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Fuck!

Name three objects
in this room.

Chair, lamp, clock.

Three objects
not in this room.

Whisky bottle,
airplane, racehorse.

Fuck.

Today's date.
- Thursday.

The date,
not the day of the week,

Um...

September. Sep...

How about the year?

What's your city of birth?

Do you remember
your mother's name?

How about your father?

This is an
experimental procedure.

Electrodes will send impulses

to the target areas
in your brain.

New neural pathways
should develop,

but the results can be
a little less predictable,

especially given your history
of substance abuse,

a common trigger
for Alzheimer's.

Hello.

Is this Roy Freeman?

Hello?

Yeah.
Um, my name is Emily Dietz.

I work with
the Clean Hands Project.

Clean Hands Project?

Yes!

We are a legal action
nonprofit

and we advocate for inmates

who have been disenfranchised
by the system.

Okay.

Would you have a few minutes
to speak?

Yeah.

What's this about?

It's... regarding
an old case of yours.

Emily Dietz.

Mr. Freeman?
- Ms. Dietz.

Oh. Hi.

- Emily.
- Emily.

I really appreciate you
meeting with me.

No problem.

You said it was about,
uh, an old case, huh?

Yes, sir. Isaac Samuel.

Isaac Samuel?

Um... I... I'm sorry.
I-I don't, uh...

Oh. Of course.

I'm sure you've seen
more cases

than you care to remember.

Yeah. Something like that.

He was convicted
in the Joseph Wieder murder

at Waterford College
ten years ago

and is scheduled
to be executed

end of next month.

We've tried to get a stay
from the governor,

but it's not looking good.

Okay.

I don't recognize him.

What's he got to do with me?

Mr. Samuel requested to speak
with the detectives

who had interrogated him
the night of his confession.

I interrogated him?

And I have yet to locate
your former partner.

What does he want
to talk about?

I'm afraid he didn't say.

That's something that you
will have to ask him yourself.

Isaac Samuel?

Yeah.

I'm Roy Freeman.
I used to be a detective.

I've been told
you wanted to see me.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Okay.

Well, here I am.

How are you doing?

Oh, you know,
I'm blessed, Roy.

Ten years,
three hots and a cot,

member of
the death row book club.

Prison got my body,
but Allah got my spirit.

Like you give a fuck
how I'm doing.

I see.

So, this lady,
uh... Emily Dietz,

from the Clean Hands Project,

she told me you wanted
to talk to me.

Is that what you wanted
to say?

No, you're here 'cause
I want to know how it feels

to know an innocent man
is gonna be put to death.

Right.

And, uh... you are
the innocent man?

Yeah.

Don't get me wrong, Roy.

I'd done some bad shit,
made some bad decisions,

but killing Joe Wieder
ain't one of them.

Isaac...

you confessed.

You were brought in
for questioning

and you confessed.

So now you're telling me,
all this time later,

suddenly you remember things
different?

Ain't nothing sudden about it.

I've been in here ten years.
Ten fucking years.

Nothing to do but replay
that shit in my head.

- How it really went down.
- Right.

That's why I'm here.

So you can tell me
how it really went down.

Look, I know you ain't no cop
no more,

the way they shit-canned you

over that drunk-driving
accident,

but maybe you want to clear
your conscience.

At least hear me out...
this time.

I'm listening.

Night of the murder,

I was so strung out,
I ain't remember shit.

You guys hammered me
all night.

By the time I saw those
photos, I was so fucked up

I thought I must have done it.

You broke in,
you beat him to death.

We found your fingerprints
all over the house!

Come on!

Just admit it, son. Admit it.

This was you. This was you!
You did this! This is you!

This is all fucking you!

Admit it!

Yeah.

Why did you go to his house?

The year before
Wieder got killed,

I got rung up for theft.

Formula for my little man.

And Wieder testified as
an expert witness for the DA.

I told the judge
I was so high that night

I wasn't thinking straight,

but Wieder said I knew
exactly what I was doing.

So they tried me as an adult.

You know what it's like
to be 18 years old

and some skinhead's bitch?

Let's just go back over this.

Wieder testifies against you
and gets you prison time.

You go to his house, it's late
at night. You're angry.

You don't like this--I ain't no killer!

I just wanted my son back

and I thought maybe
Wieder could help.

Yeah, I went to his house.

I waited for his caretaker
to leave

and I went round the back.

I even made it
all the way inside.

Hello, Shadow.

But then
someone else came in.

Oh! Back so soon?

And then
shit just went bad.

I'm sorry.

I panicked and I left
before I could see who it was.

[Wieder] No!

Okay. So you never touched him.

Uh, but you don't... I'm telling you the truth!

Okay, Isaac.

You think I'm lying.

Well, ask Richard Finn.
He'd tell you.

You're gonna have
to remind me.

Um... who-who
is Richard Finn?

He came to see me
a few months back.

He's writing some book
about the murder.

- A book?
- Yeah.

Look, uh,
Isaac, I just don't see

that I'm gonna be in
a position to get involved.

You already involved, Roy!
This is on you.

You were there when I signed
that fucking confession!

Make it right!

I paid for what I did
when I was 18.

Make this shit right
or I'm dead!

The medication
can aid synaptic regeneration,

but you must keep
your mind active--

books, puzzles, anything
to stimulate your brain.

It was you!
It was you! Admit it!

You did this! This is you!

Well, ask Richard Finn.

Hey!

Roy?

Yeah.

What the fuck
are you doing here?

I was just
in the neighborhood.

Come in.

Hey.

