Original subtitles

- I'm gonna grab coffee. You want some? - I had some on the plane.

Excuse me. May I?

Students are welcome to everything.

- Cold season. - Sorry, what?

- I was just saying it's cold season. - Oh.

Bill.

- How are you? Welcome. - Thank you.

How's your family?

Since when do you care about any of that?

I'm adopting a facade of caring.

- You want to dive in? - Yeah.

Here he is.

Dr. Wendy Carr, my partner Holden Ford.

Dr. Carr.

Agent Ford. I've read a lot about you.

- About me? - Your notes.

Uh, thank you.

Okay, um, let's go to my office.

I'm glad this worked out.

When you sent me your notes from the Kemper meetings,

I was in a real rut with my new book.

- What's your book about? - It's about white-collar criminals,

men not so different to your Edmund Kemper.

How do you think the men you study are similar to Edmund Kemper?

Well, first of all, they're all psychopaths.

I study captains of industry:

IBM, MGM, Ford, Exxon, you name it.

And sure, these men all have wives, kids, dogs, goldfish,

but not because they stopped being psychopaths,

but because they just had different leanings.

But you think they have the same underlying personality traits?

Well, Kemper shows a total lack of remorse,

a lack of inner emotional structure,

no ability to reflect on the experience of others.

- You saw this in my notes? - It would've been clearer

if you'd recorded and transcribed your interviews verbatim,

but yeah.

Although your project is obviously in the nascent stages,

it already feels like a clear successor to The Mask of Sanity,

which, as you know, is quite a compliment.

Repeat that? The Mask of...

So you're saying you don't think this,

us interviewing these killers, is crazy?

Just the opposite.

I mean, crazy in the way that anyone with a truly new idea is crazy.

- But no. - Wow, okay.

That's a relief.

That hasn't really been the feedback we've gotten so far.

Actually, this is the only feedback we've gotten so far.

Well, these men are just sitting here, locked up.

And we're too afraid of the morality of it

to see the far-reaching value of their insights.

Far-reaching in law enforcement?

Into behavioral science, early detection, criminology, you name it.

Oh, yes, yes. This is what I've been saying the whole time.

Oh, have you?

You need to put this on a more formal footing.

It's gonna take a lot of time and energy

to expand it into a larger project with a specific questionnaire.

Their family histories,

what their thoughts were on why they did it,

when they were aroused during the killings, that sort of thing.

Then contrast, compare, and publish.

Publish?

Well, you can't just circulate your findings within the FBI.

- I mean, maybe even turn it into a book. - A book?

Whoa. We appreciate the vote of confidence,

but we weren't allowed to send you those notes.

- We can't publicize what we're doing. - Why not?

Our department head gave us weekends only

and an office in the basement.

We still have students, we have Road School full-time.

- We can't just drop everything... - Road School?

We travel around the country and teach FBI techniques to cops.

- Oh. - We're seeing Benjamin Miller

in Bridgewater this afternoon.

Road School is what gives us the freedom

to go out and interview these guys.

We can go bit by bit.

Kemper and Miller and build out from there.

Make a study in our free time, like you said.

I didn't realize that this was so informal.

We could make it formal. We can do that easily. And then a book.

The successor to The Mask of...

I guess I just wanted to get another set of eyes,

see if you thought this was valuable from an academic standpoint.

Have you shown your Kemper notes to your department head?

No.

Teaching police departments, can someone else do that?

- Anyone can, it's really not that hard. - That is not true,

and it's beside the point.

Shepard doesn't even want us to talk about this.

You really think he's going to say yes to a full-time academic study?

Never mind a book?

You think people would be interested

in this outside of law enforcement?

I mean, imagine,

like truly imagine what it takes to bludgeon someone to death.

The lust for control,

the feeling of arousal,

the decision to rape the severed head of your victim,

to humiliate her corpse.

How could you possibly get that from an ordinary police report?

You know why it took me nearly a decade to publish my book?

Because narcissists don't go to the doctor.

Psychopaths are convinced that there is nothing wrong with them.

So these men are virtually impossible to study.

Yet you have found a way to study them

in near perfect laboratory conditions.

That's what make this so exciting and potentially so far-reaching.

It's not that I disagree. I've spent enough time with Holden

that I know what it means when he gets that crazy look.

I'm afraid it's just not feasible within the bureaucracy of the FBI.

We've got weekends. We've got the evenings after Road School,

an hour or so before Road School. We don't have to tell Shepard.

