All language subtitles for Millennium.S01E03.DVDRip.AC3.XviD-SFM.eng

Where's Jordan? Where's Jordan?

Daddy?

Daddy?

- What's the matter, honey?
- I had a bad dream.

Come on.

- Everybody has bad dreams.
- Why?

Everything's been left as we found it.

We covered the victim, but the perpetrator
covered his own faecal remains.

Hair and fibre are going to be a mess.
But we started dusting already...

Did you find a message?

On the body? Or cut into the skin?

There are those in the Group who believe
we shouldn't take the case in Portland.

- Some are unconvinced he will kill again.
- He will.

Others think we should wait,
applying the Holmes criteria

defining serial killers involving three victims
with a period between murders of 30 days.

He won't wait. He'll kill again.
Ten days, a week maybe.

With the hundreds of cases
we're asked to consult on,

and all the smaller agencies that need us,
why should the Group send you down there?

He left a message. I'm certain of it.

- There was no report of any message.
- It's there. I just haven't found it.

OK. Portland detectives called us in, but for
their crime stats they'll want to get the credit.

There's a man down there
that's worked with Portland PD. Jim Horn.

We're considering him for the Group.
He's had background in behavioural science.

His work was responsible for finding
the Highway 8 killer in San Diego.

He's a real good guy. Works out of
an office in downtown Portland.

We're sorry.
The number you have dialled is incorrect.

How could it be incorrect? It's my number.

.. a service representative, enter 1 now.

All our representatives are busy.

If you wish to hold,
your call will be answered in order.

The current wait is 45 minutes.

That's how long I've been
dealing with you, you mechanical...

Jim Horn?

Frank Black.

Welcome to Portland, Frank.

Heard great things about you
from Steve Choleski at ISU. Have a seat.

- Coffee?
- Thanks.

I don't want to come off like a jerk,
but... I go by "James" now.

OK, James.

Thanks. It's no big thing.

You profiling me? You got that look,
like you're profiling me.

No, James. Just wondering what's wrong.

Sorry.

My wife and I are going through
a separation and, uh...

I had to disconnect the fax line out
at the house, and the phone company...

Man, they can make you feel
like a worthless ass.

Sorry to hear about your wife.
I see you have a kid. Me, too.

That's my boy, TC. He just turned two.

I've never been separated. I hear it's rough.

Yeah. This work...

Makes things hard, you know.

I've been there.

Jim Penseyres sent down the stuff last night.

- I sketched a rough profile.
- Very interested.

Jim says you think there
might be a triggering stressor.

I couldn't agree more. Divorce, maybe?

He's never married, never had sex.

You get that from there being
no sexual mutilation or intercourse?

It appears that the murder created
a psychological release in the killer,

but the only physiological release
he could perform was defecation.

I read those remains as
signalling his hatred for women.

The defecation was covered.
He was embarrassed by it.

They haven't identified the victim,
but I believe he knew her.

- Why?
- The duct tape.

He objectified her, but he took care to
cover just the face, not the entire head.

He wanted as much of his obsession
visible as possible.

But he couldn't have her looking at him,
couldn't hear her fear.

That's an indication of remorse.

It's rare to have remorse for a stranger.

I'd expect him to visit the victim's graveside,
tell her how bad he feels.

I admit, I can't get a fix on why the staging
of the body in the animal shelter.

- Could be a hundred reasons.
- That will be answered by his message.

You mean the way he posed the victim?
Cutting the body in two?

He takes something from the victims,
but leaves something behind.

- Like what?
- He left a written message.

There was no message
at the crime scene or on the victim.

- We'll go find it.
- You're sure about this?

Yes, I am.

Frank, I'm going to be
right upfront about this.

I've heard a lot about you. A lot.

Don't get me wrong, I have the utmost respect
for your work, but I gotta tell you...

I'm doubtful about some of the things
I've heard about you.

That's all right, James.
I've been there, too.

The girl was Karen Anderson, 21.

A parking enforcement officer.
Just moved up from Northern California.

No boyfriend. Attractive.
Everyone says friendly.

Her uniform was found in a sanitation
transfer station in Oregon City.

Blood stains confirmed he dismembered her
while she was still wearing the uniform.

That may have been how he had prior contact
with her. Simple - she gave him a ticket.

We can go over the parking tickets she
issued, see if any violations fit the subject.

Come on, Frank! Work with me.

We've got evidence here
that is... here, in hand.

If you're so focused on looking for
some message that isn't there,

you're going to overlook
the obvious signatures.

Come on, Frank.
You got a problem with me, let's hear it.

Down this way.

Tape.

Acetate.

Hair today?

Hair today, gone tomorrow.

These messages are a big "Up yours!"
to the police.

