All language subtitles for Wake.Up.Dead.Man.A.Knives.Out.Mystery.2025.1080p.HDTS.x264-RGB_new.mp4

Sa.

Hard to know where to start.

I guess to tell the story of the Good Friday murder through my eyes.

I gotta start here nine months ago, when this deacon said something way out

of line.

And I did this.

So you're a fighter, then? No, Father.

Absolutely not.

Well, we have a deacon who would say otherwise if his jaw wasn't broken.

In my previous life, yes, I was a boxer.

I lived on the streets.

I did some other things.

We need fighters today.

But to fight the world, not ourselves.

A priest is a shepherd.

The world is a wolf.

No,

I don't believe that.

Father, respectfully.

You start fighting wolves, and before you know it, everyone you don't

understand is a wolf.

I still got that fighting instinct, and I gave into it today.

But Christ came to heal the world, not fight it.

I believe that this.

Not this.

You know, just want to be a good priest.

Show broken people like me the forgiveness and love of Christ.

The world needs that so bad.

Give me one more shot, and I promise I'll do that.

Your Excellency, you stuck your neck out for me so many times, and I let you

down. Whatever.

All right, all right, listen.

Deacon Clark is famously a dick.

Nobody's actually that upset that you clapped him.

In fact, kind of the opposite.

But we do need to do something about it.

We're sending you to a small parish in Chimney Rock.

It's just one priest there now.

Assistant pastor, eh? Well, curb your enthusiasm.

What? You're going to Our lady of Perpetual Fortitude led by Monsignor

Jefferson Wicks.

Have you heard of Jefferson Wicks? Okay, look, Wicks has his supporters

here. I'm not one of them, very.

Between you and me, I think he's a few beads shy of a full rosary and a real

son of a.

But what's undeniable is that his flock is shrinking and even calcifying.

It could use some of what you said in there.

You understand? Not at all.

But yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Spirit's got me.

Let me.

Adam. Hey, hey.

This, not this, right? Hmm.

Good luck, kid.

So that's how I came to Chimney Rock.

Daniel in the lion's den.

David facing off.

Goliath, young, dumb and full of Christ, ready for anything.

It.

Father Jefferson.

Hello. J.

Duple from Albany.

Lord be with you.

Judge D.

Plenty from Albany.

You here to take my church away from me? No.

Good. Okay.

Call me Monsignor Wicks.

I see you've met Martha.

Martha? No, Monsignor.

I woke up early to polish the silver.

It was a bit blotchy.

That'll be Fine, Martha.

Father Judd, you are welcome here.

Thank you, Martha.

Saying to Father Wicks.

Monsignor Wicks.

Monsignor. Right.

Sorry. And sorry for St.

Jesus. This is going great.

I think Bishop Langstrom sent you, huh? Langstrom.

I know him well.

He handpicked you, sent you here.

That says something to me.

Tells me a lot.

But I know you're used to flying so low.

But no, I'm here to serve.

Take my confession.

All right.

Bless me, Father, for I've sinned.

It's been six weeks since my last confession.

I've envied the material wealth of others.

I saw this luxury car commercial.

Sam had it on his tv, Lexus.

And I thought that was a good looking car, the coupe.

I've envied the power of great men.

Envied my grandfather's power as a priest.

I wanted that.

Always did.

I've masturbated

four times this week.

Four or five, generally.

What'd I say, six weeks.

Well, let's say 30 times.

Masturbated this week in my bed in the morning.

Once. Once in the shower, standing up, which was convenient.

Just use the bath gel.

Oh. Once in the middle of the night after a dream about.

That's all right.

About one of those Japanese cat cafes.

Okay. And I read this article, but the cats were girls and, you know, so.

And I hadn't prepared, so I had to finish into a copy of Catholic Chronicle

magazine just what was on the end table, which is probably its own kind of

sin. I don't know.

Maybe not.

But not good.

At the time, I thought this was just weird.

But looking back now, I know this was Wicks's first punch.

Five Hail Marys and one glory be.

Thank you, Father.

It wouldn't be his last.

Oh, and welcome to my church.

Over the next few weeks, I settled in at Our lady of Perpetual Fortitude.

The only other full time employee was the groundskeeper, Samson.

Sam.

It's Monsignor Wicks who gives me the strength every day to not go back to

the bottle.

He used to drink, too.

But he said to me once, if I can stave off that demon, you can.

And every day it is a struggle.

But I have.

I credit him and my sweet Martha.

Your sweet Martha.

I'd do anything for her.

My angel on earth.

As far as the church goes, Martha does it all.

She keeps the books, manages donations, files, everything.

Files, huh? She launders the vestments, stocks the supplies, feeds Wicks,

plays the organ.

She knew where the bodies were buried.

So this is the crypt.

Yep. It's A damn shame.

Gotta put up a security camera.

Is there an entrance? There is.

This right here.

The Lazarus door.

Takes construction equipment to open from the outside, but cantilevered as

such. That one push send it tumbling to the ground from inside.

Who's in there, then? Prentice.

Wick's grandfather.

The founder of this church.

Was like a father to me.

Makes me sick, these kids painting rocket ships all over his sacred resting

place.

What are you doing? Oh, well, I do a little woodworking, so.

Thought I could borrow some of Sam's tools, Make a proper one.

We leave that a reminder.

The shameful sin of the harlot.

Take my confession.

Yes. The Harlot four.

That was Wick's mother.

Okay, so what's the deal with that? She was a harlot and a whore.

Okay. When Prentiss entered the priesthood and founded this church, he was

widowed with a daughter.

Grace was her name.

Always a bad seed.

She loved revealing clothes and her fancy brands.

Fancy brands? Yeah.

As a teenager, she slutted around bars, Was soon pregnant by a drifter.

Prentice had a vast family fortune in the bank.

To protect his grandson, Wicks, he promised that if Grace stayed under his

roof, the fortune would be willed to her.

And so the whore waited for her father to die.

Oh, it weighed on him heavily.

Martha, Remember this wealth and the power that comes with it is Eve's apple

temptation that leads to the fall.

We must protect our loved ones from its corrupting influence at all castes.

His day came at last.

I was there.

I saw Prentiss take his final communion and die on the holy altar.

At peace.

The harlot whore went straight to Prentiss Attorney.

Give me my money, she said.

And you know what he said? Yes.

You are heir to every single penny Prentiss had.

And in his accounts, not one hot dime.

What did he do with the fortune? Give it to the poor? Say some food in the

ocean. Say others.

No one knows.

It was gone.

That holy man's final act of grace was to keep the corrupting evil out of

wicked hands.

All that he left her

was this.

What is this? She said.

But I knew.

Look. Not for Eve's apple.

Your inheritance is now Christ.

That night, she had her revenge.

In a demonic rage, she defiled this holy place.

Blasphemy. Desecration.

Evil incarnate.

I said, sister Grace.

God your father will forgive you.

In his love,

She died throwing herself against Prentice's tomb.

Brain injuries, and they said, struck down.

I say, by God, in his mercy, holy.

Sorry. Sorry.

The darkness of that story was the bedrock of this place.

You could feel it.

So what would draw someone to make this their spiritual home? The core group

of regulars all had their reasons.

And these will be our suspects.

So I should introduce them.

Vera Draven, local attorney.

She was loyal and devoted.

My dad was weeks attorney and drinking buddy.

The boys.

And so you became a lawyer so you could take over his family practice? I

became a lawyer because I wanted to do great things.

Things in the world.

But this place is my dad's legacy.

And he wanted me to keep it going after he passed.

So. Here I am.

Yo, yo.

Hey, girl.

Hi. Did you feel this up? Thank you.

Her adopted son, Sai, just moved back home after trying and failing to get a

foothold in politics.

Hey. Okay.

It's nice having him back.

When Vera was young, just out of law school, her dad came home with a 10

year old sai out of the blue and told Vera she was gonna raise him, no

questions asked.

The whole town knew he was obviously her illegitimate brother.

But Vera accepted it.

She did it.

I've given up a lot to be loyal to my dad and to sigh and to Wicks.

So I think that when my dad is looking down on me from heaven, I think he is

very pleased with me.

So I guess that's nice.

I came this close.

I was the GOP golden boy.

The great hope.

