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1 Previously on " Instinct"...

Well, that would suggest an escalation,

and we would be witnessing the birth of a serial killer.

We need to find this guy, today!

I thought I saw some sparks between...

you and Lizzie.

She's out of my league.

What happened?

I can't talk about it.

I can't live like this.

It's why I... need to walk away from us.

She said, "I would like to meet to talk about

the possibility of adoption."

Oh, I love that sentence.

I love every word, even the punctuation.

Will you be this baby's parents?

Yes.

He killed again.

Or are you next?

♪ I can hear you breathing

♪ Leaving all of you behind

♪ And I'm free

♪ And have always been

♪ If I just really looked

♪ And allowed myself to see

♪ Confusion is seducing me

♪ Warm, flowing wine

♪ His eyes summer, hypnotize

♪ They see inside of me

♪ Into the arms of the lovers

♪ Please

♪ Into the arms of a lover.

What about Pops?

Big Papa?

Ooh. Sire? Sire?

I'm not a feudal lord.

How about something outside the box, like "Dad"?

Thought I was "Dad." Our baby can't have two dads.

- Hey. - You know what I mean.

Well, anyway, Sam has still six months to go,

so unless this baby comes out talking,

we have some time to figure it out.

We always do.

You know, I still can't believe how lucky we are

with Sam and this adoption.

I can't believe that we'll soon be having breakfast for three.

Oh, God, you have no idea how many ways we can kill this baby.

Oh, please, tell me.

Aside from cow's milk and nuts, babies can't have honey.

- What? - It can harbor spores,

which multiply in the baby's intestines

and develop into infant botulism.

Sounds like the worst Pixar movie ever.

Why the panic?

Because six months will fly by.

We have so much baby prep to do.

Well, we can divide and conquer.

You don't have time to divide, let alone conquer.

Between your catching killers, teaching, writing your new book.

I'm pushing back the delivery of my book.

Joan's vacation in Paris

- inspired her to write her memoirs. - Ooh.

She's extended her trip indefinitely,

and she won't be bugging me for a while.

Won't they just assign you another editor?

Mm. They already have. Harry Kassabian.

He's been trying to set up a meeting,

but I've been avoiding his calls.

Well, does he know how close you are to being done?

I haven't started.

What? You write every night.

How...? You got to have something to show for it.

Mm. Stray thoughts and the words, "writing sucks,"

typed resentfully again and again and again.

Maybe I can help.

Be a good distraction

from imagining all the life-threatening things

we could unknowingly inflict on our child.

You know how many hours I spent

going over bloodless prose as a lawyer.

Not that your prose is bloodless, though.

Thanks, but I'll figure it out.

Right.

Looks like you slept better than I did.

The perks of makeup.

All last night, I couldn't get your words,

"I need to walk away from this," out of my head.

I have a bad habit of keeping more secrets than I need to.

Gee, you think?

Okay, here it is.

I had to burn my former cover because someone's after me.

The precinct offered me a secure place to work,

and it allowed me to be near you.

Someone is after you? Who?

I don't know.

Is it the same someone who, um, broke your ribs

wherever you were?

I was in Istanbul,

tailing a former CIA operative who may be involved.

Now you know everything.

Sorry if I'm not responding.

This is a lot to digest. I, um...

Maybe I need some time away from... to think.

Of course.

One more thing.

This is my last day here at the precinct.

I thought that would be best.

Anything else before I get to work?

I think that just about covers it.

To fully understand the behavior of the Sleeping Beauty killer,

I think we need to go back.

Back all the way to Nebraska.

Ken Rego was killed in what seems to be a heat-of-the-moment

passion murder.

Then the killer feels remorse, and so he lays Ken to rest

in a makeshift blanket and pillow.

Then the killer moves to New York.

Was the remorse unbearable? Was he fleeing his guilt?

Two weeks ago, 18 months after the Rego murder,

he meets Nancy Lee in a bar,

learns that she spent her summers in Nebraska,

panics and kills her using the same M.O.

Ditto for the bartender, Moseby,

who saw them together that night.

Yes, but for Moseby, he brings his own blanket and pillow.

That's where his identity and M.O. evolves,

his behavior changes.

He begins to engage with us.

First of all, through the Polaroid with the message.