Come in,
come in, come in.

Come in, come in.

You know, I can't remember
the last time I saw your face.

There you go, Roy.

You know when it was?

Ahh, it must have been
ten years ago

when those fucking sons
of bitches took your badge.

Yeah, I suppose so.

Listen, I hope you're not still
carrying around all that shit.

I mean, we all drank
on the job back then.

That accident,

that could have been
any one of us.

Cheers.

Cheers.

What's up?
You on the wagon or something?

Uh... well, yeah.

My-my doctor says it'll
mess with my medication, so...

You're sick, Roy?

No. I'm doing, uh,
like a clinical trial.

I've got Alzheimer's,

so they put these little
pulses into my fucking head.

It's supposed to
stimulate memory.

Jesus Christ, Roy.

If you hadn't have said
my name at the front door,

I wouldn't have known
it was you.

So you...

you have no memory
of you and me on the job?

- No.
- Fuck.

No, I-I read old case files

and it's all fresh
information for me.

Yeah, but it's not just
my time on the job.

My whole fucking life
is a black hole. I...

Fuck, man.

Remember Cat?

My wife.

Anyway, she, uh...

she passed last year.

Cancer.

- I'm sorry.
- Yeah.

Fucking cancer.

Department health fund

wouldn't pay
her hospital bills.

I had to sort it out.

Anyway, you didn't come here
for that shit.

What brings you by, Roy?

Okay. Uh... you remember a guy
called Isaac Samuel?

He got convicted for murder,

that thing that happened
at Waterford College

with a professor?

Ahh. You've been
talking to the lady

from the advocacy group.

I didn't call her back.

Oh, well, I took the call

and, uh, she said that Isaac
wanted to talk to me, so...

You spoke to Isaac Samuel?

Yeah. I went down
to the state prison

and we talked and, uh...

he tells me he didn't do it.

Come on, Roy. That's what
they all say on death row.

Yeah, I know, I know.

But I gotta say, Jimmy,
he was... convincing.

He mentioned another guy
that came to see him. Uh...

Finn.

Richard Finn.

Does that name ring
any kind of bell with you?

It was so long ago,
I-I-I don't remember...

Well, I read the file

and when we dusted that house,

Finn's prints are
all over the place inside.

All through the house.

So?

They were there. Who cares?

Richard Finn said
he wasn't at the house

the night of the murder.

That's in his statement, okay?

But we never followed it up.

We never corroborated
his whereabouts

and I just kinda found that
a bit strange.

Is that not strange?

What's your point?

I don't know.

I was just thinking
that you and me,

we'd maybe go and talk to him,

see what he has to say
for himself.

- Why?
- I don't know.

It's just a feeling.

That's all I got to go on
these days.

Besides, my doctor says
I gotta keep my mind active,

so what the fuck, huh?

Sure, Roy.

I'll look into it.

I still got a few friends
on the job.

Okay.

I'll be in touch, Roy.

♪ You ♪

♪ What do you see? ♪

Ah!

Yeah.
I found your boy.

I found Richard Finn.

The landlady found him
when she let the gas man in.

How did he die?

Overdose. Fentanyl.

Only one needle hole.

What?

He's not much of a junkie.

There's no track marks.

So he's a newbie.
Didn't know what he was doing.

- You alright there, Roy?
- He was there.

At the crime scene.

- Yeah. You said that.
- No.

No, not just his prints.

He was there the next morning
when we were there.

Is this what you're
remembering,

seeing him at the crime scene?

This guy's prints are
at the house. All over it.

He turns up to the crime scene
the next morning.

We talk to him.

His alibi for the time
of the murder

is that he was home alone.

And we don't follow it up.

We don't talk to his friends,

we don't talk
to his neighbors.

Isaac Samuel's prints
were all over the house.

He had motive
and he confessed.

It doesn't make sense.

Well, it doesn't matter now.
The dead don't talk.

Yeah, maybe.

But they do leave shit behind.

From ashes to ashes,
from dust to the dust,

so it must be.

Oh, God,
the spirit of all our joys,

the cause of our delights,

the glory of
our darkest nights.

Uh, Mrs. Finn?

My name's Roy Freeman.

I, uh...

I understand this is
a very bad time,

but can I just ask
a couple of questions

about your husband?

Uh... I'm her husband, Eddie.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Eddie.

Hi. Uh... is the other Mrs. Finn
around here somewhere?

Uh, no.

She and Richard weren't
exactly on the best of terms.

Now, is there something
I can help you with?

He was my brother.

I'm looking into a case

that your brother was
particularly interested in.

Recently he went to visit
a death row inmate

and he mentioned he was
actually writing a book

on the subject.

I wondered if you knew
anything about this.

I'm gonna get a ride
home with Aunt Jude.

- Yeah.
- Okay?

Okay.
- Okay.

I'm, uh... just over here.

Here.

I found it in his apartment.

He called it
The Book of Mirrors.

The title doesn't make
any sense to me.

Book of Mirrors...

Isaac Samuel,
that, uh, death row inmate,

he said this is about
the Wieder murder?

Yeah, well,
if Richard were here,

he'd probably call it
a crime memoir or some shit.

You read it?

Much as I could stomach.

It's a bunch of
self-aggrandizing garbage,

you ask me.

About some girl he was
obsessed with in college.

So, uh, you guys weren't close?

Look, I don't mean
to speak ill of the dead,

but Richard wasn't
exactly someone

that you wanted
to get close to.

How long had he been using?

Drugs?

No. No.

I never knew him
to be into drugs.