I've got connections and ins and outs.

I was on the cusp, but I just couldn't engage voters.

I didn't have that cult of personality thing.

I guess it's hard connecting with people in a genuine way.

I know.

And I tried everything, believe me.

I hammered the race thing, I hammered the gender thing, the trans thing, the

border thing, the homeless thing, the war thing, the election thing, the

abortion thing, the climate thing.

Thing about induction stoves.

Israel. Like library books, vaccines, pronouns, AK47, socialism, BLM, CRT,

the CDC, DEI, 5G, everything.

All of it.

I did.

Nobody. Just nothing.

People are just dumb these days.

I don't know why.

Maybe we need to get back to fundamentals.

You know, basic building blocks on how to genuinely inspire people.

The basics.

Like show them something they hate and then make them afraid it's going to

take away something.

Something they love.

Well, no.

Kira. Nat Sharp, the town's local doctor.

His life revolved around his wife, Darla.

She was his everything.

Darla left me last week.

I'm sorry.

Took the kids.

Moved to Tucson with some guy that she met on a fish.

Mrs. Boy.

Fish. The band.

I have no idea.

Dr. Nat was spinning out.

He wasn't successful enough.

Rich Enough.

Good enough for her.

He would do anything to get her back.

The closest thing we have to a local celebrity, the sci fi writer Lee Ross.

You probably know at least some of his books.

The Crescent Limbo series, Ice Pick of Time, the Crystalline Juncture.

Ten years ago, Lee moved here from New York, connected with Wicks and the

church, and as he puts it, unplug my brain, you know, from the liberal hive

mind, and come here.

His book sales and popular standing have been in slow decline ever since.

But he'd spent the last year writing a massive book about Wicks.

His teachings, My Reflections, Essays and recollections of an Acolyte at the

feet of a prophet.

The Holy man and the Troubadour.

I found it a tough read, but he pinned all of his hopes on it.

This is my last chance.

Ticket out of substack hell.

I can't take it anymore.

My readers these days, I mean, they are survivalist freaks.

They don't look like John Goodman and the Big Lebowski.

This little shitwick, sigh.

He's got his little influencer fangs in the Monsignor lately.

We don't like him.

We're like Wicks.

Be careful.

You got to shake him off.

He's bad news.

Opportunistic poet.

We're going to have to protect wicks from his YouTube legend.

Simone was new to town and new to the church.

She'd been a world class cellist,

Forced to retire five years ago for health reasons, chronic pain, some

mysterious nerve thing that doctors cannot diagnose.

I believed they could heal me.

Suckered dipshit.

Moi? I mean, to take someone's faith and exploit it for money? It's the

ultimate evil.

Don't you think? It is.

Yeah. Yeah, it's bad.

I don't just have wanting to believe.

This feels different, though.

Faith in God to heal me.

This is different.

I feel hopeful now, like a miracle could happen.

That's how Monsieur Lakes makes me feel.

The spirit really moved him today, huh? Monsignor? Ah, my warrior.

Wicks kept his core group tight, and the seductive power of his charisma was

undeniable. But his method.

Every week, he would pick someone out.

A newcomer, usually.

And he would attack.

The world wants us all to be okay.

Any of your choices, make your choices.

They're your choices.

Don't feel bad.

Have that affair, Tell that lie.

Have that child out of wedlock.

Satisfy your selfish heart.

Selfish? Yes.

Depriving that child child of a family, of a father.

An assault on our castle, the institution of manhood.

My own mother Made that selfish choice with me.

And I curse her selfish heart for it every day of my life.

Putting her needs and wants before the family God intended.

I am enough.

Me. Selfish harlot heart.

You are not.

Might as well beat that child.

Yes. Might as well starve that child.

Defy the family that the Lord intended and watch your child burn beneath

that burden.

This is not the true church.

You ask even the most hardcore of those in the pews, they'll say no, of

course. This is not what they believe.

It's Wicks being licks, pushing it too far.

And what he's pushing for every time is a walk out.

Why does he do this? Because when that person walks out, everyone watches.

And even if in the light of day, it's indefensible, deep down in the dark,

it scratches an itch.

And by staying put in that pew, the side is dead.

Taken Wix's side.

Testing tolerances, tapping deep poison wells.

Hardening, binding with complicity.

So I try to offer a counterbalance.

Okay. Welcome to our first Father Judd prayer group.

Thank you all for being here.

And this is all about breaking down walls.

But between us and Christ.

Us and each other.

Us in the world.

When I was 17, I was a boxer.

I killed a man in the ring.

I built up so many walls of anger, addiction, violence.

That was the only one I felt safe enough to put my dukes down, open my arms,

confess my deepest sin.

That was the day that Christ saved my life.

He didn't.

He didn't transform me.

He sustains me every day.

That's daily bread, right? I think that's what the church should be.

That's what I want this church to be.

For me and for all of you.

So

Monsignor Wicks isn't coming? No.

But. No.

So I thought we just talk and start sharing.

He knows that we're doing these, right? Sure.

Of course.

Of course I'll tell him.

I just.

I want us to connect.

And you'll tell them? You'll.

You'll tell him? Contraction of the simple future tense.

Meaning you haven't yet told him.

Why wouldn't you tell him? This feels kind of weird.

Okay, guys, this is a prayer meeting.

It's not a secret anything.

It's a secret prayer meeting.

Nope. That's literally what it is.

I just texted the monsignor.

Great. So it isn't a secret anymore.

Now if we could just get back to breaking down those walls.

Through Christ's love.

He says, what the holy heck? Oh, I'm.

I'm sorry, Father.

I came Because I thought this was an official church function.

Only he didn't use the word heck.

Okay. Thank you, Martha.

This is a church function, Vera.

It's at a church.

It's with me.

It's official or holy.

Can I see that? I think I should go.

Okay. Thank you, Osiris.

Yeah. Wow.

Yeah. Sorry, Father.

I don't want to piss him off.

Nice try, Guy.

Thanks, Tom.

I'm probably gonna post this tomorrow.

Can I tag you? I prefer you didn't.

I probably will anyway.

I know.

I'm so sorry your little coup failed this afternoon, Father.

My coup? Martha, really? If we want to pray or need to confess something, we

can do it with Monsignor Wicks.

Can you? Because you all seem scared to death of the guy.

Could you walk into that church of your own free will and confess your

deepest sin to wakes Martha without fear? Cuz.

Cuz. If not, this whole place is a whitewashed tomb.

Yes, I could.

Well, good.

Holy Week.

Week of special services leading up to Easter.

It was on Palm Sunday that I finally broke.

And then twice in the shower this week doing that thing I told you about

where I hold my hand upside down.

Five Our Fathers, five Hail Marys.

Well, we're at nine months now, Judd.

How are you enjoying it here? Are you breaking down some walls?

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.

It's been a week since my last confession.

I betrayed a fellow priest's privacy.

I know that Martha keeps her medical bills filed in the office, so I went

through them.

I learned you had a radical prostitute five years ago, making you physically

incapable of an erection.

I can handle whatever this is.

For the past nine months, I've seen the way you tend this flock, and I don't

like it.

You don't like it? No, Monsignor, I don't.

Nat Sharp.

Man needs to forgive and start living his life.

And Christ loves to be a launching pad for that.

And instead.

Instead, he's just every day getting more and more angry and bitter against

his ex wife.

Against women.

It's bad.

And Lee, He's a storyteller.

And it's like his superpower has been turned against him.

The only story he tells is the world is out to get me.

He was brilliant, funny, and smart and respected.

And now he's just spinning out and angry all the time.

Paranoid. Did you know he literally built a moat around his house? Really? I

mean, it's mostly symbolic, but yeah.

And Simone? I'm sorry, Monsignor, but I'm afraid you've taken advantage of

her. I've seen the donation numbers.

I know how much she's giving now and the past few months.

She's basically supporting this place.

And yes, I believe in the possibility of miracles through Christ.

Christ. But what you're giving her is not that.

It's transactional.

Through you.

And God help you.

It makes her feel betrayed again.

God help me.

Anything else? Yeah, why not side Draven.

Doesn't this new YouTube stuff he's doing worry you? Every week now he takes

clips from what you say in mass and plugs him into his political rants.