Then more directly, and recklessly,

by infiltrating Ryan's hotel room, showcasing

his signature.

Now, I think the cowboy motif on the pillow and blanket

signify something meaningful.

Does the iconography tell us anything

about the identity of the killer?

Any updates on the scene?

CSU worked the area, bagged the blanket, pillow,

- dusted for prints. - Lab techs confirmed the blood

found on the pillow was from a cat.

Cat. And here I didn't think

I could hate this lowlife any more.

Any witnesses or CCTV?

Nothing yet, but we're gonna go back

to the area today to check to see if there's any other footage.

Why is the killer reaching out?

Well, if he has a fragile ego, as most serial killers do,

by communicating with us, he feels more powerful.

And what do we communicate to the public and the media?

- Nothing. - We stay quiet.

We control the narrative.

What this killer wants, maybe more than anything, is oxygen.

The more attention he gets, the more powerful he feels,

the more likely he is to kill again.

There's a body in an art installation.

Well, hold on a second, Reinhart.

You're on this case. Can you handle both?

Oh, I can walk, chew gum

and write a paper on boanthropy disorder at the same time.

You say stuff like that just so I don't want you around, right?

Go.

- Excuse me. Excuse me. - Excuse us.

Thank you.

Witness reported finding the body early this morning.

So far, no prints, no DNA, no trace evidence.

We're running the vic's I.D. right now.

Thanks, Sarge. Whoa, we got a live audience today.

Yeah, people seem to think it's the work of some dude named Ace.

The street artist?

Who is he? Should I know him?

A ghost. No one's ever seen him.

Excuse us, guys. Excuse us.

I guess I don't get art these days.

Suits, ready to feast.

Greedy as pigs.

In front of the Fed, a message for all the world to see.

This sure looks like an Ace.

Does Ace usually put dead bodies in his work?

- Aside from that. - How can anyone do this

without being seen?

Oh, Ace has gotten into the Louvre,

he's climbed Big Ben undetected.

He's a master of stealth.

In an age when everybody wants to be seen,

Ace has somehow remained anonymous.

Looks personal. I count seven stab wounds.

Seven? Like the seven deadly sins,

or the seventh day, the day of rest.

Or maybe it took seven stabs to kill the guy.

Ace's work has always been political,

message-based, but never violent.

Maybe it's a fake.

We can start bagging now.

What are you thinking?

How we're gonna go about finding

the most elusive artist in the world.

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Let me guess. It's a statement about a well-dressed baby

deciding what to eat.

I call it "War and Peas."

Which is why you install the art and don't make it.

Pete?

Pete. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to clients.

Hear that,

"Pete"?

It's Paul. I'm so sorry.

Hi. I'm Amber Williams. Are you interested

- in an Ace? - In a way, yes.

You've heard about the murder in the Ace installation?

I did. It's hard to believe someone would do that.

Someone? You don't think it was Ace?

No. Nothing in his art suggests that kind of sensibility.

- So you know who Ace is? - No.

I've never met the man.

He contacts me through encrypted e-mail,

tells me when to expect a delivery.

Payment is done via Bitcoin.

You handle all of Ace's sales?

I began selling Ace's work seven years ago,

when he was an unknown and no one else would rep him.

His last piece sold for 5.5 million.

We'll need to look at your records.

Of course.

So, do you think the installation at the crime scene

was an authentic Ace?

It has all the hallmarks of an Ace.

Papier-mâché figures,

impressionism, a provocative statement.

I-I just can't believe he'd do this.

I'm sure you have a way to verify the pieces.

There's only one way to authenticate an Ace.

Ace has a very specific signature.

He adds a splash of platinum to the paint in all of his artwork.

So, if you run a precious metal detector over the piece

and hear a beep, you know it's an Ace.

Verifying it's authentic

is actually easier than switching this thing off.

But just because it's a verified Ace

doesn't mean that he's the killer.

True. But anonymity can change a person's behavior.

Ace has been breaking the law in the name of art

without any consequences for years now.

He may be more inclined to commit murder

if he thinks he can get away with it.

Right. People who live in the shadows think

they have a license to do whatever they want.

Thank God he's almost done here.

Why "thank God"?

We broke up last night.

What?

Are you okay?

I don't know how Andy managed dating a spy,

but I can't do it.

Well, he didn't.

