All language subtitles for Mr.Mercedes.S03E09.WEBRip.x264-ION10

- Previously
on "Mr. Mercedes"...

- Well, let's talkabout your living arrangements.

- You could live with me.
- Have you gone mad?

- I can't just abandon her. - It's your man's girlfriends.

- Alma Lane.

- I found this
in Rothstein's hate mail.

She's an artist.

- I mean, here were versions
of me in some of his books.

- Who were you?
- I was Susan.

- This book is not

on the school board's
approved reading list.

You and Jimmy Gold
will get along.

- I, uh, picked up the listingon the old Bridgeton Jazz Club.

There's a bunch of shit in
there I want you to pick up.

- I may have some materials.

- There's somebody out there
looking for those books

who will kill to get them!

- What about the manuscripts?
- The kid's got 'em.

- You get pickaxe.

[grunts]

- You and me,
I don't think we sustain.

If I continue to see him,
I might fall in love with him.

- You can't break up
with someone

'cause you're afraid
you might love them.

If you like this man,
go be with him.

- Our window is closing.
We need to grab the mother.

- [muffled screaming]

- Marjorie?
Oh, Jesus.

- Petey, remember me?

And, of course,
you remember your mother.

- [muffled scream]
- Don't you fucking touch her!

- We will be making a plan
for the book delivery

or it's mommy deadest.

[dramatic music]

♪

- Hi, this is Danielle.

Leave a message
after the beep.

- All right, look...
[sighs]

First, it's fucking cruel,
borderline inhumane,

not to at least let me know
you're okay.

Second...

If I get wind that you're with
some other guy, you are dead.

You hear me?
Him, too.

You're both dead.

And third, come on.
[scoffs]

You can't do better
than me, Danielle.

Women, you all say
you want a good guy.

Somebody trustworthy
and dependable and sensitive

and all that crap, which is
total fucking bullshit.

Those are the assholes
who get cheated on or dumped.

You all want the bad boy,
and I am it, baby.

I'm good-looking,
I'm unpredictable,

and I fuck good.

It's the goddamn triple crown!

You will come
crawling back to me!

It's only a matter of time,
you piece of shit.

Fuck.

[Bob Dylan's
"Series of Dreams"]

- ♪ I was thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

♪ Where nothing

♪ Comes up to the top

♪

♪ Everything

♪ Stays down
where it's wounded ♪

♪

♪ And comes

♪ To a permanent stop

♪

♪ Wasn't thinking

♪ Of anything specific

♪

♪ Just thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

♪ Just thinking

♪ Of a series of dreams

♪

- You see, we ought
to nourish the reader,

even if it's
only a little bit.

Stir his brain,
move his heart.

Offer him some escape
from the oppressive monotony

of his, uh,
pathetic own reality.

Give him something

that he, uh, could have
only gotten from you.

Otherwise, what's the point
of being a writer at all?

A good book isn't something
to pass the time...

[sirens wailing]

It should make
your goddamn day.

- Fuck, pick up, pick up,
pick up, pick up.

[phone rings, buzzes]

- Ah.

[ringing, buzzing continue]

Well...

seems we certainly got
his attention.

[chuckles]

[sniffs]

I guess he loves you, huh?

- Answer it.
- [muffled whimper]

[shaky breathing]

- Pick up, God damn it!

Fuck.

- No, we'll let him
spend the night worrying.

The thing about anxiety,

takes on a life of its own.

The mind begins to play tricks,

imagining all the bad things
that can happen.

Well, I don't need to tell you.

- [sniffles]

- Tomorrow, he'll be desperate
to do whatever we tell him,

and he'll be sleep deprived.

- What if he's called
the police already?

- You watch
too much television.

We need to cut down
on his screen time, huh?

- [muffled whimpering]
- Enough, okay?

Nobody likes a whiner.
It's not attractive.

- [grunts]

[glass tinkling]

[phone ringing]

Oh, Jesus, Peter.

Peter, hey.
- He's got Mom.

- I know, I know,
but who is he?

What is going on?

- I found the Rothstein books
in the car.

This guy,
probably Rothstein's killer,

he knows I have the books.

He's looking to make a deal.

He'll release Mom
in exchange for the books.

- Oh, fuck.
Where are you?

- I'm not gonna say where,
I don't want to--

- Ah, Jesus, fuck, Peter!
Come on, man!

- Out of town,
but don't ask me where.