He's co opting and honestly I think misrepresenting the church and a

dangerous way.

When was the last time a new person lasted more than one Sunday? Word's

gotten out every week.

Now it's just this hardened cyst of regulars.

And it seems like you're intentionally keeping them angry and afraid.

Is that how Christ led his flock? Is that what we're supposed to do.

Right now? You're angry.

You should be.

It'd be dangerous if you weren't.

I'd see you're helpless.

And I do it again and again.

I'm the world.

You're the church.

Good. Right? Yes.

Anger. Anger lets us fight back.

Take back the ground we've lost.

And we've lost so much ground.

And now you're afraid.

Look at those bare knuckle instincts coming back.

Good. You're afraid I'm gonna come at you again.

But you're protecting yourself.

Because the world wants to destroy us.

Your version of love and forgiveness is a sop.

It's going along to get along with modernity.

Not wanting to offend this garbage world.

Meanwhile they destroy us feminist Marxist whores bit by bit.

They do.

But I carry my burden.

I hold the line.

And you, you supering child from Albany.

Are you gonna get angry and fight?

You're poisoning this church.

I'll do whatever it takes to stay save it.

To cut you out like a cancer.

Five Our Fathers, five Hail Marys.

Christ. You didn't give up on me.

I'm not giving up on this church.

He was one step ahead of me.

Father. Judge.

Prayer meeting.

I have kept this church.

I have.

Or the truth of God.

And now the betrayal.

To find my authority and fear.

Faith and life itself challenged.

And from inside my own sanctuary.

Get out.

Wick's final move.

Open war against me.

I got pretty toasty.

The world's a wolf.

You devil.

You devil.

Wolf. You're devil.

Wolf.

Nikolai. I'm sorry I broke that worry about it.

The junk lamps, the jump Lamps.

Come on.

Hey, you get the drone? Yeah.

Are you sure?

Hi.

Who's there? Oh.

And that brings us to Good Friday.

Here we go.

It was a 3pm service, just the regulars.

There was a strange tension in the air.

Can't recall the homily, but it felt different.

The anger felt less calculated, more unhinged.

As always after the homily, Wicks was spent emotionally and physically and

needed some time to recover.

He would duck into the small storage closet just to the side of the

sanctuary so he'd be out of sight.

He'd fortify himself and I would continue the service until he felt strong

enough to rejoin and take over.

Behold the wood of the cross on which hung the salvation of the world.

What's wrong? Jefferson?

Yeah.

There's something in his back.

Wait, wait.

Don't touch him.

Don't touch anything.

Satan. Satan struck him down.

The devil or Satan?

The ambulance took just five minutes to arrive.

Wicks was pronounced dead on the scene.

Scene. When I joined the others outside, the police were just arriving.

The devil will not take that man.

He will rise again in the glory of the Lord.

This was an insane event for a tiny town.

And poor Geraldine, the local chief, was thrown in.

Headlong Christ.

Hours of questioning all through the day.

Saturday, until finally.

You're the only one on stage with the monsignor at the time of his killing.

And you had prior possession of the wolfhead figurine attached to the murder

weapon. And you're the only one at that church who hated his guts.

I don't hate any guts.

It's literally impossible for anyone to have done this.

So I don't.

I don't know what this is.

All right, Father.

Why don't you go get some rest? But I should warn you before you walk out of

here, the town is talking side.

Draven put this up on his YouTube this morning.

Poisoning this church.

And I'll do whatever it takes to save it.

To cut you out like a catch.

It's been reposted quite a bit.

I turned on my phone for two minutes and that was a mistake.

A flood of messages to the killer priest.

But I wasn't thinking about getting arrested or defrocked.

I was thinking Wicks had won.

Because in the part of my soul that cannot lie to Christ or myself or you,

I was happy the old man was dead.

Jesus, help me.

Show me the way through this, please.

Hello?

Oh, I'm sorry.

Are you open? Always.

You alright? Yeah.

Huh. Sorry,

there is no Easter mass, so I'm sorry.

You're welcome Come in.

Thank you.

Come in.

Thank you.

I don't want to take you away from your priestly duties now, do I? Well, to

this summer.

Right. It's hard to be in here and not feel his presence.

Who? Oh, God.

Oh, yeah.

Yeah. You're not a Catholic.

No, very much not.

No. Proud heretic.

I kneel at the altar of the rational.

Huh. You weren't raised in the faith.

My mother is laws.

Very, very religious, you know.

Were you close with her? No.

When I was a boy, we.

But it's complicated.

It's complicated.

Family. Yeah, that's right.

How does all this make you feel?

How does it make me feel?

Truthfully? Sure.

Well, the architecture that interests me.

I feel the grandeur, the mystery, the intended emotional effect.

And it's like someone is shooting young a story at me that I do not believe.

Let's build upon the empty promise of a Charles fairy tale filled with

malevolence and misogyny and homophobia and its justified untold acts of

violence and cruelty, while all the while and still hiding its own shameful

acts. So, like an ornery mule kicking back, I want to pick it apart and pop

its perfidious bubble of belief and get to a truth I can swallow without

choking.

The rafter.

Details are very fine, though.

Listen, you want to kick me out and go right ahead.

No, no, you're being honest.

It's good.

Telling the truth can be a bitter.

I suspect you can't always be honest with your parishioners.

You can always be honest by not saying the unhonest part.

Yeah, you're right.

It's storytelling.

This church, it's not medieval.

We're New York.

This Neo Gothic 19th century has more in common with Disneyland than Notre

Dame. And the rites and rituals, costumes, all of it storytelling.

You're right.

Guess the question is, do these stories convince us of a lie or do they

resonate with something deep inside us that's profoundly true,

that we can't express any other way except storytelling?

Touche, Padre.

So, I'm sorry.

I just.

I felt like a priest again.

And now I'm gonna lose that.

Lose my purpose.

And I'm frightened.

I don't know how I'll live.

Hey. You found him.

Is he.

Who are you? I probably should have led with this.

My name is Benoit Blanc.

I'm a detective.

I've taken an interest in the murder of Jefferson Wits.

You're a detective? So you were with the police? No, no, I work in the

private capacity.

Everyone thinks I did it.

I didn't do it.

But in my heart, maybe I didn't.

And the way it happened was some kind of miracle.

And I don't know.

I'm lost.

I don't know.

Would you allow me to help you?

What? Your lips are cracked with dehydration.

You haven't slept all night.

You spend it out of doors by the state of your pant legs, on your knees at

prayer. Here, what I see is not a guilty man in torment, but an innocent man

tormented by guilt.

Let me help you.

How this was dressed as a miracle.

It's just a murder.

And I solve murders.

Wait, were you the Kentucky dirty thing with the murder in the.

The guy that they got with the photo? Face camera.

See? So you're.

You were on the View.

Yeah. What are you doing here? I need to come up speed rapidly on the events

of that Good Friday service and the goings on here at Our lady of Perpetual

Fortitude. Geraldine has graciously allowed me access.

If you can spare the day and accompany me on my investigation.

View the body, trace the murder weapon, inspect the crime scene.

You are in.

In a unique position to assist me.

The body?

Yeah, I've changed my mind.

I don't think I should be here.

Mark. I'm trusting your process, but I agree with him.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I want you to get a clear clinical picture of what happened here.

To see wigs as he is a corpse.

Just a empty vest, not the mythologized monster in your mind, but merely

flesh and blood dead from a knife wound.

We can analyze.

Just flesh and blood.

Flesh and blood.

There's a wiggly wiggly.

Please stop doing that.

Tammy, would you mind flipping the meat pancake?

Hey. No, no, no, no, no, no.

I don't belong here.

Hey, I.

I can't be in here.

I don't know why you brought me.

If you want absolution, you want ever to be a priest again, then you need to

go through this with me.

Real killer is out there.

We've got to find them and nail them.

I'm sorry, honey.

Catch him and get your life back.

Father, I need to know you understand the situation.

We are not all buddies running around trying to solve a case.

You are still a suspect.

The point is, you do not need to be here without a lawyer.

Do you understand that?

I didn't do this.

If I can help find out who did, then I'm in.

Yeah, that's good.

Yeah. Okay.

The body next, the murder weapon, then the crime scene.

Stick with me.

