All language subtitles for Instinct.US.S02E01.WEB.x264-TBS

Previously on Instinct.

My name is professor Reinhart.

Welcome to Intro to Psychopath.

Detective Elizabeth Needham, NYPD.

We're hoping your expertise

can help us find out who the killer is.

You're not just some
boring old professor.

You're CIA? Retired.

Welcome to the team, Mr. Reinhart.

What, you can't access sealed documents?

That's why they're sealed.

- That's why I have friends.
- Don't tell me you need Intel,

and the NYPD is slowing you down.

You're gonna be a great father.

And child would be lucky
to have you and Andy

as their dads.

- Just in case.
- If I were to call,

what would I call you?

Julian.

Was the evidence
in that live-streaming case

properly obtained?

You should not punish
Lizzie for my mistake.

You should fire me.

Jogger found her.

Whoever did this

took the time
to make her look comfortable.

Right after he bashed her head in.

Maybe he staged it this way
to throw us off.

Or maybe they murdered her
and felt guilty after.

Killer's remorse.

Killer's remorse?
Don't get all intellecty on me.

"Intellecty"?

What are you, Dr. Dylan Reinhart?

While there are five major
psychiatric disorders,

I think there should be
a sixth: happiness.

Happiness is statistically abnormal.

Think about it, do you know
more happy people or unhappy?

And what the hell is happiness anyway?

What makes me happy
may not make you happy.

Hello? Hello? Who's there?

Who's out there?

I-I can't open this.

Help me! Please, someone.

It won't open.

Help me! Please!

Dear old Epicurus may have
defined happiness

as the supreme good, but he also
cautioned his followers

that being happy ain't easy.

Spoiler alert, life often sucks.

Like you getting suspended
from the police department?

Happens to the best of us.

You know, we have people

to take crime scene photos.

What are you thinking?

Hey!

Stop!

Look out!

Watch it!

This would've been so much
easier if you'd just stayed put.

Happiness means different things
to different people.

Take narcissists.
Go ahead, take them. Ha ha.

Narcissists' self-esteem

is based on being better than you.

So if you fail, they're happy.

Do we have any narcissists in this room?

Oh, come on. I know you're out there.

More than six percent of the population

have Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Jenny. Stand up.

If you promise to speak honestly with me,

I will let you choose your grade
for this semester. Sound good?

Deal.

Okay. So you can either

have a B-plus
and everybody else gets an A,

or you can have a B-minus,

and everybody else gets a C.

If I take the B-plus, I'll have
the lowest grade in the class?

Uh-huh. But it's still a B-plus.

Or you could have a B-minus,

and all these slackers get a C.

Take the B-plus!

B-minus, all the way.

Ha ha.

Congratulations, Jenny,

you are now top of the class,

and subjectively happy.

See you Thursday.
Thank you all very much.

There you are.

Way to go, Needham.
I'll take it from here.

- Couldn't have done it without you.
- Sergeant Harris.

Sarge, what's going on?

Another body. Up there.

And across the street
from our first victim.

Looks like we've caught a
not-so-remorseful spree killer.

Come on. You're going to jail.

Oh, I'm here to see Detective Needham.

Thank you.

No way, Reinhart. You know the rules.

Lieutenant Gooden forbade you
from all crime scenes.

I know. Nice to see you, too.

Professor Psychopath.

You can't be here, Lou's orders.

That's what I told him.

He doesn't listen very well.

- I'll get rid of him.
- Here you go, Sarge.

You coming?

You're gonna get me into trouble.

Vic is Justine Crowley, 32,
a Steve Jobs-level genius

who believed human immortality
is achievable.

Perhaps motivated by
death anxiety, a fear of death,

sometimes called thanatophobia,

not to be confused with necrophobia,

which is a fear of others
who are dead or dying.

What do you call a fear
of dying from boredom?

Um, thaasophobia.

The vic started this business
to help people live longer.

Uh, media called her Robo Boss.

Apparently she remained
emotionally disconnected

from her employees
and pretty much everyone.

Oh, so you two have something in common.

