All language subtitles for [SubtitleTools.com] mindcage.2022.1080p.web.h264-naisu

[thunder rumbling]

[blows air]

[thunder continues rumbling]

[door opens]

[thunder rumbling]

[rain falling]

[thunderclap]

[thunderclap]

[siren whoops]

[radio chatter]

Jake.

Dutch.

Hey, you'’re not gonna
like this one, Jake.

Trust me.

[radio chatter]

[jingling]

[Jake]
Don'’t examine the body

until a lead investigator
is present.

Understood. But you'’re
half an hour late.

[jingling]

The priest said that he'’d
never seen this woman
in the church before.

Just because he'’s a priest
don'’t mean he can't lie, Mary.

Sage.

Jake!

Wait here.

I already spoke
with Dr. Loesch.

The Artist is right
where he should be.

Just wait till CSI
finish this report.

Can'’t start jumping
into conclusions here.

What were you guys
talking about?

Just some old demons.

[sirens wailing]

[door opens]

St. Joseph'’s
called again today.

The doctors are
giving him one week,
maybe two at the most.

You should go see him.

-I can'’t handle that.
-Mary, this is your dad.

Can we please just
not talk about this?

[recording]
Before the biblical God
created the world,

he first created the heavens.

And inside the heavens,
he created the cherubim,

the angels and the archangels.

The archangels were essentially
the highest rank of angels

and the chief messengers
of God himself.

Among those archangels
was a being known as Lucifer.

[sheriff] Both women
were coated in
a resinous substance.

The lab confirmed
it'’s the same compound
used on previous victims.

Previous victims?

I think it'’s pretty safe
to assume

-we have a copycat
on our hands here, folks.
-Sir?

One with a rather
intimate knowledge
of his predecessor.

-Uh, excuse me, Sheriff?
-Yes, Detective Kelly.

I didn'’t realize that
there were other murders
connected to this case.

I assumed Jake filled you in.

It must'’ve slipped his mind.

Okay, here'’s
the Cliff'’s Notes version.

Five years ago,
serial killer Arnaud Lefeuvre,

aka "The Artist,"
abducted and murdered six women.

Prostitutes, sex workers.

First, he poisoned
and preserved them using a ricin
extracted from castor beans.

Then he'’d arrange
and decorate the corpses

in lifelike poses
using metal frames,

leaving them to be found in
various places around the city.

He called them
his "masterpieces."

I do actually remember that.
It was before finals,

so the details
are a little fuzzy.

How did you guys
end up catching him?

Damn fine detective work
is how.

Done by damn fine detectives,
one of whom is sitting
right beside you.

[siren whoops]

[sighs]

[helicopter whirring]

Hey. You might want to ease up
on the caffeine there.

It'’s the only thing
keeping me vertical.

Sleep hasn'’t been
very restful for me lately.

Ah.A railroad worker
found her about an hour ago.

[radio chatter]

[officer] Need to get some
photographs around here.

[Jake sighs]

[sheriff] The city is still
trying to recover from
what happened five years ago.

Last thing we need
is some damn copycat
reenacting this nightmare.

Well, you'’re preaching
to the choir, sir.

Yeah. That'’s why I'm
considering every option.

-No way. Absolutely not.
-Think objectively here, Jake.

He'’s our best chance,
and you know it.

-Nobody would do this, sir.
-Dutch has already volunteered.

-Dutch?
-Okay, sorry. Vo--
Volunteered for what?

The Artist.

He wants to send Dutch
in there to see The Artist.

Oh, well, that'’s a bold move,
um, but worth a shot.

I think that if you
appeal to his ego,

he would resent the fact
that another lesser artist
is copying his work.

But I think Dutch
needs some finesse.

I would send someone else.

Who do you have in mind,
Detective?

Um, you'’re looking at her.

My background is
in psychology, so...

I'’ve read your file, Mary.

Then what do you say?
You won'’t regret this.

Sir, she'’s not ready for this.

You know what?
I'’m actually very capable
of making my own decisions.

Thank you.
I won'’t let you down.

I'’ll call Dr. Loesch,
set it up this afternoon.

Thank you.

I still deserve to be here,
you know.

So don'’t even think about
monopolizing the conversation.

I get to ask
some of the questions.

All of them actually.
I'’m not going in with you.

What do you mean?

Well, The Artist is
only going to play ball

if we could somehow
win his trust.

That would be impossible
with me in the room,
considering our history.

You mean what?
Other than the arrest? Or...

People will remember The Artist
for the way he murdered
and preserved six women.

But he actually took
seven lives.

What are you talking about?

Zeke Anderson.
My partner of 15 years.

And a good friend.

The night we finally
tracked down The Artist,
Zeke was killed.

Jake, I'’m so sorry.
I... I had no idea.

There'’s more.

That night,
we were pursuing The Artist
in a patrol car.

