All language subtitles for Elementary 6x18 - The Visions of Norman P. Horowitz.KILLERS.en-en

? Better stop dreaming
of the quiet life ?

? 'Cause it's the one
we'll never know ?

? And quit running
for that runaway bus ?

? 'Cause those rosy days
are few ?

? And stop apologizing ?

? For the things
you've never done ?

? 'Cause time is short
and life is... ?

You're interrupting
my preparations.

Too bad. The auditions
are about to start.

You gotta get down here
before these symphony people

find out I can't play the tuba.

Is our quarry there yet?

I'm looking at Mr. Marinko
as we speak.

Does he have
the stolen instrument with him?

There's a big lock on his case.

It's pretty weird
if he's just got any old flute.

But if we're right
and he stole one

that belonged to the greatest
flautist of all time...

Oh, please.
Jean Pierre Rampal was, at best,

the third greatest flautist
to ever purse his lips.

Whatever.

I'm telling you,
we've got maybe an hour

to steal this thing back
for our client

before Marinko takes it home
to Slovenia.

Fine. I'll hurry.

Hello.

Uh, I'm David Horowitz.

I'm sorry.

I'm looking for Sherlock Holmes,
the detective.

I also apologize.

I don't have time
to talk to you at the moment.

Perhaps you could make
an appointment.

No, Mr. Holmes, please.

I just need a minute.

I think it might
be a matter

of life and death.

Uh, a couple of months ago,

my brother Norman
passed away.

Um, they said it
was an overdose.

You suspect foul play?

No, no.
My brother was schizophrenic.

He took a lot of pills.

Not all of them
were prescribed by doctors.

So many barbiturates
in his system,

we think he probably
just mixed up his meds.

No, I'm here because
of something Norman wrote

before he died.

Matter of life and death,
you said.

Uh, about a year ago,
I-I helped him get a job.

I thought it would
be good for him.

He started writing obituaries
for a small local paper.

He really liked it.

In fact, he liked it so much,
he wrote a bunch of obituaries

for people who hadn't died yet.

Well, that's normal practice

in the newspaper business,
isn't it?

So they're ready
when the news breaks.

Sure, they do it
for politicians, celebrities,

but Norman did hundreds
of write-ups

for, like, random citizens.

People he didn't know.

And all these obits
included

how and when they died.

The paper sent them all back.

Well, you did say
he was schizophrenic.

Yeah.

Norman was crazy.

But not as crazy as this.

In the time
since he died,

Norman's predictions
have gone three for three.

He's been right
about everything: the dates...

...the causes of death.

While I'm sure there's a mundane
explanation for all of this,

I confess to not seeing it yet.

That being said,

you've come to the right place.

I'll take your case.

Oh.

Uh, no, I'm sorry.

I didn't come to hire you.

I came to warn you.

My brother predicted
your death, too.

If he's right again,

you're gonna be killed
three days from now.

? Elementary 6x18 ?
The Visions of Norman P. Horowitz

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

You must be Dr. Watson.

Please come in.
I'm David Horowitz.

Uh, is it okay
if I leave this here?

Finally.
There you are.

There you are.
You never showed.

I had to grab this on my own.

Two ladies with bassoons
tried to take my head off.

I'm sorry. There's no time
for you to regale us, Watson.

According to Mr. Horowitz's
late brother, I am to be

gunned down in the
street on Friday.

I'm so sorry
about all of this.

There's no need for
apologies, Mrs. Horowitz.

I'm not yet resigned
to the fate

that your
brother-in-law foresaw.

I'm sorry.
I'm a little behind.

David's brother was
an obituary writer.

He was a schizophrenic,

and he made all sorts
of uncanny predictions

about the deaths of strangers,
including mine.

Tell me more about Norman.

He was always brilliant.

Ever since we were kids.

He wrote a sci-fi novel
in college.

There were publishers
interested.

But then...

he started hearing voices.

Luz was really great.

Insisted we take him in.

Helped him turn the basement
into a little apartment.

So you had intimate knowledge
of his comings and goings.

Did he get out much?

Oh, sure. He was
pretty outgoing

for someone with
his disease.

Why do you ask?

I'm hoping for a
small social circle.

Most likely, that's
our pool of suspects.

You agree with David.

You think someone is
trying to make Norman

look like some
sort of prophet.

It's the only possibility.

Your brother-in-law
could not see the future.

Someone is killing the people
whose deaths he predicted.

When I found those last week,

the first two deaths
had already happened.

I figured maybe it was
just a crazy coincidence.

But then, when this woman jumped
off a building yesterday,

just the way he
said she would,

I thought I should find

the next person he
said was gonna die.