He's probably looking
at the house

hoping you'll lead him to me.

I'd give him the books,
but then he'll kill Mom.

- I know, I know,
they called here too.

- He did?
- Yeah, yeah.

He said if I--
if I reported her missing,

if I so much
as even talk to the police--

- I'm so sorry, Dad.

I--I should have
listened to you.

- Look, buddy,
part of me thinks

we need to call
the police on this.

- No, no, no, no.
- Fuck, Pete, we need help!

- This guy we're dealing with,
he killed Rothstein,

the bookstore owner.

As long as I have the books,
he'll need to keep Mom alive.

- We have to come up
with some kind of a plan here,

otherwise, she is fucked.

She is gonna--
they're gonna kill her.

[doorbell rings]

[Boogers barking]

Somebody's here.
- What? Who?

[knocking at door]

- Stay by your phone.
- No, no, no, no!

Don't answer the door.
It's probably him.

Don't--
- I don't know, I don't know.

Just stay by your phone.
I'll call you back.

[Boogers barking]
[knocking continues]

Boogers, get away.

Okay.

- Uh, listen, I know it'searly, but something's come up.

Can I come in for a second?

- It's, um--it's not
a good time, Bill.

- It's kind of important.

- Can it wait?
- "Can it wait"?

Your son is missing.

Is he still missing?

- Yes, he's missing.

- Are you all right?
- No, Bill, I'm not all right.

My son is missing.
I'm a fucking wreck.

- But whatever I might have,
it can wait.

- What do you have?

- Okay.

This is Peter in the bookstore

where the owner
was just found killed.

- What are you saying?

You--you think
he's a suspect in that?

- I think
exactly what you think:

that he went in there

to sell the stolen
Rothstein manuscripts.

Did he ever mention
Andrew Halliday to you?

- No.

- Can I get a cup of tea--

- It's not a--
not a good time, Bill.

[stammers]
I'm not feeling well and...

- Is somebody here?

- No, o-other than Marjorie,
who's in bed.

She--she took a pill.

Why don't I come down
to your office, um,

later this morning, huh?

- You don't seem yourself.

- My son is missing, Bill.

- What's going on, Tom?

- It's not a good time.

[phone clicks]

[keys tap]

[phone line trilling]

[phone line beeps]

- Hey, Holly.

Something weird's going on
with Tom Saubers' house.

- Should we call the police?

- Uh, there's nothing
really to report.

- But you suspect
something's up, right?

- I know something's up.
You at the office?

- Uh, no, I'm at home with Lou.

- How's she doing?

- Um, she's settling in.

- All right, call Jerome.

Tell him get the hell
into the office.

- Got it.

- I do not have a good feeling.

- That was Bill.

- Yeah?
Was he talking about me?

- [laughs]
- My sphincter was itching.

[laughs]

- We're gonna be worried
about you, Lou, you know?

I suggest you get used to it.

- So I--I was thinking

that maybe I could help out
at the office a little bit.

You don't have to pay me
or anything--

- Yeah.
- But I could, uh, you know--

it might help to occupy
myself while I, um,

- look for work.
- Totally, yeah.

- I could help with the
computers, spell Jerome some.

[phone rings]

- That'd be gre--
sorry, one second.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, no.
Totally, totally.

- Hello?

This--this is Holly.

Holly Gibney.

Uh, excuse me?

[stammers] Sorry, is this
some kind of joke?

O-okay, I'll have
to call you back later.

Thank you.

- Who was that?
Was that Finkelstein?

- No, it was not Finkelstein.

- [moaning]
Yeah!

Morris, come on, come on!
[stammers]

- Oh, yes.
- Morris, what are you--

[stammers]
Ooh!

What the hell
has gotten into you?

- [grunts]
Ow!

The hell is that?
- You tell me!

- [grunts]
What are you talking about?

What's wrong with you?

- You were making love to her,
not me.

You've been making love to her
ever since I told you.

- Told me what?
- Don't bullshit me, Morris.

You're fucking Susan.

The Susan in the book.

- I'm fucking both of you.

You said she's you, so what
difference does it make?

- It makes a big difference!

- She was based on you!

It was your idea
that I fuck you this way

in the first place!

- Once!
Not always.

You're either all in with me
or you're not in at all.

- [scoffs]
You know what?

I can't keep track
of all your insanity.

Somebody needs
to invent an app.

- Oh, for God's sake,
did you take a pill?

