All language subtitles for Prodigal Son S02E05us

Jess?
Jess! Is she here?

- No. You haven't found her?
- I searched the park.

All of Ainsley's favorite spots.

- Oh, my God.
- Okay, okay. It's gonna be fine.

It's not gonna be fine.

It was just a game.

They were just playing.

It's midnight.

That chime.
It's off.

Ainsley?

Oh!

Ainsley.

My love!

Why?

Malcolm couldn't find me,
so I win.

We get it.
You love this.

Solving murders
on a beautiful New York day.

- What's not to love?
- I'd love eight hours sleep.

Eh, sleep's overrated.

So says absolutely no one.

Two bodies in 24 hours,
neither of us

will be getting any sleep
for the foreseeable future.

You don't have
to sound so giddy about it.

Excuse me, Lieutenant.

Does the NYPD have any leads on
The Bridal Butcher's identity?

I can confirm that we have
no comment at this time.

Can Major Crimes confirm

that this is
the Butcher's second victim?

- Wrong side of the tape, Ains.
- Oh, so we're playing that game?

All right, let's cut.

No comment.

Except it's not a game.

Oh, lighten up.

I saw your grin
when you rolled up.

I got to go.

Hmm?

Where is everyone?

You know I like to share
these things with my friends.

JT's meeting with his union rep
and we lost Dani to vice.

It's just me and you, kid.

And Edrisa.
What do we have?

Oh, it's, uh, my own creation.

It's a macchiato
and a nonalcoholic Four Loko.

It will mess you up,

but in a good way.

You mean the body, don't you?

Yeah.

Young woman, early 20s.

- Any sexual trauma?
- No. No marks of any kind.

Even the small
birthmark at her neck

was, uh, covered with makeup.

Same as the last victim.

Our killer has a thing
for perfection.

We ran down the dress
from the first body,

no bridal shop recognized it.

Must be custom.
I'll bet this is the same.

And an access road nearby.

Killer didn't have to drag
the body far. Same as last time.

They took their time.

Posed to perfection.

This was curated.

No, designed.

So who are we looking for?

Most likely a man.

30s, maybe 40s,

with some serious
psychosexual issues.

The victims were dressed
as brides for a reason.

Maybe to appear virginal.

- Unspoiled.
- Unobtainable.

Yes. Rejection
is a powerful motivator.

So our killer
won't take no for an answer?

Gil...

we have a serial killer
on our hands.

*PRODIGAL SON*
Season 02 Episode 05

Episode Title: "Bad Manners"
Aired on: February 09, 2021

Hey.

Hey.

What was that back there?
You're stonewalling me.

- I'm doing my job.
- Okay, you're avoiding us,

And don't say it's because
you're chasing

a new serial killer.

What did Mom do this time?

It was Ainsley.

Nothing.

Come on. Give me something.

You can avoid me all you want,

but not before
you give me a lead.

The dresses.
Do you know where they're from?

We don't.

Only that the dresses
and the gloves are custom.

Gloves? Were they elbow-length?

Yeah. Why?

Those aren't brides.
Those are debutantes.

I got to go. Love you.

Ah, here she comes,

my beautiful bride.

Mr. David,

may we have the room?

Oh, please. I promise,

no stabbys.

You knew

this whole time, didn't you?

I'm sorry, you'll have to be
a little more specific.

I know a lot of things.

About Ainsley...

killing Endicott.

Malcolm told you?

What can I say? I mean,
he might have mentioned it.

Oh. Oh, you didn't know that.

Ooh!

Malcolm's gonna be
in the doghouse for a while.

- No, you created this mess.
- No, actually, I cleaned it up.

Endicott was handled.

Until you lured him back
into our lives.

Ainsley did the only thing
she could.

Frankly, you should
be more supportive.

Of murder?

Of survival.

No one should have
to survive like this,

especially not her.

Who knows what she's capable of?

Mm.

You are a cancer, Martin.

And the closer they get to you,

the more they become you.

You know that's not
how cancer works, right?

I'm taking her away.

Sweetheart,
murder isn't some... coke habit

that you can fix
with a handful of crystals

and a trip to Esalen.

There's no rehab for this.

Of course there is.

She's going cold turkey.