I only wish I'd
warned her, too.

You did the right thing
calling us.

I think there's something
you should see.

Sorry for the mess.

We just started
going through it all.

Norman's room was always
as cluttered as his mind.

Looks like your brother
subscribed to every

science and technology
journal out there.

That was his thing.

He was always reading,
coming up with

weird theories
to explain his disease.

Well, that's fairly typical.

In the 1950s,
many schizophrenics

thought the Soviets
were controlling their mind

via radio waves.

In the '90s,
it was popular to blame aliens

because the search
for extraterrestrial life

had become a popular subject.

Yeah.

For Norman, it was all
explained by Simulation Theory.

I could be wrong,
but I-I think

that's what this
is all about.

I've heard about that.

God is a computer programmer
or something?

None of us is real.
None of this is real.

We're all just strings
of ones and zeros

on the hard drive
of some superior intelligence.

He would talk about
how we went from Pong

to 3-D video games
in just 40 years.

If the trend holds, he'd say,
it's only a matter of time

before we can't tell
the difference

between reality
and virtual reality.

Norman thought most
of us were just

background characters
in a video game.

"Most of us"?

Well, not every character
in a video game

is the same, right?

Some are just extras,
they're fillers,

but some have powers.

Norman thought
he was special,

like all these prophets
before him.

Nostradamus, Rasputin,

Norman Horowitz.

Yeah, they were all

programmed differently
than people like you and me.

They could see flashes
of the future.

I told him it was crazy,
but, you know,

not an effective
argument with him.

The whole thing is absurd.

Well, in
my experience,

the more absurd a belief,
the more dangerous

its adherents tend to be.

Norman would go
to these, um...

Oh. Simulation Symposiums.

He met other people who liked
to think about this stuff.

He talked to them online,
went to meet-ups.

We were happy
he had friends.

He was excited his theories
about prophets and schizophrenia

were catching on
with some of them.

Perhaps one of them killed
three innocent people

to stir up interest
in their theory.

I couldn't tell you who.

Norman knew we thought
it was all nonsense.

He never introduced us
to his buddies.

This is weird.

Looks like your brother
kept a copy

of correspondence
with one of our old clients.

Apparently another fan
of Simulation Theory.

Would that be a certain
billionaire that we saved

from a robotic
hellhound?

Oh, you two look great.

Thanks for seeing us,
Mr. Baskerville.

Oh, please,
call me Henry.

I'm still alive
because of you guys.

So, to what do I
owe the pleasure?

Multiple homicides.

I know you're
a busy man.

You've got patents to poach
and a tech empire to run.

So I'll be direct.

What can you tell us
about your relationship

with a man
named Norman Horowitz?

This is someone I know?

We found letters
he wrote you.

And you responded to one,
thanking him for his kind words

about a talk you gave.

Oh, yeah. That guy.

He cornered me at an event
that we sponsor.

To be honest, I think
he might be a little nuts.

Well, he was schizophrenic.
He passed away.

Before he died,

he foretold a number
of untimely deaths,

and his predictions
keep coming true.

Norman was obsessed

with Simulation Theory.

He thought it explained
psychic phenomena.

We think somebody's
killing people,

carrying out a hoax,
to prove that he was right.

We think that the killer

also believes
in Simulation Theory,

and since you're so plugged
into that world,

we think you can understand
why we'd ask for your help.

Well, actually,
I don't think I do.

I mean, Simulation Theory
isn't just

some fringe thing
for fanatics and cranks.

It's probably
the most logical

explanation for existence
ever devised.

There's Nobel winners
who believe in this.

And at least one murderer.

We think we're looking
for someone

that Norman shared
his predictions with,

and that person
is now violently committed

to changing
the fundamental paradigm

through which existence
is understood.

What do you mean?

Many people have been murdered
in God's name,

but this wouldn't be

the first time that an atheist

has killed to undermine
religious faith.

Our killer is a zealot,

but just not the kind
we're used to.

Well, if you're right,
their plot's

gonna backfire
big-time.

Simulation Theory will take
a hit if they get exposed.

If they get exposed.

I imagine they plan to succeed.

And their chances
will certainly improve

if the next name on the list

gets crossed off,
'cause it's mine.

He wrote your obituary, too?

Did you know him?
No.

He may have gotten my name
from the phone book.

But it's more likely
that he came across my name

when he was reading up on you.

There was a
lot of press

about the work we did for you.

Look, obviously,
I want to be helpful.

And a lot of crazy people

go to these Simulation
Symposiums, unfortunately.

Would it help if I gave you
a list of their names?

Thanks, Greg.

This is kind of
our no-fly list.

