All language subtitles for Profiler s01e22 venom 2.eng

Previously on "Profiler"

Time of death was about eight hours ago.

- From what?
- From these.

Could be a clue.

Shut up, trash! And don't be so stupid!

I just could swear that
she was gonna kill me.

She wanted to use you. She's taunting us.

A-t-r-a-X.

Atraxin, which is a protein and atrax-

Rubustrus. Atrax rubustrus.

It's a venomous spider.

- Hello?
Good-bye.

A man identifying himself as an F.B.I.
Agent came to visit

my client at his home. He asked
a few questions, he didn't

like the answers, and he beat
my client within an inch of his

life. Special F.B.I. Agent Jack Trades...
from your office.

Jack considers himself the
best, the ultimate taunter.

Maybe he doesn't like
this lady's competition.

There was a genealogy chart,
standard for deaths by an

unknown disease. It lists a
daughter, name and age unknown.

That's the killer.

Just what we need - two maniacs
making us look like fools.

All right. We'll get back to you.

Bad news. Hospital just
told Bailey they can't

save the new victim. All
they can do is watch.

God. At least the others were quick.

I think I'll pass either way, thanks.

Mr. Peety!

Mr. Rodell Peety!

- Remember to take it easy, all right?
- Yeah.

Jack's a step ahead of us. He
might have left a present.

- Keep thinking trip wires, brother.
- You got it.

Don't move!

Coop!

One shooter! I'm not hit!

You Peety? Put down the gun, sir.

There's two of us. You can't win.

You either. You shoot me, he dies.
You're about

to wake a timber rattler
out of its nap.

We get them thick as your wrists.

I'll thank you later. Right now,
we got a shotgun to talk about.

Mr. Peety. We're Brubaker and Cooper.

My partner called you, remember,
about the Poole case? We're F.B.I.

I looked at one of those badges yesterday
and got some brass knuckles to my jaw.

Ok. That man is an impostor.
He's part of the reason

we're here. So, why don't
you break open your

piece and let it down nice
and easy, and we can put

down our guns. Mister, my
arms are getting tired.

This so-called Agent Trades?

Jack Trades. Phony name. Serious son of
a bitch. He really whaled it out of me.

You're not the first. If
it's any consolation,

most of the rest aren't
still walking around.

He won't be, either, if I find him first.
And what's with these Pooles? How come

they're the most popular white trash
around? They've been dead ten years. Damn.

The lock was freshly cut. Jack was inside.

Don't touch anything, Mr. Peety.

Yeah, yeah.

So, no one has lived here since the Pooles?

You call this living?

What was the cause of death?

We didn't figure it out.

No autopsy?

I didn't say that.

We did the usual, nothing sophisticated.

Cremated the remains that day. It was the
safest thing to do. These people were

hemorrhaging through the eyes. For all
I know, some African virus took them.

In Arkansas?

Yeah. I sent four samples
of blood to the F.I.D.A.

Coop.

Took my temperature for a
week, closed the file.

Did you notify the daughter?

Couldn't find her. She run away
before then. You know where she is?

I'm thinking Oklahoma City.

That's Robin Poole.

Fax the photo to the V.C.T.F.,
Then get on a plane to Oklahoma.

And watch out for Jack. Bye.

We've got a picture of Robin
Poole coming down the wire.

I think we know what she looks like.

Well, imagine the luck of being
born looking like that mad woman.

Excuse me, Dr. Steinmetz. May
we have a word with her now?

Marjorie, we'd like to ask you a
couple of questions, if that's ok.

Uh! No. Just do something.

I'm dying. First...

I'd like...

to see a priest, please.

And-and my purse...

has my... rosary beads in it.

I... I'd like to be... alone.

Of course.

No hope?

I need to speak to her before she dies.

She's asked for the last
rites, Miss Logan, so

save your morbid curiosity
for another day, ok?

You can rescind your
cooperation with me, but this

is a public hospital. I
don't need your permission.

Well, you need the patient's permission.
She wants privacy.