That's what I came to tell you.

You will never see
your daughter again.

Edrisa, have any updates for us?

Sorry.

Coffee stopped working
an hour ago.

Now I'm drinking this stuff
straight.

Both vics had the date rape drug
Rohypnol in their systems?

But that's not what killed them.

Correct.

Uh, both women
died of asphyxiation.

My hunch is that the killer
used a debreather.

- Debreather?
- Yeah, they're normally used in assisted suicide.

Form follows function.

Rohypnol to incapacitate them,

the debreather to kill them.

All so they wouldn't
leave a mark.

Um, are we sure
this ID is correct?

Well, the family identified her
a half hour ago. Wh-Why?

Look at her eyes.

Oh, wow!

Heterochromia iridum.

In English?

Uh, her eyes
are different colors.

Yeah, one is blue and the...

other one is brown.

Like Max Scherzer.

The, uh...
the Nationals pitcher.

Three-time Cy Young winner.

2019 World Series champion!

Where's JT?

Right.

Um, but in your report,
you said that she had...

Two blue eyes.

Yeah, two blue eyes.

He replaced the brown one.

This isn't about rejection
for our killer.

It's about idealization.

They had to make Allison
perfect.

And suddenly I'm wide-awake.

Licorice?

No.
No lollipops, no licorice.

What is it with you
and candy anyway?

Processed sugar creates a strong
dopamine response in the brain,

essential for both those
in pursuit of deranged murderers

and insomniacs.

Um, how was your meeting
with the union?

Great. If I make my complaint

against O'Malley official,

we both get suspended
for 20 days.

Hands up!
You heard him! Hands up!

Don't move. Don't move.

But you didn't do

- anything wrong.
- Yeah. And the...

the force is always gonna
protect itself.

Let's work.

The glass eye in the victim...

It's not medical.

They aren't meant for humans.

They're doll eyes.

Like toy dolls?

Yeah, I thought
that'd grab your attention.

I'm chasing down
local doll makers.

Hmm.

These killings are about
the illusion of perfection,

but it's childlike, juvenile.

We're looking for someone
with an arrested development

and probably
deep childhood trauma.

Turns out Allison Vinhouse
and Trina Chandler

both participated in
debutante balls in high school.

And they also both went here,

the Windsor School of Etiquette.

Windsor.

My sister went there, too.

Then you take the school.

JT and I will take a run
at the doll maker.

Dr. Whitly.

Malcolm, it's Dad!

Where you been, bud?

Thought we had a good thing
going here, you know?

Solving crimes, cracking jokes.

We were partners,
just like, uh, the old...

Starky and...

uh, Tubbs!

You're mixing your buddy cops.

Well, you know me...
I always root for the bad guy.

Now, speaking of scary people,
you really should have told me

that your mother
had found out about the...

Ainsley thing.

- What happened?
- Uh, well,

I'd rather not get into it
over the phone, but, uh...

she's got this fakakta plan
to hide Ainsley

in some posh European resort,

away from us.

But I can promise you

Ainsley's not going anywhere

when there's a serial killer
dropping bodies.

It's too good of a story.

Indeed. Uh, speaking
of The Bridal Butcher,

I have thoughts.

They're not brides.

His victims were debutantes.

Debutantes?

Ooh.
Now I have more thoughts.

You know,
when I worked the ER,

debutante season was awash
with overdoses,

uh, attempted suicides.

The pressure
those girls are put under...

Oh, it's criminal.

Don't remind me.

It was brutal for Ains.

Bullied and shunned
for your crimes.

- Maybe that's...
- What, debutante school - changed her?

All that teasing
made her capable of...

...stuff?

I don't know.

No, no, no, no, my boy.

It wasn't my arrest.

No, your sister's been like this

ever since
she was a little girl.

You know, the drive.

Those instincts.

Yeah, she's made
of tougher stuff.

Because she's your daughter?

No.

Because she's her mother's.

Friggin' creepy.

Next time
I'm taking the etiquette school.

Mr. Falvey?

Yes.

And... who might you be?

NYPD.

We found a body
in the park earlier.

This glass eye
was found on the victim.

You recognize it?

No.
I'm sorry, I don't.

What do you think, JT?

He's lying.