It just didn't seem his thing.
Then again, with Richard,

nothing was ever really
how it seemed.

I mean, he'd always
been a little bit off,

even when we were kids,

but this last year,
last couple of years, even,

something just
didn't seem right.

What was different?

I don't know. He was...

agitated, paranoid.

Just like he comes across
in that book.

Now, listen, if I were you,

I wouldn't waste
too much time on it.

Okay. I can keep this?

Be my guest.

"Memory is a fickle thing.

What we can recall,
what we can't.

Rare moments
that forever imprint,

banalities that don't.

Sufferings so painful,

they're buried deep
in our mind's recesses,

forgotten till time
digs it back up.

Whatever the memory, though--
good, bad, unremarkable--

it never comes back
all at once.

They're always
doled out in fragments

like pieces of a puzzle
you have to wait to complete."

"When you'll get
another puzzle piece...

that's anyone's guess.

Months, years,
could be a decade."

Richard Finn.

"Like it was with
the murder of Joseph Wieder.

Ten years of never
understanding it."

"Or as I now know,
misunderstanding it."

No.

"And all because of her.

Laura Baines.

She was one
of those rare unicorns

who knew everything
about everything."

Nobody made better use
of chromatic counterpoint

than Rachmaninoff.

"Double bachelor's in

art history and neuroscience."

...between lower cortisol levels
and their predisposition...

"A master's in math."

The beauty
of what Odlyzko showed

is that the distribution...

"Spoke five languages."

"She knew exactly who she was.

If only I did back then."

How's the punch?

The way you've been
skulking around,

waiting for your moment
to come and talk to me,

I figured you'd at least come up
with something better than,

"How's the punch?"

I wasn't skulking.

Not just skulking.
Leering too.

Oh! Skulking and leering.

You're making me sound like
I'm a serial killer.

Well, I can say
I knew you when.

- I'm, uh, Richard.
- I know.

It's on your chest.

Oh. Right.

And yet, uh, here you are,

nameless and shrouded
in mystery. Seems unfair.

"Oh, what's in a name, really?

That which we call a rose
by any other name."

Oh, great!

Another bardolater.

So, uh, what's your thesis
about?

Um... No! Don't tell me.

- Let me guess. Okay.
- Okay.

Uh... it's probably
something controversial.

- Probably.
- Yeah.

Okay, "Cross Gender Interference

in A Midsummer Night's Dream."

Boom.

Close.

"Memory Reconsolidation

Through Accelerated
Resolution Therapy."

Oh. One of the Bard's
lesser known works.

Um...

Psychology department.
I'm Laura.

What, you just like to crash
other departments' mixers?

Oh, uh, no,
I came with a friend.

Well, a colleague, really.
Professor Wieder.

I'm helping him
with some research

and he's administering
my thesis.

Right.

On memory reconstruction

through the accelerated
reconciliation?

"Memory Reconsolidation
Through..."

Yeah, okay.

No. Sorry. I'm just
being hard on you now.

It is a bit of a mouthful.

How many wishes do you get?

Oh.

It, uh... It belonged
to my grandmother.

I read somewhere

that, uh, when a woman
plays with her jewelry,

it means she's flirting
with you.

Oh! Really? Hmm.

Well, you shouldn't believe
everything you read.

Okay.

Choke me!

What?

Do it!

Harder!

Oh! Oh!

"From that moment on,

it was like we were
inseparable."

"For the next few months,

we did everything together.

She made me feel like
the best version of myself."

So... what do you think?

What do I think?

I think you're fucking
brilliant, Richard.

I mean, other people
need to read your work.

You should send it to...
to Harper's, The Atlantic,

all the big fiction rags.

"It was like I was
experiencing the world

for the first time
through her eyes."

- You're so talented.
- Thanks.

Just, uh, one second. Sorry.

Hey, Mom.

"But not everything
was looking rosy."

Uh-huh.

"A few months after we met,

my father
died of a heart attack.

My mother couldn't afford
my room and board.

Laura wanted to help

and that's how I first met
Professor Joseph Wieder."

Laura. Welcome!

Uh, sorry we're late.

- Not a problem.
- Hi.

Hello!

Had to finish a call with
our friend in DC, anyway.

- Ah! Mm-hm.
- Mm-mm.

You must be Richard.

Laura's told me a lot
about you.

All lies, I'm sure.

Exaggerations and half-truths.

Those I can live with.

Do we feel like martinis?

- Sure.
- Yes!

So, Richard, Laura tells me
you want to be a novelist.

Literary memoir, actually.

- Mmm!
- Oh?

I'm not familiar.

Well, you see,

a traditional memoir is
someone's life story.

The genre's not concerned
with questions of truth,

imagination, memory, style.

Literary memoir has
a fictional element, then?

No, no, I wouldn't call it
fictional, really.

- No.
- Oh. Sorry.

No, you see, uh, the author's

telling the truth of the story

as he believes it to be true.

They. As they believe it
to be true.

Self-perception
and personal experience

have a part in it.

Okay.

More wine?

- Please.
- Yes!

You know something?

Ten years from now...

we'll look back
to this dinner

and all we'll remember is

the Chateau Leoville Barton.

Oh, I doubt that.

The mind replaces memories
all the time.

It's innate to its wiring.

Especially if you drink
too much.

Do the thing.

Hmm?[Laura] Come on!

It's not a party trick.

Wait. What is she
talking about?

It helps explain
what we're working on.

Okay, then. Pick a memory. Hmm?

From your childhood. Anything.

Objects, moments, people.

Anything you can
easily recall?