- Bailey, let her talk to her.
- Why?

I'd like to see the effect
Christine's voice has on Marjorie.

You're thinking she's the
killer: A brilliant woman

taunting the F.B.I., flaunting
herself in our midst.

I don't know.

Code blue, room one.

- Is that her?
- That's her.

- Where the hell is she?
- Don't touch anything.

- Is this yours?
- No.

- Did you see her?
- No. Nobody.

Marjorie Brandt is near death. She
gets out of bed and walks away.

That wasn't Marjorie Brandt.
That was Robin Poole.

Robin Poole is nothing if not consistent.
Another damn puzzle.

It's too simple. There's
got to be something else.

Let's mop up every molecule
in this room, dupe the

hospital videotapes, and get
a rush on the forensics.

It's a power hypo. It's a
countermeasure for nerve gas. All you

need to be able to do is jam it
into your body... it does the rest.

She waited in agony until
she was nearly dead,

and then she gave
herself the antivenin.

She's really quite astonishing.

I mean, imagine stinging yourself
with a lethal venom, and

then handing yourself to the
very people trying to catch you.

Dares us to figure it out.

She's bored. We're moving too slow.

At least we can scratch Christine
Logan off the list of suspects.

Robin left us a clue in here,
and we've go to find it. Or

else, in twenty-four hours,
someone else is going to die.

Robin Poole in 1989...

and as she probably looks now...

and finally...
...a little makeup.

Ironically, I'm using Donald
Haste's software to do this.

So, Robin runs away in
1986 to parts unknown.

Her parents, Shirley and
Carter, die in 1987.

Her first kill.

1988, she surfaces in Oklahoma city.

We've got Cooper and Nathan there
now seeing what they can dig up.

We got APBs out: City, State, and Federal.

Her picture will be in
the evening news, in the

newspapers, and posted at
bus stops and post offices.

How'd she pull off the
Marjorie Brandt pseudonym?

Marjorie didn't even exist until two
weeks ago. We didn't have time to check

out her I.D. Till she was gone. Here's
the security video from the ICU.

She knew exactly how
much strength she'd

have to have left to
give herself that shot.

Perfect timing.

I'll say, considering
she was messing with

Chironex Fleckeri, or
the sea wasp jellyfish.

This venom is so toxic
that a solution diluted

10,000 times will kill
you in 5-10 minutes.

Robin survived for 3 hours.

She could have pre-inoculated herself with
the antivenin to slow down the poison.

But that would mean she
experimented with it first.

No second chance. One mistake: It's
blindness and respiratory failure.

- What is she saying?
- You're blind...

and you're stupid.

And then she just walked out the door of
the service exit right past the guard.

Hey.

What's the matter?

Frances. I'm at the end of my rope.

Well, is she ok? Well, where is she?

At home with Ellen.

I've been tossing around some other ideas.
What do you - ever hear of that place?

"The Dickens Academic Residence"? No.

"24-hour supervision and
lockdown capabilities"?

It's a little severe,
don't you think?

Well, it's got a great success
rate - good curriculum.

What am I supposed to do, Sam?

She's a danger to herself, and
I can't get through to her.

Well, Bailey, there are alternatives.
Look, I can make a

couple of phone calls, and
we can go over things later.

She turns eighteen in nine months.
If she doesn't get

her head on straight by then...
anything could happen.

Robin's trail - everywhere we
went, Jack had been there first.

Two different witnesses - both
said Jack flashed a badge, then

beat the crap out of them when
he didn't like their answers.

Two different descriptions
- the only thing

they had in common was
the man sweated a lot.

Latex disguises.

Why is Jack so interested in Robin?

He's intrigued by her.
Impressed, challenged.

Wants to prove that he's
smarter than she is.

I'd go further. Jack's all over Robin
because she reminds him of himself.

He's jealous.

We got these notebooks from one of
Robin's high school teachers in

Oklahoma. Her mentor. We talked
to her after Jack did, of course.