He dared us to find it.
Thought we'd be too stupid.

The guy definitely knew
we'd search for hair and fibre.

A police freak.

Feels superior to us.
Might even be an ex-cop. Older.

The hairs are grey.

But if he's that smart, he's getting
the hairs from another individual.

Maybe this person's
connected to the two women.

Maybe that's how he had
prior contact with the victims.

I can't shake the feeling
he's had prior contact, Frank.

Something in my head,
in my subconscious is telling me...

When I look at the victims,

when I look at their faces... all I can see...

Daddy, Daddy!

TC, get out. Get out of here!

Jim, stop it. He couldn't wait all week
to see you, and now...

Dammit! You know how
I feel about him seeing those.

That's why I told him to get out.

You knew I was dropping him off.

- I said four o'clock.
- He wanted to surprise you. Look.

Don't start! Of course I want to see him.
Come here, buddy.

I'm really going to need you
to focus on this, James.

Look, this is my weekend with TC,
but I realise there are lives on the line.

Maybe if you got away from here.

Maybe a step back will help
you take a step forward.

I can feel, I can see,

when focused, when removed,
he's actually a very good asset.

A good man, too.

Why don't you tell him?

Where he's at right now, he'd never hear me.

You're different people, Frank,
at different places and times.

Just because you didn't hear me back then
doesn't mean he won't hear you now.

Hmm.

How do you like your hamburger, James?
Medium? Rare?

- James?
- Huh?

Oh. Uh, medium's fine, thanks.

- They play well together.
- Yeah.

It's great to watch them. They have no idea.

Things we see. Things we know are out there.

I hope I'm not screwing him up.

I never ever dreamed at that perfect moment

that... my time with him
would be regulated by petitions,

attorney retainers, orders of the court.

That mother, father and son
would become nothing but a case number.

That, as a father,
I risk adding nothing to his life.

I could become nothing but...

face covered in grey tape.

When I read Dostoevsky there was a passage,
something like:

"There's nothing more sad than a life
that ends and no one knows or cares. "

Hair today, gone tomorrow.

The subject is angry that his life will go
unnoticed, that he will have left nothing.

The hatred of himself
is directed toward the world,

which has held him back
because it objectified him,

reduced him, reduced us all,
to universal bar codes.

We are animals in a caged shelter,
controlled by dog-catchers.

The grey tape makes the victims
look like how he feels -

faceless, a dead letter lost at the post office.

He's killed before, when he was young.

Most likely a female prostitute.

After an early setback - a girlfriend, a job -

he sought out a woman
that wouldn't turn him away.

The solicitation increased his feeling of
nothingness, so he killed her before sex.

My guess? He was never caught.
He got away with it.

The subject has felt guilt ever since, angered
at a world that should have punished him.

The murder, however, was
the most significant event in his life.

He's returned to this place, to the event.

He wants nothing more than to be stopped.

But he will do everything in his control
to remain significant.

"You monkeys" he said, shaking his
finger at them. "Give me back my caps. "

So the monkeys are shaking their fingers
back at the pedlar, saying "Tsk, tsk, tsk!"

- Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight?
- No. You're having a sleepover.

- The monkeys will get me.
- These monkeys? No, no.

- If I have a bad dream...
- If I have a bad dream...

If you feel like you're going
to have a bad dream, you will.

But if you think you're going
to have a good dream, you will.

- Do you know all about bad dreams?
- I know enough to keep them from you.

And TC.

Say your prayers.

When I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

Yeah. Both your daddies need 'em.

.. the Lord my soul to take.

I don't know, Catherine.

Maybe it's because TC's
been taken out of my everyday life.

Or...

He's two now and
he's becoming a person, you know?

But I can't...

These murderers...

Before, they were a...

fascinating, psychological,
societal puzzle.

Most, I could even feel sympathy for
because of their horrible lives.

But now... when I walk into a crime scene,

all I see is my little boy's face
superimposed on the victim.

And...

And these killers can't be simply cases...

or psychological anomalies any more.

They're just...

monsters.

Just monsters.

- Are you going to be all right?
- Yeah.

My car's just over here.

Good night.

Help!

Help!

You OK over there?

Oh.

Yeah. It's just...

My glasses fell off when I tried to shut
the door with my arms full and I can't...

Don't worry, I'll find them. Thank you.

Thank you so much.

They should be near the door.
I didn't really feel them fly too far off.

Oh.

Here they are.

- He's feeling more confident.
- How do you know that?

He killed the woman
where he disposed of the body.

No. Security guard reported
nothing out of the ordinary.

Crime scene team found no evidence
the murder occurred here.

The blood splatter patterns are moving
away from the scene, not arriving at it.