Interviewing 40 men across the States is a full-time job.

And if you want this to be a legitimate academic study,

then you're looking at four, maybe five years.

- And compiling, analyzing the data. - Right.

Well...

It's a shame.

We have an interview with Miller in an hour and it's a bit of a drive.

You know, this is really important work.

If your boss won't let you do it,

then you should talk to someone who has the freedom and resources to...

We'll stick with it for now.

It'll be slow going, but we're not ready to give up yet.

Of course not.

But it's good to get some encouragement, even if our hands are tied.

Thank you.

It's a pleasure.

- What if... - Don't.

- I'm just saying we could... - Holden.

Look, I'm frustrated too.

You know, they shoot the birds in the yard

because they might be smuggling in drugs.

Actually, I don't know if that's true. A girlfriend told me once.

- You date a lot of ex-cons? - No.

Actually, Debbie's the first girl

I've really dated-dated since high school.

- Dated-dated. - Yeah.

My wife's the first woman that I've married-married.

I thought they said 3:00. What are we waiting for?

You'd be less fidgety if you smoked cigarettes.

I should have brought a tape recorder.

Bureau Agents Tench and Ford?

Gentlemen. I'm Dr. Cale. We spoke earlier on the phone.

Thanks for doing this, Doctor. We realize it's somewhat unorthodox.

Unfortunately, Miller says he won't talk to you.

Now, we told him in advance and he agreed,

but there's really nothing we can do now.

- He should be in a better mood tomorrow. - Tomorrow?

Well, he gets like this sometimes.

Just needs a cool-off period before he can interact with people.

We have to bring him food into his cell because he won't come out.

We're headed out tonight. We can't come in tomorrow.

I'm sorry. Will you be back to Boston another time?

Perhaps.

Thanks for your time, Doctor. We appreciate it.

Of course.

Well, that's the last time we give them advanced notice.

Holden?

Ever feel like you're on the cusp of something,

and it keeps spinning out in your head?

- Where'd you get that ironing board? - Your closet.

I just can't stop thinking about this project.

Dr. Carr said it could have far-reaching consequences.

Why are you up? Did you smoke my pot?

I can't stop thinking about this project. The idea is so exciting.

Okay.

Just don't wake me up when you come back to bed.

Rissell's an hour or so away,

so we don't have to do Road School to get to him.

There's, uh... Vaughn Greenwood.

- The Skid Row Slasher? - Yeah, he's in California.

Along with Herbert Mullin.

The Cincinnati Strangler...

- What's his name? - Posteal Laskey Jr.

- I assume he's in Cincinnati? - Uh...

Yeah.

I like teaching the Midwest cops. Hospitable guys.

There's always Richard Speck in Illinois.

- Great, we can do a Midwest sweep. - Gerard John Schaefer.

He killed at least 30, they think. That was in Florida, though.

I can't say no to a Florida golf course.

Bill Tench.

- Hey, Bill. It's Roy Carver. - Hey, Roy. What can I do for you?

We need to talk. There's been another attack.

This time resulting in a fatality.

- Got it. - Can I get you guys back out here?

Okay. Let me get back to you.

- What's up? - Carver.

Been another one.

Same age as Rosemary Gonzales, only this time she's dead.

Bill, my God! We're vindicated.

What's the matter with you? An old lady was just murdered.

We can talk to Kemper again.

Did she have a dog? Please tell me there's a dog.

A bigger dog. Slit from ear to ear.

Amen.

Not only is this exactly what we predicted,

but he's getting a taste for it, there will be more.

A sequence killer.

A sequence killer?

What we're calling it when they kill three or more.

Is this a new classification? Need to get a steno to put it in writing.

You bet. I'll talk to Marge.

This is what you were talking about with the Kemper thing?

We briefed them with a description.

We need to make sure they bring him in.

- It's what we predicted. - Thank you, Holden. I've been listening.

- We have to make this right. - I agree. You do now.

What are you waiting for? You got a plane to catch.

Yes, sir.

Name was Laura Conway.

Living literally half a mile away, practically up the street.

Same thing exactly, same time of night

that Rosemary Gonzales was attacked,

about 10:30 or 11:00.

What about the dog?

A dog like that must've put up a fight.

Your unsub will have bite marks.

The dog's fucking lasagna.

We rousted a bunch of kids,

had an 18-year-old from the neighborhood we liked,

but he had an alibi.

- What was it? - He's a fry cook.