Tell you something, I don't even like the Devil, you know, Diablo.

It sounds classy.

Italian. That's fine.

You know that my wife, she buys a devil sign.

Then she, she buys the double lamps and people start, oh, hey, get him a

double thing for the bar.

He loves it.

And then, you know, double, double, double bang.

I don't know.

But that, but that's it, right? That's.

Yeah. Oh yeah.

But, but you know, it wasn't red though.

It's red now.

It's paint.

Yes, yes, freshly painted.

We filled it with some kind of plaster and stuck the blade in that way.

Not a.

Whatever it takes to save it.

To cut you out like a cat.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Come on.

It's not cool.

The red devil head thing that ended up where? In the church.

I threw it at the church and broke a window.

I don't know why.

And then after the prison mass on Monday, Martha said she found a small

broken window.

Kids. But nothing else.

It.

Do you see that?

Yeah, yeah.

Oh, good as well.

Doctor. Nah.

Hey, sam.

So much.

Now. I.

I can come over later if.

If you want to talk.

I didn't.

I don't think.

Yeah, yeah, I don't think I'd prefer that.

I'd prefer.

Not that.

Ah, there he is.

That's what you did it with, huh? Come on, man.

Cut him out like a cancer.

You son of a.

Tell him that.

Yeah. Son of a killer priest.

Sam,

First off, I owe to Tada Valley a fruit basket for giving me your number.

I'm just glad to be of service.

Charlie, you had the foresight to see that this goes way beyond normal

police work.

This is something you and I have not experienced.

A textbook example of a perfectly impossible crime.

The stuff of detective fiction.

This should not exist in our real world.

And yet here it is.

The Holy Grail.

I love the passion.

I just need to feel confident that, you know, this case is solvable.

I'm incapable of my solving a crime.

That moment of checkmate when I take the stage and unravel my opponent's

web. Oh, you'll see, it's fun.

Great. How do we get there? The source? John Dixon Cars.

The H Man.

A golden age detective novel.

And a veritable primer on the locked door mystery.

The Impossible crime.

Hold up.

Father J.

Once again burning your keep.

Whose body? The murders in the room.

More Roger Acroyd.

The Murder of the Vicarage.

My God, this is practically a syllabus for how to commit this crime.

And the whole flock is in this group.

Who chose these books? Oprah.

Oprah. Part that pulls the theme List from Oversight.

Well, this confirms my theory.

The killer certainly imitated the traditional methods of a locked door

mystery story.

Which makes things simple.

Book club time.

Come on, kids.

In the hall of manor.

The Detective Gideon fellow.

Here's a rundown of all the possible methods of a locked door killer.

So let's line them up and lock them down.

Possibility number one.

Wicks was stabbed with the knife before entering the closet.

Father Judge, would you take your place right where you were?

Wicks completes his sermon.

Any device behind him capable of propelling a heavy, unbalanced dagger into

his back would have been hidden from the camera and the witnesses in the

nave, but certainly would have been witnessed by Father Judd.

No, I didn't see a knife shooting robot behind him.

No. Possibility 1.

Next. Possibility 2.

He was killed while inside the closet by someone or something that was

outside the closet.

Like something shot the knife into the closet from out here? No, that's

nuts. Nuts and impossible on several fronts.

Possibility two.

Next. Progress.

How many more possibilities are there? Not many.

3. He was killed while inside the closet by a device that was also inside

the closet.

So something was placed beforehand.

And what triggered with a remote? Well, these walls are thick, but a very

strong RF signal could blast through them.

So where would one hide a fully functional remote control knife propelling

device in an empty box? Wicks fell on his stomach.

I remember that clangy thud.

And his face was towards the door.

So he was standing at the back, facing out.

So the knife must have somehow come through the back wall.

93rd. Very good.

However, Rocket Gibraltar.

What about.

What about a false wall that was removed later? Go to town, Father Brown.

No, no.

My. My boys would have noticed a fake wall.

Yeah, Removing it later would have been no small task.

Nothing else was found on the floor? This space? Yes.

Nope. No, just the red thread.

Wait, what the.

The red thread.

Two strings of thick red thread about 3 in long.

Down there, over by the body, next to the hip.

So what's the possibility for.

Martha? Throw them out.

Martha. Throw them out.

To walk this holy place like some crime scene.

Like some tawdry police show.

Talking of robots.

It's not right, Father.

It is.

And it's not right.

Okay,

Martha, you should go home and get some rest.

Can I do anything for you? Leave.

No one wants you here anymore.

You've always hated the Monsignor and you have nothing but contempt for us.

That's not true.

Murder in your heart.

Blood on your hands.

Just like the harlot.

Your original feudal sin has stained this place.

False priest.

Sorry. Yeah.

If finding the facts with that detective puts me against you and this flock,

then so be it.

Sorry.

Can I use your bag? Sure.

Are you okay? A fog was clearing.

This was a puzzle that was solvable.

The body, the weapon, the crime scene robot, knife guns.

And angles of view.

And stone walls.

And remote controls.

And remote controls.

You didn't listen to the game during Friday service on your radio? I would

not. Martha doesn't approve.

So you taped it? Yep.

Here comes the piss.

Okay, I've overlaid a timestamp, taking into account the broadcast delay.

Dr. Sharp's call to the hospital happened at 3:47pm and 90 seconds before

that.

So several things could have caused that glitch.

But to answer your question, yes, it is consistent with a strong burst of RF

interference. Interference that you might get from a souped up remote

control. Damn.

This is it, right? This triggered the knife robot.

This has got to be it.

You can.

You can solve it now, right? You.

Did you sync this up with SAS footage? I did, yeah.

The iPhone video has a time stamp.

It's very precise.

Okay, can you show us, please? Yeah, show us one on which come the salvation

of the world,

Monsignor.

Oh. So when the RF first happened, he was already on the ground with a knife

in his back, and Father Judd was staring right at him.

How does that work? Well, for the Nafrobot, it doesn't.

So this was nothing? No.

No, this was very much something.

We have all the pieces laid out before us now.

We do, you know, consider the origin of the Devil's head.

The red thread, the clanky clunk, the timing of the RF remote, it all lines

up. So? So give us the answer.

I can't.

You said if you had all the pieces, you would have an answer.

I know.

And yet, with all the pieces on the table, this crime still truly appears

impossible. You told me you could solve this.

That's what you do.

I put myself faith in you.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

You haven't slept in 36 hours.

I think it's bedtime.

Yeah. It's been a hell of a day.

Good night, Father John.

Oh. I'll drive you back.

You know, you're right.

This can't be impossible.

There must be a piece missing.

And I think I know where to find it.

See, I think there's something in there, in your head that I need to solve

this case.

And if I can't shake it loose, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to go in there

and get it.

Okay, you're freaking me out now.

I don't understand.

I don't get how this will help.

You want me to write the story? Yes, the story.

The story of the Reverend Wicks's mood.

Monsieur Jalapeno.

No, kid.

I need to see his mood and the events leading up to it through your eyes.

Starting where? Oh, wherever you like.

Just keep it interesting, keep it moving and spare no detail.

I'm not a word to pick your time.

Oh, I'll be quite comfortable.

So I spent the past hour doing exactly that.

And now I'll put down this pen and hand it to you.

And I guess, wait while you read my story of the murder of Monsignor

Jefferson Wicks.

It.

Why'd you do it?

Better question is, why'd I think I could lie to you and get away with it?

Oh, no, you didn't lie.

I knew you wouldn't.

You just didn't say the dishonest part out loud.

When I joined the others outside, the police were just arriving.

Join the others outside.

So you stayed inside.

So you were the only person with unobserved access to the utility closet

after the murder of the former police.

Searched it.

Wow.

Protect him.

I didn't do it to protect wigs.

I did it to save the people who believe in him.

Just a little disappointment.

Illusion. Well, surely everyone knew.

I mean, it would have been on his breath after every mass.

Fortified himself.

Clever word in there.

But everyone must have known the spirit really moved him today, huh? No, not

everyone. Sam.

The one good person in this whole place.

Getting sober saved his life.

I knew the press and police were there.

Why let that be part of the story?

Wicks had been stabbed.

I don't know how, by who, but.

But I knew he'd been stabbed.

So this had nothing to do with it.

