All language subtitles for Criminal Minds - Beyond Borders - S01E05 - The Lonely Heart .en

Jack: Over 68 million Americans

leave the safety of
our borders every year.

If danger strikes,

the FBI's international response team

is called into action.

[French music plays]

[Indistinct conversations]

Oh, you guys go ahead. I
think I'm going to walk back.

- [Scoffs]
- You're crazy.

You're like over a mile
from your apartment.

Are we forgetting my
three-mile morning jogs?

Despite what the French think,

all Americans aren't fat and lazy.

Sam, are you sure? It's kind of late.

Ladies, we're in Paris.

It's a beautiful night, and
you want to squeeze yourself

onto a subway train with a car
full of des étrangers?

Yeah.

Somebody has watched "Moulin Rouge!"

Way too many times!

Come on! Who's coming with me?

Sam, I love your bohemian soul and all,

but my soles are hurting like hell.

No way I'm walking across
town in these shoes.

Quel dommage.

[Smooches]

[Chuckles]

♪

[Horn honks in distance]

Oh. Damn it.

[Groans]

[Siren wails in distance]

[Vehicle approaches]

[Brakes squeal]

Mademoiselle, ça va ?

Ça va, merci. Uh...

[Chuckles]

I just completely forgot how
to say, "I broke my heel."

"J'ai cassé mon talon."

Of course, you speak English.

Un peu. [French accent]
Uh, may I help you, miss?

No, I'm good.

Thank you. Merci.

Well, you sure I can't offer you a ride?

I can take you anywhere you like.

Jack: Samantha Wade.

Elementary-school teacher
from Nashville, Tennessee,

found this morning
by two of her friends.

Murdered and staged in the
apartment she'd been leasing

for the past three weeks.

Due to the brutal and provocative nature

of Samantha Wade's murder,

our ambassador and the
French foreign minister

have requested the I.R.T.'s assistance

in the homicide investigation.

And given that about two million
Americans visit Paris per year,

not to mention an additional
50,000 on work visas,

I'd bet they'd also like us

to draw up a threat
assessment to U.S. citizens.

Well, there's nothing
more threatening than this.

What are these things in her eyes?

French investigators
have identified them

as timber scribes.

Bladed instruments used by land
surveyors to inscribe trees.

Not exactly your go-to murder weapon.

Especially in an urban environment.

These tools are really
old... pre-World War I.

No prints, so they're not
gonna help us narrow down

our unsub's current occupation.

Yeah, but these scribes

aren't exactly the
murder weapons, either.

I mean, even from these photos,

you can see that the ocular injuries

aren't her cause of death.

But I don't see an official
autopsy report here, Monty.

The autopsy is being
performed by the Paris Coroner

as you guys sail over the Atlantic.

It says here that late last night,

Samantha had dinner
with the same two friends

who found her this morning...
Sheila Martin and Renee Alston.

According to them,

she chose to walk home while
they took the Metro train.

Yeah, and that was around
12:30 A.M. local time.

So Samantha could have
easily been followed home.

Jack: Sure.

But there were not signs of
forced entry into her apartment.

So it's possible that she knew

or was familiar with her attacker.

Except that the French investigators

are interviewing all of her
known friends and associates,

including Sheila and Renee.

Everybody's alibi is checking out.

Which means Samantha's assailant
might have presented in a way

that felt comfortable to her.

Well, safe enough to open the door.

Clara: Well, there's
also this French saying,

se mettre le doigt dans l'oeil,

which means to put
your finger in your eye.

It's the French equivalent of
putting your foot in your mouth.

As in to make a mistake.

A mistake that, obviously,

someone felt Samantha had to pay for.

Jack: Got to be more to it.

I mean, this staging is so extreme.

It's like he's pictured it
in his mind's eye for a while,

and now he's bringing it to life.

Well, if that's the case, Jack,

all of this preparation and effort,

he's definitely got a taste for it now.

[Conversing in French]

♪

Bon après-midi.

♪

[Horn honks in distance]

[Knocking on door]

Just a sec!

[Horn honks in distance]

Qui est-ce ?

Man: Pardon me, Mademoiselle.

You left something behind.

[Gasps]

♪

[Gasping]

♪

No, please!

N'ayez pas peur. Ce sera bientôt fini.

♪

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♪

[Horn honks]

♪

"The bonds between
ourselves and another person

exist only in our minds."