Clocked in till midnight, his coworkers vouch for him.

You spoke to his boss?

Yeah, one of these new burger joints. Big corporate set up.

Like McDonald's?

- Actually, I don't remember. - We might have to rethink.

Look at that dog.

Someone had a good fucking grip on it, damn near eviscerated.

Now this woman wasn't as frail as Mrs. Gonzales.

Whoever did this wasn't easily scared off.

- Older. - And determined.

I don't understand the sexual assault part.

- Why just groping? Why not rape her? - Because he didn't want to.

He just wanted to dominate and humiliate her.

- That's one sick son of a bitch. - Supposing he's 35, 40.

Supposing these women are his mom's age...

- It's a mom thing. - Wait, 40? Did I just hear you correctly?

- This is not a kid. - I've been rounding up teenagers.

This time wasn't as frenzied. It's not a teenager.

Sacramento DA reamed my ass for hassling busboys,

and you've changed your mind?

It's not a one-off. This isn't some random freak-out.

- This guy is getting confident. - At least late 20s.

Physically mature. Emotionally immature. Socially undeveloped.

- Possibly still lives at home. - Narcotics, maybe.

That's why he beat her this badly, didn't know when to stop.

- You think? - Why not?

Not if he lives at home. Maybe he's married.

- Or separated. - Separated?

Guys in unhappy marriages have hair triggers.

They lash out. Especially when it comes to women.

- I wouldn't know anything about that. - Lucky you.

You guys still think he's white? Not Latino? Black?

I think blacks, Latinos might be too respectful of an elderly woman.

- My bet is poor white trash. - Listen, we did talk to some older guys.

And this one right here is pretty interesting.

Just came walking up off the street.

"Hey, what happened? Did anybody see?" He'd been drinking.

One of these guys who likes talking to cops, you know.

We should talk to him.

Sure.

Mom.

Good morning.

Do you remember me?

Yeah, I remember you.

Mom!

Ma'am, I'm Detective Roy Carver.

These are my colleagues, Bill Tench and Holden Ford.

- Hello. - What do you want?

It's Dwight, right?

- What do you want with him? - These gentlemen are with the FBI.

Well, now what has he done?

Who the hell have you brought into my home?

May we come in?

FBI knocking at my door.

I might as well be dead for all he cares.

Just kill me now because that is what you're doing.

And it is a slow death.

He's my only son. I might as well walk up to the freeway,

stick my head under a truck and save myself the misery.

We'd just like to ask Dwight a few questions.

Are these yours, Dwight?

You'd think he'd be out of my hair by now. Move the fuck on, but no.

- You sleep on the couch? - When he's not too drunk to get up there.

Maybe we can talk outside, Dwight. Have a smoke.

Take him.

Just give me a fucking moment to breathe.

Cigarette?

Nice lady.

Real maternal.

You have a lot of friends, Dwight?

Do you?

I saw a dog leash in the house, but I don't see a dog around here.

You got a girlfriend?

Must be tough bringing a girl home,

with your old lady breathing down your neck.

- No. - No?

It's not hard?

I don't have a girlfriend.

Good-looking guy like you? I don't believe you.

You trying to suck me off?

Put it this way, you never had a girlfriend?

One time.

What happened?

She got pregnant.

My mom decided we were too young to get married, told her parents.

She ratted you out.

What happened to the kid?

- She got a scrape. - Scrape?

Abortion.

- How old were you? - Twenty.

- How old was she? - Twenty.

That doesn't seem too young to me. Did you love her?

I don't know. What kind of fucking question is that?

I'm curious. Humor me.

Well, "I don't know," is the answer.

Do you think she loved you?

- You okay there, Dwight? - What?

Looks like you've been going at your arm pretty good.

You get in a scrap?

- No. - Let me see your arm.

How'd you get those scratches?

I get drunk. I don't know.

I've never seen alcohol give a guy scratches.

I bump into things, I guess.

Like what?

I got them from a piece of wood.

- It's fine, I'm fine. - Let me look at that again, Dwight.

I don't have a dog.

- She's the one with the dog, not me. - Your mom?

Dwight.

Why don't you tell us right now how you got those scratches

so you don't lie to an FBI agent, okay?

I got them from a piece of wood.

- Is it just you and her in there? - And Jesse.

Who's Jesse?

Some guy.

- Not a big smoker? - I smoke.

Doesn't it get cramped in there, the three of you all together?

- I guess. - Is that new? Jesse staying with you?