Her husband saw the machine was
on when he arrived this morning,

with a meditation stick locking her in.

He opened it and found the vic inside.

A cryotherapy chamber.

Some believe it's the fountain of youth.

Ugh, a fountain that spits out

nitrogen vapor at 200 degrees
below Fahrenheit,

engulfing whoever's inside.

On the plus side, you'll look super.

Maximum time is three minutes.

We don't know yet how long

she was in there. Possibly hours.

Hey, hey.

You don't have gloves on.

We're processing the entire
staff, including her husband.

Good, because whoever did this
clearly knew her.

I'd say an inside job.

Right.

You follow your theories,

and I'll stick to the facts.

This was not a quick, painless death.

Her heart rate increased,

violent shivering,
disorientation, frostbite.

Whoever did this was angry
at her. Very angry.

While she looks like that,

the other victim
in the photograph you sent me

was carefully laid out.

The same mind could not have
executed both killings.

Their proximity is a
coincidence, which means

there is no spree killer,
and the Upper East Side is safe.

So, lunch?

This gentleman set up
Vim's security system.

What is Reinhart still doing here?

Oh. He won't leave.

Sergeant Harris, aren't
you just a little happy

- to see me?
- Detective Needham.

Ian Bridgecroft, Bridgecroft Security.

Uh, you set up the system here?

Yeah. I don't know how this could happen.

My system is airtight,
with triple redundancies.

Uh-huh. Uh, aside from
the Crowleys, your staff

and the employees here at Vim,

is there anyone else who would
know how to bypass your system?

I created the system
so that couldn't happen.

Everyone who has access is given
their own personal code.

- Okay.
- But

I have my staff
double-checking everything.

Okay. We'll be in touch.

- Okay.
- Thanks.

Looks like an inside job.

This is where you say you were right,

because you're always right,

because you're Dr. Dylan Reinhart.

Hello?

Only a sadistic killer would trap a woman

in her own cryo chamber
so she freezes to death.

But sadistic killers like to watch

their terrified victim's reactions.

It arouses them, makes them feel godlike.

This murderer couldn't see her die.

So what does that tell you?

I'm not sure.

But one killing is never enough

for a sadistic murderer.

Whoever did this will kill again.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

Two women, both early 30s,
found across the street

from each other, on the same morning.

And you're telling me
they're not connected?

I don't believe so, no.

Road Runner's alibi checked out.

He took off because he broke parole,

was afraid that you might arrest him.

See, that's why I didn't sprint.

'Cause I felt he was clean, in here.

I'm surprised you can
feel anything in there

with all that fried food you eat.

- Eh...
- Fucci, you take the sleeping victim

- in the park case.
- All right.

On it. Gonna call the vic Rip Van Winkle.

No, you're not.

- Lizzie, you stick to the frozen vic.
- Mm-hmm.

We're talking to everyone
who had access to...

- Who's "we"?
- Oh.

It's a figure of speech.
Um, I'm talking to everyone

who had access to Justine's office,

and I'm speaking with her husband soon.

There's no kids, but take a look at this.

Throughout human existence,
religions have focused

on what happens after we die.

The afterlife.

We have the ability to extend human life

for hundreds of years.

But why stop there?

There is no off button on our phones,

so why should we accept one
on our bodies?

Ugh, is there

an off button on our Internet?
It's worse than dialup.

Yeah, a Trojan horse
virus infected the network,

keeps causing the system
to slow down and crash.

Well, just get that tech wiz
with the ponytail

and the halitosis to fix it.

Uh, Travis is on vacation.

The most romantic man
in the world strikes again.

Delivery from David.

He's making the rest of us look pathetic.

David in the doghouse again?

The wedding planning is driving me nuts.

I want to get married before I kill him.

The vic's husband left the morgue.

He's headed back to their office.

And so am I.

♪ Life is but a... dream.

Please tell me you did not
steal that baby.

This is a police station.

A woman said she had to
get fingerprinted for a job.

I offered, she accepted.

I guess I must look trustworthy.

Ah, here she is.

- Thank you so much.
- Of course.