People who got a
little too aggressive

trying to sell me their
ideas over the years,

an ex or two who engaged
in some light stalking.

It's pretty much anyone
and everyone

that my security is
supposed to watch out for.

Including the strange people
you met at the Symposiums.

Mm-hmm.

Are those
individuals clearly marked?

Yeah, I hate to say,
there's quite a few,

but you'll see
who's who in the notes.

Is there anything
else I can do?

No, this is great.
Thanks.

Uh, before you go,
can I ask you one question?

Do you know for sure

that those three people
were murdered?

The alternative is that

Norman Horowitz
could see the future.

Yeah, it is.

Will you let me know
what you find?

So, if you have a moment,

there's a plan
I'd like to discuss.

Actually, I'm a
little ahead of you.

I think you
should lie low.

Stay here and go over the list
that Baskerville gave us.

I looped Marcus in.

He and I are gonna look
into one of these deaths.

I think, if we solve one of
them, we'll solve them all.

That's a reasonable
assumption

and an acceptable
division of labor,

but it's not what I meant.

We need to talk about
what happens after I die.

"The Last Will and Testament
of Sherlock Holmes"?

According to Mr. Horowitz,
in three days' time,

I am to be riddled with bullets
by an unknown assailant

in an unnamed part
of the city.

While I doubt
that will happen,

reading it did remind me
that you should have a copy

of the appropriate paperwork
to ensure a smooth probate.

You didn't write
all this up today.

No, I wrote it several years ago

when we formalized
our partnership.

I just didn't give you a copy.

Am I reading this right?

You left me everything?

You're surprised?

Uh...

I guess I'm touched.

There are some directives
in the back

that you should review.

Instructions on what to do
with your cerebellum?

Mmm. Also my bees.

They will need a proper home.

Uh, it says here that I'm
supposed to sell the brownstone

if I can't pay the taxes

on your foreign equities.

This is a very valuable home.

What kind of taxes
are we talking about?

When I came of age,
my father bequeathed me

some stocks
which are traded on the Nikkei.

The holdings were quite
substantial then.

I suspect they still are.

You suspect? Okay,
I don't mean to be crass,

but if you are murdered,
how many reasons

will the police have
to suspect me?

Feel free to check the balance
on my brokerage account.

The log-in should be
in the appendix.

As for the threats
that Baskerville identified,

I suppose I should prioritize
the most recent incidents.

Um, I think there's a problem.

Did you type
everything correctly?

Yeah. There's your name.

This is definitely
your account.

Then I've been robbed.

How offensive.

You don't seem that surprised.

No. I have an idea who did this.

Oh, it's Marcus.
He's ready to meet up.

I should go.

Did you decide
which murder to solve?

Christina Dawson.
She's the woman

who supposedly jumped
off her own roof.

It's the most violent
and the most recent.

I should have
offered you something.

Do you need
a drink or...

No, no. We appreciate you
taking the time to talk to us.

It's no problem.

I was just...

planning Christina's funeral.

The cops who came out yesterday,

they put down that your wife
didn't leave a note.

No. Believe me,
I've been looking for one.

Something to explain this.

It makes no sense.

It sounds like
you have doubts

about what happened.

I don't know. I...

I never thought
she would hurt herself.

But that ledge
up there on the roof, it's tall,

and I don't know why she'd go
up there in the first place.

I can't see how this
was an accident.

Well, the file here
says you were out of town

on a business trip.

Can you think of anyone

Christina had plans to see
the night she died?

Why?

Do you think that...

Did those other cops
miss something?

Maybe not, but we want
to take another look.

There's a coincidence

we can't really explain.

A few months ago,
a disturbed man

wrote some obituaries,

predicting some people
would die on certain days.

He's not a suspect.

He died a couple months ago.

His name was Norman Horowitz.

Did you or your wife
happen to know him?

No, I...

I-I don't think so.

Are you saying he knew
Christina was gonna die?

He predicted
that she would

take her own life
on the day that she did.

It's possible
that someone else

is making those
predictions come true.

I don't understand.

Do you think she was pushed?

We don't know
what to think yet.

We're just trying to get
to the bottom of it.

Would it be possible for you
to take us to the roof

so we can take a look around?

These are the keys,

but, uh, I'm sorry.

I can't go up there.

Not ever again.

The file says she went
over the side right over there.

We should watch
where we're walking.

We're leaving tracks.

It's kind of hard not to.
There's soot everywhere.

We should get CSU up here
to take pictures.

Yeah, we're a day
late on that.

Looks like they
did a square dance

all over the crime scene.

Assuming this is
a crime scene.