Andy got me to leave the Agency.

I'm sorry.

I am, too. I just need to focus on something else.

Yeah, that's gonna be hard today when you look up

- and he's right there. - Yeah. Thank you.

That is so helpful.

We got a hit on your Vic.

Gustavo Cutillo, 33, hedge fund manager.

It explains "Greedy Pig."

Wall Street has its fair share

of greedy pigs. Why target this one?

If you two need any info on Ace, ask Fucci.

Wait, wait, what?

Did you just say,

if we need to ask questions about art,

we should direct them to Detective Fucci,

the man who has a framed picture

of the New York Mets mascot on his dining room wall?

He has a name: Mr. Met.

And Lou didn't say ask me about art.

She said ask me about Ace. It's been my personal mission

to nail that little dirtbag ever since I was a beat cop.

But every time we'd get close to him, he seems to slip away.

He's been my Captain Ahab.

I think you mean your white whale.

Yeah, listen, Doc.

Whatever. I don't want to turn this into a race thing.

All I know is that, when I was a kid in Marine Park,

if you spray-painted a paddleball court,

you were a vandal.

Now you spray-paint somebody's storefront,

and you're a damn celebrity.

Yeah, any useful information that we should know?

Oh, yeah. According to my geographic profile,

there's a good chance he lives in Lower Manhattan.

If the mountain will not come to Muhammad,

then Muhammad must go to the mountain.

Heads up, this guy's a lunatic.

The great Dylan Reinhart.

Harry Kassabian.

I've been looking forward to this.

Since you've been avoiding me, I'm guessing you haven't.

No. No, I haven't been avoiding you.

No?

Then I apologize.

It's just not a great time.

Oh, I'll be quick.

Is there somewhere we can chat?

Look, I know I owe you a book.

And it's a book I want to write, but I'm busy.

And I know how busy you are with all your amazing clients...

Joan told me about how charming you can be.

Doesn't work on me.

I'm charm-proof.

Stick it in your book.

Oh, this is good.

As much as I love and cherish Dylan,

I'm really enjoying this.

Ten bucks says Reinhart cracks.

Make it 20.

Do you see what I'm doing?

Praying?

I'm trying to read your book,

but something is preventing me.

Tell me,

why is there no book in my hands?

Because I haven't written it yet.

- Because you're too busy. - For now, yes.

Funny, because you're not too busy to cash the checks we send you.

Signing the name on the back of a check

takes considerably less time

than writing a 75,000-word manuscript.

Well, then you better write fast

and get your priorities straight.

Because if I don't get that manuscript by the end of the week,

your deal goes bye-bye.

This week?

Sorry to interrupt.

Just saying bye-bye.

Told you it'd be quick.

He looks fun.

Are you okay?

I miss Joan.

Turns out our Vic Gustavo's hedge fund looks like a shell company.

Home and office addresses are the same.

He may have been laundering money.

Maybe that's why Ace targeted him.

We'll check it out.

There was a break-in in that hotel last night.

Does your security camera capture any of the street here?

Nah. Just looks into the coffee shop.

Look, I'm sorry I can't be more helpful, Officers.

Hey, let me get you both a cup of coffee.

Ah, perks of the badge.

Throw in a cruller, and I'll let you make a collar.

Relax, Thor. I'm kidding.

You're absolutely sure

that it doesn't capture this angle over here?

No. No.

None of that.

I'll be right back.

Someone's in my hotel room.

Cover out here!

Hey!

Stop! Police!

Gotcha.

Well done, Thor.

Get up.

Who are you?

Remaining silent, huh?

Come on.

Feels like a Bond villain lives here.

Smells like money.

And something else.

Uh, criminal activity?

No, I was thinking more...

nail polish,

glue.

'Cause, based on Zack's info,

the Vic wasn't trying to make his clients money.

Maybe he was ripping them off.

Ponzi scheme?

Maybe Ace was a client, and he murdered him to send a message.

That's some message.

The furniture layout is perfect,

the design impeccable.

But the placement

of that fireplace is all off.

It's in the corner.

It's not the focal point of the room, like it should be.

You have two murders to solve, a book to write,

an adoption to plan for, and you're focused

on the feng shui of the victim's apartment?

If our victim was hiding money in a bogus hedge fund,

he may be hiding something else.