- Bye.
- Bye.

Bye-bye.

We'll have one we can keep soon.

We got knocked off the adoption horse,

but we're gonna get right back on it.

Probably not the best metaphor, but yeah.

I'm ready. Speaking of ready,

did you practice what we went over?

Of course I did.

Well, it's only your job
on the line, right?

- And don't forget to apologize.
- I did apologize.

Your apologies aren't really apologies.

When you say "sorry," you try
and make the other person

feel as if they should be
apologizing to you.

Well, after all the crimes
I helped solve,

Lieutenant Gooden should be apologiz...

Mm.

You're right, I probably
shouldn't even go in there.

You should handle this on your own.

Hard pass.

Nice to finally meet you, Andy.

When I saw you walk in
I thought Dylan had

brought his lawyer, not his husband.

Yeah, well, I'm, uh... I'm both.

I thought it might be helpful

to clarify some of the finer points

of Dylan's consultancy contract,

which you may not even be aware of.

But, uh, first...

Um...

I, um...

I'm-I'm-I'm...

I'm very... I'm-I'm sorry.

Give me a minute, I'm all choked up.

Dylan acknowledges that he broke protocol

on the Steampunk case,
and he completely understands

that you cannot ignore such a breach.

I'm not about to let a case fall apart

because someone, who's not even a cop,

made some... let's call them missteps.

Or we could call them...

The good news is that Dylan's...
missteps fall clearly

under the legal safeguard
of inevitable discovery.

His actions merely sped up
an investigative process

while a gruesome murder was unfolding.

Dylan's expediency would
hold up in any court,

and in no way endangers a guilty verdict.

Still, it's my team. My responsibility.

True, but Dylan's contract
isn't with you,

or even with the NYPD.

It's with the City of New York.

Dylan was the mayor's hire, not yours,

so the onus falls on her,

not you.

What's to say he won't do this again?

Sorry.

I will operate within the NYPD rules.

Dylan... I like you.

And I respect how stupid-smart you are.

And I know how hard your job is,

and I respect how well you do it.

But, if I were to let you return,

you would fall under my command,

and you will follow my rules.

Justine was the most incredible woman.

She wanted to make a difference
in people's lives.

- She was my best friend.
- I'm so sorry.

If I could ask you some
questions, it may help.

Was it unusual for Justine to get here

so early in the morning?

Justine's passion drove her.

She felt like the idea of her
helping people live longer

was why she was put on Earth.

You two worked together?

I run our charitable foundation.

People say never work with your spouse,

but it made us closer.

Mr. Crowley, this is Dr. Dylan Reinhart.

He's, uh...

Her partner.

Your wife had a reputation

of being emotionally
disconnected from her staff.

Could that have led someone
to want to hurt her?

Maybe in the past.

- What changed?
- Justine did.

Around a year ago, she wasn't happy.

She-she wanted people
to know her, not fear her.

She wanted to have friends.
And she did it.

That kind of change doesn't come easily.

Justine worked her butt off to open up.

Of all her accomplishments,

that's what she was most proud of.

Thank God I told her every day
how much I loved her.

Did he seem a little too perfect?

Why, because he understood his wife?

I think you're identifying with Justine,

someone who puts work
before everything else.

He turned her from Robo
Boss to Mother Teresa.

That's quite a gift.
And don't analyze me.

You make it so easy.

I'm not that transparent.

Only because you don't want anyone to see

- what's going on inside.
- Please stop making me miss Fucci.

If anyone seems too perfect,
it's Justine Crowley.

You can't be that driven, that successful

and change that quickly
without leaving a few

bumps and bruises.

Let's see if she has any.

Someone who believes
in immortality dying so young?

Now, that's ironic. Here we go.

Frozen dead lady.

Did you determine if there was a struggle

before she froze?

Nope. The quick freezing

would have prevented bruising.

What about time of death?

She's glacial.
I can't tell time of death.

You can't hurry this along?

Like, put her in a microwave?

A "corpsicle" must be thawed

under strictly controlled conditions.