Marcel Proust.

[Telephones ringing]

[Indistinct conversations in French]

You must be from the FBI, no?

Yes, we are.

I'm Unit Chief Jack Garrett.

These are supervisory Special Agents

Seger, Jarvis, and Simmons.

And you are?

Commissaire Pierre Clément,

lead inspector, police judiciaire.

If you would follow me, please.

I'm not fluent in
these joint operations,

so you must forgive me if
I don't appreciate having,

how you say, my hand held.

Commissaire Clément, we are
not here to hold your hand,

just lend our expertise and experience.

Bien sûr.

During your flight,
another woman was found...

staged in her apartment.

Instead of mutilating the
eyes, he cut off her head.

Took it with him.

- Another American woman?
- Oui.

We have made an identification.

Simmons: Bianca Lewis, 37 years old,

work visa says she was
employed as a publicist.

Living in Paris for about 18 months.

Is there any connection between
Bianca Lewis and Samantha Wade?

None that my inspectors have
been able to establish thus far.

We'll follow up with
victimology back home.

But right now, all we know

is Samantha was a tourist

and Bianca was a temporary
non-immigrant worker.

Still, female American... both staying
in the 18th arrondissement.

Montmartre...

part of the right bank in
the northern section of city.

Hey, guys, take a look at this.

Cette fois-ci, décapitée dans son
appartement du 18e arrondissement...

Somebody has been seriously
over-sharing with the press.

Well, that would be me, Mademoiselle.

In my experience, sharing
with our journalists

often has a way of... Shaking
the fruit out of the tree.

And smacking you on the head, right?

Let's just say that your
faith in the press corps

is a little stronger than ours.

So, I've arranged for you
to work out of this room.

And copies of all our reports

will be made available as soon as we...

Actually, I'll need to visit
the Bianca Lewis crime scene

with Agent Simmons here.

I'll also need Agent Jarvis
to review the autopsy findings

while Agent Seger
looks over the evidence

collected at the Samantha Wade scene.

Anything else you require, Sir?

No, that's it.

For now.

Très bien.

♪

Let's get to work.

Jack: Just like at Samantha's apartment.

Bianca's body was posed

in the same area of
the room as Samantha's,

the same sitting position...

With all the violence
concentrated right here.

Everything else looks
pretty undisturbed.

Like Bianca had just come
home from grocery shopping.

Simmons: These bags
are pretty full, though.

Maybe somebody helped her
carry them up the stairs.

What are you thinking, Jack?

No arterial spray.

He killed her before
he removed her head.

Postmortem mutilation.

It's like what Mae said
about Samantha's eyes.

♪

You think he took the head as a trophy?

It's hard to say.

Maybe he thought in this case,

having a severed head lying around

would just confuse his message.

Well, I'm confused.

We have one woman with gouged eyes,

another with no head.

What the hell's he trying to say,

besides, "I'm a sick,
misogynistic son of a bitch"?

The staging at both scenes
was deliberate, complicated.

It would have taken a lot of time.

And yet our unsub had no fear
of interruption or distraction.

Because you think that he knew

they were staying in
these apartments alone.

Which would suggest that even if

Samantha and Bianca
didn't know each other,

they might have known the unsub.

Except he's completely
objectified his victims.

It's a lot harder to objectify someone

you've had a relationship with...

Rather than a stranger.

So how do you get to know someone
without really knowing them?

[Sighs]

All righty.

Three years of college
French, don't fail me now.

Okay.

"L'agression à coup de couteau... "

"The sharp-force injury
to each eye occurred... "

"... après la mort."

"Postmortem." Good call, Jarvis.

"With Samantha's cause de décès
actually being étranglement."

Strangulation, broken hyroid bone.

While Bianca's cause of death is...

Also étranglement, wow.

Okay, "avant la mort... "

"Antemortem contusions
suggest manual strangulation

prior to the crude
disarticulation of the head."

Hold on.

"Also recovered a fragment of metal,

possibly a piece of l'arme du crime."

The murder weapon.

Oh, way to bury the lede, guys.

♪

[Computer beeping]

♪

Weird.

[Cellphone clicks]

Quoi de neuf, mon cher ami ?

Hey, I need you to run
some evidence for me.

Okay, but you do know that the French

pretty much invented
forensic science, right?

Yeah. Give or take a hundred years.