We collided.
Our vehicles flipped.

I must have
lost consciousness
for a moment

because I don'’t remember
Zeke getting out.

I just seen him standing
next to The Artist and...

And what?

Zeke doused himself
in gasoline

and set himself on fire.

[pendant jingling]

[Dr. Loesch] Mr. Lefeuvre is
monitored around the clock.

He'’s actually the only resident
of a psychiatric institution
scheduled for execution.

The court declared
him sane, right?

Yes, I read
the mental evaluation
presented at his trial.

And you disagree?

My opinion'’s irrelevant.

The Artist was transferred
here to prevent
any further self-harm.

Self-harm?

Slashing his wrists

and painting on the walls
in his own blood.

Thank you.

[chains rattling]

-Mr. Lefeuvre, my name is
Detective Mary Kelly.
-I know who you are.

-Sorry. Did someone tell you
that I was coming?
-Yes. A winged friend told me.

Well, I'’m sure someone like you

has much better use
of their time than
conversing with birds.

And who said anything
about a bird?

The reason for my visit today
is actually because--

Regarding the copycat,
no doubt.

I presume you'’d hoped
to pick at my brain
on the matter.

Yes, I was--

I was hoping that you
might familiarize yourself
with the case.

If you saw some photos
of the victims,

maybe you would notice
something that could help us.

And if I notice something,
what would be in it for me?

I just assumed
a man like you

wouldn'’t want his legacy
tarnished by an impostor.

That'’s semi-clever, Mary.

I'’m afraid you'’ll have to take
a different tack with me.

Okay, then,
I will talk to Dr. Loesch

and see if we can get you
some better meal options.

Two weeks before my execution,
you think I'’ll be swayed
by a new menu?

Extending the time
in the yard then?

I abhor physical exertion
of any kind.

"No" again, I'’m afraid.

But let'’s cut to the chase,
shall we?

I want my death sentence
commuted to life in prison.

I'’m afraid I don't have
the authority to offer you that.

You will have once we show
the authorities something.

May I?

Photographs of my art macabre

can still be seen
on the Internet

if one knows where to look,

and then used
to replicate my work.

So, the suspect could be
literally anyone.

No, not anyone.

The preservative
was a match.

Your formula, it was
sealed by court order.

It was never released
to the public.

So, this copycat,
he knows far more
than he should.

Maybe it was someone
that you knew from your past,
someone that you confided in?

Could you leave
the file with me tonight?

I'’d like to study it in detail.

I'’ll have Dr. Loesch
bring it to your cell.

In the meantime,
I have prepared some questions

that might help refresh
your memory.

That won'’t be necessary.
My memory is absolute.

But I would like your help
with a different matter.

-What is that?
-My art supplies.

They'’ve been in
the Sheriff'’s Department storage
since my arrest.

I want them back with permission
to use them in my cell.

I must have
my art supplies, Mary,
or we can'’t proceed.

It'’s nonnegotiable.

Reminder that my hour of death
is fast approaching.

Thank you, Mary.

I'’ll see
what I can do.

Should you find anything,
Dr. Loesch will provide you
access to a phone.

Mary, are you familiar with
the archangel Samael?

Yes, but I outgrew fairy tales.

And then along comes Mary.

[door opens, closes]

He knew I was coming.
Someone on the inside must
be feeding him information.

What about our case?
Is he willing to help?

-Uh... [sighs]
-What does he want?

He wants his sentence commuted.

-No damn way!
-Okay. He might know something.

Don'’t be naive, Mary.

He only said what
you wanted to hear.

Naive? Wow.
That was uncalled for.I'’m sorry.

But two weeks from now
that bastard'’s gonna fry,

and the world'’ll be
a better place for it.

[sighs] I think we both
could use a coffee.

I'’m okay. Thank you.

[gasps]

[muttering]

Sir, step away from
the vehicle right now.

I'’m not gonna ask you again.

[knock on window]

Mind unlocking it?Yeah. Sorry.

Thank you.

Not a single print,
trace of DNA.

Same as the others
five years ago.

[guard over intercom]
Yeah, what is it?

Tell Dr. Loesch I need to
speak with Detective Kelly.

You have two minutes.

Did you see that tattoo
on her left shoulder?

[Jake]
The Sigil of Baphomet?

An inverted pentagram with
a goat'’s head at the center.

It represents carnality,
I think.

You'’re familiar
with that stuff?

Well, I'’m familiar
with The Piper,

a brothel five minutes'’ drive
from where her body was found.

All the women working there
have tattoos just like that.

She was a hooker, Mary.

[cell phone vibrating]

Detective Kelly.

Thank you for reuniting me
with my old paints, Mary.

Very much appreciated.

Prove it.

Oh, I will.

But first I want to make
something perfectly clear.

Whatever help I provide
is for you and only for you.