You looking for a candlestick to remove,

Young Frankenstein?

That's "Frahnkensteen."

An art studio.

Glue.

I knew I smelled something.

Huh.

A sketch of the crime scene.

This looks familiar.

One of Ace's figures.

Platinum shavings.

Gustavo was Ace.

So, the person we thought was our killer

is actually our victim.

According to Gustavo's travel records, he was in Rome

when a major Ace installation went up at the Pantheon.

Same with Rio, Prague, Jerusalem.

He was Ace.

The hedge fund manager was a cover.

If he used the shell corporations to hide the money

he made as an artist, frankly, it's brilliant.

And he wasn't just an artist.

He was also a romantic.

Kept all these love letters.

Love letters. I didn't think anyone wrote those anymore.

I'm lucky if Andy sends me a thumbs-up emoji.

They're all from someone named Syl,

who talks about how hard it is keeping their secret.

- Secret? - Mm.

Maybe Syl knows why he was killed and who did it.

Or maybe Syl got sick and tired

of having a boyfriend with a secret identity.

It's not easy being in love with a ghost.

You warned me about him, and you were right.

- So you want to talk about this now? - I'm good.

Do you think Julian could ever change?

Oh, I think everyone's capable of change.

Even Julian.

Okay, hit me with a theory.

Well, Julian comes from...

No, not about him... about the case.

Oh. Um, well, um,

someone knew Gustavo was Ace and wanted to unmask him.

Plus, they need to know a thing or two about street art.

So, another artist?

Artists have feuded for centuries.

Michelangelo had a vicious rivalry with da Vinci.

It led to a bitter painting contest.

Let's ask the expert.

Dexter freaking Davies.

Ace's biggest rival. Always tried to top him.

Things got ugly when Davies called Ace a fraud on the,

um, Tweeter.

Your vast amount of Ace factoids is beginning to scare me.

He does sound like someone who has motive and means.

Maybe Dexter Davies

wanted to destroy Ace's name and expose him to the world.

Okay. Let's go find out.

Take him to the box.

- What's his story? - Caught him snooping around

his hotel room. Hasn't said a single word yet.

Uh, Dylan,

we could use your interrogation magic in there.

His "magic"? Wow, you guys are adorable.

All you need's a chocolate malt and two straws.

I hope you don't mind sharing me. There is enough to go around.

Magic or ego?

This could be a big break in the case.

Okay, well, fire up that magic.

I'll handle Davies all by myself.

Preposterous.

You think I placed a body in his art installation

in front of the bloody Fed

to get back at him?

No way.

After reading your tweets, doesn't sound too crazy to me.

Take a look around, my love.

Uh, Detective Needham.

I'm preparing for the Claridge Art Gala.

I'm clearly too busy to kill anyone right now.

Although I might have an opening

next Thursday at 4:00, however.

Smile.

Life is short.

Ask that poor guy in the installation.

So you and Ace weren't feuding?

Not everything you read online is true.

The feud wasn't real.

I don't hate him or his work.

It was manufactured for exposure, dear.

Ace calling me "a no-talent Muppet"

was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Why would Ace want to help you?

A close friend said she would set up a feud

and convince Ace to go along with it.

Next thing I know, Ace is calling me out online.

I owe her my career.

I'm gonna need her name.

Sylvia Mau.

She runs the blog Vandal Life.

Documents Ace's work.

Thank you, Mr. Davies.

Don't leave town. You're still a person of interest.

- I'm flattered. - Yeah.

It's not a compliment.

This is Dennis Walker.

What were you looking for in my room?

Wow. He takes his right to remain silent very seriously.

Since you don't want to answer any questions,

is there anything you'd like to ask us?

Who's Sleeping Beauty?

It's written on the wall of your hotel room

with all those crime scene photos.

Take it off.

Dennis Walker.

I knew I remembered that name.

And that voice. Our friend here has a very popular true crime podcast,

which I happen to enjoy.

You're a fan?

Mm, of the podcast.

How many victims are there so far?

Do you have any suspects?

How did you know to go to my room?

I don't reveal my sources.

They gave me a hotel address and a room number.

I had no idea what it was

until I got there and saw blood on the mattress.

Dennis, you do realize we're trying to catch a murderer here

before another victim dies?

I understand.

Who is Sleeping Beauty? The killer?