This woman sent Robin's
notebooks to a professor at

M.I.T. Apparently Robin had
developed some sort of

shorthand chemical formula.
Don't know why that's

important, but it got her a
full academic scholarship.

She went on to graduate Summa
cum laude with a double

major in biology and
chemistry in three years.

No cross-outs, no doodles, no wasted space.
No mistakes.

Not so far.

A woman of few words and many symbols.

Yeah. Anything about the
handwriting jump out at you?

All black ink, no smears.

Indicates a strong and
organized personality.

But look here, see the abbreviated
end sweep of her letters.

They suggest she's writing quickly.
She's impatient.

Well, that fits. Whatever she sets out
to do, she doesn't waste any time.

Why didn't she leave us
any dice or anything?

She always leaves us a clue.

It's a bar code. It's the same as
you get on the back of a can of

beans at the grocery store. You read
it with this little magic wand.

Why didn't forensics pick up on it?

Well, maybe they thought
it was for inventory.

But I couldn't find
another one in the room.

You get 17 Fern Haven.

That's headquarters for Earthtones,
which is an ecologically

savvy line of cosmetics. Chief
Executive: Melissa Cotton.

Ms. Cotton's in Brazil.
Goes there twice a year.

Some rain forest plant
preservation conference.

She's in Brazil?

Who's assuming her responsibilities?

Um, that would be marlin fender, head of
research. Should be in hothouse number 7.

Hazmat leader, this is Malone. We're
going to soft recon the structure.

Stand by at high ready. Secure the outside.
Let's go to work.

- Marlin Fender?
- Back here.

- We're with the F.B.I., Mr. Fender.
- F.B.I.? W-what's wrong?

Bailey. Bailey, take a look at this.

Did you leave this here, Mr. Fender?

Hazmat leader, deploy to hothouse 7.
Secure black and

white object, unknown origin.
Possible biohazard.

Something's wrong. Why would she
leave a clue and not a victim?

The CEO's in Brazil, Mr. Fender isn't hurt.

They're not the victim... we are.

In here!

Coop, no! Don't touch the door.

Robin's latest weapon:
Hapalochlaena maculata, or to

those who've had the
misfortune to handle it, the

blue ring octopus. It can
only live out of water

about half an hour. So she
must have cut it close.

What about the box we found?

Nothing yet. Magnetic resonance
shows that it's hollow. No venoms.

And she left us a little note stuck
between two of the segments.

"Do I have to draw you a picture?"

And she did. She's painted separate
segments of a design on all six sides.

So what's the problem? Twist it.

The problem is: You've got
six sides, right? Four

of them have eighteen
segments, the other two have

nine, which means the possible
combinations are almost endless.

It's a number with
over twenty digits.

Guess we'll skip lunch.

Which cosmetic companies
carry earthtone products?

It's pretty high-end stuff. No
animal testing and so forth. Ok,

you got amalgamated eastern,
beanblossom, and meadowgrace.

Pull up their logos.

It's Meadowgrace.

Meadowgrace -

- I'd seen it before.
- Independent wholesale distributorship-

Let me guess. Based in Atlanta.

Right. The company's the brainchild
of a local named Kendrick Lawton.

Let's go.

One minute I'm in my office
looking at fall color palettes,

and the next minute, three
men in moon suits show up.

Well, we're sorry for
the inconvenience,

Ms. Lawton, but we have
a killer on the loose.

Well, they told me that, but
it's a lousy excuse for

dragging me down here in
a decontamination van.

Did they tell you one of our victims
died bleeding from the eyes?

Uh, excuse me. Does the name Robin
Poole mean anything to you?

I don't know her as Robin
Poole or anyone else.

Our hazardous material
team has cleared your

office, your car, and home.
We think you're safe.

Oh, well, let's hope so. Now, I
have given a gallon of blood

here. Don't I at least get a
piece of fruit or something?

Thank you very much, Ms. Lawton. I will
make sure that you get something to eat.

If she didn't do anything
to Kendrick or didn't leave

a clue at Meadowgrace, maybe
she just disappeared.