Not for your police friends,
nor anybody else. Understood?

Understood.

Now, the copycat'’s
latest victim,
the crucified girl...

Do you happen to know
if the coroner
clipped her wings?

Why would that matter?

Because she'’s
going to need them.

Why does she need them?

Mr. Lefeuvre,
why does she need her wings?

For her journey
into the afterlife.

Forget something?

Yeah, I need to look
at these wings.

What exactly did he say?

Something about the wings.
He implied that they
were important somehow.

There'’s something in here.
I think it'’s glued.

[Jake] What the hell is that?

It'’s a nail polish brush.

This shade
was discontinued years ago.

You could tell all that
just by looking at the cap?

No, this is the exact shade
that I wore in high school.

My father hated me
for wearing it.

I'’m gonna need
to take this, okay?

That brush was in there, sir.

And you can confirm this?

Still wondering about
the coroner, though.

Dr. Reed?
What-- What about him?

Well, are you aware of him
ever coming into contact
with The Artist, sir?

What if he knew the brush
was there all along
and never said anything?

Wh-Why would he do something
like that, Jake?

I'’ve known Dr. Reed
for five years.

Look, I think it'’s
important that we just
keep The Artist talking,

and I honestly think
that we need to consider
his commutation request.

We'’re gonna need
more than a brush

to approach the governor,
Detective.

But if you feel you'’re onto
something, you keep going.

You'’ll get all
the support you need.

How about we focus on
catching the copycat
so they both can fry?

Hey, can I ask you
something?

The night The Artist
was arrested,
what happened, exactly?

Jake and Zeke were pursuing
at a high rate of speed
when Jake lost control.

They crashed.
Vehicle caught on fire.

Jake made it out.
Zeke died at the scene.

Jake suffered bad burns
on his left arm,

but he still
made the arrest, Mary.

[The Artist] Hello, Jacob.

I suppose a firm handshake'’s
out of the question.

I'’d rather shake hands
with the devil.

Careful what you wish for.

Do you realize how
batshit crazy you are?

This is such misguided
thinking, Jacob,

especially from a person
who'’s witnessed
what you'’ve witnessed.

It'’s a pity, really.
I do take comfort
in one thing.

Not only did Zeke
finally see the light,

he became it.

Oh, yeah?

I didn'’t lay
a finger on him.

Your partner set
himself ablaze.

Jake.

Jake.

Put your firearm down.

Now.

We need to have a talk.

[animal howls]

Victim ID'’d
as Desiree Washburne, age 26.

Affiliated with the sex trade,
by any chance?

Says she worked for several
online escort agencies.

Three dead in three days.

I really want
to hurt this guy, Mary.

[deputy over radio]
I need you to back up.

[radio chatter]

[water lapping]

Sniffer dogs
are working the woods,

and Dutch is on
foot and tire print duty.

So, we should have
entry and exit points
in no time.

Unless this guy
can fly. Yeah.

He'’s getting reckless.

[Jake] No. More confident.

[jingling]

[insect buzzing]

There'’s something
underneath the nail.

Uh, do you have
some tweezers?

[insect buzzing]

This is a needle
from an antique compass.

My partner Zeke
had a compass
just like it.

Never saw him without it, Mary.
Not once.

But the day after he died,
his wife came to collect
his effects.

No sign of the compass.

Well, you don'’t
actually think that--

First your nail polish,
now Zeke'’s needle.

You tell me.

How do you know
it'’s not an act?

[Dr. Loesch]
He'’s suffered episodes
like this since childhood.

Do you have any theories
as to the cause?

At age ten,
he sustained a blood clot
on the brain after a fall.

He spent the next two years
in a wheelchair.

The damaged regions
of his brain

were likely reaggravated
at the time of his capture,

due to use of excessive force
by Detective Doyle.

No, I read the arrest report.
There'’s no mention
of any misconduct by Jake.

It also doesn'’t mention
he spent the next three months
in therapy afterwards.

-Lefeuvre?
-No. Jake Doyle.

I thought you knew.

[Jake] Before he lit the match,

Zeke looked right at me
and laughed.

And that laugh, a sound
I never wanna hear again,
it was pure evil.

A pure evil laugh?

Jacob, do you hear yourself?
An evil laugh?

I sincerely hope you did not put
this into your incident report,

because it makes you sound
unreservedly insane.[thunder rumbles]

[pop song playing][people laughing]

♪ Now there'’s hell to pay♪

♪ I'’m nobody's angel♪

[patron] Yeah!

♪ Can'’t deny
I belong on my knees♪

♪ Heaven knows
I'’m ready to crawl♪

-♪ So please, please...♪
-[jingling]

[song continues playing]

[patrons] Whoo!

Detective Kelly.

[scoffs]

You knew. You knew about
the nail polish brush.

Nail polish brush?