It was an impulse, a little storytelling to protect my flock.

Oh, and in protecting their bubble of belief, you have shielded a killer.

Where is that flask?

This shit's not here.

Buck. I'm sorry.

He was stabbed.

So I didn't think.

No, you did not think.

But we're into the woods now, so you better start.

Someone broke into my room.

This is hitting me.

This is devious.

It's calculated against me.

And now you see the enemy we're up against.

You have listened to this flux stories with empathy and grace.

But we're done with that now.

We've wasted enough time.

Tomorrow we'll use the gathering at the burial to question them all

together. We must discover what happened that night and what this flock of

wicked wolves is hiding.

Betrayed, beaten,

mocked, pierced, murdered.

And left in a hole to rot, to be forgotten.

As with our Savior, so with the church.

Our church is assailed by wicked modernity, by the enemies of the God.

The harlot hordes, the vermin who would oppress and silence and bar us from

our rightful place as the rulers of a Christian nation of faith.

And even as I stand before you as a warrior of Christ in the armor of God,

ready to fight the world to my last breath, you shall not pass as our Lord

was. I am betrayed by Judas.

Gentlemen, may I have a moment? Judas in many forms.

Always. The true threat comes from within.

Remember my words on this Good Friday.

Remember what's to come.

Remember, all of you.

You will rise again.

You will be okay.

You will rise again.

You will rise.

The hour approaches, the hour I have warned you about.

Remember what I have promised you all come Easter Sunday.

For I will make good on that promise.

Yes, I will.

For behold, though he is struck down, the righteous son of God will rise

again. Eve's apple restored to the tree and the wealth of his kingdom and

his rising rain.

And as you gnash your teeth in the darkness, you unfaithful devils, as you

lie cold and forgotten and alone, he will rise again to reclaim what is his.

Strike down the wicked and raise his true son to the throne of this nation.

Yes, he will rise.

Yes, he will rise.

Yes, tremble in fear, but he will rise again in glory and vengeance and

power.

Sorry about your loss, Father.

Here, sign on the bottom.

Listen, between you and me, I don't care what the Internet says.

I think there's a chance you didn't do it.

All right, everyone, listen up.

Oh, would you look who it is? It's Judas Judd.

Father, you are not welcome here.

All right, stop.

Here's what's gonna happen.

Benoit Frickin Blanc and I are gonna ask you all some questions.

And. And you're going to answer them.

We're going to get to the bottom who killed my senior Wicks and why, and

then that's it.

Okay? Okay.

So thank you, Father Judd.

That was pretty good.

And we want to start with what happened that night, right here in this very

room. You mean the time Judd admitted to all of this? That he killed a man?

Okay, no, that was.

That was the boxing thing.

And now he's covering his ass by attacking us.

He's a Pino.

A Pino priest in name only, helping Benoit Blanc crack the mystery of the

evil, evil church.

And then some liptard will make a podcast about all of this, and before you

know it, the idiot versions of all of us will end up on Netflix.

Oh, the idiot versions.

God forbid.

It's a miracle.

I can walk, Martha.

Just hurts, I say.

Good. Expose it all.

Wicks was a con man.

Miracles and supernatural power of God Bullshit.

I really believe.

I still want to believe.

How sick is that? Well, actually, I was inquiring.

Not about Judge's prayer group, but about the shadowy meeting with Wicks

that took place in this room on Palm Sunday.

What was that meeting actually about? Who wants to go first? I'll tell you.

Sorry. Hey, wait, wait, wait.

Hold on there, buddy.

Hey, no, no, no, no.

You shut your mouth, you little weasel.

This isn't your decision.

You tell him nothing.

And Father Jack, I promise you that what we talked about that night has

nothing to do with Wick's killing.

Okay? But it does have to do with things that, if made public, could ruin

people in this room.

I recorded the whole thing.

Just hit play.

All right.

Very dramatic, Vera.

Got your audience.

What's this about?

I've been thinking about your mom.

I never knew her, but growing up in this church, I knew the story of the

harlot whore.

And I've been thinking about what her life must have been like to be trapped

in a house with her father and her son.

Closing rank, shaming her, and teaching us all to shame her.

That poor girl.

Yesterday, I got a call from a family law colleague in Brooklyn.

He wanted to double check contact details for Monsignor Jefferson Wicks, my

client. Because my client had filed an AOP with him in Brooklyn so I would

not know.

What's an aop?

Acknowledgment of parentage.

Affirmation that I, Jefferson Wicks, am the biological father of Cyrus

Draven.

No shame for you, right? Who was the mother? Does it even matter? No.

No. She came back and dropped this poor kid in your lap.

And then she went and had a life.

And my faithful father came to the rescue once again.

The Boys Club closed.

Drinks. And there I was, the loyal little idiot.

Trapped. And I obeyed.

And I honored and raised your son while you sat on your pulpit.

Shameless. You hypocritical son of a.

Sorry. Did you know? Not until Vera told me this morning.

Yes. Sighs My son.

From a loose woman of no importance, who I knew for one night and haven't

seen in 30 years.

Vera's father and I kept a secret.

But no longer.

He is my heir.

My son.

Now the world is going to know it.

So rats flee the sinking ship.

Oh, cut the shit.

You're all standing by Here, man.

I just wanted to see it.

I wanted to see for myself.

You eat his shit with a spoon and come back for seconds.

That's kind of.

That's kind of condescending, Vera.

You don't know what we're feeling.

I think we're all, as Christians, very shaken up by what you just said.

But we're fighting an existential war here where the end justifies the

means. The church doesn't need some who's going to lie down and take it.

We need a.

A warrior.

We need a warrior.

And I believe that God chose Monsignor Wicks to be his warrior.

So you and your son have my sword.

And we don't know this woman.

We do not know her.

We do not know, right, how she.

She. What is truth, Right? With various sources.

We don't know that.

We don't.

What exists? Does any of this exist? So well said, Doc.

Thank you.

Promise. If I stuck with you, you could heal me.

That's true.

I don't need you to be a saint.

We're with you, Monsignor Wicks.

And literally nothing that you say or do, it's going to change that.

I will give my final service a week from today on Easter Sunday.

And then I will close the doors of this sad little church for good.

But not before I've destroyed each and every one of you.

Sir, wait.

What? What? You're drinking? Nah.

What? No.

You're a dangerous man.

Going to work drunk, treating patients, children while drunk.

This community should know.

The medical board should know.

No one must ever trust or hire you again.

And, Lee, this troubadour book you've been writing, it's bootlicking idiocy

is an affront to my ministry.

It's my duty to warn not only the public, but my friends in the publishing

world. It must be buried.

You must be buried.

Exposed is the irrelevant clown that you are.

What the hell? What is even happening right now? And, Vera, you are your

father's nightmare.

He would be so ashamed.

Simone, I cannot heal a faithless woman.

I cannot help you.

You said you could cast it out of me.

I promised you nothing.

I've given you all of my savings.

You cannot buy God's healing.

Healing? You will never be healed.

You will die in pain in the prison of that chair.

Why are you doing this? I don't understand.

This is a joke.

I understand confused.

This is a joke.

Is this payback for the Father Judd prayer meeting? Because Father Judd's

prayer meeting, I have kept this church.

I have fortified it with the truth.

Of God.

And now the betrayal.

To find my authority and faith and life itself.

Challenged him from inside my own sanctuary.

Get out.

Weak, all of you.

You can't follow my path.

Yes, we are at war.

And I cast you out of my fortress.

Yet on Easter Sunday, when the pews fill with townspeople, I will lay bare

the sins of this flock, cut you loose and shake the dust of this place off

of my sandals.

And to hell with you all.

Well, glory be.

That cleared the room.

Sigh. Why'd he do that? Sigh Tell me what was happening.

Why'd he torched them all? Why would he do that? Because I told him to.

When Vera told me the truth, I went and found him.

And he embraced me as a son.

For the first time in my life, he unburdened himself.

I hate this place.

Hate this sad flock of losers.

Want to get out.

And now, finally, I can.

He told me his grandfather's family fortune lost all these years.

He told me he found it just this week.

No. No, that money is gone.

Nobody knows where apprentice put it, but it's gone without a trace.

He told me he found it.

He was gonna shutter this dump and retire in filthy wealth.