Well, MLI and
first responders

obviously
did not think so.

Do we know what kind
of shoes she was wearing?

Uh, she was dressed
for a night out.

Had on, like, wedges,
I guess you'd call them.

Okay, so...

these are hers.

And then one of these
other sets of prints

has gotta be our killer's.

I'll find out
who worked the scene yesterday,

ask them what shoes
they were wearing

so we can eliminate them.

Actually, that might
not be necessary.

Check out that lounge
area over there.

Looks like a community space,
not just one person's patio.

The building looks new.

I mean, they might have
security cameras up there.

If they do, one of them

might have caught
the murder on tape.

At the top here,

this is the edge
she went over?

Yeah. This is the angle
from the building next door.

Whatever happened
should be on here.

Any luck, we'll
get a good look

at the person's face who
wanted the world to think

that Norman Horowitz
was clairvoyant.

Whoever it is,
I doubt they'll be

a match for anyone on
Baskerville's list of suspects.

You didn't like
any of them?

None seemed capable
of serial murder.

Serial onanism,
on the other hand...

There.

There she is.

I don't see anyone
up there with her. You?

Give it a second.

If she knew the killer,
then he might have

told her to meet him
on the roof.

She really jumped.

Okay, if no one else
is gonna say it, I will.

Norman Horowitz
could see the future.

You didn't sleep.

I'm scheduled to be
gunned down tomorrow.

I thought solving this case

would be a better use
of my time.

And it would have been,
had I managed to do so.

Still no idea how to explain
Christina Dawson jumping?

My favorite theory
involves a sonic cannon.

The killer could have
purloined one

from the DARPA warehouse
in New Jersey,

and with certain
modifications...

Okay, let's stop
right there.

If a sonic cannon is
on your short list,

then I think it'd just
be easier to admit

that we're living in
a computer simulation

and that Norman Horowitz
could see the future.

I confess, it's
not yet clear

how to apply Occam's razor
to this case.

Neither of
the other two deaths

that Norman predicted
have offered

any helpful handholds.
I looked.

So nothing on Kamal Mehta,

the guy who supposedly died
of bone cancer?

In a hospice facility
with no security cameras.

Obviously,
there wasn't an autopsy.

What about Patrick Chen,
car crash guy?

How many ways
might one orchestrate

a single-vehicle car crash?

The car was scrapped,
so we'll never know.

Mr. Horowitz, we were just
discussing your case.

I'm sorry to call so early.

I just... I need to know--

did you talk to a reporter
about my brother?

No, of course not. Why?

Because I've got six news vans
parked in front of my house.

Everyone wants to know
about Norman.

Friends say
the troubled obituary writer

claimed the visions came to him

because of how
he was programmed.

They say Horowitz himself
grappled

for an understanding
of his gift

and thought something
called Simulation Theory

might hold the key.

It's remarkable--
every television journalist

applies an identical patina
of smarm, no matter the story.

I'll give this woman one thing--
she's got great sources.

Check it out.

They published a bunch of obits

that Norman Horowitz wrote
so that viewers

can check if they're
next on the list.

It's a Channel 10
exclusive.

There must not be
a single moral human

at that television station.

Surely they must suspect
that they're promoting a killer

and promulgating his beliefs.

Yeah, and getting
a zillion clicks.

I don't recognize half
the names on this list.

That's because you've never
seen them before.

Neither of us has.

David didn't
provide them,

and those obituaries

were not in Norman's room.

Then he must have
handed some of them

to a friend
before he died.

"Friend" and "coconspirator"

are interchangeable
in this case, I think.

You look pleased.

Well, I'm mostly disgusted.

But there's
every chance

that whoever leaked
this information is our killer.

Ms. Garrisi.

Just the person
I came to see.

Uh, Sherlock Holmes.

I'm executive producer,
BBC World News America.

A pleasure.

How can I help you?

Uh, could we
speak in private?

Thank you.

Thank you so much.

Can I first just say
how much I love your show?

And I admire your work.

That's why I'm here.

I saw the piece
that you did

on the prophet character,
Norman Horowitz.

Oh, that's great.

We're proud of that one.

You should be. Incredible get.

How did you come by it?

I mean, who sent you
all those obituaries?

You know I can't
reveal a source.

Even to your new employer?

We're always looking
for fresh talent.

You seem like you're ready for
a move up to the big leagues.

I've just got to know,

how did you break that story?

You're not from the BBC.
I'm not?

I've been working in this
dump for eight years,

and I can't even get
on the anchor desk.

The BBC is about nine
rungs up the ladder.

You're either trying
to sleep with me or...

I work with the NYPD.

You're in a position
to aid our investigation.