Uh...

Okay.
Uh...

I remember we had
this green shag rug

and, uh...

...four goldfish

named after the guys in KISS.

That's a good memory.

How about something that
you wish you could forget?

Um...

Did your parents ever hit you?

No.

Did you ever get lost

in a shopping mall
or a big supermarket?

I mean... come to think of it,
there was this one time

we went to a toy store,
and, uh...

I... I couldn't find my mom.

Were you scared?

I mean, I haven't
thought about it

since it happened, but...

Yeah.

I looked for her everywhere.

And you eventually found her?

Uh... outside smoking.

Huh. It's... crazy.

I'd forgotten all that.

At the, uh... the heart
of our research, uh...

Joe's research

is the thesis that most people
experience trauma,

but the mind blocks
those memories

from ever actually presenting.

The trauma you
experienced that day

was your mother
abandoning you.

You were a child. Vulnerable.

And that fact that your mother
might actually harm you

is too traumatic to process.

So you suppressed it
from memory.

But the effects of that trauma

still linger
in your subconscious

and become part of the fabric
of who you are.

Wow. Okay.

That's...

Therapy with dinner.

Cheers.

Richard.

Would you come with me?

I've got something
I'd like to show you. Hmm?

Okay.

Okay.
That's a lot of books.

I can offer you $500 a week
to organize it.

To classify them
electronically,

when you can, until you're done,

which, if I had to guess,
won't be anytime soon.

I... I mean, I don't really
know what to say. Uh...

Laura told me about what
happened to your father

and the situation
that you're in.

So you might want to
just say you'll do it.

Thank you.

"Working for Wieder
was a dream.

New worlds opened up.

A curated collection of
the world's greatest thinkers.

For every two
I'd catalog...

I'd find myself
reading another.

Eventually, though, all
the time I spent at Wieder's

exposed me to something
I wasn't expecting."

- More books?
- Yeah.

The professor wants me
to donate them,

but there's some good shit
in here.

Say, uh, what's with the bats?

His dad's.

Collected them, I guess.

Signed too.

Willie McCovey. Al Kaline.

Ted Williams.

You wanna finish this?
I gotta work.

Yeah. Sure.

Thanks.

"A laugh."
Yeah.

"A hand grazing an arm."

"One thing's clear."

Hey, it's me.

I'm sorry, but I have
to bag on dinner tonight.

I'm stuck at the office
helping Joe,

but I'll, uh... I'll see you
when I get home.

"Laura Baines was more than

just Joseph Wieder's
research fellow."

I'm supposed
to be working.

Don't you have
a research paper due tomorrow?

Yeah.

I have so many patient
notes to transcribe.

Stop!

Oh, God.
Do you like that?

You know I like that.

[Laura] You know I do.

"Despite our time together,

I didn't know
Laura Baines at all."

"And when I found
that manuscript...

I realized
I wasn't the only one."

Are you hungry?

Oh, hey. I didn't know
you were home.

- What have you got there?
- I don't know.

I found it in, uh...

It was lodged in the back there
behind some books.

Oh. Huh.

Laura. So eager.

Oh.

Come on.
Before lunch gets cold.

Do you like to cook, Richard?

I don't really know how.

Well, you should learn.

Maybe you're good at it,
maybe you're not, hmm?

Experiment.

Mm-hm.

Laura likes a man
who can cook.

How are things going
between you two?

We're just friends.

Oh, come on.

I got the impression
you were more than that.

Is that what she told you?

I don't need Laura to tell me
something to know it.

I can sense things.

I've known her
for some time now.

Right. I mean,
I-I would never presume...

But, Richard, she brought you
into my life to help,

not to complicate things.

And that's what I'm here for,
to help.

Well, good.

To that end, then,

I think-- and these are
just my thoughts--

I think it would be better if
you stopped seeing each other.

Wait, what?

Nobody likes it when things

become overly complicated.

I'm going out of town to meet
some people about my book.

I imagine when I get back

you will have sorted out
some new arrangement.

Bon appétit.

"He'd crossed a line,

but I never sorted
anything out.

She sorted it out for me."

Babe?

You home?

Hey, uh...

I got you some stuff
from Bamboo House.

You know,
those dumplings you like.

Babe?

"She was gone.

And then the next day,
it happened."

"Professor Joseph Wieder
was found dead.

Beaten to death.

Some junkie
confessed to the crime."

"The Waterford College
community digested the tragedy

and I went on to become
a novelist of no repute,

toiling in obscurity."

"And Laura Baines?

I later found out that a week
before the murder

she went to see Susan Avery,

Wieder's contact at
the Department of Defense,

claiming ownership
over Wieder's work."

No, it doesn't work like that.

The US Government
commissioned the study.

The grant is for
Professor Wieder.

But I wrote it!

Look, Ms. Baines,

I don't know what arrangement
you made with Dr. Wieder,

but I recommend you take it up
with the university

or directly with him.

Oh, come on! This is my work

and he just
put his name on it!

- I'm sorry.
- Is that all you can say?

This is bullshit!

You can't just get away
with this!

"After the murder,
she disappeared.

It was like she'd fallen right
off the face of the Earth."

"Until the day
I saw her again."

"Until...
I saw her again."

Until you saw her again where?

Ah, you motherfucker!

You know what?
She's probably dead.

Her social security
number is still active.

She's got no address,
no social media presence,

no place of business, nothing.

Just one old pic
from high school.

So what?
She's a private person.

It's the same with
Wayne Devereaux,

Wieder's caretaker.

No phone number,
no job history.