I'm just saying that they've
got a pretty good crime lab

right there in Paris.

So the Coroner was able to recover

a piece of the murder
weapon from Bianca's body,

and I know that they're gonna mass-spec

the you-know-what out of it.

But there is this weird
piece of this symbol on it.

These curvy, wavy lines look
like I got some work to do.

So Samantha had dinner with her friends

here in the 10th arrondissement.

And then she walked back to
her apartment here in the 18th.

We have yet to determine
the precise route,

so a broad search of CCTV footage

has turned up nothing yet.

However...

It would appear she arrived home,

and then some time later,

she invited the intruder
inside the premises.

That's a very long way
to walk in those heels.

That's what her friends thought, too.

One of the heels is broken.

Snapped off in the struggle
with her assailant, to be sure.

Are you sure?

Did you see this residue?

I did not personally process
the victim's clothes, no.

But I'm not sure how
gravel would be probative.

It's not gravel.

Do you see how it sort
of shimmers in the light?

This is epoxy mortar.

It's used to set, among
other things, cobblestones...

like the ones

in some of your famous
little streets around here.

Agent Seger, those cobblestone streets

are hundreds of years old.

Exactly.

That's why people travel all
over the world to walk on them.

The dirty little secret
is some of those stones

are not nearly as old as advertised.

Bien sûr, they
require maintenance.

And some of them even
need to be replaced.

That's where the epoxy mortar comes in.

48 hours ago, Samantha took a walk

on a freshly paved cobblestone street,

somewhere between the
restaurant and her apartment.

That's when she broke her heel.

And she walked home from there.

But she didn't.

Look at the autopsy photos of her feet.

There's no scratches, no dirt...

nothing to suggest that she
walked barefoot anywhere.

She got a ride back to her apartment.

I suppose she could have hailed a taxi.

Exactly.

From a street that had
had recent road work done.

And if we're lucky, some
sort of surveillance camera.

Putting Mae's metal fragment aside,

I found the street that
you're looking for, Clara...

Cour des Rêves.

Right, but Commissaire Clément said

that there were no CCTV cameras nearby.

He is correct.

However, there's an American bank

on a nearby corner with a
camera that captured this.

They were kind enough to send
me the security-camera footage.

Jack: That's not a taxi.

Is that the best image
we have of the driver?

I am afraid so.

Mae: Oh, it doesn't look
like she knows this guy.

Yeah, it's so weird.

I mean, not only does she get
into a car with a stranger,

but she gets into the backseat.

There's no record of Samantha
requesting a ride-share.

What if it was a gypsy cab?

Gypsy cab in Paris?

Hold on.

Wait. What's that right there...

hanging from the rearview mirror?

It looks like a hackney horse.

Which is a recent symbol
for gypsy cabs in the city.

And that's how you get to know
someone without knowing them.

Our unsub drives a gypsy cab.

Makes perfect sense...
he needs a way to learn

if his prospective victims
are American, living alone.

This way, he gets to interview them.

It's kind of like
"taxi cab confessions."

I mean, taxi-cab
drivers and bartenders...

they're always the strangers

that we feel the most
comfortable confiding in.

Because they are shared intimacies

we want to believe are fleeting

and don't have a lasting impact.

Simmons: At least we have
the image of the vehicle.

This partial license-plate
number won't get us very far.

It won't get us anywhere.

Those plates are stolen.

And I got to be honest,
it's not gonna be that easy

tracking down this
one particular vehicle.

There's at least 25,000 of
them registered in Paris alone.

Well, we can start by
having the local police

sweep the 18th arrondissement.

Well, that's a start, but
our unsub's hunting ground

is gonna expand

wherever he can find a
vulnerable American woman.

And with 2 victims
in less than 48 hours,

he's already hunting for
his next victim right now.

♪

[ Woman singing in French]

[Laughter]

[ Singing continues]

[Brakes squeal, singing stops]

Hey, hey. Bonjour.

Uh, je veux que vous me chassez...

Sorry. Pardon.

Um, peux-tu...

oh, it's all right,
Mademoiselle. I do speak English.

Oh! [Laughing] Seriously?

That's awesome.

I can take you anywhere you like.

How about 17 rue de Foss?

Bien sûr

Where are you from, then?

San Diego, California.

Ah.

And what brings you to Paris?

A music internship... I play piano.

In the cafe where you work, I presume?