- A corpsicle?
- Otherwise,

the surface areas will decompose

while the core is still ice.

So you're just not gonna do anything?

What do you want me to do? Oh, fun fact:

the human body takes
five to seven days to thaw.

Wow, that's really fun.

How about hair or fiber
on her clothes, DNA, trace...

You guys are really struggling
with the notion of frozen.

Let it go. Let it go.

Once the runoff starts,
I'll let you know.

Find anything on Rip Van Winkle?

- Who?
- The woman laid out in the park,

you know?

The contorted position she was found in

may be due to burrowing,
uh, a protective posture

- she assumed before she died.
- She wasn't burrowing.

Justine was a fighter.

A female CEO. If someone attacked her,

she'd go at 'em tooth and...

Here.

Here, here.

Look at that. Just fell off.

Oh.

Fun fact: fingernails break
in frigid temperatures,

so while you're waiting for runoff,

why don't you I.D.
what's underneath there.

Thank you.

Any plans tonight?

Eh, just a boring night at home. You?

Mm. Same.

How cute was that baby?

- The baby.
- Huh?

Mm. Hold on.

That baby, how cute was she?

Oh. The cutest.

Honey...

I want a baby.

I want to start a family with you.

I know you do, and...

I love how well you know me.

A little...

Oh. Thank you.

Lizzie.

Mm-hmm.

I just like saying it.

I like hearing you say it.

Julian.

Mm. Not bad.

Is that even your real name?

If I tell you, I'll have to kill you.

Oh, you're so mysterious.

Living in the shadows is so dangerous.

It's coming out of the shadows
that's the occupational hazard.

Unless it's worth the risk.

I mean, after all, we all know

that you're a...

Don't say it. Don't say it.

- Don't...
- You're a-a spy?

He's a spy! There's a spy...

Hey, I made, uh, I made reservations

to go out with Lizzie
and Julian to celebrate.

My being unsuspended?

Actually to celebrate
my brilliant legal acumen

saving your ass, but sure,
the job thing works, too.

You were pretty sexy
in Lieutenant Gooden's office.

Don't you objectify me.

But yeah, it was fun.

Made me realize how much I miss it.

Yeah, well, it makes sense.

It's less than a year
since you quit the firm.

I guess change comes slow.

Ah.

Lizzie, I was just about to call you.

Hey, so, TARU sent the data

for Justine's phone.

Uh, for a woman who was
supposedly opening up her life,

she doesn't seem to have many friends.

All of her contacts,
aside from her husband,

are listed under work.

Well, that kind of change
her husband was talking about

doesn't come that fast

without professional help.
Let me check her calendar.

See if she has any standing appointments.

See, everything seems to be
business related.

Wait, wait, uh, here's something.

Wednesdays, 3:00 p.m. Coded "AB."

- Could be a shrink.
- Or an affair.

She's had that appointment
for the past six months,

and last week, it lasted all day.

Oh, definitely not an affair.

Uh, let me pull up her contacts.

Oh, this NYPD network
keeps slowing to a crawl.

Must be that Trojan glitch. Ugh. Hang on.

Uh, okay.

Lots of B's. No AB's yet.

Is there a Dr. B?

Uh, yes. Dr. Alexandra Becker.

Psychiatrist. Park Avenue.

She sees patients at 11:00 p.m.?

New York City, baby.

24-hour restaurants,
drug stores. Why not shrinks?

You don't know what the
hell you're talking about, idiot.

I don't even know why I come here.

You call yourself a doctor?
You're a moron!

Hi, come on in.

It's late to be seeing patients.

I work around my patients' schedules.

I was so sorry to hear about Justine.

She was an incredible woman.

She was really changing the world.

She had a big chunk of her
calendar blocked off

to see you earlier this week,
almost an entire day.

With the type of clients I see,
all-day sessions do happen.

What type of clients do you see?

Psychiatric disorders.

Anxiety, depression, narcissism, trauma.

I'm still not understanding

why they would require all-day sessions.

I see a lot of CEOs, CFOs,

leaders in their respective fields.

If they need me to clear
my schedule, I do it.