- What?
-We're having a fight,

for fuck's sake!

You're not even discouraged!

- I did not take a pill.

- Because you don't need to,
do you?

No, you have her.
You have your little Susan.

- Who is you!

[grunts]
- [grunts]

I'm Susan to Rothstein,
not to you.

[wails]

- Why does it
make a difference?

- [whining]
Because it does!

[sobbing]

- [sighs]
[door slams]

[engine rumbling]

- Uh, the case is closed,
and according to probate,

you're the bequeathed.

- I'm not sure I want it.

- Oh, you can probably
sell it on eBay

for some obscene
amount of money.

- Operative word
being "obscene."

- No, it still ranks
as a collector.

You know, the low miles,
in pretty good shape.

[brakes squeaking]

Or we can, you know, haul it
off and have it crushed--

at your expense, of course--
but it--like I said,

it--it's worth something
to a collector.

Replace the windshield
and it's drivable.

[sinister music]

♪

Are you okay?

[music fades]

- Yeah, I'm fine.

- Where's Holly?
- She said she had to go out.

- She, uh, gave me
some chores to do.

Thought I'd earn my keepa little while I look for work.

I made you some coffee.

- Thanks, good.

- Hey, I've got
something for you.

Gotta show you something.
It's important.

Remember him?

- Stan the man.

- Yeah.

Cops found DNA in the shop
and the getaway car

and none of it
belonged to Stan.

But check this out.

ER reports from the guy
who showed up to the hospital

when the getaway car crashed
into that basin.

First and second page.

- Nah, I can't read this shit.

- Okay, it just says
that the guy at the ER's DNA

matches the DNA found in
the shop and the getaway car.

So...

I mean, the guy who did
the Rothstein job killed Stan.

- Which we already figured.

- Yes, yes, I'm not done.

The cops found DNA in
the Saubers' home last week--

I mean, saliva,
prints, everything--

and it matches
with the same guy.

- What?
- Yeah.

The killer
was in the Saubers' house,

so, I mean,
maybe Pete was involved.

Maybe they know each other.

- Who is he?

- Uh, I actually figured
you'd ask,

so I have a theory.

Check this out.

- Fans have been
gathering for days

to share memories
of a neighbor few met

but somehow everyone knew
as an old friend.

- All right...
- [sighs]

- Recognize him?

- He looks familiar.
- Yeah, as he should.

This is local coverage
of the jobs fair.

I looked through these
and found this.

- Carl Fenten.

- Mm-hmm.

- And this guy?
- Yep.

This is Fenton's yearbook.

Right there.

- Yeah, that's him.

Morris Bellamy,
I remember him now.

I met him in court
during Lou's case.

He thanked me for my service.

- Huh.

Now check out
his yearbook quotes.

- "Live fast, die young,
leave a pretty corpse."

Shout-outs: John, Jimmy,
PJ Tobin, and Squee.

- Okay, so PJ Tobin
was a stoner friend of his,

died about six years ago
from an overdose.

Fenton's nickname was "Squee."

John and Jimmy?

- Rothstein and Gold.

"Live fast, die young,
leave a pretty corpse."

That's a Jimmy Gold line.

- Yep,
and you said it yourself:

you don't believe
in coincidences.

- The cops onto this?

- Not that I know of.

They have the DNA
but they don't have a name

or any clues beyond that.

- "Senior thanks:
to "IS" for saving my life."

What the fuck is "IS"?

- Well, it could either be
a verb or initials,

and I did my research.

Guess who his lit teacher was?

- No idea.

- Okay, well,
let's just narrow it down

in the pool
of next-door neighbors

who wanted
to have sex with you.

- Ida Silver.

- Mm-hmm.

- Fuck.

- I mean, how much smaller
can our world get?

Come on.

- Morris Bellamy.
- Do you remember him?

- Uh, oh, yeah.

He--he was troubled,
he was a bit at risk.

Uh, the word was
he had been sexually abused

and then--and then later, uh,
there was rumblings

about him getting ensnared
with some local older woman--

much, much older.

This is when
he's still in high school.

- An older woman?

- Yeah.

- Wasn't you, was it?

[laughs]
Well...

"IS"...
- Yeah.

- Ida Silver, right?
- I know, it was, it was.

Yeah, it was sort of--

it was sort of
a nickname for me.

Um, a sign of respect, really,

which is kind of extraordinary

coming from a kid
who didn't show respect

for anyone or anything.