No, I just need some extra cash.

And it's helping me improve my French.

[Chuckles]

So, uh, 17 rue de Foss.

That is not a hostel or hotel.

No, yeah, I'm staying with a friend.

Ah. A boyfriend?

- [Chuckles]
- I wish.

You must have a special boyfriend,

a beautiful butterfly like you.

Oh, not so much.

Hmm.

And, uh...

How are you getting along with
this friend you're staying with?

You know what?

Um, do you mind just letting
me out up at the corner up here?

But we're not at your apartment.

No, I know, that's
okay. Just right up here.

No, it's not. It's not safe here.

Okay, look, François, I want out now!

♪

[Camera shutter clicks]

Hé, mais ça va ?

[Camera shutter clicks]

You let me out right now, or
I'm sending this to the cops.

Do you hear me?

[Tires squeal]

What the hell are you doing?!

- Tais-toi, tais-toi !
- [Screams]

[Engine revving]

[Screams]

[Horns honking]

Clément: Katherine Barker, 25.

A music intern from
San Diego, California.

She was discovered in an alley
in the 2nd arrondissement.

He literally tore out her
heart and stuck it in her hands.

Mae: Looks like she suffered
compound fractures to her legs

and her pelvis.

And that tells me that
he tore her heart out

after he ran her over.

But why change the pattern here?

Why stage the body in an
alley, not her own apartment?

Because Katherine fought back.

She tried to get away.

These abrasions on her
face, along her legs...

it's road rash,

I'd say from jumping
out of a moving vehicle.

So now we're looking at 3 victims

in the span of 72 hours.

And given that our unsub

needs to find an American
woman in a foreign city,

it's as if he doesn't
have a cooling-off period.

I think it's time we speak to
the public about what we know.

Offer them a warning

to avoid contact with the
driver of this gypsy cab,

implore them to notify us
immediately if they should see him.

That strategy cuts both ways.

"Cuts both ways"... what do you mean?

No doubt a warning will protect
the public in the near term.

What we're concerned
with is if we're not able

to apprehend the unsub
immediately afterwards,

then he might respond
by abandoning the car.

And right now, as long
as he feels comfortable

behind that wheel, then we
have a chance of catching him.

But if he ditches that car,

not only will it make it
harder for us to track him down,

it will force him to alter
his M.O. even further.

So you're telling me I'm damned
if I do, damned if I don't.

We need more time.

Letting the unsub know
what we know right now

is really a nuclear option.

I will wait then... until morning.

Then we sound the alarms.

♪

[Woman singing in French]

[Woman speaking French]

[Music continues]

[Camera shutters clicking]

[Music continues]

Monty: So what did I
tell you, Mae? The French

ran a radiocarbon dating
on the metal fragment

that was recovered
from Bianca Lewis' body.

Turns out to be an iron composite

that was smelted down into what
is essentially a hand saw...

some time in the late 19th century.

Well, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say

this probably won't help us
narrow down our unsub's identity.

Maybe, but it did help me identify

those weird wavy lines
etched into the fragment.

Now, because the timber
scribes and the hand saw

are both very old and very French,

I did some digging and discovered a logo

for a once-renowned
wood-craftsman company

out of Marseilles.

Le lion de l'eau.

Company was founded by the
Boulanger family in 1880.

It remained family-owned
until it was sold in 1987.

And whatever happened after
that to either the company

or the Boulanger family was not
uploaded for digital posterity.

So what are we thinking?

If our unsub's weapons of choice

can be loosely traced
back to this company,

then is he a possible relative
of the Boulanger family?

Or a subsidiary that acquired
some of the company's assets.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Jack: We don't have time for guesswork.

We need to be able to
provide Clément and his people

with a workable profile,

otherwise he's gonna release
the information we have

to the public.

So let's go over it again.

Okay, we're looking for someone
who is criminally sophisticated,

strong, patient, which
suggests to me an older male,

probably in his 40s.

Simmons: Hunting for the
right victim takes time,

so it doesn't look like he has a job.

Unless the gypsy-cab thing is legit

and he's only striking when
the victim is the right type.

Yeah, and based on his
staging of the bodies

at the last crime scene,

it appears to me that
Katherine, Bianca, and Samantha

are all surrogates for
our unsub's true target,

and their murders are probably a means

to build his courage and confidence

in order to commit the ultimate act.