I did a reverse address
search, nothing.

It's like everyone from
Wieder's life at that time

is now a fucking ghost.

You know what?

You're making me feel like
I want to be a fucking ghost.

The only one I've been able to
track down is Finn's ex-wife.

I'm gonna go and talk to her.

And what the fuck's
she gonna say to you?

I don't know.

She might know something.

You know? Finn might
have been onto something.

That's a lot of somethings
and maybes and ifs and buts.

Look, man,
if Isaac Samuel is innocent

and we've put away
the wrong guy,

come on.

That's a chance for us
to make that right.

- The guy confessed!
- I know he confessed, okay?

He admits he was in the house
on that night. He says that.

But he also says
before he could do anything,

someone else came in
to the house.

Who?

Who came in, Roy?

I don't know.

Well, if you don't
fucking know,

then I don't
fucking know either.

I'm gonna take a piss.

And he drops in another one!

This kid's on fire!

Hey!

What the fuck, man?

I'm sorry.

Hallucinations are
often a common byproduct

of the procedure.

But I've only ever seen
pictures of her.

Yeah, well,
it indicates recall,

even if it wasn't really her.

Same with the snippets of
memory you've reported.

It means your neural pathways
are starting to reactivate.

So I'm not just going
completely crazy, then?

Far from it.

You're actually what we'd call
a good result.

Treatment's working.

[man] Put that down!

Ms. Finn?

I'm sorry
to disturb you. I...

You the cop?

Roy Freeman, yeah. I called.

Yeah, I'm actually,
you know, uh...

...retired.

And so I'm not with
the police anymore.

Good. Never liked cops.

Doesn't make sense.

Richard was a lot of things--

paranoid, deluded,

real misanthrope.

But he wasn't a druggie.

So you think his death
was an accident, maybe?

I bet that cunt,
Elizabeth Westlake,

had something to do with it.

I'm sorry.
I-I don't know who that is.

Yeah. Neither did I
until recently.

Crazy-ass bitch.

They had some big argument

a few weeks before
Richard moved out.

Elizabeth... Westlake?

Yeah.[Roy] Yeah. Okay.

Richard started
drinking again.

And one night he comes home
screaming on the phone

all pissed.

Huh. No, no, no.

No, no, no.

No, no, no,
you listen to me, okay?

Don't you fucking lie to me!

He must have thought
I was asleep.

Okay, I-I know what you did.
Yeah.

And you're not gonna
get away with it.

You ever ask him
what the argument was about?

I tried not to talk to Richard
when he was like that.

Right.

So I waited
until he was asleep.

Next day, I called the number,

and got her voicemail.

What else do you know
about her?

Know what she does?
Do you know how they connect?

- No.
- Nothing?

You just called her
a crazy-ass bitch.

Look, all I know is
I never heard him talk

to anybody like that before.

Not even me.

You ask me...

she killed him.

Ms. Westlake.

Oh. Mr. Freeman.

Have we met?

I'm sorry. I have a condition.

I forget a lot of stuff.

Well, I'm sorry.

We met in passing
a long time ago.

And I'd read about your
accident in the newspaper.

Would you mind
if I asked you where?

- Where did we meet?
- I wish I could talk.

But I need to
get to the office.

That's okay.

I actually just
wanted to talk to you

about Richard Finn.

Now, there's someone
I'd like to forget.

Why is that?

I guess you've
never been stalked,

made to feel like you always

need to be
looking over your shoulder.

Oh. Yeah, well,
you know, uh...

he had it in his mind

that you had something to do
with Joseph Wieder's murder.

So you've spoken to him?

No, I haven't. Uh...

I tried to,
but he passed away.

- I see.
- Yeah.

He left something behind, though.

A memoir.

And I was wondering if you'd
like to have a look at it.

You could just tell me
what you think.

I've worked very hard to
forget that time in my life,

Professor Wieder's death,
and I'd rather not relive it.

Totally understand. Yeah.

You know, though, uh...

there is a man
who is on death row

for Joseph Wieder's murder

and his date's coming up
pretty soon.

So maybe you could just,
you know, take a look.

If I have a free moment.

Great. Thank you.
Thank you very much.

- Alright.
- Alright.

You have a great day.

You take care of yourself,
now, Roy.

This is it, man.

Mr. Devereaux?

Mr. Devereaux?

It's been a while.

Took me a second there
to place you,

but my story's the same
as it was then.

I just never got to tell it
to you 'cause...

you already had your man.

Well, if it's okay with you,
I'd like to hear it now.

Yeah? Why is that?

I'm just going back
through things.

Making sure all the right
boxes got checked,

you know?

Okay.

Well...

Professor Wieder
found me

when I was a shell
of who I was.

He helped me get back
on my feet.

He got me a job
working maintenance.

I mean, I remember it
crystal clear, man.

He was like a celebrity.

Everyone loved him.

He did
all sorts of work.

I don't know what exactly,

but there was always
people visiting.

Thank you so much.

Important people.

People from the government,

Department of Defense.

He was running a trial
for them

out of his department
at the college.

Trauma patients.

Testing a medication
he developed.

I guess I was
a perfect candidate.

I was first on the ground
in Iraq.

Saw my share of it
before taking a bullet.

I didn't know the real damage
till I got home.

Just couldn't get right.

Wieder found me at the VA,

said I fit his
research profile.

What kind of research?

Wayne, what if I told you

that through medicine
and suggestion

you could replace the memory
of your trauma of Iraq

with better memories

or perhaps erase the memory
of your trauma altogether?