-You told me to go and look,
and you said--
-I told you where to look.

-Not what you would find.
-So, why the nail polish brush,
Mr. Lefeuvre?

What is the significance?

Because it'’s something
I used to do.

I would place
a personal possession
next to each body,

and forensics
missed it every time.

It'’s an ancient burial practice.

An object to accompany
the dead on their journey
to the afterlife.

But you don'’t believe
in the afterlife, do you, Mary?

[scoffs] You know, a petition
to commute your sentence
has been drafted.

I just doubt it ever reaches
the governor'’s desk.

By the way, Mary,
you were correct.

The copycat does know
my work well.

Maybe too well,
which makes me wonder...

If truth be told, Mary,

I have a number of admirers.

And I may have even
met some of them
before my arrest.

And I may have even divulged
some of my secrets to them.

So, it is possible that
among these letters,
there is a likely suspect.

I'’m very happy to come
help you look at those.

Nobody looks through
my correspondence except me.

I'’ll need your word on that.

You have my word on that.

Mr. Lefeuvre,
what do you know about
a missing compass?

I know nothing about
a compass, Mary.

A needle for one
was found under the fingernail
of the last victim.

Photograph?

Hmm.

So, a compass
missing its needle...

or a needle
missing its compass.

And what might that represent
metaphorically, Mary?

What?

Disorientation.

Or a lost soul
struggling to find their way.

Will you excuse me?

I have some reading to do.

[cooing]

[chains rattling]

[gasps]

I don'’t wanna die.

[floorboards creak]

[thunder rumbling]

[Dale] About your dad...

They'’re giving him
one week, maybe.

[The Artist] You don'’t believe
in the afterlife, do you, Mary?

Or a lost soul
struggling to find their way.

Hey. [sniffs] Ooh.
What'’s that smell?

-Smells like there'’s
something burning.
-Oh, that'’s the sage.

The sage?

Thank you.

Um, so what'’s with the sage?

Expels negative thought.

Dale, I'’m not getting into it
about my dad again, okay?

I wasn'’t gonna say
a word about your dad.

[sighs] Sorry.
I just-- The case
has been getting to me.

Let'’s eat.

[dog barking]

For my next demonstration,
I'’m going to need
a volunteer.

Ah.

Please. Sit down.

[applause]

Please, sit.

Sit.

Now, you are going to be
what I wish you to be.

[whimpering]

[bones cracking]

[volunteer groans]

[groans]

[cracking continues]

Hey, are you sure it'’s okay
we'’re not taking
that trip to Rome?

Yeah. I know your work
takes priority.

[glass shattering]

What was that?

[gun clicks]

[dog barking in distance]

-Sure it was the same guy?
-[Mary] Yeah, I'’m positive.
He was--

He just seemed really crazed,
like he was under
the influence of something.

Could this be the killer
that you'’re after?

[cell phone ringing]

[radio chatter]

He struck again.

Get some rest, Mary.

I'’m coming with you.

[helicopter whirring]

The museum security says
five hours are missing
from the dome security footage.

He took his time with this one.
Wonder why.

Jake.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah. It'’s Zeke's compass,
all right.

Don'’t move it.

This is Doyle.

Evidence room.

[whirring]

What is that? German?

Uh, Dutch, I believe.

"Het helse landschap."
"The inferno landscape."

Wait. What?

You okay?

Before Zeke died,
he texted me this.

[Mary] It'’s an art book.

"The newly discovered work
by 16th-century master
Hieronymus Bosch."

It says it'’s out of print.

I know where
we could find a copy.

[Jake] The Inferno Landscape.

I read it a couple of times,
but never figured out
what Zeke was trying to tell me.

[Mary] Samael.

The Artist mentioned that name.

Samael was a fallen angel
cast into hell.

But he'’s better known as--Lucifer, yeah.
I'’m familiar with the story.

[applause]

We thank Father Linares
for his testimony.

The exorcisms
he participated in

during his final
mission to Ethiopia

provide us with
a better understanding
of the phenomena of possession.

-What are we doing here?
-I want you to meet
an old friend.

Enjoy.

Thank you, Father.
Allow me to introduce
my partner, Mary Kelly.

Father, I was wondering
if you could look into
Mary'’s etheric aura.

I believe she may
need a healing.

What are you talking about?

She'’s been exposed
to a negative force,

the evil man
at the center of
our investigation.

My God, I'’m out of here.

Mary, wait.

What was that back there?

Look, I was only
trying to help.

You'’re trying
to help how?[sighs]

Look, I'’ve been studying,
learning new things.

I want to share '’em with you.

I thought you were different
than Dutch and all the others.

But I guess I was wrong.No, no, no.

I am trying to catch
a serial killer.
You'’re wasting our time.

Jake, you can believe
whatever you want.

What you read in your own time,
that'’s your business.

But when superstition starts
interfering with the work,
then I have a problem.

