.

I respect the profile,

but she's still
our best suspect.

Who is this?

Simone, this is Gil Arroyo
with the NYPD.

- I'm sorry to tell you...
- Don't be sorry,

just call my lawyer
and leave me out of this.

Good night.

Simone, it's about Charles.

Your husband is dead.

Wait. N-No.

No, no, I talked
to him an hour ago.

He was fine.

Where are you?
I need you

to come into the station.

Simone?

What the...?

Simone, where are you?

She's gone.

The real killer took her.

Where you going?

I meant to say
I know who the killer is.

NYPD, Mr. Saverstein.

We're coming in.

What's going on?

Excuse me.

Hey!
What's going on?

Where's Beth?

She went back to Greenwich.

We had a fight,
as you can see.

Is your daughter here?

Molly is with her aunt.
What is this about?

There was another murder
tonight. A woman is missing.

We need to do a search.

What are you doing?

Thinking about our chat
in the park.

Your story.

How you came into the city

to confront Beth and Caleb.

In this very room.

Except it wasn't
Beth and Caleb.

It was someone else.

I told you all of this already.

To see them, you had to step
into the room.

That's when you saw
the other woman and froze.

Your words.

Listen, I want you out of here.

Come on, David.

With all these reflections,

all the mirrors, there's no way

they couldn't see you
standing there.

Watching.

But you like to watch,
don't you?

David, if you know something,

this is the time
to start talking.

- We checked everywhere.
- Place is empty.

Yeah, it's about time.

I want you all
to go now, please.

You didn't come here
to confront your wife.

You were here to watch.

But the wrong woman
showed up in bed with Caleb.

In the park,
you did the same thing.

When I said his name... Caleb...

you avoided eye contact.

You took a moment
to bury something.

What?

Anger?

Sadness?

Beth liked Caleb, didn't she?

More than the others.

No.

She was in love with him.

The players weren't allowed
to fall in love.

Tell me, David.

Did Beth break the rules?

Did she fall in love?

Did she kill Caleb?

This was where you watched them.

It's the best angle.

From behind this glass,

you watched Beth kill Caleb.

I can't.

David, is someone behind there?

- Is it Beth?
- She's the mother of my child.

I tried to stop her.

Get down!

Stay with me, David.

Drop the gun, Beth.

Caleb was mine.

But she kept taking him to bed.

My bed.

I told him

to stop, but he wouldn't.

So you e-mailed Jasper,

trying to get you both expelled.

That didn't work,

so you came here
to confront Caleb.

Give him one more chance...

to leave with you.

He was never going to leave.

He was gonna tell...

Simone

and Jasper...

what I did.

How I felt.

So you killed him.

A crime of passion.

But then passion
turned to paranoia.

Jasper was bound
to figure you out.

So you lied to us 'cause

you were planning
on killing him next.

And now Simone,
the woman Caleb

could never give up.

She... had everything.

No, Beth.

Her husband was dying.

All Simone wanted

was a few hours of pleasure.

The femme fatale...

that's not who she is.

Just like this
isn't who you are.

Businesswoman.

A wife.

A mother.

No. No.

No.

Malcolm is avoiding me.
I need to know why.

Jessica.

I have called and called.
He says he's fine,

he ate breakfast,
he's going on a date.

He was on
a homicide investigation.

He's overcompensating
and lying to himself.

And he is keeping something
from me.

Now I am asking you...

The girl in the box was real.

Oh.

Paul Lazar confirmed it.

He told Bright
there was a body in that trunk.

He gave us her bracelet.

Why didn't he tell me?

He didn't want you to feel this.

We denied his pain for years,

and insisted that
this girl he found

was the stuff of dreams.

- Martin manipulated him.
- Mm.

- And you.
- It gets worse.

All the time.

I keep thinking
that we will get through it,

get through him.

But it gets worse.

Martin destroyed the lives
of my children, myself

and every one of his victims.

Maybe it's time that I find
a way to return the favor.

- Hey.
- Hey.

I'm sorry about earlier.

I didn't mean
to make you feel...

dissected.

It was dumb.

I was just trying
to be sexy and brave.

You're both.

I just, uh...

Sometimes I can't turn it off.

I'm never gonna be normal.

I-I... I've tried, but...

And I'm probably insane

for thinking any woman would
ever want to be in my life,

let alone you.

You scare me, Malcolm Bright.

You scare me, too.

What do you want?

Find me.

I'm trying.

How can you?

You don't even remember

who I am.

Hello, Malcolm.

What are you doing?

Oh, my God!
Bright, Bright, wake up!

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Subtitles by explosiveskull
www.OpenSubtitles.org

Greg, move your head.

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