So somewhere out there
is an American woman

who broke this guy's heart.

Or rejected him or committed
some perceived slight

that he now feels that
he has to redress...

in the most brutal way possible.

Jack?

♪

Clément is dropping the bomb.

[Sighs]

_

_

_

_

_

[Speaking French]

[Man screams]

♪

[Horn honks]

[Indistinct conversations]

You were right.

He abandoned his vehicle
in l'entrepôt...

the 10th arrondissement.

He left nothing behind for us.

I know you believe

I have altered this monster's
behavior unpredictably.

But I would like to believe
I stalled his progress.

He will most certainly need another car

in order to maintain his deceit.

If he maintains his deceit.

He could just go into a tailspin...

you need to double down.

Call in reinforcements if you have to.

Your department needs to
show overwhelming force

on the streets of Paris tonight

and every night until we catch this man.

This unsub needs to feel your breath

on the back of his neck at all times,

and every American woman out
there who could be his next victim

needs to feel
like there's a cop on every corner

who's there to protect them.

I will do what I can.

[Telephone rings]

All right, we need to focus
on a possible connection

between our unsub and
the boulanger family

or this craftsman company in Marseille.

And we need to find some way
to get our hands on hard copies

of all those records and histories.

All right, I'm on it.

_

_

Man: Mademoiselle, do you speak English?

English?

Yes.

Are you American, by chance?

_

_

[Truck beeping]

Ay, ay, ay!

_

_

_

[ Woman singing in French]

♪

♪

Clément: Her name is
Alexandra Lafayette.

Her husband came home last
night and startled an intruder,

who escaped.

But that's when he found her.

She's French?

My inspectors didn't
immediately connect her

with the American women
until they saw this.

♪

Mae: Looks like a butterfly.

I don't understand.

He filled her stomach
full of dead butterflies.

Yeah, but it doesn't look
like any kind of butterfly

I've ever seen before.

He didn't take the time to
stage her body at the scene.

As I said, Madame Lafayette's
husband walked in on him.

Yeah, but how did he not know that
she was living with her husband?

I mean, do you think that he
didn't have a chance to ask her?

Or maybe he no longer cares.

Why wouldn't he care?

It's a terrible risk.

Because maybe he doesn't
have time to care

if his victims are American or French.

And now any vulnerable woman will do.

He has to finish what he
started before it's too late.

Too late for what, Mademoiselle?

Well, for one thing, he
knows that we're on to him.

And it's just a matter of time
before we shut him down, right?

Right, but I think there's something
else applying pressure to him,

forcing him to accelerate his mission,

its statement.

And this time, it's his
butterflies in the stomach.

That is what he was trying to say.

I think we've been
looking at these murders

like they're just rehearsals.

But maybe they're the main event.

How do you figure?

I think our visceral
reaction to the brutality here

is keeping us from seeing the scene

from the unsub's point of view.

I have butterflies in my stomach.

I have my heart in my hands.

I lost my head.

♪

And I am blinded by love.

This is not love.

This is vicious and cruel.

Yes, but, you see, they aren't
either of those things to our unsub.

To him, these crime scenes are a way

for him to try and express himself.

Yeah, and you think that
he's trying to express himself

to this idealized American woman?

I do.

I think he is trying to tell
her how she makes him feel.

It's like a series of
sick, twisted valentines.

So you don't think she's a target.

I think she's the
object of his affections,

and he will try and
reach out to her for sure.

But if and when she
rejects his affections...

He will feel betrayed by love

and ultimately lash out on her.

Let us presume you're
correct, Agent Seger.

If we can't find this man,

perhaps we find this woman.

I just know if she will be
any easier to find than him.

Yeah, but let's not forget
about these guys here.

I mean...

Something tells me that this
butterfly effect may just...

how did you say it, Commissaire Clément?

Shake the fruit out of the tree?

♪

Monty: Say hello to my little friend.

Udaspes folus... a.k.a.
the grass demon butterfly.

Not only does he not normally
reside in your intestines,

but he's a non-native to
the European continent.

He prefers India and southeast Asia.

So our unsub either gets hold
of these demon butterflies

by importing them or stealing them.

Let's go with what's
behind door number two.

Import records show a delivery
was made to the Paris area

about nine months ago, to
Maison des papillons,

which is literally
"house o' butterflies."

Then about a week ago, a
trespassing charge was filed

and then dropped

against a 42-year-old
man named Paul Mossier.