By scrapping the Fourth
Amendment and burning my source?

No, thanks.
I have to get back to work.

I'll make you a real offer.

You must suspect
the truth.

Someone's killing people
in order to make

Horowitz's predictions
come true.

He wanted an audience,

and you gave him one.

I thought you were gonna
make me an offer,

not try to
guilt-trip me.

Tell me who sent you
the obituaries,

and I'll be your next source.

We're gonna find
this person--

a serial killer, mind you--
and when we do,

that story can either go to you,

or it can go
to your competition.

Sherlock says this reporter

got the tip from an
anonymous caller.

Blocked number?

Burner. Guy disguised
his voice, too.

Told her where to find
the obits online.

Didn't give a name.

So, all of these obituaries
Mr. Horowitz wrote,

they were already floating
around on the Internet?

More like they were buried
in a private chat room.

RealityIsnt.net.

"Dot net"?

Haven't heard that
in a few years.

It's not a real hangout
for the cool kids.

I registered an account
so I could take a look.

There's 40 members,
mostly anonymous.

They're Simulation
Theory believers

who like to speculate about
whether the universe is real.

Couple days ago,
a new user joined--

"WokeBaeBae."

First and only post
they ever made

was to upload all
of Norman Horowitz's

predictions
about who was gonna die.

They didn't get
any response.

Nobody paid any attention
until Channel 10 got the tip.

Sounds like whoever
posted this stuff

decided to up the ante

and make sure
that the news spread.

Any chatter on the site
about who did this?

Nobody knows.

They're all guessing,
pointing fingers.

Who runs the site?

They gotta have the IP addresses
of all the users.

I'm checking the
URL registry,

trying to I.D.
the board's moderator,

"Commander Deez."

That guy is on the top
of my list.

He's made 15,000
posts ranting about

Simulation Theory.

I'm wondering if he got tired

of preaching
to his echo chamber.

Maybe he decided
to take his message

to a wider audience.

Watson?

Yeah, I'm here.

We've talked about this.

You know I loathe
orange highlighters.

So do I.
Everyone does.

It's extra motivation
to solve this

so we can pull it all down

before you're shot to
death by some lunatic.

So, you said Marcus
was gonna hunt down

the message board moderator.

I thought we'd get
there faster

by searching the Internet

for other sites
with accounts

with the same
username.

Turns out there are hundreds
of WokeBaeBaes out there,

all posting up a storm.

"The best lack all conviction,

while the worst are full
of passionate intensity."

And Yeats never even
saw the Internet.

I know it's a slog,
but maybe we find our killer

because he always uses
the same handle and semantics.

I mean, could be
that one of these

other BaeBaes
is our guy

and some review he wrote
about a corndog stand

will give him away.

Hello?
It's him.

Mr. Holmes, would you like me

to secure the premises
before we deliver?

No. Deliver what?

Not real smart,
you ask me.

Keeping all this
in a private home.

I hope you know
what you're doing.

Sign here.

Is that gold in
these boxes?

Be back in a sec

with the rest.

There's more?

There's a lot more.

Well, I found the money
that was stolen from me.

Well, that much I figured.

I never did trust
my father's estate attorney.

He's not the kind of man
who can be trusted.

Which, ironically,
is a job requirement

when representing Morland
Holmes's legal interests.

So, your father's lawyer

embezzled everything
in your trust?

He claims he didn't,

although he did confess
to moving everything

into vice stocks
without my permission.

My inheritance
was supporting

all kinds of immoral
corporate slime.

Naturally, it grew
substantially,

though I suspect he was
skimming off most of the gains.

So you called him on it,
and then he was like,

"Gee, I'm sorry, I'll
just send you some gold"?

He evinced a great affinity
for his lower extremities

when I suggested
they might be at risk.

He promised I would
be made whole within 12 hours.

I doubted he would
be able to move

such a large amount
of cash so quickly,

but I see he was
well motivated.

Oh.

Got a lot of
gold there, huh?

Henry. How unexpected.

Uh, please.

Oh.

Yeah, sorry to, uh,
intrude. I just...

I had an update.
Oh, great.

Yeah, some guy called me
a couple hours ago.

Really weird. Like,
changed his voice to sound

like, you know, Darth Vader
or something, and he told me

to put on Channel 10

'cause they had a report.

We saw it. Did he call
your cell phone?

Uh, yeah, he did.

Um, that's his number
on the top right there.

It's the same caller who leaked
the story to the reporter.

No doubt he's hoping
you'll help boost his message,

drum up more interest
in Norman Horowitz

amongst Simulation Theorists.

I do hope you
won't oblige.