No, she wouldn't just disappear.

Ok, what if she slipped up and got
poisoned by one of her own bugs?

Or maybe Jack's found her web.

Mi casa, su casa.

Now... let's play open house.

"Sorry, Jack"? Don't be sorry.

Blocks of cheese and sparkling grapes,
at your w-w-w-dot-jackotrades-dot-com.

I'm sorry for the wake-up call. Jack
just came on-line at 11:43 P.M.

Looks like he's got his own web page.

He's on the internet?

He's gone public.

Very public. Anybody with a pc and a
modem can make a connection. I found

the results of his search for Robin's U.S.
Customs records. Here's what I

get when I click on U.S. Customs. Her
permits are available, but her address

deleted, and in its place is this
message from Jack: "Finders keepers."

He won't tolerate Robin getting ahead of us
or him. He's reminding us how clever he is.

George, can you trace the
origin of his web site?

It's already done, but here's the problem. You know,
an internet site is nothing more than a bunch of

computer files, and it doesn't matter where the
computer itself is. See, he's moving every ten seconds.

Norway, Tahiti, Billy's
internet game zapper in

Tampa, Department of Justice, Atlantic P.D., U.S.
Customs, our front lawn. He's like hacking into

everything, and he's leading
us right where he wants us.

Ok, so how do we get to him?

We don't, unless we can get to
him while he's uploading.

Well, find a way, George. Find a way.

Yes.

You know, if I take that
job in Charlotte, I might

not see you for six months,
maybe even longer.

You can come back on weekends.

Yeah, but if I didn't,
would you come visit me?

Nope.

Sure.

Yeah? Hey, you don't sound too convincing.

Hey, I'm the one massaging your feet.
What more commitment do you want?

Come on. Come on, no, I'm serious.
I'm serious. I don't

know if I want to leave you
for six months, but...

I mean, if you're not
serious about this and

this is just... this,
I'd like to know.

- Ok.
- Hey, wait a minute.

- No.
- Come on, Angel -

No. Wait. You're taking too long
to answer, which, as far as I'm

concerned, is an answer. I think
I'm going to go home, okay?

Wait a second.

Girl, I don't look for your love /

I don't see the stars above /

I look for your eyes /

just your eyes / l

lovelight burns in your eyes...

Now I see you... now I don't.

What's that pounding?

Music. She went to her
room about an hour ago.

Well, I'll be home in about a half hour.
Just do me one more

favor, Ellen. Will you stick
your head in, see if she's ok?

Ok. I'll see you in a bit.

Ok. Thanks.

- We're closed!
- Now you're open!

Your father called. He'll
be home in half an hour.

What, would you like me
to throw him a parade?

And turn off that earthquake
that you call music!

Eat glass!

Hey, Angel. So, you changed your mind.

- Frances? You ok?
- Look at this. My one-way ticket to hell.

Ah, just a sec.

You want something? Something to eat?

No.

Here. Where'd you get this?

Super dad's personal effects.

Dickens. It's not exactly a trip to
paradise, but it's not the worst.

Good staff, facilities are first class.

Look, John, I need your help.

- If he makes me go there, I'll, um...
- You'll what?

I'll bail.

He is not sending me to death row. I
would rather live on the streets.

Frances, you hung out on the
streets, then you went home

to cotton sheets and a warm
meal - you never lived there.

I could.

Come here. Sit down.

Two kinds of girls on the
streets: Those who have been

hurt and those who get you
don't want to go there.

Hello, John.

You told him I was here?

How could I have? I didn't
know you were coming.

I knew where to find you, Frannie.
Come on, let's go home.

You know what, John? You suck.

Thanks, John.

- No, I couldn't sleep.
- Me, neither.

Yeah? Have you eaten yet?

You asking me out, lady?

Hmm, I guess that's what I'm doing.

Tell you what? Why don't, uh,
why don't you pick me up in

like half an hour in darkroom number seven.
How's that sound?

You got it.

Ok. I'll see you then.

Ouch! Ohh!

Sam?