Wait a second. That
name sounds familiar.

That last name... Mossier.

When I followed up with
the Boulanger family

and what's become of the
le Lion de l'eau company,

there was a dispute over inheritance

that was filed 20 years
ago by Killian Mossier.

Could be an uncle on
Madame Boulanger's side.

I'm not big on coincidence.

Yeah, right.

And if Paul is
connected to the family,

then that's how he
gets the murder weapons.

Monty, what else can you tell
us about this Paul Mossier?

He's got a bit of a record

dating back the last several years.

Various assaults, disorderly conduct.

Then it says here that following

an attempted assault
on a police officer,

Paul Mossier was remanded
to a psychiatric hospital.

He's supposed to be an in-patient

at l'Institut du Pinel.

Clara and I will check it out...

While you two stay
here and try to identify

the American woman who's the
focus of our unsub's attention.

♪

- Bonjour.
- Bonjour.

Je suis l'officier Seger.

C'est l'unité du Chef Garrett.

Nous sommes du FBI.

Nous aimerions parler avec
Monsieur Paul Mossier.

- Je vais voir.
- Excuse me.

You are looking for Paul?

That's right. And you are?

Dr. Alain Gilles, clinical
director of behavioral health.

Is Paul Mossier a patient here?

I'm sorry, but, uh, why does
the FBI want to speak to him?

His name's come up with regards
to an ongoing investigation.

You think he has something to do

with the American women
who have been murdered.

We need to speak to him.

Paul was released from our
supervision over two weeks ago.

When he was remanded to this facility,

what was his diagnosis?

I'm truly not at liberty to
share those details with you.

Were you his primary therapist?

Yes, myself and Dr. Bernard.

But to be honest,

Paul showed the greatest
signs of improvement

over the last months

while working with
one of our volunteers.

She, uh, used art therapy.

Jack: Is this her?

Yes. Her name is Amy Wallace.

Amy's an American, isn't she?

- Yes, she is.
- May we speak with her?

Unfortunately, she is no longer here.

She left about a month ago.

♪

Did she see this before she left?

No.

Paul took her absence very hard.

He comes from a family of craftsmen,

but due to his struggles
with mental health,

they rejected him.

Amy was probably the first person

to help him realize his potential.

But this hospital felt
comfortable releasing him

despite his known aggressive tendencies

and this suggestion
of a violent fantasy?

It's not what I would have preferred,

but Paul had improved enough

that we could no longer
hold him involuntarily.

Do you know if Paul tried to
contact Amy after his release?

As a matter of fact, he did, yes.

He asked for her address.

And that's when someone mentioned
that she had gotten engaged

and that she was returning
to the United States.

But you don't know if or
when she returned to the U.S.?

No, I do not, I'm sorry.

Thank you, doctor.

Sure.

Thank you.

We need to find Amy Wallace... now.

♪

Paul?

Bonjour, Amy.

I didn't know you knew where I lived.

Well, I apologize for not calling

before dropping by like this.

No, it's fine. I...

Just thought you were the movers.

They're already an hour late,
and I'm moving back home.

Oh.

But it's really good to see you.

It's really good to see you, too.

Sorry I haven't had a chance to visit.

It's been a busy time.

Well...

I'm no longer a patient at the hospital.

- Wonderful.
- [Chuckles]

And you're still working on
the things we were focused on?

Oh, yes, I have.

I-I need to show you something.

Okay.

Uh, but, uh, it's not here.

So I need to take you... to see it.

Paul, like I said, I can't leave.

I'm still waiting for the movers.

I...

I've been working really hard, Amy.

Please...

Come...

With me.

Okay.

Let me just grab my coat.

Okay.

[Screaming]

[Gasping]

Paul, stop, stop!

Please.

I'm not going to hurt you.

I promise.

We're just playing le
jeu d'évanouissement.

It's a fainting game.

Good night, my love.

♪

[Indistinct conversation]

My inspectors have searched the
building and outer perimeter.

There's no sign of Paul
Mossier or Amy Wallace.

No sign of a struggle.

I'm not surprised.

If we're right, at this moment,

Paul's intention is not to hurt Amy,

but to try and impress
her with what he's done.

So he would have incapacitated her

in order to transport her someplace
he feels safe and comfortable.

I cannot believe his
intention is not to kill her.