You're proud of
your work, Mr. Falvey.

Admit it.
It's your eye.

One of my creations

wouldn't be found on a body.

Try in a body.

Tell us about your arrest
for indecent exposure.

That was ages ago.

I was confused,

struggling with my faith.

The Bible does say
"Adam and his wife

"were both naked,

and they felt no shame."

Yeah, but Adam wasn't letting it
all hang out in a garden

next to a Mommy and Me class.

I'm also seeing about
two dozen code violations.

One phone call
and this place'll be shut down.

Please.

My business is all I have.

Who'd you make the eye for?

I'll, uh,
have to check my paperwork.

Good idea.

Hello?

What did they
even teach you here, anyway?

Proper posture.

Table manners.

How to demonstrate
respect towards others.

Hmm.
Two out of three's not bad.

You're just peeved
I beat you here.

I'm annoyed because
you're treating solving a murder

like it's a competitive sport.

We're brother and sister.

Everything
is a competitive sport.

There are two dead women,
Ainsley.

How does that make you feel?

It... It's terrible.

Why...

why would you even ask me that?

I'm sorry.
Uh, places like this

just remind me of the people who
cut us off after Dad's arrest.

Etiquette doesn't
mean anything, Ains.

All it does
is cover up the truth.

I beg to differ.

Good manners
hold society together.

Cultivation of civility

allowed European cultures

to flourish.

Well, that and a healthy dose
of colonialism.

Miss Windsor,
so lovely to see you again.

You as well, Miss Whitly.

Please allow me to introduce

- my brother, Malcolm.
- Bright.

Malcolm Bright.

I'm with the NYPD.

I'm here about the murders
of Allison Vinhouse

and Trina Chandler.

I was devastated
to learn what happened.

Since I've never
had children of my own,

I think of my students...

as family.

'Course.
Can you think of any reason

why someone
would have killed them?

One should never speak ill
of the dead, but...

I did hear whispers
about parties, drugs,

ill behavior.

Can I see your class lists,
contact numbers?

The parents who entrust
their daughters with us

expect discretion, Mr. Whitly.

Bright.
Just Bright.

You're absolutely correct.

He does need
to go get a warrant,

but I'm sure
you wouldn't object to

walking an old pupil
down memory lane?

- Oh...
- Uh, Miss Windsor,

excuse my forwardness,

but I'm offering you discretion.

The NYPD won't
give you that courtesy.

They will open every door here

and read every file you have.

But if you help me now,

I can make sure
that doesn't happen.

Mr. Bright, do follow me.

Of course.

Could you wait here?

Guests are not allowed
beyond this point.

Sorry.

I must have left her there.

I'm Rachel,
Miss Windsor's assistant.

I have the admission rolls
for you.

Aren't you a little old
for dolls?

Oh, all of the students get one.

Um, Miss Windsor believes
they help model behavior.

The dolls are silent
and perfect.

As they should be.

Do you know who makes them?

Uh, Mr. Falvey.
He's wonderful.

Go.

Gil, Trevor
Falvey - made custom dolls

for the etiquette school.
He's our link.

Copy that.
I'll call you back.

Mr. Falvey, can we see your
files on the Windsor School?

He's running.

Falvey, stop!

Oh!

It's not what you think.

Is she alive?

No.
She is not.

Thank you, Sophia. Yes, thanks.

All right.
Okay, you, too.

Okay, buh-bye.

Sophia Parker
remains insufferable.

Catching up with old friends?

Looking for leads
from my old etiquette class.

Why can't anyone in this family
run away from killers?

- Myself included.
- Mom, I'm just doing my job.

Well, I don't like it.

Seeing you sitting down here,

throwing yourself into a case

like your brother would.

Maybe we should take a break.

Run off to one of Grandma
Milton's far-flung estates.

Like a vacation?
I can't, not now.

I finally have
another big story.

One I have a connection to.

I...

Oh, um, this is, uh,

another girl
from my deb class.

She-she wants to meet.

I-I got to see this through.
I'm sorry.

That's what I'm worried about.

We searched your shop, Trevor.

We found more
human-size eyeballs.

And these. Pictures
of Miss Windsor's students.

Lots...

of pictures.

She sent them to me.