Man, I'd say sign me up.

By activating opposite
sides of the brain,

we can release
the emotional experiences

trapped in our nervous system.

But before we make
that bad memory go away,

we have to fully confront it.

Breathe.

He said it was effective
for dealing with PTSD,

but that was only part
of the treatment.

Take one in the morning.

And one before bed.

The rest was that
medication he developed.

He said it could wipe
the slate clean.

But you just told me
about Iraq.

Does that mean
the treatment didn't work?

Oh, it did for a time.

Details faded.
No more panic attacks.

But those pills, man,
I mean...

...they had some fucking
mean side effects.

I didn't recognize
myself anymore.

I'd black out.

No idea where I was,
how I got there.

So you stopped
taking the medication?

Mm-hm.

Yeah, against
the professor's wishes.

Where's your car?

I came here by taxi.

You want a ride?

ASPCA in the city buys
my offcuts for dogs.

- You sure?
- Yeah, man. Seat's free.

Do you know anything
about Laura Baines?

Oh, man. I don't think anybody
ever really knew Laura Baines.

Her and Wieder were a thing, yeah?

I don't know nothin'
about that.

From what he said, she's just
a lab assistant, nothing more.

I mean, maybe
she'd like to be.

But if they were,
I never saw it.

Not that
I didn't see others.

I'd come over the house
every now and then,

to fix this and that.

There were a lot of women.

He kept a record of them too.

What kind of record?

He had one of those
old-school camcorders.

I guess he liked to
revisit his past exploits.

Did Laura Baines
ever call him out on it?

No, man. Only time
I heard them exchange words

was over some research paper
they were writing.

But the night he was killed,
her and Finn,

they came over to the house

and there was some kind
of argument.

We need to have
a rational conversation

without
all this accusation.

You're fucking lying![Laura] He's not lying!

- Oh! You wanna defend him now?
- I don't need defending.

What were they fighting about?

Fuck if I know,
Finn got real pissed off.

Know what?
Fuck the both of you.

- You deserve each other.
- Are you fucking kidding me?

He left
and I went to go out front,

talk to him,
maybe see what's what.

But he was just... gone.

Or he never left.

In Finn's statement,
he says he was home alone

at the time of the murder.

Well, I mean, I can only
tell you what I saw.

What about Laura?
You see her leave?

Yeah, later in a taxi.

So where'd you go?

My usual. Old Warren.

The bartender there, Diane,

even she was one of
the professor's girls.

He was a good man.

He lost his way,
that's all.

It can happen
to any one of us.

But it's like the Bible says.

"Do not judge
lest you too be judged."

Thanks for the lift.

Yeah. It's me.

He's home.

Diane Lynch.

A very, very interesting read.

Aren't you gonna invite me in?

Can I get you a water?

Maybe some whiskey.

I, uh... I don't have any
in the house.

Doctors. [chuckles]

I can't even remember
the last time I had a drink.

One of the few benefits of
your condition, I suppose.

You can't remember
the bad times.

Can't remember the good times, either.

That's too bad.

Must be hard--

no memory of friends, family,
past experience.

No context for who you are.
Your place in the world.

I can't imagine
what that's like,

to feel so lost.

So alone.

So what did you think
of Finn's book?

It was...

a bunch of bullshit.

So, you two were,
uh... never lovers?

No. That was just
his little fantasy.

People make things up
all the time.

Lie to protect themselves.

Manufacture histories to
appear more than they are

'cause the reality
is too painful.

- I spoke with Wayne Devereaux.
- Hmm.

He seemed to confirm
a lot of what's in there.

Wow. Another reliable witness.
Makes sense, though.

Lots of vets
who suffer from trauma

turn to escapist invention--
video games,

pornography.

So, did he invent
the research study

Wieder was working on too?

No. Wayne was a participant
in that.

But if I remember correctly,

he didn't respond favorably
to the protocol.

He resented
what it did to him.

He was prone to bouts
of anger, aggression.

You seem to know
a whole lot about him.

Well, I transcribed Wieder's
patient notes. All of them.

Sometimes you learn things
you'd prefer you didn't.

He said that
Wieder was intending

on publishing
his findings, so...

That's what you do.
You work for years

and then
you publish your findings.

But he died
before it was complete.

Do you feel he was giving
you the credit you deserved?

He died before we could
work that out as well.

A drug that can help people
forget past trauma.

Seems to me someone could make

a whole lot of money
out of that.

Now you think someone
killed him for money.

You may not have memory,
Mr. Freeman,

but you do have
quite the imagination.

People kill for a whole lot
of different reasons.

I reached out to Susan Avery,

Wieder's DOD contact.

I know who Susan Avery is.

She collaborated with Wieder
for decades.

So then you also know

that she's taken over his
department at Waterford.

Hmm.

You know, this conversation
would have been a lot better

with whiskey.

You used to love
a good drink, Roy.

Now call the play.

I'll give you five seconds
to unbuckle your guns.

One.

Two.

Three.

Enough fun.
Unbuckle them.

Harry,
Jackson, get the hardware.

Doc!

Anybody else
want to try their luck?

Get moving!

Come on, keep moving,
all of ya!

Oh, fuck.

911. What's your emergency?

Yeah, uh, I wanna report
a shooting.

Mr. Freeman, I'm going to
read you your rights.

You have the right
to remain silent.

If you refuse this right,

anything you say can be used
against you in a court of law.

You have the right
to an attorney.

If you cannot afford
an attorney,

one will be appointed to you
by the court.

We all done?

Case closed.

Another one off the books.