She could already be dead

and he's taken her body
somewhere to pose it.

Believe it or not, Paul's
actually trying to woo Amy,

which means we have
time, but you are right.

Eventually, Amy will
see what Paul has done,

and she will absolutely reject him.

And that's when he kills her.

The question is, where did he take her?

[Cellphone rings]

[Cellphone beeps]

Simmons, what do you got?

At 2:37 P.M.,

Alexandra Lafayette called
for roadside assistance.

When the tow-truck
driver finally showed up,

he sees another tow truck

hauling away appears to
be Alexandra's vehicle.

Mae: That was under the bridge
near the rue de l'Étoile,

and Monty's got a hook
up to the CCTV cameras

at the intersection running
both north and south of there.

Let me patch you in, boss.

I was able to spot our unsub's
new ride, which is a tow truck,

and he's clearly got
Alexandra's car hooked up to it.

He's heading northbound on
the rue d'Étoile.

But I ran all the CCTV footage.

I lost them heading north-northeast

toward the Tremblay-en-France.

I don't think he'd take her
completely out of the city, Jack.

That's a pretty industrial area.
It's a good place to lay low.

But there's no record of a Paul Mossier

owning or leasing
property out in that area.

Simmons: Well, it's got to be connected

to Killian Mossier somehow.

Mae and I will check the records again.

We need to set up a command
post out near the airport.

[Jazz music plays]

[Woman singing in French]

[Gasps]

Paul? Where am I?

Je suis là.

[Breathing heavily]

Je suis là pour toi. Tranquille.
On est ensemble. Finalement.

[Screams]

Aah!

[Screams]

No!

[Whimpering]

Doucement.

That's why I need you to see
everything I've done, okay?

Here. Here.

Monty: According to those
files you scanned for me,

the Mossier clan is like
some withering bastard branch

of the Boulanger family tree.

But the Mossiers... or
what's left of them...

they held title to
five separate holdings

on the outskirts of Paris.

From Meaux all the way to Plaisir.

Jack and Clara are getting pretty close
to that one property in Villepinte.

We have lost our sense of history.

They are calling me
the butcher of Paris.

That name was given to Marcel Petiot.

He was a doctor who killed 23 people

during World War II.

He was a butcher.

And moi?

I am... An artiste.

I took flesh and bone
and made them, uh...

Transcendent.

But none of this would
be possible without you.

You are my muse, Amy.

Because of you, I am transcendent.

You've always been special, Paul.

[Chuckles]

But I couldn't see that before you.

I know.

[Music continues]

You know...

When I was a little boy,

my father tried to teach
me how to carve the wood.

[Sighs]

He got frustrated

and burned my hand with his cigarette.

Told me I was not his blood.

I... I am so sorry.

Will you please let me go, Paul?

- I can't.
- Yeah.

Yes, you can.

No, no, Amy.

Without you, I am nothing.

I love you, Amy.

Je t'aime.

[Whimpers]

You understand what
I've done, don't you?

I do.

[Chuckles]

♪

How do you like it?

[Shuddered breathing]

♪

Jack, the French national police

have detained Killian
Mossier in Toulouse.

He has confirmed that his
nephew has taken possession

of the property you're heading to now.

Jack: Does he know if his nephew

has stockpiled any other weapons?

He knows that his nephew's crazy.

- I...
- [Shuddered breathing]

I can't believe you did that.

All those women, Paul?

Oh. Je suis désolé.

Oh, sorry?

You're disgusting.

♪

You're sick.

You've always been sick.

♪

Ah bon ?

Huh ?

Et ça ! C'est quoi ça !
C'est quoi !

[Grunting]

♪

Tu es...

une salope...

♪

sans coeur !

♪

[Grunts]

[Groans]

[Breathing heavily]

♪

I'm sorry, Amy.

[Sobbing]

[Gunshot]

♪

[Panting]

♪

Put it down, Paul!

Now!

♪

[Sobbing]

♪

[Woman singing in French]

[Singing continues]

You know what?

This is one time that
I am kind of okay with

the mechanical delay on the jet.

This is a beautiful city.

Yes, it is.

It's hard sometimes to
appreciate the beauty.

Yeah, we got to find it... somehow.

Otherwise, I don't think we
could do the job we need to do.

Yeah, even the darkest night
will end, and the sun will rise.

To beauty...

wherever we may find it.

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