She wanted the dolls
to look like her students.

I'm not some sicko.
I'm a doll maker.

What about the sex dolls?

I make those, too.

Some guy in Osaka
wants the perfect woman,

I can make her.

That doesn't make me a creep

or a killer.

Oh...

- Bright, we're in the middle of...
- Oh, good.

You're still here.

I got to hand it to you, Trevor,
she is a work of art.

- Pygmalion worthy.
- What are you doing?

Is this the one
you tried to steal?

I wasn't trying to steal her.

"Her."
Oh, gosh, I'm sorry.

Who do I have the pleasure
of holding here?

Dolores.

Her name is Dolores.

She was my first.

Oh. Well, you never
forget your first.

Bright.

Can I talk to you
for a second?

Sure.
I'll just, uh...

Let's let him sit for a few.

See how he handles the stress.

You were watching
the interrogation,

what do you think?

He has objectophilia.

Or, more specifically,
agalmatophilia.

They got a word for everything.

Agalmatophiles
form romantic attachments

to inanimate human forms...

Sculptures, dolls.

He has a psychosexual patholog,

but the doll is his outlet.

His release.

Makes him a bad suspect.

He's not our guy, is he?

I'll go give him his head back.

You like the doll maker?

Oh!
Love the doll maker.

An exhibitionist objectophile?

Freud would be in heaven.

But he's not a killer.

What about the eyes?

Don't get lost in the eyes.

Your doll maker's a romantic.

They don't have the commitment
for serial work.

But you knew that.

You're here for Ainsley,
aren't you?

She's treating this case
like it's some sort of game.

A race to find the killer.

Violet?

Worried she's gonna

put the clues together and
figure it all out before you?

Violet.

What do you want me to do?

Should I chloroform her?

Is that it?

No, of course not.

Ugh!
I was wrong

to do that to you.

And if I haven't
apologized enough,

I'm sorry.

I could have handled
that whole mess...

a lot better.

You think?

My boy, you've won.

You're getting away with it.

This is the fun part.

It doesn't feel fun.

Well, I wonder

how it would feel for her.

If my little girl knew.

Well, there's a chance

she'd be proud of herself.

Just like I'm proud of you.

I'm Ainsley Whitly, and I've
just found the third victim

of New York City's
newest serial killer,

The Debutante Slayer.

I've called the police

and obscured
the face of the victim.

But please stay tuned

for more exclusive details
from the scene.

What in the hell were you doing?

And if you say "my job,"
I'm gonna arrest you

for obstructing
a murder investigation.

The lawyers at ADN.

They're looking forward
to your call.

And my brother
can put you in contact

with our family attorney.

Try psychiatrist.

You find a body and you shoot,
what, a promo?

What if the killer
was still there?

Well, then the video would be much more exciting.

How did you know Violet?

A few classes in college.

But we met
at Miss Windsor's school.

I got in contact with every
debutante I knew, -

Especially those with
drug problems,

and left her a message
yesterday, -

Thinking it'd go nowhere.

Then she called.

What did she tell you?

Uh, that she was scared.

That's it. She wanted to talk in person.

- Who is that?
- I'm working.

My producers want updates.

My agents want to... mm...
Use this as leverage

to up my deal with the network.

And the next ten texts
are from Mom.

Can I go now?

I want the video
from that phone

and a list of the girls
that you called, -

Or that phone is mine.

Now you have the video

and screenshots
of all of my texts.

Now, will you please
stop being sore losers

and let me go back to work?

Ainsley, you're being reckless.

Oh, my God!
Are we not gonna talk

about the crazy hypocrisy
of you lecturing me

about being reckless?

Someone needs
to catch this killer.

It might as well be me.

Is Ainsley okay?
I saw the news.

She's fine.

Is she involved?

Involved?

How?

Um, I don't know.

Uh, in no way.
I'm just...

I'm...

I'm losing my mind, worrying.

Jessica, what's going on?

Both you and Malcolm are at 11,

and I've never
seen Ainsley like that.

I know.
She's so damn willful.

Her father thinks it's...

Her father?

Jessica, you went to him?

It was stupid.

Damn right it was.

Look,

you don't need
to talk to Martin.

I'm here.

Whatever you need, I'm here.