Justine was making real progress.

Is that why she didn't have
any more appointments

with you in her book after that long day?

I don't think that's why
Justine terminated treatment.

Why do you think she stopped?

I believe her husband objected.

- Oh. Why?
- He's not my patient to diagnose.

But I know that he was angry
at her for seeking help.

I know he hated her coming here.

And they fought about it, a lot.

Seems like he won that fight.

Justine's history is clean.
Nothing to suggest

that whoever killed her
was nursing an old wound.

Which lines up with Dr. Becker

suggesting it could be Justine's husband.

Oh, sorry if my, uh,
trying to solve this case

is interrupting your texting.

_

That's okay.

You know, I was thinking, maybe
you should see Dr. Becker,

being a narcissist yourself.

- I'm a narcissist?
- Oh, let's see,

you think you're smarter than everyone,

you like telling people what to do,

you always have to dress
better than everybody...

Wait, did you stay up memorizing

the top ten traits of a narcissist?

And you always have
to have the last word.

No, I don't.

Yeah, we fought about it.

Do you know how much we paid
Becker in the last six months?

Quarter million dollars.

Therapy's a racket.

That racket has helped a lot of people.

Maybe your wife was one of them.

It was just the two of us.
Then all of a sudden,

Justine's becoming dependent
on Dr. Becker?

That's what shrinks do.

Make you feel like
the only way to get happy

is to keep lying on their couch.

I thought you wanted her to change.

With my help.

Becker controls her, I'm on the outside,

all for the low, low price
of 1,500 bucks an hour.

Last question.

Does Justine's estate
go to the foundation?

No. It goes to me.

Nothing was tampered with,

and all of your staff checked out.

Glad to hear. I run deep
background before I hire anyone.

I'm just curious, was it Mr.
or Mrs. Crowley who hired you?

He didn't let her make any
decisions about the business.

He said she needed
every ounce of her energy

for being a genius.

Guess they just did their own
thing, as far as I could tell.

Thank you, Mr. Bridgecroft.

Hey, Needham.

Every employee at Vim
Biotechnology Labs checks out.

We're running out of suspects.

Other than Mr. Crowley.

- Oh, and the computers are back up.
- Oh.

Fantasy baseball draft is back on.

Yay. Dude...

I thought Travis was on vacation.

Who's the hero who fixed it?

That guy.

Lizzie, Dylan, meet Jules,
our new computer associate.

Jules, this is
Detective Elizabeth Needham

and Dr. Dylan Reinhart.

Nice to meet you both.

Oh, is this your desk?

It is. If you don't mind, Jules.

Not at all. Good as new.

Great. Then I guess
you'll be on your way.

Unfortunately, no.

While the computer system
is up and running,

the breach is much worse
than I initially thought.

Not only did the spyware
infect the network,

it's infiltrated the entire server.

How long will it take to fix it?

Hard to say. A couple of weeks.
Maybe longer.

I need to completely clean
the system's registry files

and scan the network archive so I can...

- I'm lost. Just fix it, please.
- Yes, miss.

What's all this, Lieutenant?

The DD-5s you'll need to fill out.

Part of our "follow my rules" deal.

What, I have to fill out
one of these every day?

No. You got to fill out one of those

each thing you do, every day.

Hard pass.

Grandiose sense of
self-importance, entitlement...

What the hell are you doing here?

Coming out of the shadows,

and getting your computers working.

You do realize you are putting me,

a person who hates to lie,

in the position
of having to lie every day.

Man, I am really spinning
my wheels on this

- Ms. Van Winkle case.
- Still no.

Who's this guy? Get out of my chair.

He's fixing the computers.

Oh. Make yourself comfortable.

Come on, Doc. Some sicko
crushes a woman's skull,

then makes her look all tucked-in cozy.

I mean, that kind of crazy is right

in your psychopath sweet spot.
What do you think?

- I'd start with killer's remorse.
- Huh.

This just came in from the lab.

DNA from Justine's husband was
found under her fingernails.

Motive and evidence of a fight. Let's go.