A few weeks.

They just met or whatever.

- I don't know. - That room's close by.

Is that kinda weird, hearing your mom and her boyfriend?

- No. - That would drive me crazy.

She sounds like she's hard to please.

- Does he do what she wants? - She doesn't know what she wants.

No?

Who just meets a guy, then she moves him right in, you know?

- Kind of fucking weird. - You ever talk to her about it?

What?

She made you get an abortion with your girl.

Do you get a say in her romantic life?

I mean, he's living right next to you.

Do you get a say in hearing them fuck?

I think that would piss me off,

if my mom told me what to do all the time.

Get an abortion, get her this, get her that.

Yeah. You let your mom treat you like that?

- Don't you stick up for yourself? - I stick up for myself.

- Didn't hear you doing that. - Didn't hear him say anything.

I stand my ground. I'm no pussy.

I'm not saying you're a pussy. Why do you stand there and take it?

- You don't know what you're talking about. - You ever cuss her out?

- I give as good as I get. - What does that mean?

- You ever been in a fight? - Maybe.

- But not with Mom, right? Mom's different. - You only have one mom.

Never laid a finger on her. Didn't raise a hand, of course not.

Raise a hand to your mom, it all goes to shit, right?

- You ever lost control? - Uh-uh.

- Not with her, leastways. - "Not with her"?

Makes sense, you need to let off steam, show her who's boss.

You'd never hurt your old lady...

You'd never hurt her because she loves you.

Florin residents can rest easier tonight.

Sacramento Police have arrested 30-year-old Dwight Taylor

in connection with a recent pair of sadistic assaults.

Police say Taylor, himself a resident of the sleepy suburb,

beat Rosemary Gonzales, 74, into a coma,

and stabbed to death Laura Conway, 64.

The victims lived less than a mile apart.

In a disturbing twist,

after viciously attacking his elderly victims...

All right, all right, all right.

Listen, everybody in this room remembers when they were a little kid,

when they figured out they wanted to be a cop.

I knew I wanted to be a detective in the third grade

when I read A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Well, this guy right here?

- He's the modern-day Sherlock Holmes. - Absolutely!

And that makes you Dr. Watson.

Thank you.

No shit.

Either that or you guys are psychic.

Hey, don't laugh. There's a lot of psychics in California

- and they all want to be cops. - Yeah!

All the cops want to be feds, all the feds want to be...

I don't know what.

Oh! He's gonna make a speech. Inform us, oh, wise one.

Speech!

- Thank you. - Speech!

I just wanted to say thank you for having this get-together.

And Roy, thank you for acknowledging

what my partner Bill and I are doing.

And for embracing that, if we all work together,

we can venture into the blackest night

and shine a light on the darkness.

I'm talking about real darkness.

And thanks for the beer.

We were happy to help.

Congratulations, guys.

Good work.

If only you could shine a light on the darkness,

you could illuminate my keys.

Very, very funny.

Dynamite!

Okay. You got us.

Good job.

Yeah, I wanted to hear how you're doing. That's all.

His teacher?

I'm sorry to hear that.

No, I don't think we'll be back in time.

So...

Okay. I just wanted to hear your voice.

Give him a kiss from Dad.

Love you too.

I'm sorry, Ed,

do you mean that violence in the movies drove you to kill those women?

No.

My point is, in reality, it doesn't work the way you expect.

When you stab somebody, they're supposed to fall dead.

They go, "Oh... "

- And they fall dead, right? - Right.

In reality, when you stab somebody, they lose blood pressure

and they leak to death very slowly.

So I was reluctant, I didn't enjoy it.

Did you get that on tape?

Yeah.

You know, it all really goes back

to my perceived inability to communicate socially, sexually.

I was scared to death of failing in male-female relationships,

even sitting down to talk to a young lady.

I wanted to communicate.

Ironically enough, that's why I began picking people up.

I pick a girl up

and I'm going a little further each time.

It's a daring kind of a thing.

Like, first, there wasn't a gun.

Then I'm driving along,

we go to a vulnerable place where there aren't people watching,

but I say, "No, I can't."

So you picked up women but didn't kill them?

But then, a gun is in the car,

and this craving,

this awful raging, eating feeling is inside me.

I would've loved to have just raped them,

but not having any experience at all,

I could feel it consuming my insides, this fantastic passion.

Fantastic passion?

- It's a good phrase, no? - Then what happens?

You know, I'm thinking of writing my own book.