We don't discuss open investigations.

Dennis,

who's your source?

It's a private number.

No name.

Are you happy?

I could get my audience to crowd-solve this case with you.

This could be good for all of us.

I'll trace the number, but it's probably a burner phone.

Either way, I say we hold him,

get him to talk off record.

- Maybe he knows more. - Yeah.

The main thing right now is for Dennis to stay quiet.

Tell him, if he agrees not to go public,

we will guarantee him exclusive scoops

- at the appropriate time. - So you want to cut him loose?

Yes, but you follow him; make sure he stays safe.

We don't want another victim on our hands.

- You recognized his voice? - Hmm.

I have a phonographic memory.

A what?

Reinhart, another body dropped.

This time in an art gallery.

Needham will meet you there.

So, "love letters Syl" was an art blogger

who was at the first crime scene

and was having a relationship with Gustavo.

I'd say that makes her a suspect.

Made her a suspect.

Cupid, roses, a silk sheet.

New victim, new theme: "Love is blind."

A couple is dating, both in the art world,

both end up dead.

Spurned lover, spouse, rival?

Did you count the stab wounds?

No. Did you?

It's just, you did last time. I mean...

Fine, I'll do it.

Thank you.

One, two...

14. Hmm.

Number 14 represents personal freedom.

Of course, 14 is also St. Valentine's Day,

so it might have to do with love,

or of course it could have neither meaning.

I have a question.

How is our killer making Ace installations

when Ace is dead?

Perhaps it's someone from Ace's world

who didn't want them together.

Or it could be someone

who might profit from the attention.

I came back to close up when I saw her there.

I followed Sylvia's blog. We all did.

It's horrible.

- And no one saw anything unusual? - No.

Lots of people have been coming in and out all day.

The Claridge Art Gala is tonight.

It's the biggest art night of the year,

and I'm presenting.

I was at the venue for a rehearsal and...

came back to this.

- Have you seen this work before? - No.

It's new and, frankly, unimpressive.

It's a little convoluted.

Muddled theme, sloppy brush work.

And the mutilated corpse in the middle of it?

Honestly, it's the only thing notable about it.

Mm, I'm sure your gallery's gonna get

a lot of attention from this.

I would think so.

You're not thinking I had something to do with this?

Yes, we are.

This is not the type of attention I want.

This is a nightmare.

Check with the people at the venue.

They saw me there. I didn't do anything.

Okay, thank you. One more question.

Do you know of any relationship between Sylvia and Ace?

No. If she was dating Ace,

she's as good at keeping secrets as he is.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Nah.

She seems genuinely horrified. I don't think it was her.

Her alibi will be easy to check,

but if it's not her and it's not Sylvia,

then we have no suspect, no witnesses, no leads, no one.

Just two dead bodies in two staged installations.

Staged, like the Sleeping Beauty victims.

We're talking about this case.

There are two reasons to stage a body.

One is for attention; the other reflects

a deep emotional desire of the killer.

Sleeping Beauty's stagings are regretful.

This killer is an artist.

His central motif is dead bodies.

Gustavo was depicted as a greedy pig.

And Sylvia as a fallen angel,

lured into the darkness, punished for her love.

Punished for the secret they were keeping?

Yes.

We need to learn more about their relationship.

If she was writing him love letters,

I bet he wrote her some, too.

Gustavo lived like a king, and Sylvia like...

A starving artist.

Maybe she needed money; he had it.

The same blueprints Gustavo had.

These are painted.

Same technique as the installations.

She wasn't just his girlfriend

or another artist.

Sylvia was Ace, too.

They were partners.

I'll bet Gustavo did the human figures.

Uh, he was the sculptor.

And then the detail, the-the skilled hand,

that was was all Sylvia. She was the painter.

And the killer knew both their covers.

Here's a love letter from Gustavo

from just a few days ago.

"Syl, we can't keep hiding like this.

"Our art is bigger than Ace. We need to come out.

Please stand by me in this decision. Love, G."

Blind love.

They lived their lives in secrecy for their art,

and now they wanted out.

And someone killed them before they had a chance to reveal themselves.

Someone who wanted control of the Ace brand

- or a jealous rival. - His artistic rival.

Dexter Davies.

Maybe he knew more than he let on.

I'll check out his alibi.