Boss, we got to go.

Got it.

Where is Ainsley?

Network sent a car for her.

I'm too late.

I don't know.

You were right on time for me.

I'm Ainsley Whitly, and I've
just found the third victim

of New York City's newest
serial killer, -

The Debutante Slayer.

Hiya!

I've called the police...

- What are you...
- Huh?

Oh.

You know that thing where you go
on a two-day caffeine bender

just to plow through
a massive amount of corpses

and, at the end of it all, you
can no longer feel your gums?

Maybe you should call it a day.

Uh, no can dee-do.

No, not until my pulse...

drops below 100.

Put me in, coach!

Use my tachycardia
to your advantage.

Let's sniff out a perp.

Okay.

I've hit a wall.

Three victims, no leads.

Did you check,
uh, number three's phone?

Because, um,
your sister sure did.

Oh, my God.

The phone.

She unlocked it.

But so did we.

Ainsley rushed out of here
in a hurry.

She must have found something.

Wait.

It's a 736 number.

Those are old.
Like, from the '30s.

Uh, nobody picked up
when we checked it.

How do you know it's old?

Oh.
"7-3" used to be, uh, "P-E."

It stood
for "Pennsylvania Exchange"

back when they used
alphanumerics.

Hmm. Yeah.

I'm good at this.

Well, the only places
with numbers that old

are libraries, hotels...

etiquette schools.

It's only one digit off
the Windsor School main line.

It must be her private number.

Ainsley went
to the Windsor School.

Oh, wow. Like, he sets 'em up
and I just knock 'em down.

Miss Windsor fits the profile.

Her drive to perfect young women
was rejected by modern society.

Violet, Trina, Allison...

Her faux daughters...

They all rejected
her perfection.

She was making them
perfect again.

Ainsley rejected it, too.

Your sister?

Who knows what Miss Windsor
will do to her.

I have to stop her.

Can I come?

Absolutely not.

Thank you so much for agreeing

- to meet with me again, - Miss Windsor.
- Mm.

Please.
Sit down.

Tell me,

one sugar or two?

Mm.

How long has it been since
you had a proper tea service?

Oh, ages ago.

I'm more into juice cleanses
these days than tea.

But this looks delish.

...ous.

This looks delicious.
Thank you.

Miss Windsor,
can I ask you a question?

You may ask me anything.

But, first, try the tea.

Oh...

It's lovely.

Miss Windsor,

the latest victim
of The Debutante Slayer

received a phone call
from your school

just before she died.

Why did you call her?

Recently, we've had...

some financial difficulties,

which has meant...

calls... to graduates.

Fundraising.

- You're out of money?
- Out of time.

People don't care
about manners anymore.

It's a shame.

We used to value so much more.

I thought I told you to go home.

It appears
the police have returned.

Unannounced.

That's my brother.

Please don't tell him I'm here.

He wouldn't approve.

Of course.

Ladies must stick together.

Mm.

She's like that all the time,
isn't she?

- Yes. Very.
- Mm.

Listen, no one wants this
getting political or...

God forbid...
In the papers.

So if we can
get our stories straight,

I think everyone'll be happy.

You want my guy to lie.

I'm no racist.

Detective Tarmel was running
into an active crime scene.

It was dark.

Could have been anyone.

- Hands up!
- Yo, I got my badge!

Any boy?

Nobody heard that.

I'm not going down for this.

Guys, I am
just trying to mediate this.

Tarmel,

if you feel the need
to bring an official complaint...

Which is your right...

We can do that.

But these things can get messy.

I don't see how it ends well
for either of you.

Bright's going to the school.

He's gonna need backup.

- We're done here.
- We are not done here.

I need an answer.

Are you filing?

No.

You're scared.

That's why you're
such a miserable cop.

'Cause that hatred you feel...

It's poison.

But I'm not gonna
let it poison my life, too.

And now we're done.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

Miss Windsor, is my sister here?

You should have called first.

Miss Whitly is not here.
Good night.

You're lying!

- What gives you the right to...
- Etiquette.

You turned your back on me,
a guest.

Manners dictate a proper exit.

You can show me the door firmly,
not dismissively.

You'd only risk incivility

to hide another break
in decorum.