I've been trying to get a typewriter. Maybe help me with that?

I'm sure we could pull some strings.

Then it builds, the feeling?

At some point, you begin to...

- enjoy the thrill. - Look...

when you slit a person's throat,

you need to cut it from ear to ear

in order to sever the windpipe and the jugular

so that they bleed and suffocate at the same time.

Otherwise, they'll just be in a great deal of pain.

That's how I learnt the term "ear to ear,"

literally, what that meant.

People think it's just an expression.

It's not, it's an instruction.

You don't want to. You have to.

So there's no pleasure, Ed?

Sure there is.

I just wanted the exaltation over the party.

In other words, winning over death.

They were dead and I was alive. That was the pleasure.

I was the hunter, they were my victims.

So how did you feel after your first kills?

I liked Mary the best.

I was lukewarm on Anita.

What was wrong with her?

Oh, nothing in particular.

It was more that Mary was...

I was really quite struck by her personality and her looks,

and there was just almost a reverence there.

- Reverence? - Sure.

Sometimes, afterward, I visited there to be near her

because I loved her and wanted her.

At the murder site?

I've never been much to look at myself,

but I've always gone after the pretty girls.

I bet you're the same.

Sure.

You probably can't imagine this,

but since I was locked up from age 15 to 21

for the murder of my grandparents,

I was very much out of touch with women my own age.

When I got back on the street, it was like being on a strange planet.

I had been living with people older than I was for so long,

I was like an old fogy.

That must have been jarring.

You know, when I confessed to the police,

they drove me through California

and we stopped by a diner for some food.

Some attractive young ladies walked by the car.

I vomited.

Right there and then, on the police car, in front of all the cops.

Quite violently.

That was just how I reacted to women.

I had no other way.

Let me ask you something.

Ever talk with anyone about this?

About your inclinations?

Your mom... maybe?

Obviously, not the way you're talking to us.

If I could get a word in edgewise,

everything would have been different.

From the moment I woke up in the morning,

she was demeaning and belittling.

And she knew all of my buttons

because she put them there.

I was her toy all my life,

right up until the moment I cut off her head with a hunting knife.

Ed...

why did you do what you did...

with her head?

Why does anyone?

You know, that night I walked up to her bed.

She's laying there reading a paperback,

as many thousands of nights before.

She says, "Oh, I suppose you're gonna want to wait up

all night and talk now."

Can you believe that?

"Wait up all night talking."

Shit.

And I knew I was gonna kill her...

you know?

I was honest with myself for the first time.

Because I'm not a lizard,

I'm not from under a rock, I came out of her vagina.

I came out of my mother.

Is it true that you put part of her into the garbage disposal?

Her vocal cords.

Why?

Because I couldn't shut her up.

She wanted to destroy me with words, literally.

So I shut her up for good.

And now, everyone knows it was because of what she did to me,

because of the way she treated her son.

Pizza!

You guys.

Okay. So you get out of the car...

- I just walk into the apartment building. - Anyone around?

So, I'm home,

walking up the stairs to our apartment

with a freshly severed head

draining about a pint of blood into a duffel bag.

You just got it under your arm? Just like that?

- Take another slice. - Thank you.

Then comes this picture postcard,

groovy, happy young couple on the stairs.

- They walk right past me. - Your two worlds are colliding...

My murderous fantasy life and this.

Pretty girl. Pretty name. Kim or something.

Going out on a date with her boyfriend.

And it could just as easily be Kim's head in that bag.

- You're playing God. - Exactly.

And I realized I've never been on a date in my entire life, ever.

And I got in the door and I said to Mom,

"I've never been on a date with a girl, Mom."

- And what did she say? - "Thank God."

- Can you believe that? - What a bitch.

That's when I started burying the heads in the backyard.

- Sure. - Right underneath Mom's bedroom window.

Their faces looking right up at her window while she was at home.

Right under her nose, man. I couldn't help myself.

What the fuck?

I know it's silly, but Mom always liked people to look up to her.

Whoa.

Ugh!

I still smell like Kemper.

Or maybe it's just CMF.

It did smell pretty bad, like a locker room.

Gonna make me lose my appetite.

So...

you like your mom?

Sorry. Not funny.

Yeah. I liked my mom.

But she's not around anymore.

You like your wife?

- Yes, I do. - That's good.

I've known her all my life. I'm not sure what I'd do without her.

- How about that girlfriend? - Yeah.

She's great. Smart.

I think she actually likes me.