Don't get too comfortable.

Computer guy.

Can you help me install Fortnite?

What is Julian up to? Was this your idea?

Oh, sure, I was hoping
to spend more of my life

watching you two flirt.

- It's not a big deal.
- Not a big deal?

A former spy,

who works off the grid in some warlord,

Masters of the Universe dark web,

just created a false backstory
to get himself hired,

under an alias, by the NYPD,
as our homicide techie.

Oh, and we're dating.

Yes, okay, it is a big deal.
But it's his big deal

and your big deal. That's why
I'm staying out of it.

- I don't like pretending.
- Oh, sure you do.

It lets you two continue
without having to be vulnerable.

Just keep keeping on in your bubble.

This should be bothering you, too.

You promised Jasmine that
you'd operate within the NYPD.

Yes, but now that Julian
is working for the NYPD,

he can be an asset
and I can still be a good boy.

Hurt Justine?

- What the hell is wrong with you?
- Oh, well,

it's a very long list,
but she has a thing

about men who kill their wives.

How do you explain your
blood under your wife's nails?

- I don't know.
- Really?

You can't think of why
your blood would be there?

Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy.

Justine tested a new face cream
she was developing on me.

It-it regenerates a person's own blood

to promote healthy activity
of skin cells.

You rub your own blood on your face?

Where do you do this, Transylvania?

I know. I told you, it sounds crazy,

but it works, it-it fights aging
by replenishing the skin

without the need of-of surgery,

or needles.

I will get you a sample.

You will see I'm telling the truth.

If he is telling the truth,
there should only be blood

under her fingernails, no tissue.

I'll call the M.E.

Needham.

We'll be right there.

- We got to go.
- What's up?

There's another body,

and you won't believe who found it.

Okay, take him.

I got him.

- Oh, God, oh...
- What happened?

I arrived for a session,
I couldn't find him, and then,

I-I tried to pull him out,
but it was too late.

This is the same man who was berating you

in your office last night, isn't it?

I know this doesn't look good.

Two people dead. Both were your patients.

You're right. This does not look good.

- His name is Jonathan James.
- The Olympic swimmer?

Now a coach. Jonathan needed
an emergency appointment.

He was facedown in the pool
when I got here.

An Olympic swimmer drowns
in his own pool. Wow.

This has nothing to do with me.

Oh, so the fact that he was
yelling at you yesterday

is a mere coincidence?

Jonathan was a perfectionist.

It's why he was such a successful swimmer

and sought-after coach.

He was also short-tempered.

We were working on that.

Why were you meeting him here?

I make house calls to VIP clients.

You're a concierge psychiatrist?

For clients who pay a retainer.
I go to them if they need me.

I'd like to see your session notes.

I want to help you, I do.

But even in death, that would be a breach

of the physician-patient privilege.

Only a subpoena would compel
me to share my medical records.

Then I'll go get one.

I can't believe I didn't
recognize Jonathan James.

I had a huge crush on him

- in the 2004 Olympics.
- Me, too.

The only connection between him
and Justine is Dr. Becker.

But I can't find a motive.

And if it's not her,
why would Justine's husband

kill the swim coach, to frame Becker?

Heard there was a second body.

Are you engaging in homicide gossip?

Just water cooler chat.
This is a water cooler.

Why are you here?

To refill my water at the water cooler.

And to get some sunshine.

Sun's bad for you.

I've got some real work to do.

Sesame or poppy.

This is not Sophie's choice.

You did not tell Lizzie about
the bang and burn, Jules?

I don't want to put her at risk.

The way she's looking at you,
just being here

could put you at risk.

Any idea who broke in?

No. It was a professional.

Want me to do some counterintelligence?

At least they won't find you here.

Well, I needed a safe place to work,

until I find a secure space.

And I'm hoping the NYPD system
can help me get a lead,

see who burned me.

Dylan, I'll be careful.
And while I'm here,

I can upgrade your computer system.

In fact, I must, since
I'm reduced to using it myself.

It's a win-win.

Almost like we're partners again.