And I told him.

Are you nuts? Retire? Do you know the power of what you do on that stage?

I've shrunk the flop.

No, you've radicalized him.

That is power in a small town.

There are only so many witches to burn and zealots to activate.

Your flame lacks fuel.

But on the Internet, wildfire.

This money, your cult of personality.

Are you kidding me? Give me four years, you could be president.

Together we can build a real empire as father and son.

Like in Star Wars? Yeah, exactly.

Like the rebels, his ministry and my political instincts.

Fueled by enough money.

Can you imagine what we could do? In Christ's name? Yeah.

Yeah, I think I can.

First I told him, and I'll admit this is a little personal.

First I told him we need to burn this flock.

They're a liability.

If they associate themselves with us, show up on cable news, even want a

place in this town thing, we need to burn them off like leeches.

That's why I torched them all.

Cuz of your petty vindictiveness.

One of them might have killed him for it.

You know that, right? Getting back to this vast fortune.

So it's yours now? Technically, yes.

Technically? He didn't tell you where it was? No.

His accounts are empty.

There's nothing.

So where is it? And then I realized 50 years ago, what was the safest way

for prentice to hide? $80 million.

A Swiss bank account.

Uh huh.

And so all you need to do is find that account number.

No luck there.

It has to be written down somewhere.

Martha files everything.

And it isn't here.

I don't know.

Here I thought it might be a code because he kept saying.

Saying Eve's apple would be restored to the tree.

That was a thing.

As if Eve's apple is the fortune.

But a Smith's account.

We're looking for 19 numbers.

So it doesn't work.

Vera, did he ever tell you anything? Even if he did, I would go to my grave

before giving it to you.

Yeah, you'd have done anything to keep the prodigal son from getting the

fortune. It burns you up, you bitter hag.

That money is one psalm in the Bible of my bitterness.

You child.

You should come and get your.

It'll be out on the street.

You. You're a detective.

I'll pay you.

I don't care.

This is very important.

My inheritance and future political career depends on it.

Can you think of anything related to Eve's apple that might contain that

number?

But if you think of anything.

You'll call me? Oh yeah, you bet.

All right.

Should look everywhere.

It might be a sawn in the line.

You know, instant of metal.

This is hollow.

Yeah, do it.

Remind me to file this file.

That doesn't make sense.

I know.

An $80 million fortune.

But if Eve's apple is the fortune and it's not a pile of cash in a Swiss

account somewhere, what is it?

What? I must have misprinted the date on this.

It says the crypt opening thing was ordered last Wednesday.

That can't be right.

Who had pre ordered burial equipment for a man who isn't dead? Someone who

knew with great certainty when that day and I would come.

Give me that.

Oh, that's computer printers.

That's not a misprint, but that's it.

Whoever called in that order, that could key.

Okay. Yeah, yeah.

Steel Wheels Construction.

This is Louise.

Hello, Louise.

It's Father Job from Perpetual Fortitude.

Oh, hello.

Hi Louise.

We have a piece of your construction equipment here today.

A forklift to open a.

Not too often we get a crypt opening order.

Great. So I need to know actually process that order.

Well, I do all the process.

Us. Yeah.

What I need to know, Louise.

I run this place with my brother James.

He takes.

But I promise you.

Right. So the reason I'm calling, Louise, is to.

I've been to that church of yours, but I don't think you were there.

No, I.

I'm new.

I'M new.

Relatively new here.

Louise. I.

I have to.

Older guy.

Father Monor.

Mon. Father Monsignor.

Okay, well, he was preaching one on one.

And I got to tell you, that is not that nice.

Man. Man.

But I.

I am sorry that he.

Yikes. Died and, you know, for all y'.

All. Terrible tragedy for everyone.

I have to interrupt.

I have a question.

Yeah. The order for the forklift.

I need to know who placed the order.

James takes the orders and left for the day.

Can I have James's number? This is very important.

We need to find out who placed that order.

No, no, look, I don't think I can do that.

But, you know.

Excuse me, Father.

It's. What I can do.

As I was saying is I can get that information for you, and then I will.

That's it.

That's great.

And if you can call James now, I would appreciate it so much.

Great. Thank you, Louise.

Okay, I will.

Hey, Father, could I ask you something? Yeah, it's.

Though. I mean, if you can make it quick.

This. This is a priority for us right now.

We could call you back.

Would you, too.

Louise. Oh, God.

Louise, will you pray for me?

Yeah, of course.

Can I ask what for? It's my mother.

She's sick.

Yeah, she's in hospice.

I'm so sorry, Louise.

She won't talk to me.

We fought last time we talked.

She has a tumor in her brain that's affecting her, and it's making her say

really terrible things.

And so I said bad things back.

And now I'm afraid that that's gonna be the last thing that we ever say to

each other.

Father, I am.

I'm feeling pretty alone right now.

I'm so sorry.

Louise, you're not alone.

I'm right here.

I'm here.

Can you tell me your mother's name?

Pray that Barbara may feel that daughter's love, that it will comfort her in

this time.

Lord, pray for Louise, be with her and give her wisdom and guidance.

Hold her in your healing arms and let her know she is loved.

She is not alone.

This we pray through Christ, our Lord.

Amen. Okay, Louise, you have my number.

Anytime, day or night.

I'm here for you.

This church is here.

Bless you.

Okay, Storm, I came to close up.

I'll get the church.

Take care of the rectory.

Don't follow me, Blog.

We're done.

Stand up.

Why exactly? Had a Road to Damascus thing.

Paul had a holy revelation on the Road to Damascus.

Yes, I know.

He was struck blind and all that.

Hogwashed. Probably just a case of pink eye.

But he was not on the verge of solving a murder when it happened.

I mean, what do you think we're doing here? Why do you think I became a

priest? No bullshit, really.

Why?

You felt guilt for taking a laugh.

And the Church, it offered you a place to hide and a clear method to give

you a sense of absolution.

The guy I killed in the rain, I hated him.

I remember.

I knew he was in trouble, and I kept going and going until I felt him break.

It wasn't an accident.

I killed him with hate in my heart.

There's no hiding from that.

There's no solving it.

God didn't hide me or fix me.

He loves me when I'm guilty.

That's what I should be doing for the people, not this who done it game.

Oh, now, wait a minute.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

You look at me when I'm talking to you.

We're looking for a murderer.

This is not a game.

It is a game.

Solving it, winning it, getting your big checkmate moment about using me in

it. You're setting me against my real and only purpose in life.

We is not to fight the wicked and bring them to justice, but to serve them

and bring them to Christ.

Otherwise, I'm just as bad as Wicks making it about me and not Jesus.

Listen, you don't have to understand, Vlog, but just please, please, please,

please let me be.

Can you say that again? No.

Allow me.

It about you, not Jesus, like Wicks.

You said, Father, this is important.

Help me understand.

We are here to serve the world, not beat it.

That's what Christ did.

So? So when Wicks was talking about fighting the world, for Christ's sake,

he wasn't talking about Christ.

He was talking about his own ego and his power.

He's never talking about Christ.

Yes, over and over, we talk about Christ rising in power, getting his

revenge on the unfaithful.

Eve's apple is the treasure.

Eve's apple restored to the tree.

What? What does that mean? I don't know and I don't care.

That'll be Geraldine coming for our update on the case now, Father.

You're right.

This is market, not yours.

Why don't you head back to the Red Free? I'll handle her.

Thank you.

Make sure the door shut when you leave.

Hope you catch your killer bar.

Thank you.

I I.

Father Judd? Father Judd? He's not here.

I want you to search those back rooms.

And that closet thing, too.

Oh. It's good, right? It's great, actually.

Especially the part where Gideon Fell walks.

You through the possible solutions of a locked up crime.

Yeah, you cover three of them.

Then you stopped.

Now, having read the fourth, I know why.

See, I rewatched the video and I realized something.

From the moment Judd enters the closet until the first of the flock has a

line of sight into that closet is nine seconds.

Nine seconds alone and unseen.

Plenty of time to do the deed with a concealed knife.

That's how it was done, right? No games.

No, that's how it was done.

Yes. And you knew.

You knew all along.

And you toyed with that porchy like a cat with a mouth.

I don't have the whole picture picture just yet.