He didn't do any
of his assignments,

he was skipping classes,

he was snotty
to all the teachers,

and I--I was pretty rough
on him.

I remember I--
I tried to reach him.

I gave him a book
that I thought he...

- What?

- I gave him "The Runner."

- And what age was he
at this time?

13, 14?

- Yeah, it was--
yeah, something like that.

Of course, it, you know...
[sniffles]

My God, it wasn't
approved material,

so I--I sort of
slipped it to him on the sly,

which, I suppose, made it
even more attractive to him.

Like the forbidden fruit.

- Yeah, you had
a real teacher moment.

A lasting impression.

- [chuckles]

So...

am I to understand
that the--that the boy

I turned on to "The Runner"

ended up murdering
John Rothstein?

- Could be.

- Oh, my God.

God...
[sighs, sniffs]

- This older woman...
- [sighs]

[sniffles]

- Wasn't Alma Lane, was it,
by any chance?

Oh, no, I--I never--

I never heard who it was.

[sighs]

- I wonder.
- [sniffles, sighs]

- Okay.

When I take
the duct tape off...

it would be a mistake
for you to scream.

Do you hear me?

You see this man?

He screamed.

This is how that worked out.

- [inhales sharply]

- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah,
I can be violent.

Mm-hmm.

I can also be sick.

- [muffled whimpering]

- This little piggy
went to market,

but this little piggy
stayed home.

- [muffled sobbing]

- I show you this
not to gloat--

okay, maybe I do--but rather to impress upon you,

if you hadn't already gathered:

your life is in grave danger

should your son
not come through.

- I'm dialing him now.

- I'm gonna give you
two seconds to talk to him

and only two.

I suggest you make
the most of the time.

[phone line trills]

- You're on.
- Peter?

Please help me.
[sniffles]

Please.
- Don't you touch her.

Don't you fucking touch her.

- [breathing heavily]
- What I hear is a punk kid.

What I want to hear

is when
I get my manuscripts back.

- I'll give you one page
of the manuscripts,

but in return--

- This is not
a fucking negotiation!

- Actually, it is, okay?

We both have something
the other one wants,

which means it is
a fucking negotiation.

- It's your fucking mom,
shithead.

We're gonna
cut her fucking head off!

You can't!

- Trust me, I can.

- Okay.

♪

Let's meet,
then we can make a plan.

- [whimpering]

[breathing raggedly]

- Any police show up--

if I so much as smell
a cop car--

your mother is dead,
you fucking little shit.

- [whimpering]

- Say "please," mommy.

Say it.

- Please.

- Please, Petey, please.
- [sighs]

[phone beeps]

[sinister music]

♪

[engine revs]

[echoing screams]

[door opens]

- Holly.

- Hello.
- Hey!

You want a Hot Pocket?

- No, thanks.

There's a car parked out there.

- There is.

- Do you want to explain
how it got there?

- It's mine.
I inherited it, so...

- Could I see you
in my office, please?

- [sighs]

- What's going on?

- Should I not take it,

the police were going
to auction it off,

which means that some
awful person was gonna buy it,

turn around, sell it on eBay
for God knows how much,

profiting off the murder
of innocent people,

which is not
an acceptable result.

- Well, what do you plan
to do with it?

- I plan to drive it.
- You what?

- Brady was the evil one,
not the car.

- How's Lou going
to deal with that?

It was used
to kill people, Holly.

- Yes, I know that, but--
- But what?

- But--but it was Ollie's
most prized possession.

My Aunt Janey and my mom

both said that she got esteem
from it, even, okay?

To own a Mercedes.

Its legacy should bethat Ollie drove it, not Brady.

- The legacy of that car
is what it is!

It was a murder weapon
in a mass killing!

- Yes.
- You can't change that.

- Add to that,
Brady used the car

to destroy Olivia
in the end!

- I certainly remember that.
- He taunted her--

- I said I remember!

- I know.

- Ollie would have wanted me
to drive it.

You know, she always used to
call it "glorious," you know?

"Let me take you for a ride
in my glorious car."

I need to restore its glory.

all: ♪ Glory be to God,
the Father ♪

♪ Glory be to God, the Son

♪ Glory be to God, the Spirit

♪ Great Jehovah three in one

♪ Glory, glory

♪ Glory, glory

♪ While eternal ages run

♪ Glory be to Him
who loved us ♪

- Okay, where are they?

all: ♪ Washed us
from each spot and stain ♪

♪ Glory be to Him
who bought us ♪

♪ Made us kings with Him
to reign ♪

- You don't get them
until you release my mother.