Hey.

Any updates?

I've been tracking this guy all day.

No signs he's being followed.

Maybe you should let someone else take over for the night.

I'm good.

You know, I've been catching up on this guy's podcast.

He... I mean, he really loves killers.

It almost makes me like him.

- Okay, talk soon. - Yeah.

Sorry to disturb your writing.

I'm not writing.

- I had a feeling. Here. - What's this?

All those stray thoughts and random notes on your desk.

I've organized them into something resembling

the beginnings of a semi-coherent idea.

Andy, this book is about me,

and it's supposed to be written by me,

and I didn't ask for your help.

You never do.

I know you thrive on wearing

all your hats at once, but... it's okay to take one off.

I-I won't think any less of you.

In fact, just the opposite.

Is this any good?

No.

It's terrible, but it's a start.

Look, I'm not a writer, but I was a marketing major

before I switched to pre-law.

At least let me come up with some catchy message

that'll distract Kassabian from the lack of an actual book.

Message.

That's what I'm missing.

All Ace's work had a message: uh, words,

titles, a provocative point of view.

What if Ace...

...was a trio and the third artist

supplied... the message?

So I helped.

You always do, even when I don't ask for it.

Thanks, Big Papa.

I'm Dad, okay? I am definitely Dad.

Hey.

I'm finishing up my final scan of the system.

Then I'll head out.

So, I thought about what you told me,

and I have one question.

Were you open with me

because you're trying to be more honest

or because you thought it could get us back together?

After everything I told you, that's what you want to know?

Yes.

You asked me to be more forthright with you

about what I do.

Now you question my motives?

Why you're telling me about your work

is just as important as what you're telling me.

It's one and the same.

What happens next time there's a secret

that you feel like you need to keep?

I'll miss Jules.

And I'll miss seeing you two together.

Not now, Dylan.

But I won't miss the drama.

Good-bye, Detective Needham.

Good-bye.

Just curious.

In a post-breakup world,

how much longer will Julian still be working with us?

It's already way too long.

Okay, too soon. Got it.

Do you want to hear my theory?

If I say "no," you're gonna tell me anyway.

Hmm. So, we know Ace was more than one artist,

but what if he was more than two?

Gustavo sculpted, Sylvia painted,

but we haven't accounted for the political messages.

They gave Ace's work meaning.

So you think there could be at least one more member of Ace?

Davies?

No, his alibi is rock solid.

But I did find another connection

between Sylvia and Gustavo.

They met at City College in 2007

right before Ace's work started showing up around town.

Well, maybe that's where they started working together.

We need a list of the students

and all their classes over four years.

One for old times' sake?

Sure. This won't be uncomfortable at all.

I've narrowed down the classes from the back cache

of the school's database to find the art class

Gustavo and Sylvia took together

sophomore year.

Hmm. A virtual museum of the student's artwork.

That looks like a Gustavo papier-mâché sculpture.

Yeah. And that looks like a Sylvia painting.

No.

Go back.

Zoom in.

A classic Ace political message.

In the same font Ace used.

From a student named Paul Wexford.

Hey. Paul? Wasn't that the name

of the art installer at the gallery?

The one Amber called Pete?

Can you, uh, pull up more information on him, please?

I'm already on it.

Yes, that's him. You're right.

He knew about Ace's work,

and he could set it up in Amber's gallery.

And stage Sylvia's body there.

Can you text us?

You both have his address.

Thanks, Julian.

_

The safe haven of someone who's lost control.

Props from both crime scenes.

2008 to 2019. Do you think Paul wanted to end Ace?

The seventh day, the day of rest. Hmm?

- You were listening. - Huh.

Or not resting.

Take a look at this.

Looks like Paul wanted to take Ace in a new direction.

And by putting dead bodies in the artwork,

he was redefining Ace's identity.

But he thinks he can kill his partners and still be Ace? How?

Well, his inflated sense of self-worth and identity.

Those are the symptoms of a delusional disorder.

Still, they've been Ace for years. Why kill now?

Well, that sort of disorder can be triggered by intense stress.

If Paul wanted to keep the secret of Ace,

but Gustavo and Sylvia were sick of the anonymity

and wanted to come out,

it may well have triggered it.

Ace is reborn.