If you could give me a little more time.

No. I'm going to be able.

No. I found my killer and I'm bringing him in.

Where is he?

Sam?

Sa.

It.

Who's there?

Wait.

Here. Oh.

Who's that? The groundskeeper.

Samson. What the hell happened?

Wix was a hundred percent medically dead.

Dead. We know this.

I'm just.

Just saying.

Right?

Canon. I can also say out loud, a man can't just rise from the dead.

There's obviously some Scooby Doo going on here.

Scooby Doo.

Praise to God.

Praise and glory to the Almighty.

Praise him.

Praise God.

Praise him.

Glory to the Almighty.

Yet raise him.

Hey, Rick.

Set a perimeter on the road.

News is going to spread fast and I don't want any ridiculous.

That motion detector light there, it's also a camera, but it's not hooked up

to anything.

Camera? Maybe it's recording something on a chip inside.

Why don't you bring it into the media lab? Hallelujah.

Praise God.

He has raised up his servant from.

Hey, will you do me a favor? Tape off this entire area down the grove.

It's a homicide scene.

The groundskeeper is dead.

But he has returned.

And he brings magic.

He brings gas.

This is Father Judd.

Father Judd, it's Louise.

How you doing? Uh, yeah, hi, Louise.

I. I hope it's not too late, but you said it was urgent, so I just wanted to

tell you I spoke to James and the order for the forklift was actually placed

by Monsignor Wicks.

He spoke to the James directly about it.

So I.

I do hope that this clears things up.

May God bless you, Father.

You have yourself a good night, okay? Yeah.

Yeah. You too.

Lou.

Yes. Slow down, Martha.

What?

What? It's a miracle.

No, it happened.

Martha said the tomb is empty.

I'm calling everyone.

I'm on my way now.

Did you.

What are you doing? You don't smoke.

I did.

I smoked for 15 years.

Did Le call you? Did he tell you Y.

Okay. Well, I'm going to go win.

It's a miracle.

You enjoy your cigarette indoors.

Praise me.

It's a ghost.

Come on.

Come on.

He's got it.

All right, so it's not great quality.

It's fine.

But.

What am I looking at here?

Okay. Yeah.

So. So it records anytime there's motion.

And this clip is four seconds later.

Okay. Prince from the guarding tool.

We didn't run a full database check.

Just a suspect.

Your question, Father Judd.

Where is he? I sincerely wish I knew.

I'm gonna do it.

I'm gonna turn myself.

I'm turning myself in.

No, you are not.

I did it.

I killed Samson.

I'm guilty.

I have to confess exactly what happened.

But right now, how do I get to Dr.

N's house? It's quickly.

I regret my stalling.

I only hope we're not too late.

Now, just get down.

Hail Mary, full of grace.

The Lord is with you.

Blessed. Our women of.

Blessed. I respect you.

I respect the badge.

And I'm not telling you that I'm going to resort to violence.

But we're going to stay here all night if we have.

We are seeing that.

Is it real? Don't let us in.

I need to see.

Please. I need to see.

Doctor nat.

It.

Oh, God.

What's that smell?

Just wait here.

Plug. Yep.

Oh, God.

Oh, there it is.

Works. Yeah, that's.

It's him.

Is he.

Yeah. I mean, for what it's worth, these days.

Okay, this might get unpleasant.

I mean, more unpleasant.

It.

Doctor. Now.

In the flesh.

Yeah, what's left of it.

Geraldine, It's.

It's Blanc.

Yeah, he's standing right here.

Listen to me.

You're gonna want to come to Dr.

Nat's house.

There's a body or two.

It's all here.

Yes. Yeah, it's.

It's. It's finished.

I'll call you back.

Father, wait.

Wait. I killed Samson.

I have to do this.

Have to do it at my own free will, or it won't mean anything.

You call Geraldine for me, please.

Say Father.

Judge returned to his church.

He's ready to confess.

Father Judd, I'm here to arrest you for the murder of Monsignor Jefferson

Wicks and Sampson Holt.

And your person of interest in the death of Dr.

Nathaniel Sharp.

Nat is dead.

Murdered in his home.

We also recovered Wicks's body.

It's over.

Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.

But if you'd like to confess to Anything? This seems like a pretty great

place to do it.

Yeah.

Years ago, I murdered a man in the boxing ring.

I killed him with hate in my heart.

Last night, that same sin rose in me.

And in a moment of fear and rage, I.

I'm sorry.

That was dramatic.

But I needed you to stop talking.

No, I was about to explain.

Sit down.

Listen. Explain, Please.

Moment of fear raging about.

Do not silence the voice of the Lord.

But sit down and behold the wickedness and shame of the guilty lay bare

before you all.

What is you doing?

Let us begin with Wick's murder.

Right here on Good Friday.

The impossible crime.

And Geraldine, you were correct in your deduction.

When Monsignor Wicks collapsed in that closet space, he wasn't dead.

Wasn't even stabbed.

Not yet.

The flask he kept stashed in the breaker box was sparked with a very

powerful tranquilizer.

He drank from it, fortified himself, and within minutes fell to the floor

unconscious. The clanky clunk leaving him defenseless and giving the killer

their chance to enter the closet and deliver the deadly blow.

I said that already, Father John.

No, the knife was in his back when I found him.

There's something in his back.

So how? When? It's impossible.

I saw.

What did you see? The red devil head.

Blood you assumed was winxes.

Now, I showed you the answer to this.

Did you see El Diablo? The pizza bar? The photograph you thought you saw,

but that wasn't it.

No. There was a second identical lamp.

A second identical devil head.

Yeah.

And it was also missing two devils.

Yes. Platoon.

Painted red.

Wasn't red, though.

It's red now.

The same red as the Good Friday Westerners.

The smart.

Same exact red as the mysterious thread found in the closet.

Because the second devil head was there all the time.

Sewn to the back of his vestments.

Hollow light filled with a small squib of blood triggered by an RF remote

set off at the exact right moment.

A doctor, voice of authority who can wait for the discovery he needs before

taking charge.

Something in his back.

Wait, wait.

Don't touch it.

The moment of distraction presents itself, and the deed is quickly done.

His final task, to remove the incriminating drug laced flask.

But where was was gone.

The one hiccup in his plan.

The result of a moment of foolish grace by Father Judd, who concealed the

flask to hard Wix's drinking and returned later to retrieve it.

My God.

N. Why? Wick was going to scorch the the earth.

He was going to ruin him.

No, the bigger why.

The why that Brought you here.

Why do all this insane, elaborate stuff? The theatricality, the impossible

crime? Why, indeed? Okay, so if Dr.

Nat killed wigs, who killed Nat? Well, now we get to it.

Not some fiddly locked door mystery with devices and clues, but a much, much

larger scheme.

One whose roots run to the bedrock of this church, and one which draws me,

an unbeliever in every sense of the word, into the realm of belief.

To understand this case, I had to look at the myth that was being

constructed. Not to solve whether it was real or not, but to feel in my soul

the essence of that which it strove to convey.

A holy priest struck down by no man but by the hand of Satan himself.

Laid to rest in the sealed tomb of his father, but then risen by the will of

God. God risen as something new.

No longer a fallible man, but now a symbol of the Lord's power over death.

His justice for the holy is vengeance for the wicked.

Okay, and now, what really happened? Yes.

Yes. It is time to break this and talk pad of miracles and resurrections and

reveal what really happened.

It is time for Benoit Blanc's final checkmate over the mysteries of fate.

Are you okay? Damascus.

Damascus. What? Arrow to Damascus thing.

Yes, yes, yes.

Damascus.

I cannot solve this case.

What are you saying? That your conclusion, Benoit Blanc, is that Monsignor

Wicks rose from the dead? That it was a miracle? I'm saying I cannot solve

this case.

That works.

Thank you, Blanc.

If you know what really happened, you should tell everyone.

Is this you sparing our faith or being respectful or something? Because we

deserve the truth.

It is not.

I need the truth.

Can't you just give us the answer? Isn't that what all this is for? And

would you consider blurbing my book? No.

Okay. All right, show's over.

Everyone out, out, out.

Another chapter, and then we're ready.

We're ready to publish.

Trust me.

Alan, call Random.

How's everybody? It's going to be huge.