Wait a minute.

Is that Christina Dawson,

the woman who died
the other night?

She's alone,
isn't she?

Sorry. You should
not have seen that.

Yeah, okay,
but she did jump, didn't she?

Norman Horowitz saw the future.
No, he did not.

There will be a
logical explanation.

The realm of what is possible
is not infinite.

Oh, okay, well,
I agree with you there,

but do you think
that you're arguing against

Simulation Theory or for it?

It's Marcus. He's got
the name of the owner

of that message board--
Terry Weaver.

Wait, I know that name.

That was on the list
that I gave you, I'm sure.

He was also on a second list.

Terry Weaver is one
of the subjects

of Norman Horowitz's
obituaries.

Mr. Weaver is to be abducted

and tortured to death
in about three weeks time.

I think the NYPD is gonna want
to talk to him before then.

Mr. Weaver, open up!

We know you're home.
We saw the curtains move.

Might have to come
back with a warrant.

Come on! We just
want to talk!

We have to take the door-- now.

Damn it.

Who's got a knife?

Don't kick.

Hey, hey, hurry up!

We gotta cut him down.

What's going on, man?

What was that about?
I'm gonna die.

Sure, if you
hang yourself.

I was just trying to take
the easy way out, okay?

20 more seconds,
it would have worked.

If you hadn't come in here...

Hey, hey, if you're
asking me to apologize...

No, I'm... I'm not.

We're both just
playing our roles.

It's all part
of the grand design.

What are you talking about?

I shouldn't have bothered.

Norman knew.

Norman knew everything.

Today wasn't my day to die.

It hurts to talk.

Why won't you all
leave me alone?

Because I feel little sympathy
for you, Mr. Weaver.

More suspicion.

Didn't you tell them
what happened?

We know you tried
to hang yourself.

What we don't know is
whether you did it

because you feared
Norman's prediction

about you being tortured
would come true

or because you
heard the police

banging on your door and
you knew it was over.

What was over?

The hoax
you're perpetrating.

I think you and Norman
hatched a plan.

Between his
passing and yours,

you would leave a string
of inexplicable deaths,

all in accordance
with his prophecies.

Great way to recruit
for your cause, right?

Draw more folks to
Simulation Theory?

That's crazy.

I agree.

But "crazy" seems to be
your whole purview.

You have written
endless screeds online

against religion,
social structure,

against latex paint.

Would it be worth it
to kill a few people

if it would make a few
million question their faith?

Of course not.

I'm a pacifist.

I don't even play violent
video games, because...

well, that's... that's exactly

what I'm afraid
they're doing

to us.

Who?

Whoever is running
this simulation

we're all in.

You and I, we're just

entertainment to them.

My favorite video game is golf.

I play it all the time.

My friends and I,
we stream our sessions.

If you think the three people
who died were killed,

I'll bet there's video out there
that'll alibi me

for at least one
of their deaths.

Let's say you're
telling the truth.

Keep going.

Tell us who did it.

You own the site where
the obituaries were uploaded.

It should be a simple matter
to see who posted them.

I tried, okay?
The account was new.

WokeBaeBae? They used a VPN
to mask their IP.

I swear, I don't know
any more about it than you.

Well, you know more Simulation
Theorists than we do,

so tell us--

which one of them do you
think is capable of this?

None of them.

They're my friends.

But look, if...

if Norman did set this up,

maybe it was with his editor.

At the newspaper
where he worked?

No. I asked.

He said it was a friend.
He wouldn't tell me who.

All I know is Norman
was working on his masterpiece.

A big book
of predictions.

He called it Visions.

He would talk about it,
but he wouldn't

let anyone read it.

One time, though,
he let me sneak a peek at it

just for a second.

It was handwritten
on black paper in white ink.

It looked awesome.

But he wouldn't let
anyone read it.

He said his editor wanted him
to keep it all hush-hush.

This guy was helping him
polish it

and then get it published.

Norman said the guy didn't want

anyone seeing it
till they were ready.

I don't know,
maybe all this is happening now

because they finally were ready.

Guess I'll check
the video golf alibi,

but do we really think
that guy's a killer?

I suspect he's not,

but that book he mentioned
is intriguing.

Yeah, that mystery editor
sounds exactly like

the kind of paranoid wack job
we're looking for.

Assuming he's real
and not just

a voice in Norman's
head, that is.

David and his wife
might have some idea

if he was working with someone.
I'll go see them.

You should go home
with a police escort.

- What?
- She's right.

Nobody's saying
Norman really

was programmed to
see the future,

but until we find out

whoever's killing
people on his list,

today's a bad day for you
to be on the street.