If Paul is deluded, he may think

he could keep killing and hide in plain sight forever.

Amber's presenting the opening exhibit

at the Claridge Art Gala tonight.

And we both know who's installing it.

Paul, this isn't the Ace we're showing.

This is what Ace wants.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy to be here.

I just hate his art.

Paul, you're under arrest.

I don't think so.

- No! No! - Hey, put it down.

Keep your voices down.

We know the secret.

You're Ace. So was Gustavo and Sylvia.

They wanted to come out, so you killed them.

They said they didn't need me,

that they could make art without Ace.

I couldn't let them.

Yes, Gustavo and Sylvia didn't listen,

but Amber didn't do anything wrong.

She treated me like a nobody when I made her career.

Remember that?

How could she? You didn't tell her.

You didn't tell anyone.

Ace,

let her go.

She's my next exhibit.

No...

The gala's about to begin.

When the people behind that door

find out that the great Ace is just Paul Wexford,

an art installer, Ace will not be reborn;

Ace will be dead.

Let her go, and we will keep your secret.

No!

No!

Drop the knife, Paul. Drop the knife.

Fucci, you want the honors?

You know I do.

I've waited a long time for this.

Put your hands behind your back.

Get up.

You're under arrest, you son of a bitch.

Going to see your editor?

When do you have time to write a book?

I'll find time.

Need I remind you I have already had a book published?

You needn't, and it was quite good,

but you weren't solving murders

or expecting a baby when you wrote it.

Now you sound like Andy.

There are worse people to sound like.

Well, I don't want to hold you up

from writing the next best seller.

Last night, there was a failed DDOS attack

on the precinct's server.

I can't identify where the threat came from,

but I believe it'll be attempted again.

What's it capable of?

Complete control of the NYPD network

and the ability to make it inaccessible.

Do you think someone traced you?

It's possible,

but I took all the necessary precautions.

It's neutralized for now,

but it could spread across the network.

So it looks like you won't be leaving the precinct after all.

And I've already said good-bye to all the chaps.

And to Lizzie.

In more ways than one.

I really thought I could manage it.

Being in a relationship, being a spy,

Jules.

But by trying to be everyone, I ended up as no one.

And I think I lost her.

We set a meeting, and you actually showed.

That's a start.

Are there pages in there?

Joan told me you were fast.

What's that?

Your money back.

I know I gave you my...

well, technically gave Joan my word, and signed a contract,

but I don't have the time to make good on it,

and I don't want to hand in a book that isn't good.

So you want me to let you out of your contract?

Yes.

There are more important things

I can't risk losing.

Sorry.

How long do you need?

Oh, I don't think you understand what I'm saying.

You don't understand what I'm saying.

I set that deadline to motivate you.

I don't want that check.

I want your book.

I'll wait if I have to.

But when you deliver it...

better be a masterpiece.

Get out of here.

You're still here?

I can see why you're a detective.

I thought you ran your final thingamabob last night.

It seems my exit strategy is not going according to plan.

In my final scan, I found a breach in the system.

A sophisticated malware bot.

A malware bot?

Yes. I'm going to have to design a more advanced thingamabob.

Perhaps even, dare I say, a cutting-edge whosamawhatsit.

What does that mean?

I'm not sure yet, but it could be targeting me or the NYPD.

So you're not leaving?

I can't.

Not until I find out what's going on.

I apologize.

Why are you telling me this?

Because you deserve to know.

Thank you.

Mm.

Dennis just posted something.

I'm still outside his apartment.

Hello, listeners.

I have an interesting new story.

One the cops don't want you to know about.

A couple of bodies, and the NYPD is calling our murderer

the Sleeping Beauty killer.

- Why? Because he lovingly... - Son of a bitch.

...tucks his victims in after brutally murdering them.

And tonight, I have a special guest...

Is... is he doing this live?

...the Sleeping Beauty killer himself.

Tell us your story.

Everyone at some point in their life

wants to kill someone, but we never do.

Why? Because we're taught it's wrong

and our world will end.

Well, it is wrong,

and not everyone thinks about killing someone.

What is it that defines right and wrong?

So, then what happened?

Then one day, I did it.

And I did it again.

Did the world change because three people died?

Where is he?

Did my world end?

I thought you guys were keeping this a secret.

Not anymore.

So much for controlling the narrative.