A mobile slaughterhouse.
He would need room, to work.

- Probably a van.
- Mm-hm.

Left lens. Partial print.
My guess, it's from the victim.

We can check the prescription,
notify optometrists.

He's too smart. He'd use one of those
one-hour places outside of town.

A place where he could go unnoticed.

Mr Black?

That's it?

That son of a bitch too bored with our
progress? We're not enough of a challenge?

You show your frustration
in front of them, he'll know.

It does us no good now to get mad
about what he thinks or wants.

We can only use it to find him.

He wants a challenge. Let's give him one.

- Can't believe he didn't bite.
- Still might.

It'll be light in an hour.

He'll never do it then.
I say we give him his opportunity now.

All units, this is Charlie One.

OK. We're going to drain the weasel.
Whenever you're ready, Alpha One.

I copy.

All units, suspect approaching.

Take him.

You a patient here?

- If I'd knew you were this strict...
- What were you doing?

Marjorie was my nurse. I just wanted to pay
my respects, but my doctor wouldn't let me.

- It took me this long to sneak out.
- Take him back to his room.

- I thought it was the guy. We all did.
- What if it was, James?

Is bouncing his head off the car gonna
change all the other murders that will occur?

Come on. A guy cuts your wife and daughter
into eight pieces and you read him his rights?

He hasn't killed our wives or our families
and he's not going to.

If you make all of these personal, you'll go
insane. And that's from having been there.

- I get so far into their heads.
- You haven't got there at all.

- Don't you tell me where I am.
- You put them in your head.

I keep reliving... what it's like
to be cut in half. Or four, or eight.

This isn't about you, James.

The whole thing,
what's going on out here, it's about us -

me, you, the killer and the victim.

I can't help but take this personally.

Another person is going to die, horribly,
because I scr...

We screwed up. I...

- We did all this for nothing.
- No, we didn't.

We handed out 30 pins from
the hospital charity to be placed here.

There's 31.

We wanted one taken,
but one was left. He was here.

The flyers with the suspects
fitting our profile have been dispatched

to optometrists and eyeglass labs.

Plus, a resident four blocks from the hospital

recalled seeing an orange van driving
around the night of the memorial.

Yeah.

A saleslady from a cheapy eyeglass places
recalls one of the suspects from the flyer.

Which one did she recall?

This guy.

- You're sure?
- Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I remember. He was a total ass.

- In what way?
- Just real attitude.

He even had trouble taking a number
like everybody else.

He needed one lens replaced. The left lens?

That I don't remember. What I do remember
is that he was getting all weirded out.

- Weirded how?
- I guess his glasses got lost in the shuffle.

So I asked him for a service slip number,
and he gets all sweaty.

And his eyes got real weird.

I asked the technicians,
maybe they had seen them.

I guess they were in the tray behind me,

but all the trays are marked
with the customer's name.

And he starts going
"I have a name. I have a name. "

Pardon me, Janice.
Could you wait here a moment?

James and I will be right back.

You were right, he does have prior
contact with the victims. She's next.

This name and address are false. Paid in cash.
We should look for the orange van.

I'll devise a proactive strategy
with Portland PD.

Hang in there, James. We're close.

Given the subject's previous behaviour,

he'll attempt the abduction
in the parking lot after office hours.

He'll enter the lot from the alley,
past the dumpsters.

We got that entrance blocked off.

Are all the unmarked vehicles
at the other points of entry?

- Affirmative.
- OK.

Miss Sterling usually leaves the building
around 9.15. We've got 20 minutes.

- Are you all right, Janice?
- Yeah.

You'll be safe in here.

Detective Jenkins, Mr Horn, myself -
we'll stay in here with you.

There's 20 officers outside, hiding.
This will all be over in the next hour.

Frank. Um...

I'm not sure it's such a good idea
for me to be around.

Come here.

Why don't you blow out of here, go home?
I'll let you know how it went.

Nothing here.

Act like you forgot something.
Come back inside.

I need to get by!

Got a flat. Can you help me?

- Nothing.
- Unit Seven, anything up in the alley?

I'm stuck. I can't move.
I need a jack. Got one?

This is Unit Seven. We got a car with a flat
blocking an orange van.

What kind of car?

- Give me a make on that car.
- It's a blue Taurus.

No, I can get it.
I'll be out of your way in five minutes.

Jim, no! No!

No!

No!

Just checking in. Going back to Seattle.

Everything in the van is inadmissible.

The victims' possessions
were found at the subject's house.

Hair and fibre, DNA samples.

District attorney feels it's enough,
that he won't get away.

I wanted to work with the Group.

And I know, because of my actions,
that's over, but...

I need you to tell me...

Help me, Frank.

How do you do this?

Why do you do it?