- I will fucking kill you
right now, you little pissant.

- Kill me
and you don't get Rothstein.

- [sighs]

I don't think you getthe severity of this situation.

I'm gonna rip your mother's
fucking head right off,

then I'm gonna go
get your gimpy dad.

I'm gonna cut his balls off
and feed him to your--

- Shut the fuck up.

I shot you once,
I'll do it again.

- I swear to God--
- I said shut up.

all: ♪ Glory be to Him
who bought us ♪

♪ Made us kings with Him
to reign ♪

- You get this.

One notebook.

all: ♪ Glory, glory

- I want them all.

- Not until
my mother's released.

That'll show you
it's Jimmy Gold.

You release my mother,
you get the rest.

- That wasn't our fucking deal.

I swear to God,
your mother is dead.

- I already snapped
your picture

and sent them
to a few sources.

Hurt my mother
and the cops are all over you.

- You think I believe that?

- I snapped a few
when we were FaceTiming.

Nice close-ups,
great for facial recognition.

all: ♪ Glory, glory

This is how desperate you are
to get those manuscripts.

You're making stupid mistakes.

- I'm not in this alone,
there are other people.

This is bigger than me.
It's way bigger than you.

- So you keep saying.

Read that--
you'll know it's real--

then we'll make the swap.

all : ♪ Power dominion

♪ Thus its praise
creation brings ♪

♪ Glory, glory

♪ Glory, glory
- [sighs]

all: ♪ Glory to
the King of Kings ♪

- He just walked out?
- He's buying time.

- Why didn't you stop him?

-What was I supposed to do,kill him during choir practice?

- Time is not
on our side, Morris.

- He wants to make a deal.

It's not like
he's North Korea, okay?

But it's gotta be
a straight-up exchange,

which, if he's tipping off
the police or the FBI--

- Shh!
Let's arrange the meet.

We'll put mommy dearest
in the truck.

We'll wire up a vest
with a bomb or something--

at least pretend to.

Hang that over his head--

that if we don't make a clean
getaway after the exchange,

we detonate her just like that
bank robbery in Pennsylvania.

We can make this work, Morris,but we gotta make it work fast.

- I know nothing
about explosives.

- Doesn't have to be
a real bomb,

we just need to fool her
and him.

A threat that's real enough
to guarantee our safe passage.

- But first thing's first.

- Oh, my God.
- [laughs]

- Oh, can I read it first?
- We'll read it together.

[laughs]
I'm almost afraid.

What if he killed Jimmy
or made him gay

or a fucking Democrat or--

- He wouldn't do any of that.

- [sighs] Honest to God,
I'm suddenly terrified.

What if it stinks?
- He's John Rothstein.

Even on his bad days,
he beats everyone else.

God, oh!

- [grunts]

- Right, your job here will bejust wait outside the building.

If anybody rolls up
that looks like him--

stick that on vibrate
for me, would you?

- Don't you think you need
some backup on the inside?

- Nah, I'll be fine.

- Or maybe we should
get the police in on it.

- Yeah, maybe.

I'll know more
once I take a look.

[engine turns off]

Okay, which unit is it?

- 2A.

[suspenseful music]

♪

[lock clicks]

♪

Oh, fuck me up the ass.

With a finger.

[phone rings]

[ringing continues]
[keys tapping]

- You want me to get that?
- I do not.

We don't answer
everyone's phone calls here.

- Is it Finkelstein's call
that we're not answering now?

[ringing continues]

He could be calling for me.

I could just, like,
pick it up and--

- No, it's okay.
Thank you, though.

- Okay.

- It would be an obstruction
of justice not to tell them.

- Oh, so you quit

Harvard Law School now,
as well, did you?

- Look, you'd be funny
if it wasn't dangerous, Bill.

- Well, it's more dangerous

to tell the police
what we know now.

The law of
unintended consequences,

you ever hear of that?

- Wait, what's going on?

- We got a lead,
and a good one,

from the man
who killed Rothstein.

- If you intend
driving that car,

that's up to yourself, okay?

But I don't want it parked
in my space.

- It's not your parking space,
it's our parking space,

and I'm entitled
to park there if I want.

- It's obscene, Holly.
Can you not see that?

It's got the stink of Brady
all over it.

Fuck, what's wrong with you?