If you want to be reassigned,
just ask the sheriff.

-I'’m sure Dutch would
welcome you with open arms--
-That is not what I'’m saying.

Jake, this is not healthy,
especially for you, okay?

Hey, car'’s this way.I'’m taking a walk.

Mary.

[sighs]

[exhales]

[monitor beeping]

[dove cooing]

[horse whinnies]

[whinnies, grunts]

[beeping continues]

Is he all right?

Pulse and breathing are normal.
He'’s fine.

Yeah, you filed
numerous reports
to extend his stay.

And I'’ve read your report
on his supposed self-harm.

It'’s a little overstated,
in my opinion.

Do you have a medical degree?

Just a master'’s
in common sense.

Do you want to level with me,
or should I go to
the board of directors instead?

[sighs]
His mind fascinates me.

I'’ve been studying him
ever since he arrived.

At any rate, we both
want him here for now.

[train horn blowing]

[over radio] Dispatch
controller Reynes SD751.

Groundskeeper'’s truck used in
lieutenant governor'’s abduction

was just found
outside Parrie Reserve.

Located the vehicle.
In standby and awaiting CSI.

[whistling]

[knocks]

Come in.

These were just
dropped off.

Thanks.

Uh, ten minutes ago, sir.

Yeah, yeah.
I saw the photo myself.

I forwarded them
to your private email.

Yeah. Yeah.

Uh, yes.[door closes]

I believe it'’s
our only option, actually.

I mean, look... [scoffs]

There'’s no guarantees here,
but time is not our friend.

Of course, Governor.

[sighs] I had to inform
the governor of all our options,

including The Artist'’s request.

Damn it!

You know, Jake,

maybe you ought to think about

sitting the rest
of this one out.

Take a little break,
time for yourself.
It'’d be understandable.

Look, Lieutenant Governor Diaz
doesn'’t match the profile
of any of the other victims.

Are we sure that
this is our guy?

He abandoned his truck
a couple blocks away.

Inside, we found trace amounts
of chloroform

and the dove feathers--
all matches.

And then, there are these.

Delivered to the psych institute
via courier service.
Addressed to Arnaud Lefeuvre.

He'’s trying
to prove himself
to the master.

Or...

Or is he showing off?

Boasting he can do better.

I mean,
The Artist never targeted

such a high-profile victim
like this, Detective.

Regardless, I'’m convinced--

I'’m convinced
they'’ve been communicating
since the very beginning.

Maybe using code to get past all
the inspections. I don'’t know.

We'’re gonna know shortly,
though.

What are you talking about?

Um, Dr. Loesch has agreed

to, uh, help us take
a closer look.

No. I gave The Artist my word.

-I'’m not gonna risk losing
his trust right now.
-He'’ll never know.

Sure. Yeah.

[Diaz crying]

[crying continues]

No, please!

No!

-[rain falling]
-[thunder rumbling]

[breathing heavily]

[roaring]

What are you doing?

Couldn'’t sleep.

[Dr. Loesch]
Your commutation order,
signed by the governor.

Effective
under one condition:

Lieutenant Governor Diaz
must be found alive.

-What is this?
-Medical checkup.

Bullshit.

[Dr. Loesch]
You have 45 minutes.

Yeah, that'’s plenty.

Something familiar
about that mug.

Stay on task, Detective.

[camera shutter clicks]

He struck again.Hmm.

I'’m revisiting
a childhood favorite.

The Ecstasy of Santa Teresa.
Bernini.

By the way,
your friends were here.

-It wasn'’t my idea.
-And they left empty-handed.

I tried
to stop them.
I...

Do you remember
I told you, Mary,

that I would help you
but not them?

Oh, I took all my letters
and burned them

and flushed the ashes
down the toilet.

But not before
committing them to memory.

Mr. Lefeuvre, please.

Tell me what you remember.

You tell me
something first, Mary.

You tell me if you believe

that a man who is free
inside his own mind

can truly be confined
behind the bars of a prison.

I don'’t follow.

The sketch.

[dog barking][siren wailing]

[train horn blowing]

[knock on door]

Boy, let'’s go.

Come here.

My two o'’clock's here.

Keep quiet.

[moaning in distance]

[moaning continues]

-What are you doing?
-What the hell did
I tell ya, boy?

Why did you do that?

No more religious shit!Stop!

-Ain'’t nothing
but brainwashing.
-Stop!

I won'’t tolerate it.But I like
the old masters'’ style.

You wanna draw something,
draw a dog or a real
live person, for once!

[siren wailing]

In the subsequent
two years,

I was confined
to a wheelchair.

But...

[loudly] Jake, you know
all about that, don'’t you?

Jake!

Come out, come out
wherever you are.

Mr. Lefeuvre,
I am sure your childhood
was very difficult,

but time is of
the essence right now.