Let's go celebrate.
I'm buying.

Yeah. Let me catch you up.

I'll wait for you in the car.

If you cannot afford
an attorney,

one will be appointed to you
by the court.

Do you understand the rights
I just read to you, sir?

You know,
you're one lucky sonofabitch.

Those security cameras caught
him trying to run you down.

There's gonna be
a lot of red tape,

but, uh, it'll prove
it's self-defense.

Thanks for coming down.

Yeah, course.

You'd have done
exactly the same thing for me.

CSI found
two vials of fentanyl

in Devereaux's truck--

the same shit
that killed Finn.

They're calling it a homicide.

What?

Devereaux killed Finn?

For what?

Stop him IDing him
for Wieder's murder?

Sure. Makes sense.

No. No, it doesn't make
fuckin' sense.

In his own goddamn book,

Finn is pointing 100%
to Elizabeth Westlake,

not to Devereaux.

Something's not right.

Yeah, something's not right.

Something's not right
with you, Roy.

Isaac Samuel
committed this act.

Isaac Samuel confessed to it.

In one month,

there will be justice
and he will be dead.

And you can move on
and forget about all this.

Was I a good cop?

Were you a good cop? What?

What the fuck
are you talking about?

Was I good at my job?

Or was I a bad cop?
Was I a shit cop?

Was I a lazy sonofabitch

who just marked his card
and showed up?

Roy, you were one of the best.

You were a great cop.

My name's not on
any of the sign-offs.

What?

In the Wieder file.

My name is not on
any of the officials.

Not the incident report...

not the witness sheet,

forensic findings,
Samuel's confession.

None of it.

It's just your name...

on all of it.

What are you trying
to say, Roy?

I've been going back through
30 years of case files.

Thirty years.

Every one, every document,
every single one...

we co-signed.

My name right next to yours.

Except for this one.

Why is that?

I see what you're doing here,
Roy.

You've interviewed
everyone else.

Now you're gonna accuse me.

Jesus Christ, Roy,

you're some
fuckin' piece of work.

You come to my house
out of nowhere,

asking for my help,

and now you accuse me?

Fuck you, Roy.

Fuck you.

I ain't no killer!

You're in rare form tonight.

Where is she?

She won't be coming in
for a while, Roy.

- Okay.
- Uh-huh.

I'm out.

Oh, don't take my car, Roy.

Hey,
I will bring it back tomorrow.

What you did,
I will never forget.

Tomorrow.

We're not open yet.

Was there
an old gray-haired guy

used to run this place?

Eric? Eric O'Toole?

Yeah, he's retired. Is there
anything I can help you with?

It's my pop's place now.

Yeah, I'm looking for a woman
who used to work here too.

- Her name's Diane.
- Oh, you mean Diane Lynch?

Yeah, right. Any idea
where I could find her?

Yeah, just over
at Calvary Catholic.

She died about five years ago.

Oh, you don't say?

Fuck.

Was she a friend
or something?

Eh, she gave a deposition
in a case I was working on.

- I was just following up.
- So, you a cop?

Used to be.

Well...

On me.

My grandfather was a cop.

I just recently remembered
I actually, uh...

I like to do this.

Don't we all?

To Diane.

Hey.
You mind if I use your bathroom?

Just around the corner,
other side of the jukebox.

Thanks.

Hello?
Mr. Freeman?

It's Susan Avery
returning your call.

Blunt object to the head.

Um, Susan?
From Waterford College.

I have something for you.

You sure I can't get you
a glass of water?

No, no, I'm fine.

You said you had something
for me?

I don't know
where the original is.

Probably in storage at
the DOD, if I had to guess,

but that's the only copy
I had from my time there.

The Mirror Effect.

Wieder was quite proud
of this work.

He thought
it would help people

who were suffering
with their trauma.

- It's award-worthy research.
- It was never published?

At least not under his name.

I don't understand.

I gather
you haven't read her book.

She updated Wieder's research
with additional findings

she culled together
over the years

she was getting her doctorate.

So, she stole his work?

It happens all the time
in academic research.

Besides, who would protest?

- Wieder's dead.
- But you contracted it?

It's not as simple as that.

Before Wieder died,

Laura Baines came to me
with that manuscript.

Yeah, I heard
she wasn't happy.

She claimed the work
was hers.

Wieder wasn't giving her
the credit she deserved.

This is bullshit! He can't
just get away with this!

So, how did she publish it?

We'd been circulating it

in a number
of the VA hospitals,

but the department's
priorities changed.

A few years later
after I started working here,

I found her book review.

So... why didn't you
go after her?

There was nothing
to go after her for.

The project was shuttered.

Wieder used to live
around here, right?

Over on Chestnut. Apparently
the house is still empty.

Blunt object to the head.

Any sign of it?

No. Couple of bats
in the garage, though.

One's missing, right?

Caretaker there said they were
all signed by Hall of Famers,

so probably worth
a lot of money.

You wanna go talk to him?

- I will. Come on.
- Sir.

What you got there, Roy?

Never did find
the murder weapon

from the Wieder case, did you?

You put this here?

Put it back
in the hole, Roy.

Both of youse, get inside.

Why couldn't you
just listen to me?

You just couldn't let it go,
could you?!

What did you do, Jim?

What did I do?

I cleaned this
fucking mess up.

Ten years ago. Don't you
remember any of this?

- What Diane did?
- Diane?

She told me what you knew.

Diane Lynch?

Get away from me!

From your favorite bar.

She was one of
Wieder's patients.

Enough, Laura.