- You know,
he did give you something.

- Beg your pardon?

- I mean, no offense,

but you were kind of dying
in retirement.

"Becoming a fat alcoholic."

Those were your words.

- No, they weren't.

I never said that to you
or to anybody.

Were they Brady's words?

- I'm just saying,

he kind of brought you
back to life.

- Brady?

- Yeah.

When he taunted you, you--
you suddenly became, like...

Don Quixote in search
of an evil windmill.

He gave you purpose.

He also might have given you
a sense of family...

In some weird sort of

law of unintended consequences
kind of way.

- How so?

- Never mind.

- No, no, no,
I want to hear this.

- Okay, your relationship
with Jerome deepened,

you met Holly, even me.

All of that might have triggeredsomething inside of you,

where you said,
"I need family to survive."

Now you're a changed man.

Brady helped
affect that change.

I know that
we all hate him here,

but I'm just saying,
maybe we should be

a little bit mindful
of what he gave us.

- I don't see it that way, Lou.

- Okay, your problem is that
everything has to make sense,

and it doesn't always.

You know, it probably
doesn't make sense

that I want that car,
but it just feels right.

Not everything make sense.

- Well, what makes
the least sense to me...

and is the most horrifying
to boot...

is how she keeps
channeling Brady.

You do not
do his bidding in here.

You get me, Lou?

- That is not what I'm doing.

- Bad enough having
his fucking car in my space.

Lovely fella, really,
wasn't he?

For a mass murderer.

Skinny cunt.
He was a fucking butcher!

For fuck's sake!

Give me a fucking break!

- "Jimmy tossed the empty
bottle into the abyss,

"then held his breath
until he heard it shatter

sharp on the sidewalk below."

"Then he scanned the dark city,deep in its death throes,

"and thought about Susan.

"Her smell, her sex,

"her strength.

"She was out there,
somewhere and everywhere,

"in the city's insistent need,

"in the thrum

"of its unruly heart.

"Her love more powerful
than any he had ever known,

"the thought of it
making him shiver

"despite the August
night's heat.

"She was the first appreciable
proof of God he had ever seen,

"the only real and true beauty
he had ever known,

and he hated himself
for not being worthy of it."

[sighs]

- I knew it.

He never stopped.

- What?

- That's me he's talking about.

The man never stopped
loving me.

[weeping]
I knew it.

[sniffles]
I'm sorry.

[weeping]
- That's okay.

- [whimpers, sniffles]

- Do you want to fuck
or something?

- "Do I want to fuck
or something?"

[sobbing]
- Yeah.

- Don't be reading any more
until I get back.

[sobbing]

Marjorie, you'd better not
be eavesdropping.

- [sighs]

[knocking on door]

- [sighs]

I told you to go away!
- Yeah, and I'm not going.

I either come to youor I go straight to the police.

- Fuck.

Who is that?

- My associate.

- You are making a bad situationworse by being here, Bill.

-I'm not leaving until I get
some information.

- Oh, Jesus.

- Where's Marjorie?
- She's out.

She's getting her hair done
or something, I don't know.

- Her hair?

What's she doing,
her fucking roots?

Somebody's got her.

Tom.

- I need to have a completely

confidential
conversation with you.

- I'm not sure
I can promise you that.

- Then you need
to get the fuck out.

I'm done talking, leave.

- What if I don't?

What, you'll call the police,
will you?

All right.

Confidential,
you've got my word.

- [breathing raggedly]

They got her.

- Who?

- I don't know.

They came in here
and they fucking grabbed her.

I got a phone call.

[hisses through teeth]
Fuck.

Peter does
have the manuscripts.

[sniffles]

They said they wanted
to make an exchange--

Marjorie for the books--

but I don't know
where Peter is,

I don't know
where the books are,

I don't know where Marjorie is.

All I know
is that I believe them

when they say
they are going to kill her.

- Have you talked to Peter?
- Yeah, we've been in contact.

He's formulating
a plan right now.

- Jesus, listen,
the FBI and the police--

- No, no.

- They've got more experience
with this sort of thing--

- No, no, no,
absolutely fucking not, Bill!

They were very clear
about this!

We call the police,
they kill her!

- You need to listen to reason.

- The police can't necessarily
make good on their promises.

The people who have Marjorie,

they can.

- [sniffs]
Mmm, you have not lived

until you've tasted
Alma's stew.

Come on, come on, Marjorie,
you gotta eat up.