Fine.
It'll give me a chance

to attend to that pile of gold
we left in the kitchen.

I'm still not
seeing anything

that looks like
a manuscript.

Me, neither.

I promise
I'll stop asking,

but are you sure you
can trust this Terry person?

I keep thinking,
if Norman wrote a book,

he would have told us.

Maybe, maybe not.

I should have
thought of that.

Norman was always
telling us

to shred our bills.

He worried about identity theft.

Black paper, white ink.

Looks like he
worried about people

reading his book, too.

- I'm sorry.
- No, no, no.

It's okay. I mean, it might not

look like much,
but it could give us

an idea
who he was working with.

20 minutes
I've been waiting.

It's impossible to get
anyone on the phone

at the Federal Reserve.

I don't know why converting
bullion to usable currency

has to be so difficult.

You know, I think
Rumpelstiltskin

used to say the
same thing.

Mock me all you want.

I'm doing this
for your golden years.

I thought I got it a
lot sooner than that.

You're due on a
slab in the morgue

in the next three hours

if Norman Horowitz
was right.

Well, heaven forbid
I draw my last breath

listening to Muzak.

I think this is gonna
make you feel better.

Did Norman list
his murderous editor

in the acknowledgements?
No.

This is a page from Chapter One.

Or at least it used to be.

The left side is jagged.

I think he ripped
out the page

because the Chicago Cubs
did not repeat.

In fact, none of the predictions
on this page came true.

Well, that's great.

But it doesn't get us
any closer to identifying

his murderous,
book-editing accomplice.

Marcus.

Hey, thought you and Joan
would want to know,

somebody just pulled
a fire alarm

at Grand Central Station.

Caused a panic.
Everybody ran out of there.

And you thought we'd want
to know this because?

Guy who did it,
his name's Greg Haden.

He says his boss
put him up to it.

He works for your buddy,
Henry Baskerville.

My lawyers don't want me
to talk to you,

but, you know, I feel you
deserve an explanation.

Trust that sensation, Henry.

We absolutely deserve to know
what you've been up to.

Did they tell you
about Greg Haden?

Your head of security

sent Grand Central
Station into a panic.

He's in lockup
right now.

No, I know, I know.
I'm working on it.

I mean, they should be
throwing him a parade.

He nixed a terrorist attack.

Or maybe just
postponed it.

We don't really know.

We have to wait and see if

the terrorists want
to try again.

- You lost me.
- Well, I sent him over there.

He pulled the alarm.

He sent people running
so they wouldn't

be a bunch of
sitting ducks

for psychos with assault rifles.

To which psychos
are you referring?

Well, the book
doesn't really say.

Here.

That's Norman Horowitz's
book, Visions.

Yeah.

You've heard of it?

Henry, were you helping
Norman with this?

Were you editing
this book for him?

Oh, no, no,
I just got this.

Yeah, no, it's kind of
a crazy story.

I am, uh... I'm
trying to find

a publisher
just to recoup my costs,

but I mostly bought this
as a public service.

You purchased it today?

$4 million.
I mean, I think I had to.

Honestly,
I think, uh,

Norman's brother
was overwhelmed

with the responsibility
of having the future

laid out in front of him.

Can you change it?
Should you change it?

He was thinking of

burning this,
which...

David Horowitz sold that to you?

Yeah.

Captain, you need to send
a tactical unit

to David Horowitz's home
immediately.

Sometimes when you leave
in a hurry,

you forget stuff.

Well, that
ought to slow them down.

About time we
caught a break.

We were late.

David and his
wife were gone

by the time
we got here.

Closets are empty.

Took most of
the family photos

off the wall, too.

I don't think they're
planning on coming back.

How'd you figure
these guys out?

I didn't.
In fact, I helped them

sell their load
of nonsense.

I don't know about that.

Didn't you just prove
Norman Horowitz

was no visionary
by living out the day?

This was never about
tricking the public.

The whole show was for
an audience of one man--

Henry Baskerville.

David sold him a load

of magic beans
with the help of

three murders and two
unwitting detectives.

What do you mean?

Henry dropped our names
in interviews a few years ago.

When David read about us,
he knew

how he'd sell
his brother's book.

It was
the whole reason

he came to us
in the first place.

He knew that we would go
straight to Baskerville

and prime the pump for him.

We were played for fools

by a craven killer.

That's not a happy face.

Talked to TSA,
New Jersey State Police,

Homeland Security,
everyone I could think of.

Nothing.

It's been 48 hours.

If the Horowitzes
were gonna pop up

on the grid, I tend to think
they would have by now.

Every agency I talked to
is going to the wall.

They know these two are persons
of interest in three homicides.