Speaking of which,
I've done some digging,

and that psychiatrist
is an upstanding citizen,

- with an impeccable record.
- I did not ask you to dig.

You didn't have to.

One of the perks of consulting
in the 11th Precinct.

That, and free bagels.

I've got to go and hack
into a Turkish strongman's

Swiss bank account, for my other job.

M.E. called, confirmed no epithelials

were found under Justine's nails.

So if it's not the husband,

- and it's not the doctor...
- Then we are,

as Detective Fucci would say,

chasing our tails around.

Chase them to Laduree. We have our
double date in less than an hour.

Oh, I'm gonna be late.

I have to wait for Dr. Becker's
records to be delivered.

I've got some work to finish.

I'll bring the records to dinner.

Great.

It's the least I can do.

Since you're lying to her
about every reason you're here.

You know the drill: need to know.

Dylan tells me you put on quite a show

- to get him back at work.
- Yes.

I'm sorry that means you might
have to partner with him again.

Made him remember how
much he loves lawyering.

It wasn't being a lawyer
that turned me off.

It was doing it for a giant,
bloodsucking firm.

Maybe you should do it again
without the bloodsucking.

I was kind of thinking the same thing.

Sorry I'm late, Dylan.

Andy. Great to see you.

- Lizzie.
- Thank you.

The information you
wanted from Dr. Becker.

To Dylan back at the NYPD.

To Julian leaving the NYPD.

To Andy practicing his kind of law.

Show up ten minutes late
and you miss everything.

Let me help.

A reservation for 7:00 p.m.

means 7:00 p.m.

Not 7:05 or 7:15.

You think I have time
to just wait around here?

It's now my table.

His table?

God, I hate narcissists.

Clearly, his time is more
important than the rest of us.

Why kill two patients of the same doctor?

What if Becker did help get
both our victims killed?

- She just didn't know it.
- Wine, anyone?

Becker said one of her
specialties was narcissism.

What if the person we're looking for

was enraged because he had to wait,

only he didn't just make a scene
in a restaurant, he killed?

So you're thinking
the killer is a patient

who's also a narcissist?

Well, but on a different level.

A malignant narcissist.

Someone with no empathy,

the desire to commit crimes

and the grandiosity to think
he's entitled to do so with impunity.

So, if our killer had his times canceled

because of another patient's
appointment...?

Oh, for a malignant narcissist,

that would be a deep
injury to his self-esteem

and could very well justify murder.

But why kill the patients?

Shouldn't he be angry at the doctor?

She canceled the sessions.

Maybe he's trying to frame her?

If they feel wronged,
a malignant narcissist

will scorch the earth to get revenge.

The victims infringed on the
killer's appointment times.

They die first.

Which means Becker would be next.

If both victims recently
had all-day sessions...

That means other patients had
their appointments canceled.

We need to see who they were. Here.

Oh, this is the diagnosis
code you're looking for.

Here's one.

And another.

Another.

I have four. That is seven
narcissistic patients.

But only one name I recognize.

And he's got an appointment now

at Dr. Becker's office.

- Sorry. See you later.
- See you later.

We'll have to record his confession.

How is the sea bass?

Let me talk to him.
I think I can get him to confess.

You have two minutes, then I'm coming in.

What do you want?

I have an appointment.

This is my time.

Tell Dr. Becker Dylan Reinhart is here.

She'll see me. She knows who I am.

You install her security system, too?

Come on in, Dylan.

Give me your gun.

I'm here for therapy.

Yeah. So am I.

Cop thinks he's important.

Why? 'Cause you got

these fancy clothes?

I'm gonna help you.

I killed two of her patients.

And that's just this week.

She doesn't know about the rest.

I see Dr. Becker

because I suffer from a condition

called malignant narcissism.
It's something...

I know what it is.

Those patients were taking my sessions.

How selfish.

Now, if you could just leave
so Dr. Becker and I can...

You didn't kill those patients.

Sure I did.

Those murders were expertly staged.

No witnesses, no evidence.
Who else could have done that?

You do know who I am?

An idiot cop who thinks he's some

mastermind criminal.