This little exchange
may include a rigorous walk.

That a girl, we need
to keep your strength up.

[spoon clinking]

- [sniffs]
I don't believe you.

I think you're gonna kill me.

- That isn't true, Marjorie.

I, of course, would kill you--
it's not beneath me--

but it's not my plan.

Come on...
[babbles]

That a girl.
- Mm.

- Ooh.

- Why would you let me live?
- [sighs]

- I've seen your face,

I know what you've done.

we plan
to get long out of Dodge.

We'll be far away
in a different country

with a lot of money.

Out of reach, out of touch.

- I don't get this.

You struck me as a person
with a compassionate core.

Kind, even.

[bowl clatters]

- Look...
[clears throat]

Life and people arekind of like really good books.

There are chapters, you know?

I've had many
wonderful chapters.

You just caught me
during a bad one.

- You've got a visitor.
- Excuse me?

- That private detective,
Hodges, he just showed up.

- Help! No!
- Get her in the bathroom.

- Not a fucking word.

- Come on, Morris, move!
- Stand up.

Stand the fuck up.
Come on, come with me.

- Okay, sit tight.

[keys jingling]

- [exhales heavily]

[knocking on door]

- Alma.

- Oh, my God,
as I live and breathe.

- Long time.

- I've been seeing you
on the news.

You're like a celebrity,
Mr. Mercedes and all.

Testifying
in that girl's trial.

- Mm-hmm.

You look well.
- As do you.

[gasps]
Don't tell me--

that little offer I made
35 years ago,

you're here to take me up
on it, huh?

- Not quite, no.

- [giggles]
Come in, come in.

[sighs]

[door slams]

- Not exactly
a social call, Alma.

You heard John Rothstein
was murdered.

- I don't live under a rock.

- No.

Well, we've been turning over
quite a few rocks,

truth be told,
since he was killed.

You remember this?

- Mm, one of my favorites.

Not exactly Norman Rockwell,

but it's the thought
that counts, hmm?

- "Gathering nuts
for the winter."

You hated him pretty good.

- You have no idea.

Am I a suspect?

'Cause I've always wanted
to be famous.

Come on, let me get you a beer.

It's not like I bite or
anything. I gave that up.

Come on, Bill, beer time.

- Don't you make
a fucking sound.

- You're not really here
to talk about Rothstein

and whether I killed him,
are you?

- No.

I've come to talk
about somebody else, actually.

Morris Bellamy.

- Who?

- Mm, now, that surprises me.

Word on the street has it

that you and he had
a romantic entanglement

going right back
to when he was a teenager...

- Where'd you hear that?

- And that it's been
going on some since.

No?
- [chuckles]

Somebody Tweet that?

- I don't know, I don't read
that fucking blather.

Morris loved Rothstein
from a literary standpoint.

You loved Rothstein and Morris
from a biblical standpoint.

- [laughing]

You know what I remember
about you?

You don't believe
in coincidence.

- Is he here, Bellamy?
- He is not.

- He's been seen
around here recently.

- He comes and goes.

-Know where I might find him
now?

- I don't know.

- Alma--

- Tell you what
I do know, though.

He's not here now
and you are.

Window of long-overdue
opportunity.

- Please.
- Oh, come on, Bill.

[sniffs]
May be 30-plus years,

but a woman remembers

a certain look she gets
from a man,

and I remember that look
that you gave me that night.

I could have bartered
my way out of that arrest,

couldn't I, hmm?

How much rigor
you got in you now?

- I'm here on a serious matter,Alma, okay?

This Morris character could be
involved in some serious shit.

- What, killing Rothstein?

- It's possible.
- Mm, I doubt it.

Morris is a lover.

I'd say you've seen
all you could see

without a warrant, Bill,

but, hell, go ahead,
look around.

Everything's free here.

- I don't need a warrant.
I'm not a cop anymore.

- Private citizen.

So it's not like
you're on duty or anything.

- Tempting though the offer is,I've got to be going.

Take care, Alma.
- You, too.

You get turned around there,
Bill?

- What's in the shed?
- Personal papers.

Actually, a private chapel

where I pray
and hold Bible classes.

It's my private space.
- Sounds spiritual.

Mind if I take a look?

- Sure, but you gotta take
your clothes off first.

My faith requires that
we enter the holy of holies

as we entered this world.
[smacks lips]

Maybe I'll convert it
into an art studio one day.