I told you
I would take care of this.

Oh.

You know each other?

I see.

So, you're in this together?

Fuck me.[Roy] No, I get it.

I get it, Jimmy.

Your wife got really sick.

You got deep in debt.

She comes along,
pays to you kill Wieder

so she can publish her book,

and you,
you railroad Isaac Samuel,

cover it all up.

No, no, no, no, no. I did not
pay him to kill Wieder.

We didn't meet until
after your accident.

My life was destroyed.

I was facing losing
years of clinical research.

The name "Laura Baines"

would always be associated
with what happened.

Then your partner showed up,
asking all kinds of questions.

I didn't know what he wanted,
but he wouldn't let up

and I was so scared.

Oh, fuck you, Laura!

So, I... left.

I moved, changed my name,
started over,

completed the research
and published my book,

hoping I would
never see him again.

But then, a few years ago,

Richard Finn
started poking around.

She's an author.
Elizabeth Westlake.

But she changed it.
It used to be Laura Baines.

She must have taken
Wieder's work after he died.

You ask me,
she's the one who killed him.

Then somehow,
your partner found me

and he turned up
with his hand out,

and this time, it's for money.

All this, all this is just
fucking bullshit, Roy.

I'm not lying.
He blackmailed me.

He said he'd go public with
proof my book wasn't my work

unless I paid him.

So, you killed
Richard Finn too

in case he got the same idea?

I didn't kill anyone.

She killed Finn the same way
she killed Wieder.

Finn's writing a book
about the murder

and he thinks
you killed Wieder.

You need to talk to him.

With other people's hands.

Okay.

I'm telling you, Laura,

you can fuck around
all you want, but I'm not...

Devereaux was
already a trained killer.

With Finn out of the way,
she got him to come after you.

He's home.

Wait until he leaves
and then take care of it.

She's a manipulator, Roy.

She's manipulating you
right now.

She gets people to come in
and do her dirty work

and then she just skates away.

She has to be
held accountable.

Hm, it's such a funny thing,
the mind,

the things it can live with

and the things
it just can't bear.

To get to die
ignorant of both,

now that...

Oh, that is
a special kind of bliss.

What I did...

I did for you.

Breaking news
in a decades-old murder

out at Waterford College

as fresh evidence
in the brutal killing

of psychology professor
Joseph Wieder

exonerates a man
incarcerated on death row.

29-year-old Isaac Samuel was
convicted of revenge killing

and was scheduled to die
by lethal injection

in just one month's time.

But information uncovered in
the wake of a double homicide

this past Tuesday
at Wieder's abandoned home

tells a different
kind of story.

Name three objects
in this room.

Chair, lamp... clock.

And three objects
not in this room.

Wine glass, newspaper, gun.

Today's date?

October 21st.

Your place of birth?

Larksville, Pennsylvania.

Your mother's name?

Florence.

Your father's name?

George.

Your middle school?

South Side.

Very good.

It seems the treatment's
been very effective.

It must be gratifying to be
able to remember again.

Yeah.

The former detective

who investigated the case
ten years ago,

Roy Freeman,

was instrumental in bringing
the responsible parties

to justice.

He uncovered a twisted
murder-for-hire plot

with roots in
the Washington County Police

and the Waterford
academic community.

Mr. Freeman,
a highly decorated detective,

left the police force
some years ago

following a car accident...

Professor Wieder
is a doctor. He took an oath.

Keep them from harm
and injustice.

Uh-huh.
Well, she took an oath too.

We both did.

To have and to hold,
in sickness and in health.

She came to see him
six months ago

about some, uh,
unresolved trauma.

You know,
I just don't believe you.

Her alcoholic father,
she was...

She was concerned
she was repeating patterns

in your marriage.

She was vulnerable
and he just took advantage.

I'm sorry to have to be
the one to tell you this.

Well, why are you? Huh?
Just for the fuck of it?

You want me to believe you're
some kind of good Samaritan

who just thought I should know
my wife is fucking her shrink?

Is that it?

In case you want proof.

And what's on that?

Your wife.

♪ Oh, ah,
the miseries I've had... ♪

Just let me go.

Get the fuck away from me!

Open the door, Diane.
Open the door!

Leave me alone!

Just let me go.

Oh! Back so soon?

I'm... I'm sorry.

No.

Jesus fucking Christ!

Roy!

Let's get it done.

♪ Well, it's moon rise
in the daytime ♪

♪ Yeah, it's darkness
crystal clear ♪

♪ In the desert
and down hallways ♪

♪ Somehow you always
pull me near ♪

♪ All dressed up in golden ♪

♪ I was a fool ♪

♪ I did what you told me ♪

♪ But there's no rest
for the lonely ♪

♪ Are the wicked
truly broken? ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Hey, hey, sweet darlin' ♪

♪ Hey, hey,
I hate to see you fallin' ♪

♪ Like a cannonball ♪

♪ Maybe you're no angel
after all ♪

♪ Now you say
that you don't know me ♪

♪ But you made me who I am ♪

♪ And it's not about
the feeling ♪

♪ Can you live with
what you've done? ♪

♪ What you've done ♪

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Hey, hey, sweet darlin' ♪

♪ Hey, hey,
I hate to see you fallin' ♪

♪ Like a cannonball ♪

♪ Maybe you're no angel ♪

♪ Hey, hey, sweet darlin' ♪

♪ Hey, hey,
I hate to see you crawlin' ♪

♪ Like a cannonball ♪

♪ Maybe you're no angel ♪

♪ Maybe you're no angel
after all ♪