What we've witnessed is a miracle.

Confirmed by Benoit Blanc himself.

The world will know what happened today here at Chimney Rush.

You can find out yourself.

Follow my YouTube channel.

What a mess.

I assume they'll arrest Father Judd now.

Yes, I suppose they will.

What the hell was that? Road to Damascus.

Scales fell from my eyes.

So what? Fact, Max.

You believe in God, and all this mishigas is real? No.

No. God is a fiction.

My revelation came from.

From Father J.

Here's a example.

To have grace.

Grace for my enemy.

Grace for the broken.

Grace for those who deserve it the least.

But who need it the most.

For the guilty.

Mr. Block, you know the truth.

I do.

Yes. And you made yourself the fool just now so that you could do this of

your own free will.

And now you better do it quickly.

Thank you,

Mother. John,

What do I do? What you were born to do.

Be her priest.

Take her confession.

Bless me, father.

It is a week since my last confession.

I told myself it started with pure intent.

But the truth is.

It started with a lie.

Prentice. Prentice.

I saw him take his final communion.

This is Eve's apple, mother.

My entire cursed fortune.

All the sin in the world, all that Eve hungers for I have trapped it shall

never again be plucked by evil hands upon.

He took the jewel to his grave.

I swore that I would pretend this great sea secret a grace.

She discovered that he had bought the diamond.

I don't know how she knew.

A fancy brand what would come in a custom made fab box itself worth maybe

$20,000. Not a trinket or a plastic Jesus.

No. Something facet cut.

Worth a fortune.

A jewel.

But she didn't know her hid it.

So that night

she didn't desecrate the church in anger.

No, she was.

She was looking for the hidden jewel.

A dark life of desperation.

A prisoner to shame and judgment.

It was her one way out.

The poor girl.

Martha. What did he say to her? I know where he hid it.

And you'll never find it, you harlot horde.

Where is it? Where is it? You little.

I kept the secret of Eve's ash locked in my heart for 60 years.

My terrible burden.

Until. Until I challenge you to confess it.

With defiant pride.

I confessed

to the the wrong priest.

Time is of the essence now.

Last Sunday in the rectory, Vera confronted Wick's new learned about s.

I could accept that he had strayed.

But as he spoke, something became clear.

This was something much bigger.

He was embracing that terrible boy.

That's when I suspected.

So you call a construction company.

Thank you, James.

Then I was certain.

He had ordered the equipment to open the crypt.

To steal the diamond for his own greed and lust for power.

The corrupting sin of Eve's apple would be unearthed and this church would

fall. Because of everything Prentiss had warned me about.

I had failed him.

All my life I was not the bad one.

I was the good one.

The faithful one.

Serving and protecting the church.

If I failed in that, what is my life? I understand my sole purpose.

And I failed.

Unless.

Unless. Unless I could.

I could steal the jewel first and get rid of it forever.

And with the same Stroke raise Wicks up as a miraculous risen saint.

Not a fallible man, but a symbol that would save my church.

All it would take is a miracle.

So I formed my plan.

Wicks's death must be a holy mystery, unsolvable and divine.

But you couldn't do it alone.

Me? No.

A weak man.

I thought desperate.

Someone who would fall in line to save the church and stay in line to cover

his shame.

And who had access to medical grade tranquilizers.

Yes. And that

if all went according to plan.

Oh, God, my vanity.

So wicked.

Martha, I understand.

I promise.

I do.

Keep going.

I'm here.

I didn't reckon the cost.

Forgive me.

Samson, strong Samson, faithful Samson.

Samson who made the coffins.

So you will rise again.

It will be okay.

You will rise again.

You will be okay.

I promise.

He didn't understand why we were doing it.

Anything for you, my angel.

But he trusted me.

Because he loved me.

Oh, look.

How did it go so wrong? It was supposed to be so simple.

The doctor gives the signal.

Samson retrieves the jewel.

The Lazarus door serves its purpose.

All caught on camera the way we planned.

Dr. Nat would drive off with Wake's body in his truck and dispose of it in

that nasty gook in his cellar.

And the next day, Samson would Would tell the tale of the risen saint and

his word of blessing to his faithful groundskeeper before ascending back

into heaven.

A miracle.

It would have been perfect.

I wasn't supposed to be there.

You most certainly were not.

Did you know what had happened when you found Samson's body? I had a.

An idea.

But I had to be sure.

Praise be, it's accomplished.

And he told me the fairy tale of how everything had gone according to plan.

It was only then that I told him I'd been to the crypt.

And I knew he was not lying.

And then he told me the truth.

My second mistake.

Underestimating the temptation of Eve's apple.

Our agreed mission was to destroy it or throw it in the sea.

But all this power will I give thee.

Christ himself could resist temptation.

But this desperate little man, all that stood in his way were Samson and I.

Now here was his opportunity to remove his obstacles, frame a young priest

with a violent past and keep the jewel.

He took it.

Then. All that remained in his way was me.

He had poisoned my coffee with a lethal dose of pentobarbital.

No remedy once ingested.

Painless. A little numbness in the lips.

Then in 10 minutes, time for your final prayer.

Then he begged me to understand why he was doing all this.

That the money would lure back his harpy wife, blah, blah, blah.

I told him I understood.

I understood why he did it.

I had understood it.

All.

These things I did with hatred in my heart.

Vengeance is mine, said the Lord.

That is the story the crime scene will tell the world.

But

inside my heart, I know.

Vengeance is possible.

I.

These sins I confess to you, Father.

I have lied, I have killed.

And now I have topped it all off with a real doozy.

Father. Quickly now.

Quickly. What's happening? I know when I saw her lips, it was already too

late. She's taking the pen to Barbital.

Call the ambulance now.

There might be a poison kid in the prowler.

Forgive me, Lord, for all you have endured.

Forgive me, Lord, for weeks and death.

And Samson.

I. Sweet Samson.

And Grace.

Martha. Grace.

You're safe now.

Let it go.

Let the hatred go.

Grace.

I see it now.

That poor girl.

Forgive me, Chris.

You're really good.

God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son,

has reconciled the world to himself and poured out the Holy Spirit for the

forgiveness of sins.

Through the ministry of the Church, may God grant you pardon and peace.

And the.

I absolve you of your sins.

In the name of the Father and of the Son and the Holy Spirit.

Shit.

The jewel was never found.

The church closed for a while.

The flock, what was left of them, scattered.

Some got what they wanted.

Only did a school discover the one thing every holy man knows.

God has a sense of humor.

Some got a fresh start.

Maybe to find a path that's theirs.

I hope so.

And some got their miracle not being cured or fixed, but finding the

sustaining power to wake up every day and do what we're here to do, in spite

of the pain.

Daily bread.

That's what I pray for with you.

That you find what you're looking for.

Where is it? Sorry.

Sorry. No, God damn it.

I know you both know this is your last chance or we're going to drag your

asses into court.

Mr. Wicks, control yourself.

We'd hope this mediation would resolve this matter.

She gave it to them and they're hiding it.

I know.

We've allowed your representatives to search the church and rectory

thoroughly. They found nothing.

Also, Mr.

Blanc was there and Moffa past.

And he denies anything untoward.

Hey. Any hint you've sold it? Any big charity donations? You fix the roof,

you upgrade your shitty communion wine.

I will watch.

I will audit.

I will find out.

I hope you come back to the church someday.

Sigh. Your real inheritance is in Christ.

Little punk.

His video with you is still trending.

Yes. Benoit Blanc pwned.

Owned with a P.

Whatever that means.

We keep pushing the facts out there, Martha.

What really, really happened.

But it doesn't seem to matter.

Wick's truthers keep flooding off Facebook.

It's an ouse fire.

Such a time to be alive.

You're going to be very popular once you open.

Maybe not in a good way.

Are you ready to take that on? Let them come.

Good luck, kid.

That's enough.

I'm gonna go.

My first mass is coming up, if you want to stick around.

That's so nice of you.

There is nothing I would rather not do.

Too loose,

Broken and the sky is cracked Come on to the house the only things that you

can see Is all that you lack welcome.

Come up to the house or your crying don't do no good Come on up to the house

Come down off the cross we can use the wood Use you gotta.

Come on, look to the house Come on to the house Come on up.