Lying.

I'm not lying!

A raised voice.

And you used a contraction,
which is shocking given,

you know, you.

I bet you have some stories.

Come on.
You've got the tea,

I've got the time.

Why don't you tell me a few?

I'd rather show you.

Who are you to judge me?

I am perfectly within my right
to do whatever...

The last victim received a call
from your private line.

I never use that number.

- What is it?
- Oh...

Who are we looking for,
Miss Windsor?

Sarah, is the killer here?

Your sister's
up in the tea room. Go.

Ainsley?!

Ainsley!

I'm so excited to show you this.

I'm saving the school.

Calling alumni,
asking for donations.

Only the finest people.

Ainsley?

Oh.

Ainsley.

You look tired.

What did you put in my tea?

Oh, just something
to help you sleep.

I won't let the
banks close the school.

Take all of this
from Miss Windsor.

From us.

Don't worry.
You won't feel a thing.

You should know...

I have a gun!

Good evening, ladies.

One's deportment
tells us everything

we need to know about a woman.

Her family.

Her intelligence.

Her morals.

Are they...

a good person?

One mistake...

...can destroy everything.

But everybody makes mistakes.

Not you.

You have to be perfect.

You're not supposed
to be in here.

No man has ever been in here.

I apologize.

I'm here for Ainsley.

Get-get out!

The victim's names.

You crossed them out.

They betrayed everything
that this school stood for.

Whose room is this, Rachel?

The bed, the dolls.

Who lives here?

But no one would take her.

What was I supposed to do?

Please.

Help me.

Hide her.

Keep her secret.

No one can know the truth.

You wicked, wicked girl!

Miss Windsor's your mother.

There are s... some things

that people do not need to know.

I'm not sure I agree.

What if hiding the truth

hurts people?

Turns a person
into something they are not?

Oh, Sarah...

how could you?

The wrong sort of man,

letting him do that to you.

No, she gave me a home.

She loved me.

But never like the other girls.

So you directed your rage
towards Violet,

Trina, Allison.

These women that
rejected the love

that you craved so much.

And Ainsley.

She was going
to expose the truth.

My mother

called me her secret angel.

No one can ever know the truth.

Rachel, the gun

is not like the debreather.

It's brutal, violent.

D-Don't worry. I'm gonna
make your sister beautiful.

Wait.

Don't do this.

There has to be another way.

Ainsley!

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

I'm sorry, Rachel,

but they can never know.

- I smell gas.
- What?

We need to get out of here.
Now!

Come on.
Come on!

What is she doing?

Nothing good.

That was crazy.

And that's coming from someone

who knows a little something
about crazy.

- This city never fails to surprise me.
- Yeah.

And neither do you.

Tell me, how were you
not drugged?

Ah.
New nail polish.

It changes color
when your drink's been roofied.

I figured Rachel would
get a little suspicious

if I didn't at least
act a little drowsy, so...

I guess this means
I kind of won, huh?

Like, I solved the case first?

What?
Why are you looking at me

like I'm The Debutante Slayer?

- It's not that.
- Exactly.

I'm the kick-ass reporter
who stopped the killer.

With your help, of course.

You put yourself in danger.

But I had to figure it out.

Not who did it, but...

Why she did it.

Yeah.
I get that.

My father was a serial killer
also, Malcolm.

I was young, but

I have a right
to be messed up, too.

The Debutante Slayer nabbed.

Bravo, Malcolm!

And Ainsley has an exclusive.

I'm not ashamed to admit it:
I'm a proud papa.

This is a disaster.

Oh.
Enjoy the win, Jess.

You got to learn how

to suck the marrow out of life.

Mm.
You were right.

I can't take her away.
She's too unstable.

Maybe even more so than Malcolm,
if that's possible.

- Oh, it's entirely...
- Don't say another word.

Just for a second,
be the man that I married

all those years ago,
not this monster.

Just for a second, be him.

We're going
to lose them, Martin.

They'll be arrested,
devoured by the media,

imprisoned, or worse.

What do you need from me?

A partner.

Help me save them.

Of course.

And we will.

Even these chains can't stop me.

Nope.

There's nothing I won't do

to save my family.

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And FORD.
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Greg, move your head.