Actually, I am not a cop.

I'm a consultant for the NYPD.

They hired me because I wrote a book

about abnormal behavior
and criminals which stayed

at the top of The New York Times
Best Sellers List

for over a year.

Dr. Becker said

that in all her years of practice

she had never met anyone

as remotely fascinating as me.

What do you do again?

I'm responsible
for maintaining the safety

of thousands of people.

A glorified security guard.
I'm sure Dr. Becker

will be able to find you another...

- Stay where you are.
- Then let her go.

Those appointments of yours
that were canceled, I took them

and I am gonna take credit
for everything you have done.

You trapped Justine

in her own cryo chamber,

killing her with what made her famous.

Same with Jonathan James,
drowning in a pool.

Not bad, right?

Well, it's a little on the nose,

but I guess not bad.

What are you gonna do with Dr. Becker?

Bury her in her couch?

Or have you stuffed
her full of sedatives?

You are smarter than
I gave you credit for.

You'll die protecting your victim.

Too bad. Would've been a really
nice ending to your next book.

- Say good-bye.
- Good-bye.

Dr. Becker, Dr. Becker.

EMTs are on their way. She okay?

She's losing consciousness,
but still breathing.

Practice tape, day one.

Dr. Becker suggested I practice
vulnerable moments out loud

to get more comfortable
expressing my feelings.

It feels weird.

I hope it works.

Honey, I'm so sorry
that I argued with you

about going away for our anniversary.

I want to spend time with you.

I know I need to balance things more.

That's what this work is all about.

But I'm thinking about what you said.

Extending our lives won't be
worth much of anything

if we don't take the time
to enjoy the things

and the people that we love.

I thought she left me behind,

but she was doing it for me,

for us.

I'm sorry.

Do you mind if I watch this some more?

- Oh, of course not.
- Thank you.

Hacking into China's network?

Shopping for socks.

You okay?

Lizzie, I went to the precinct
because I wanted to be near you,

but I realize now that was foolish.

I'll leave as soon as
I restore the system.

When I said I wanted more of you,

I didn't mean in the form of pretending

to be someone else.

For this to work,

we both have to take some risks.

I need to know you.

Simple things.

Stories from your childhood,

why we never go to your place.

Keeping secrets is what keeps me alive

and... I don't know, interesting.

No, it's not interesting.

It's... it keeps you from being known.

Reuben.

What?

My real name. Reuben.

My second name is Julian.

But who in their right mind

wants to be known as a deli sandwich?

And I'm not at the precinct
just to be with you.

I can't tell you why now,

but I will soon. I promise.

Thank you.

Expecting someone?

No.

Hey.

I ended it with David.

Oh.

What happened? I'm so sorry.

I'm not. As it turns out, it
wasn't the wedding planning

that was the issue.

He cheated on me.

You think I could stay here for a while?

Of course. Any-Anything you need.

You can just put that down here.

Uh... let's have some wine.

Uh, uh, I need to...

I'll be right back.

I'm just...

Julian.

Reuben?

"And then I suggested
to Detective Needham...

"I cleverly suggested...

"I brilliantly suggested
to Detective Needham

who the suspect might be."

Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt.

Uh, I'm looking for
Lieutenant Jasmine Gooden.

Oh, she's gone for the night.

Are you here to report a crime?

Uh, actually no.
Uh, I'm here to investigate one.

Detective Ryan Stock, Garfield County PD.

Nice to meet you.

Dylan Reinhart.

Nebraska.

Yeah, how'd you know?

Midwestern speech pattern.

Of the six Garfield Counties in the U.S.,

only one is in Nebraska.

There's also a faint smell
of almonds emanating, I think,

from the chokecherry stain

on your T-shirt.

And it says Nebraska on your file.

Right. Yeah, I haven't had much
time to shower or change.

When I heard about the woman
you guys found in the park,

I jumped in my car and
I drove straight here.

I think your case may be related

to a murder I'm
investigating in Garfield.

Why is that?

Because of this.

The "Sleeping Beauties" case.

I'm gonna catch whoever did this.