I need you to talk to me
about the copycat.

Please.

I'’m nearly
out of sculpting clay.

I'’ll replenish that.
Please talk to me
about the copycat.

The gentleman you seek

is a forger
of Renaissance paintings,

primarily religious in theme.

I used to frequent
a quaint little antique store
called Langdon & Sons.

And they,
more than occasionally,

displayed some of
his counterfeits there, Mary.

[door closes]

We'’re not open yet.

We'’re not customers.

-Well, you just can'’t
barge in here---
-Without a warrant?

[clock ticking]

Jake.

What about it?When The Artist referenced
a painting, he made a...

Who painted this?

He wished to remain anonymous.

I paid him in cash
and I never saw him again.

We'’re gonna need
to seize it as evidence.

Hey, when did you get
a search warrant?

I didn'’t.
I always keep a blank one handy.

No one ever
reads them.
[laughs]

[gunshot]

If you knock on
the devil'’s door, he'll answer.

It'’s the freak who
broke into my house!

Mary, wait!

Wait!

[homeless person]
You should'’ve
listened to me, Mary!

Put your hands above your head.

-It'’s too late now, Mary.
-Back off!

-I will shoot. I will shoot.
-Pull that trigger, Mary!

You don'’t have the guts
to pull that trigger!

I tried to warn you.

No!

[thud]

[sheriff] Javier Salazar,
the man who assaulted you,

was employed at the institute
until last year.

Worked there as a nurse.

We'’re comparing his DNA
with the salivary DNA
found on the envelope

that contained
Lieutenant Governor Diaz'’s
photos.

What we know already, he was
in daily direct contact
with The Artist.

He was the RN in charge
of drug administration.

I'’ve already checked
Salazar'’s record.

He was let go
due to his mental condition.

Acute bipolarism,
according to Dr. Loesch.

Look, he sounds psychotic,
so it'’s really hard to believe

that he'’s capable
of such elaborate murders.

We won'’t know for sure
until the DNA comes back,

but I'’m pretty damn confident
he was our guy, Mary.

We still have
a missing woman, sir.

The lab'’s running
soil traces
on Salazar'’s shoes.

We want to pinpoint
exactly where he'’s been.

Any results on that painting?

There.

Thumb. Must have brushed
the wet paint.

[thunder rumbling]

[rain falling]

I offered Zeke
a full confession,

and all I asked for
in return

was for him to sit
for his portrait.

In fact, I would like
to make the same offer to you.

Of course,
I'’m perfectly capable
of drawing from memory.

Would you care
to sit for me?

[chattering]

[radio chatter][phone rings]

Got a print on the painting,
Detective.

Did you run it through AFIS,
confirming it'’s Salazar's?

Belongs to a woman, actually.

We had her print on file
from a prostitution arrest
years ago.

Name and address?It'’s all in there, Detective.

Hey.What'’s going on?

I'’ll bring you
up to speed en route.

Take some backup.

[sirens wailing]

[sirens whoop][radio chatter]

[doves cooing]

[chattering]

You might want to see this.

No, it can'’t be her.
This body'’s been here
for far too long.

This level of desiccation
would take years.

[insect buzzing]

[Mary] He must have been testing
the preservative on her.

Turned this whole apartment
into an art studio

to measure the rate
of decomposition.

I wouldn'’t touch that
if I were you.

Poison?

It'’s probably ricin
extracted from castor beans.

Same toxin he used
on the other girls.

A single drop
can kill a horse.

So, the Bosch
wasn'’t a Bosch at all,

but a forgery
painted right here.

Gotta be crawling
with Salazar'’s DNA.

I don'’t think so.

Welcome to
The Artist'’s home, Jake.

He'’s playing games with us.

He turned his own mother
into a guinea pig.

[cell phone vibrates]

[Mary] Salazar'’s DNA--

Not a match.

[siren wails]

You knew that painting would
take us to the apartment,

and you wanted us
to find your mother.

-Why?
-Because I wanted you to
understand who I truly am.

I have read
every single public record

with your name on it,
including the court cases.

I have a very good grasp
on who you are.

Did you ever think there may
be truths about me, Mary,

that are not contained
in those files?

This all began when
I was working on a piece

called
The Inferno Landscape.

And then I heard a voice,

and that was the voice
of the archangel Samael.

Why am I listening to this?

And that voice opened
my ears and my eyes

to who I really am.

You'’ve given me nothing
on the copycat.

I'’ll let the governor know.

Too bad for you.
I can tell you exactly
where to find him.

Why should I believe you?

What choice do you have?

By the time I finish,
you'’ll have his exact address.

I promise you.

Finish what?

Sculpting.

Sculpting you.

You are a sick man.

Because you don'’t
realize something.

If the lieutenant governor dies,
you'’re going to the chair.

And you don'’t care.

What are you doing?