Maybe we can add a fourth.

No way to know
whether Norman himself

got bumped off
to get all this rolling.

I don't know how much that'll
turn up the heat on the search,

but I'll give it a shot.

I really thought
we caught a break

when they forgot
their passports.

I guess $4 million
and a four-hour head start

was enough to get them
out of Dodge.

Anything from Sherlock or Joan?

They got nothing.

She said they'll be here
tomorrow,

ready to get back on the horse.

Good.

Bet he'll be in a fun mood.

Yeah.

It was the orange highlighter.

It's always bad luck.

It was sloth and stupidity

and weakness
and lack of imagination.

You're really still
blaming yourself?

I point the finger
at guilty people all the time.

No reason to stop today.

David Horowitz could have gotten

Baskerville's attention
with or without you.

We lent his brother's prophecies

an air of intrigue,
credibility even.

Do you really think that if we
hadn't piqued Henry's interest,

he would have written
a huge check

for a book
of incoherent ramblings?

They might still turn up.

No. They're gone.

We lost.

Where did this one come from?
I've not seen this one.

Oh, David and Luz took most
of their family photos

when they ran, so
Marcus had the guys

grabbing every picture
that was left.

For BOLOs,
things like that.

I took a copy of
everything home,

just in case they turned up
and we had to build a case.

Norman Horowitz
was no visionary.

He didn't have a clue
about the future.

But you, Watson,
you're very prescient.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say can
and will be used

against you in court.

You have the right
to an attorney.

If you can't afford one,
one will be appointed to you.

They said you told them
where to find us.

How did you know?

How did you know
where we were?

It came to me
in a vision.

All right.

That was a cute
line back there,

but you gotta tell me--

how the hell did you know to
search the hold of that boat?

Actually, it really did
come to me in a flash.

It was a picture
that David left behind

of him and his brother
standing

in front of a borrachero tree.

Beautiful plant
with trumpet-shaped flowers.

Now, the borrachero
only grows

in a narrow band
in Colombia and Venezuela.

It's highly illegal
everywhere else

because its seeds are used
to make scopolamine.

Hideous drug.

I read about this.

They call it
Devil's Breath, right?

Mmm. Blown into
its victim's face

or sprinkled
in their drink,

it is harder to trace

and more powerful
than Rohypnol.

Victims are rendered highly
susceptible to suggestion.

That's how he did it.

Mmm. Now, the victims
display few outward signs,

but their central cortex
is basically hijacked.

In essence, they lose
their free will.

You can convince them
to do anything.

Even jump off
a bloody building.

Now, the presence
of the borrachero

also suggested something else.

An answer to
the question of why

they decided to leave
without their passports.

How so?

The tree is native
to Colombia

and highly illegal
in the States.

Its presence
in a Flushing backyard

led me to question
its origin.

Luz, the wife--
she's from Colombia.

That's where I started.

Took a closer look at her.

Turns out her brother
is a crooked import-exporter.

That's his boat.

It's due to leave for Bogot�
in two days' time.

They were going to wait it out,
and then just float away.

You don't need a passport
to be a stowaway.

They had $4 million
to craft a new life in Bogot�,

so why not start
with new identities?

I guess they'll get a chance
to do that anyway.

Everybody gets
a cool nickname in prison.

My last will and
testament, revised.

This one's a lot lighter.

My estate.

You'll be inheriting
a lot less of it.

You'll still get the house,
of course, and my brain.

Mmm. There's always that.

Hope you're not offended.

It's your money. You can do
what you want with it.

Well, that's just it, you see.

I never wanted any part of it.

Everything my father had
seemed ill-gotten,

dirty,
so I turned my back on it.

But then, yesterday,

seeing all that gold,

I realized how untenable
that position is.

It would just sit
in an account,

waiting to be transferred
to you when I died,

and then again sitting there
waiting for you to die.

? Here we sit now ?

Gave it all away.

? Watch the sinking sun... ?

To who?

Charities.

I borrowed
quite liberally

from your holiday
giving list.

I'm proud of you.

I think you'll be pleased

with a new venture we're
funding for the NYPD.

Gun buy-back programs
have reduced

the number of
firearms fatalities

everywhere they've
been attempted.

I thought it fitting to make
that donation in your name.

We're buying
a few thousand guns?

With any luck,
enough New Yorkers

will decide to sell back
their weapons

that we'll be a little
less busy in years to come.

Perhaps you'll be able
to relax in your dotage.

There's your inheritance,
Watson.

? Oh, there's so much more
that we're going to find ?

? We will talk about ?

? All our good times ?

? And oh,
there's so much more... ?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man