Original subtitles

Neighbors heard them screaming at each other...

like, for two hours. And there's nothing new.

Then they heard the gun go off. Both barrels.

A crime of passion.

Yeah.

Just look at all the passion on that wall.

This is a done deal. All but the paperwork.

The kid see it?

What?

The kid?

What fucking question's that?

We're all gonna be real glad...

when we get rid of you, Somerset. You know that?

Always these questions with you.

"Did the kid see it?" Who gives a fuck?

He's dead. His wife killed him.

Anything else, it has nothing to do with us.

Detective Somerset?

I'm Detective Mills.

Lieutenant, I apologize for interrupting.

I get in town 20 minutes ago,

they dump me here.

Look...

Mills?

Why don't we find a bar or someplace, you know. Sit and talk.

I'd like to get to the precinct, if it's all the same.

You know. Not much time for this transition thing.

I'm gonna ask you something,

when we spoke on the phone before.

Why here?

I don't follow.

Well, all this effort to get transferred.

It's the first question that popped into my head.

I guess the same reason as you.

Or the same reason you had before you decided to quit, yeah?

You just met me.

Maybe I'm not understanding the question.

It's very simple.

You actually fought to get reassigned here.

I've just never seen it done that way before.

Thought I'd do some good.

Look. It'd be great if we didn't start out...

kicking each other in the balls.

- But you're calling the shots. Lieutenant. - Yes.

I want you to look and I want you to listen. Okay?

Now I wasn't standing around guarding a Taco Bell.

I've worked homicide 5 years.

- Not here. - I understand that.

Well, over the next 7 days, Detective,

you'll do me the favor of remembering that.

Se7en

Monday

Hello.

Okay.

Say it again?

I thought we moved here to get away from tractor pulls.

Serpico's got to go.

Yeah, well, you might want to get rid of this little...

crusty, this eye, Serpico.

- Did you get it? - Got it.

Good.

Coffee? No?

Nothing's been touched. Everything's like I found it.

What time was death established?

Like I said...

I didn't touch anything...

But he's had his face in a plate of spaghetti

for 45 minutes now.

Wait a minute. No one bothers with vital signs?

Did I stutter? This guy ain't breathing...

unless he's breathing spaghetti sauce.

- That's how it's done here? - I beg your pardon, Detective.

This guy's sitting in a pile of his own piss and shit.

If he wasn't dead he would've stood up by now.

- Alright. - Thank you, officer.

Thank you.

I wonder.

What exactly was the point of the conversation

you were about to get into?

Don't know.

How many times has Barney Fife found dead bodies

that weren't dead.

Drop it.

Somebody phone Guinness. I think we've got a record here.

"Better Home and Gardens"

Spaghetti sauce

Who said this was murder?

No one.

Guy's heart must be the size of a canned ham.

If this isn't a coronary...

Well... I don't know.

How about that.

We had this case once...

guy dead on the ground...

knife in his back. Gotta be murder, right?

Fuck!

Anyway, big insurance policy involved, yeah? So the guy...

took the tip of the blade...

stuck it in his own shoulder blades.

He must've screwed up a few times 'cause there was...

- multiples back there. - Could you please be quiet.

Wait a minute.

What?

Got a bucket here.

What's in it?

Oh god!

Fucking vomit.

Any blood in it?

I didn't see any. Help yourself.

Are you thinking it's poison?

Oh, wonderful. Very moody.

Are you thinking it's poison, Somerset?

You girls have got forensics waiting outside.

I don't know if we'll all fit, though.

There's room. Light's the problem.

How are you?

Detective Mills, would you go help the officers...

question the neighbors.

What?

And send in forensics on your way out, please.

He's dead.

Thank you, doctor.

You've seen my files, right? You've seen things I've done?

Nope.

I did my time on door-to-doors and walking the beat.

I did that shit for a long time.

- And? - My badge says... "Detective".

The same as yours.

Look, I made a decision.

I had to consider the integrity of the scene...

Couldn't worry whether you thought

you were getting enough time on the playingfield.

Hey, man...

just don't jerk me off. That's all I ask. Don't jerk me off.

He's been dead a long time,

and I can tell you it's not a poison.

Oh, man.

How does someone let themselves go like that?

It took four orderlies just to get him on the table.

But how'd the fat fucker fit out his front door?

Please. It's obvious he was a shut-in.

Look at this. See how big this stomach is?

And the strange thing is stretches.

Look at the size of the cardiac orifice, where the food...

I see that, but it means nothing to me.

Okay, he's got lines of distention... across the duodenum.

And the interior wall's ripped open.

This man ate till he burst?

He didn't really burst. Not all the way.

He was hemorrhaging internally.

There was a hematoma in the rectus and...