Waiting.

You can'’t be serious
right now.

Deathly.

Make yourself comfortable.

If you want that address.

Here'’s the deal.
You have ten minutes
and not a second more.

At the end of those ten minutes,
you'’re giving me the address.

Agreed. Shall we?

The human form
is a divine work

of grace and proportion,

but the same cannot
be said, however,

for the human mind,

which is weak and corruptible.

To create a sculpture
is to solve a mystery.

Every contour
a destination,

every gaze a road map,

every expression and hollow

the hidden address
of the soul.

Did you know, Mary,
that when I first
glimpse a person,

their story is already
revealed to me?

And that yours is
the tale of a young woman

plagued by terrible scars
from her childhood.

We all have old wounds.

Wounds are
the trademark of warriors,
wouldn'’t you agree?

And God could have
healed your wounds.

But you turn your back
on him. Why, Mary?

My father.

A man you haven'’t seen
in many years,

who you still, in fact,
refuse to see.

And all he wants to do
is to be able to say
goodbye to you.

You'’re not guessing anymore.
How do you know that?

Why won'’t you see him, Mary?

-You don'’t know
what he put me through.
-What did he put you through?

Did he abuse you
as my mother
abused me?

No, no.

You and I
are not the same.

That man,
he never touched me. He...

He would put his hand
on the stove, and...

he would say, "This is what
happens to flesh in hell."

And I couldn'’t stop him.

And you can smell
his burning skin?

I still can.

So, he made you responsible for
the torment he was suffering.

That is truly the stuff
of nightmares, Mary.

Tell me about them.

They begin with falling.

Falling where?

Into flames.

The burning was so real
that I could still feel it
when I woke up in the morning.

Do you still have
those nightmares, Mary?

No.

The moment
I stopped believing in hell,
they went away,

and my father couldn'’t
scare me with them anymore.

But that made him try
all the harder,
didn'’t it, Mary?

[Mary] He said I was possessed.

That I needed help.
And that'’s when he started
dragging me to confession.

And that'’s where you
first seduced him?

Right in
the confessional booth?

Seduced who?The priest who took
your confessions.

Father Dale.
The one who now
shares your bed.

Who are you talking to?
Who told you this?

Do you know why he
shares your bed, Mary?

Do you?

I don'’t need to answer
these questions.

Would you like me
to tell you why?

Stop! Stop!

We fell in love.

Love?

You fell in love?

He chose
a different life with me.

So, it was true love,
correct?

Yes.Uh-huh.

And when you tell
yourself that, Mary,

-do you believe it?
-Yes.

You actually
believe that?Yes.

-I don'’t think you do.
-Yes, I do.

Or didn'’t you,
in fact, do it merely
to spite your father?

Thank you
for sitting for me, Mary.

It'’s very much
appreciated.

It'’s your turn.

The address. Now.

The address
is 1522 Lola Court.

Was that loud enough?

Or shall I repeat it
for your colleagues?

1522 Lola Court.
Come on, people! Let'’s go!

[sirens wailing]

Mary, you'’re
forgetting something.

This is for you.

And always remember,
Mary,

that the truth
is only ever found
within ourselves.

[door closes]

Need a lift?

Why didn'’t you go
with the others?

I figured those apes
could handle an arrest
without me for once.

Yeah, but it'’s our case.
One of us should'’ve--

I'’d rather be here
right now.

Come on, Mary.

[Diaz breathing shakily, crying]

[Diaz] Oh, my God.

[sobbing] God.

[doves cooing]

[radio chatter]

I just-- I don'’t understand
how he knows all those things
about my life.

It'’s stuff that I've only ever
told one other person, and...

No. No, it can'’t be.

He'’s just putting things
in my head, right?

"Truth is found within oneself."
That'’s what he said.

Who said what?

Wait, what are you doing?

Archibald, have you lost
your mind? [gasps]

Son of a bitch.

-I'’ll be damned.
-265 Opal Street.

It'’s the right address.
Do you know where this is?

Yeah.

[sighs]

[animal calling]

[animals calling]

[hinge creaks]

Anyone home?

What the hell
is all this?

It'’s me. It's...
It'’s my entire life. It's--

"Infernum."

I-It'’s Latin for "hell."

Come on, Mary.
We really need
to call this in.

Go ahead. I'’m just gonna
take a few pictures.

I'’ll catch up, okay?

[sighs]

Car 252 to Dispatch.

[cell phone vibrating]

Hi, you'’ve reached Dale.
Leave a message.

[distant crying]

[crying continues]

[floorboard creaks]

[breathing heavily]

[hinge creaks]

[doves cooing]

[clattering]

[distant crying continues]

Governor Diaz?

[Diaz] Yes. Who are you?

I'’m the one who's gonna
get you out of here.Okay.

-How do you unlock this?
-The devil man. He has the key.