Or a man cave.

You could be a charter member
in Alma's man cave.

But until that time, Bill,
you've gotta strip.

Please.

- Rain check.

Let me know
if you hear from Bellamy.

- Do come back, Bill.

- Anything?
- In that fucking shed.

[door slams]

- Yeah, I did some looking
around the yard,

I didn't find anything.

- So then we give the devil
her due for now,

come back later tonight
when she's asleep.

[engine turns over]

- What did he want?
- He was asking about you.

- Excuse me?
- By name.

- What?That little shit son of yours--

- I don't think it's him.
It's nothing about her.

It was about Rothstein,
and you're in the crosshairs.

And if a private detective
has you pegged,

then so maybe have the police.

Though that one's smarter
than the cops.

- Well, how did you leave it?

- I dodged and weaved,
but Bill Hodges is like a dog

with a bone, I'm telling you,

and he was looking hard
at the shed.

We gotta set up
that fucking exchange ASAP,

get those books,
and hit the trail.

What size suicide vest are you?Do you know off-hand?

- Please--
- "Please"?

We don't give bonus points
around here for good manners.

In case you haven't noticed,

we have officially entered
crunch time.

We are not fucking around.

Get Snow White
back into the shed, come on!

- All right, come on,
you know the way.

You know the fucking way!- Keep your fucking mouth shut.

God damn it!

- The let me join you!
- No, it's too dangerous.

- God's sake, Pete.
- I said no!

I'm--I'm just barely
hanging on, here, Dad.

- That's why I should
be there with you.

- I wish you could,

but it's a good thing
that we're not together.

It gives us protection, okay?
He could get us both.

- Listen,
that private detective,

he is on to all of this.

- What?

- He has been here
twice, Peter.

Your mother wasn't here,
he was gonna go to the cops.

I--I bought us time,
but I had to come clean.

- What?

- I had to
make a decision, Pete!

He's not gonna go forward

with anything that he knows,
all right?

Not yet.

Pete, I think we need
to bring him in

on the planning
of this whole swap thing.

- No, no, no, no,
it'll blow up!

- Peter, we are in
over our heads.

- There's a desperation
to this guy, Dad.

I don't like it, okay?

I don't want to be bringing in

any private detective
or police.

I can work this out, Dad.

I can get her back.

[tense rock music]

- [sighs]
She's reading the book.

That's what's taking her
so long.

She's reading the rest
of the book without me.

Ugh, that cunt.

[sighs]

- Do you want to know
what happens?

I read all the manuscripts,
I know how it ends.

- [scoffs]
You're lying.

- They were in Peter's closet.
I've read them all.

- I looked in his closet.

- They were there
until you scared him,

and then he moved them
someplace else.

I read them.

I can tell you
how the journey ends.

It's not advertising.

But first, you have to let me
go to the bathroom.

- You wanna go
to the bathroom, go.

Nobody's stopping you.
- Please.

Just untie me.
- [laughs]

- I'm afraid my hands don't
have any circulation in them.

- I'm not fucking untying you.

- I will tell you how--
how the series ends.

You'll know before Alma, okay?

She's only got a small portion.[laughs]

[weepy laugh]

- I don't believe you.
You didn't read them.

- I did!

- Okay, you read the part...
[swallows, sighs]

What he said to Susan about
her love being more powerful

than the thrum
of his unruly heart.

Any woman who read that
would remember it.

You haven't read dick.

Her smell...
[laughs]

Her sex...
[sighs]

Shivering and shit,
even in August.

[huffs]

My fucking thrum is on fire
and it's wintertime.

[metal clanging]

Ugh.

[groans, sighs]

What the fuck?

- We need to talk
about John Rothstein.

[items shuffling]

[dark music]

♪

- Oh, my fucking God.

[door opens]

- [grunting]
- [hollers]

- [screaming]

- Shut up!

I said shut up!
- [screaming continues]

- I had to, all right?

He was so fucking
ass over tea kettle

with that little twat.

If anybody should
be screaming, it's me!

I liked Morris.
You didn't even know him!

[grunting]

You're a wimp, Marjorie,
you know that?

You need to grow
a fucking pair.

Acting like you've never seen

a grown man
hit on the head before.

- [muffled whining]

- [grunts]
- [gags]

[groans]

♪

[stammers]
How...

could...

you?

[groans]

[body thuds]

- [panting]
- [shaky breathing]

♪

[both breathing heavily]