Sam!

Open the door, Frances.

Frances, open the door!

Open the door, Frances!

Where's my gun?

Where's the gun, Frances?

I found the brochure.

And you know what? I'm not going!
I would rather die, okay?

Stop!

Don't you say that!

- Don't you ever say that!
- Stop!

Don't you ever say that!

Okay. Okay. Let's stop this, okay?

I can't go there, daddy.

Give me the gun, Frances.

Daddy, at least send me to mom, please?

Give me the gun, Frances.

Anything but that place. I can't go there.
I can't go there.

That place might be good for you, Frannie.

No!

Hello?

Why didn't you help me when I asked?

This is all your fault.

Frances?

Bailey? Bailey?

Tell me what you know.

Nine-millimeter. Full-jacketed
slug at close range.

When did he lose consciousness?

That's how I found him.
He hasn't said a word.

He lost a lot of blood, man.

- We've got a bleeder!
- Have him cross-matched for O.R.

Ready pre-op for x-rays.

I can't see. I can't s-see.

My eye.

Robin Poole's got Sam. She was supposed to be
in her darkroom. I went there, found a map

with twenty-five pins that are stuck in what
look to be addresses. They're all over town.

I'll put out a scramble to Atlanta P.D.

Every car they got, man. We need a total
blitz. I'll roll to the one I'm closest to.

Robin used a spider. It looked like the same
kind she used to kill Marilyn Weathers.

Hey, give me those coordinates, Coop.
I'll duplicate

it on the computer,
'cause maybe it's a code.

Ok. Then get Bailey on the line.

Can't. He's M.I.A. So is Darla Turner.
About an hour ago, the

agent on surveillance duty woke
up with a dart in his neck.

What the hell is going on, George?

All hell is breaking loose, is what.

- You ready?
- Yeah, go.

Ok, 1325, what looks to
be English Center Drive.

English Center

2-1-2...

Somebody there?

Is somebody there?

I can't see...

I - I can hear you. I - I can't see.

I... I can't - I can't see you.

Please don't stop talking to me. I can't
- I can't

- I can't see you. I-I can hear you.
Just...

Samantha... he's a nasty.

Don't worry about the spider bite.
Dr. Trades has given you the antivenin.

What have you done to my eyes?

What have you done to my eyes?

It's just a little home-brew washy wash.

I tested it myself. Relax.

It's not forever. Those big, beautiful
baby blues will be just fine.

What - what do want from me?

I just want you to appreciate me. I
deserve your admiration, don't you think?

My admiration? Is that
why you killed all those

people, because you
wanted my admiration?

It was necessary.

Uhh! Why me, huh? Why did you pick me?

Easy. Samantha, I knew from the
first moment that I saw you.

You were just another case. You were
just - you were just my bad luck.

But are you absolutely certain?

Nobody understands me the way
that you do, Samantha. Nobody.

Is that what you want?

You want to be close to me?

You want to be closer? Well, then,
why don't you take my hand, huh?

Give me your hand! Give me your hand!

Shut up!

This is Agent Cooper. The first address was
a phony. How are you doing, Atlanta P.D.?

We got five patrols out
there, Coop, but all

they get is empty lots and
burned out buildings.

Ok, I've input the numbers from
all the addresses. There's

got to be a way one of her
formulas applies to them.

Agent Cooper, this is Christine Logan.
I'm at the Command Center with George.

What do you got, Logan?

Well, I've been studying Robin's
chemistry journals. I got

to the last page. It's not her handwriting.
It's a forgery.

Whose writing is it?

I don't know. It's not a venom. It's
the essential oil in rose petals.

- Jack.
- He's got Sam!

Why is he imitating Robin's M.O., George?

He's beating her at her own game.
Which is why he left the

map. Jack wants us to find Sam.
He's giving us a chance.

I hate the competition.

People will find me.

This may be difficult for you to
understand, Samantha, but nobody

is even thinking of you right
now except for little old me.

Well, if you're not going to kill me,
then what are you going to do with me?