-Where is he?
-He'’s right there.

[crying, breathing shakily]

[breathing shakily]

Step out with your hands
above your head.

Slowly.

Mary.

Jake?

Well, yes. And no.

[as The Artist]
I promised to help you
find the killer, Mary.

And here he is.

Jake,
what'’s wrong with you?

Oh, Jake'’s not here
right now.

No prison can hold a man
who'’s free inside himself.
Remember, Mary?

[breathing shakily]

Lefeuvre?

That'’s right.

[breathing shakily]

You still need to hear
the rest of my story, Mary.

[children laughing,
chattering]

Mother destroyed
all my art books,

forcing me to find
new subjects to draw.

That'’s when I discovered
my power.

After capturing
someone'’s likeness
in a drawing,

I can leave my own body
and temporarily enter theirs.

I kept it a secret
for many years,

fearing it to be a curse.

Until the archangel Samael

revealed it was a gift...

[gun clicks]

...bestowed upon me

when the spirit
entered my body.

I was born an angel, Mary.

Angel of Death.

[Mary murmuring]

Come back, come back,
come back.

Jake, please.
Jake, come back. Please.

No, no, no!

[grunts]

[breathing heavily]

I have honored the contract.

Lieutenant governor lives.

And the killer
will soon be dead.

And I couldn'’t have done it
without you.

Now finish the job, Mary.

One more,

right here.

Don'’t be afraid.

[breathing heavily]

[as himself] Mary?

[Jake gasping]

Where am I?

I'’m so sorry.

Jake, I'’m so sorry.

Jake, it was you.

You were the copycat
the whole time.

[breathing shakily]

You gotta stop him, Mary.

[gasps]

[sirens wailing]

Now, you'’re free to join
your old partner, Jacob.

Go.

Go.

The city can breathe easier

thanks to Detective Mary Kelly,
whose courageous actions

ended the killing spree
of her former partner,
Jake Doyle,

and saved the life
of Lieutenant Governor Diaz.

[clears throat]You, uh, wanted
to see me, sir?

I know it'’s not
the happy ending
we all wanted, Detective.

But you did save
that woman'’s life.

Psychologists are saying
that Jake suffered from

some kind of dissociative
identity-type psychosis,

possibly triggered from the--
from the first case.

That'’s why he thought
he was The Artist.

Well,
they are the experts.

What do you think,
Mary?

You were there that night.

What I think won'’t
bring him back, sir.

The Jake I knew
wasn'’t capable of this.

And I knew Jake
for a long time.

I just can'’t wrap
my head around it.

Whoever believes in me

should not abide
in the darkness.

May the Lord

look kindly on you,

Elias Kelly.

In the name of the Father
and the Son

and the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

I'’m glad
you saw your father
before he passed.

Yeah. Me too.

Um...
can you give me a minute?

Yeah.

-[doves cooing]
-[whistling]

Dr. Loesch.

[as The Artist]
Let the earth rest lightly
on him, Mary Kelly.

Did you know my father,
Dr. Loesch?

No. I just wanted
to see you.

No visits. No calls.

Not even a letter,
Mary Magdalene?

I was wondering
when you'’d show up.

I missed you too, Mary.

You never intended to kill
the lieutenant governor,
did you?

Very perceptive.

I was only giving her boss
extra incentive to sign.

[grunts]

No, Mary.

It'’s you who's going
to be next.

Why the games?

You could have
just sketched a guard
and wheeled yourself out.

You could have escaped
at any time.

To spend the rest of my life
hunted like an animal?

I think not.

Escape has never been
my intent, Mary.

In fact, there couldn'’t be
a more ideal place for me

to continue
my necessary work.

As I'’ll soon be
returning the favor

when I purify your soul,
Mary.

Today would have been the day.

Of my execution.
Ironic, isn'’t it?

I think a little bit more
than you realize.

And what'’s that
supposed to imply?

I have a question for you.

Did you happen
to sketch Dr. Loesch
with a black pencil?

-I'’m sorry?
-A black charcoal pencil.

It was part of the art supplies
that were delivered
to your cell yesterday.

I think you might have
thought that they were
from some deranged fan,

but no, they were from me.

See, I noticed
you had this habit

of chewing on the ends
of your pencils.

Just added a couple drops
of your special ingredient,

the same one that you used
on your own mother.

You'’re bluffing.

I probably should have filed it
with evidence, but...

I guess Jake taught me
a few bad habits after all.

Have a good day.

[grunts]

[exhales]

[labored breathing]

[groaning]

[gagging]

[gasping]

[coughing]

[grunting, coughing]

[clattering]

[breathing heavily, gasps]

[breathing heavily]

[groans]

You know, I was
thinking about that trip
you wanted to take.

To Rome?Yeah, let'’s do it.

["Eclipse the World"
playing]

[song continues playing]

[song ends]