Sounds like we got it made.

It feels good, doesn't it?

To fly home having got the bad guy, just like in the movies.

Yeah. It feels good that Dwight's off the street.

But Kemper has a way of tempering that.

He makes you sick to your stomach, doesn't he?

Yes.

More than Dwight?

There's nothing behind Kemper's eyes.

It's like standing near a black hole.

- Right. - And he thinks we're his friends.

Well, he thinks you're his friend.

Which makes you a pretty great FBI agent.

I've been thinking about our conversation with Dr. Carr.

You have?

We're good at this shit,

even if it turns my stomach.

If we're gonna take a backseat to everything new,

everything interesting...

Yeah.

If she really thinks the idea is that good,

that it has that much potential to change people's lives...

- Yeah? - ... maybe we should invite her down.

Just for a day, to strategize.

I think that's a fantastic idea.

At least we could compile what we have so far

and create a plan so if we want to talk to Shepard...

So we can be prepared.

It's a long shot.

He hates you already.

He's beginning to hate you, too.

Right.

So why half-ass it?

Dwight would have kept doing it, just like Kemper,

until he finally made his way to the source.

It's kind of prosaic that it's always the mother.

It was the mother, but in a very different way.

More...

love.

If you can even call it that.

Was she hot?

- Who? - His mom?

Ugh...

Guys in my high school thought my mom was hot

and it always really disgusted me.

But then she went through chemo

and nobody made jokes about her anymore

- and it kind of made me sad. - I didn't know your mom had cancer.

That's why I'm always asking you to grab my boobs when we're fucking.

- Make you check for cancerous lumps. - Oh, is that why?

I can't let these guys rub off on me.

- The way they view sex. - And women.

Thanks for coming.

I needed to see you.

And now that I'm all clean...

If going down on me while I'm filing my nails

is your idea of being kinky...

I'm kinky.

I'm very kinky.

I could impale you with this nail file.

Then I could be a part of your case study.

You would be a very compelling interviewee.

Hey, Kenneth, can I ask you something?

Oh, sure. What's on your mind?

I've, uh, done a bit of thinking about

some of the things that we're teaching.

In particular, the list of deviant terminology.

The cuss words?

Right. Well, I was thinking more the...

- descriptors of the acts. - Uh...

You know, fellatio, cunnilingus...

Okay, what exactly is the issue?

Well, that's just it, Ken. I don't have an issue.

I really don't know that they are deviant.

Anal violation?

Well, no, not that one.

- Have you talked to Bill about this? - Oh, sure.

Bill agrees with me.

And you think we should alter the curriculum?

Just... take a look at the list.

- Think about it, okay? - Mm-hmm. Hmm.

- Fuckhead? - You can keep that.

Fuckbag?

That, too.

And we're keeping "gang bang"?

What's right is right.

Klismaphilia?

Klisma... what?

Enemas. Either giving or having.

That can stay.

And we're losing "pussy," "dildo,"

"fellatio," "cunnilingus."

Are you sure about this?

Yes.

Thank you, Marge.

It's for the best.

All right.

So, you and Dr. Carr go back?

I consulted her on a few cases here and there.

We go back a few years. Why do you ask?

Just curious.

No.

- No? - You know what I mean.

- I didn't mean to imply... - I enjoy being married, thank you.

I didn't mean...

Just... Wendy has something.

Not sexual.

Maybe a little sexual.

But her ideas and her energy, she... I sound like an idiot.

You sound like you have a crush on teacher.

It's just someone like her embracing this project says something.

- Don't you think? - I get it.

Old Man Tench jumps onboard, so what?

Grumpy old Shepard, who cares?

- But the foxy professor... - That's not fair.

That's her.

- Dr. Carr. - Agent Ford.

- Welcome to Quantico. - Thank you.

How was your trip?

It was a little dull to be honest. I was grading papers, but...

We can stop at the cafeteria for a coffee if you like.

No, I'm fine. I had some this morning.

We're just this way.

So what are you teaching?

Um, I'm teaching a class

on the intersection of sociopathy and fame.

People like, um... Andy Warhol, Jim Morrison.

Their celebrity becomes the only thing they need to sustain their ego.

- Nixon was a sociopath. - Very similar.

How do you get to be president of the United States

if you're a sociopath?

The question is, how do you get to be president of the United States

if you're not?

That's why this work is so vital. It goes so much further than the FBI.

- All the way to the White House. - Perhaps, yeah.

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