Nothing. I just want you to
walk a mile in my shoes.

I told you and told you and
told you, Robin, to shut up!

Hey. Hey, don't make me hurt you!

- Hi, hi.
- Sam?

Angel. Oh, I'm sorry. She can't come to the
phone right now. She's up to her eyeballs.

Where's Sam?

What-what have you done with her?
Where's Sam?

Fraley.

George, it's Angel. I just
called Sam on her cell phone and

Jack answered, and he hung up on me.
I know it was him.

Damn it! There's no way to trace it.
Is Chloe ok?

Uh, yeah, she's-she's fine. She's here.

He's still in the operating room.

I'll be honest with you,
it doesn't look good.

George, you there?

Yeah. Yes, I'm here. Uh, any
idea who the shooter was?

Well... looks like Frances
with Bailey's own gun.

I'm heading out to look for her.
Is Sam there?

Brace yourself. Jack's got her.

Jack?

Well, it's... we got a manhunt
throughout the city. I don't

know, I thought maybe you
would have heard the chatter.

I - I was off the air.

Wait a second. Wait, he's putting
pictures of her on the internet.

Time-stamped like five minutes ago.
She's alive.

Where is she?

I don't know. I can't tell.

I'm heading out to my car. As soon as -
as soon as you get a location, I'm there.

Stumped? Here's a hint:
It's a puzzle, like the

dice, but it's a kid's
puzzle, you morons.

Ok, ok, ok, maybe the damn thing is
a puzzle. Just give me a minute.

You'd send us a puzzle to play with?
You'd do that, wouldn't you?

The gibberish in the back's
going to make sense, right?

- Ok...
- What is it?

2... looks like a 3... 2... 3... 1... 7...

23 171st street, is that a real address?

Checking.

Uh... yes. It's a loft downtown.

That's where she is. I'm gone.

Ok. I'll get you backup.

Company's here.

When we meet the next time, we'll both
be on the same team. Until then...

Sam!

Sam?

Coop? Coop?

I'm here. Where are you?

I'm over here.

- You ok?
- Yeah. He put something in my eyes.

Thank god.

He put something in my eyes. I can't see.

Let's go! Move!

Go! Go!

Where is he?

He fell. I-I heard him-I heard him fall.

Ok. Ok. Everything's ok. Thank god.

Look, let's get out of here. You want to -

Police! Freeze!

Hey, hey! I'm Nick Cooper. I'm with the
V.C.T.F. Everything's under control.

Lou Handleman, Atlanta Homicide.

Dr. Waters, you ok?

How'd homicide get the call?

I heard it on the radio the V.C.T.F. was
in a tangle, I thought I'd check it out.

It was Jack. He put - he put some kind of
chemical in my eyes, and he blinded me.

Where is he now?

I hit him. He fell down the -

He's down this shaft.

What do you got down there, guys?

It's a woman. She's had it.

No, no, it - it was Jack. The woman,
she's over there. I-I heard her.

The woman against the
wall's our prisoner.

Could you please take her
into custody for us?

Hey!

Sure. We could start there.

Hey, Captain! This lady's I.D.
Says she's Turner - Darla Turner.

Ohh! Quit it!

No. No. No, no, it-it-it was Jack. I
- Don't touch me! I know what I saw!

I thought you said you couldn't see.

I-I couldn't, but...

I-it's starting to wear off. I don't -

Don't you listen to her! I saw her
push that lady down the elevator!

Get her out of here! That's ridiculous.

Sam, we got to get you someplace
and get you checked out.

No, I want-I want to talk to Bailey.

Bailey's out of the loop right now.
I'll explain it to you in a minute.

Hold it here! I need some answers.

You'll get some answers! You relax!
This is our case. We'll sort it out.

Hey, captain! This lady's in
handcuffs, F.B.I.-Issued cuffs.

You'll want to call a lawyer, Dr. Waters.
I'm taking you in on suspicion of murder.

Come on, Sam.

He said I'd walk a mile-
- Walk a mile in my shoes.

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