- the transverse abdominous muscles. - He did die by eating?

Yes and no.

What about these bruises up here?

I haven't figured that out yet.

Gun pressed against his head?

Pressed hard enough, sure.

Fuck, yeah.

Marks from the front side flush with the muzzle.

Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a homicide.

Killer put a bucket beneath him, kept on serving.

Took his time too.

Coroner said this could have gone on for more than 12 hours.

Victim's throat was swollen, probably from the effort...

and there was definitely a point when he passed out.

That's when the killer kicked him...

- and he burst. - Sadistic fucker.

When you want somebody dead, you drive by and shoot him.

You don't risk the time it takes to do this...

- unless the act itself has meaning. - Come on.

Somebody had a problem with a fat boy

and decided to torture him.

Simple as that.

In the grocery bags...

we found two receipts. That means,

the killer stopped in the middle of everything ...

and made a second trip to the supermarket.

So?

Man, it's his thing. I've been out in the rain all day.

- This is beginning. - We've got...

one dead guy, not three.

No motive.

Don't even start that big brain of yours

cooking on this, alright? Please.

I'd like to be reassigned.

What?

What the hell are you talking about?

This can't be my last duty.

It's just gonna go on and on.

You're retiring.

Six more days you're all the way gone.

Won't be the first time you've left unfinished business.

Those cases were taken as close to conclusion

as humanly possible.

- And if I may speak freely? - We're all friends here.

It's not being his first assignment.

Come on. I knew it. This is not my first assignment, you dick.

It's too soon for him.

I'm right here. You can say that shit to my face. Captain?

It's too soon for you.

Captain...

we can just talk in private?

Obviously this isn't work. This is a personal thing...

Just shut up, Mills.

Look, I don't have anyone else...

to put on this and you know it. This is metro...

- You don't just get to swap. - Give it to me.

- Say what? - Yeah, he doesn't what it, fuck him.

Sorry, but see you later, have a nice time. Give it to me.

No, I'm putting you on something else.

Go on, Mills, just go on.

I'm sorry, old buddy, but it looks like you're stuck...

cleaning up the fat man.

Tuesday

Murder has a new uptown address!

Attorney found murdered

Quiet down.

Alright, calm down. Calm down.

Quiet down.

Now, here's how it's going to be...

I'll answer questions for 10 minutes and 10 minutes only.

If those questions do not comes in a calm,

sane, orderly fashion

I'm on my way out.

Detective? Detective?

- Can I have a moment of your time? - No.

I won't discuss the details of this ongoing investigation,

so don't even bother asking.

There he is. That's the guy.

It looks like we won't be eating dinner.

Who is this kid, anyway? Hotshot.

What have you guys got for me?

Nothing yet, boss.

Why don't you guys go get a coffee, huh?

We have this breaking story.

We're going to live downtown where the defense attorney...

Eli Gould was found murdered this morning.

District attorney Martin Talbot

is taking questions from reporters.

Conflict of interest between your office...

That's ridiculous to the point of being offensive.

There is no conflict whatsoever,

and any claim there could be is irresponsible.

Now hold on.

Let me address that.

I've just come from a meeting of law enforcement officials

and they assured me, they have their very best men on this.

This will be the very definition...

of swift justice.

Greed

Pardon me, George.

Somerset.

Come in.

Have you heard the news?

Nope, haven't heard.

Eli Gould was found murdered this morning.

Someone broke into his law firm and bled him to death.

Wrote the word "greed" on the floor.

- Greed? - Yeah, in blood.

Mills is heading up the investigation.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Could you not do that, please?

Well. Good for him.

What the hell will you do...

with yourself out there, Somerset?

Oh, I'll work, maybe on a farm. Fix my house.

Don't you feel it?

Don't you feel that feeling?

You're not going to be a cop anymore.

That's the whole idea.

I don't think you're leaving.

Hell, you can't leave all this.

Guy's out walking his dog.

Gets attacked.

His watch is taken, his wallet.

And while he's lying...

on the sidewalk helpless...

His attacker stabs him in both eyes.

This happened just last night about 4 blocks from here.

Yeah, I read about it.

I don't understand this way anymore.

It's the way it's always been.

- Maybe you're right. - You do this work. You're made for it.

And I don't think you can deny that.

Maybe I'm wrong.

The coroner sent this down for you.

Found them in the fat boy's stomach...

mixed in with the food. Looks like little pieces of...

- plastic. - Set them on that desk, please.

They were...

fed to him.

Lord.

Gluttony

This was found on the wall behind

the refrigerator at the obesity murder scene.

"Long is the way

and hard, that out of hell leads up to light."

It's from Milton.

"Paradise lost."

Alright...

I'm confused.

It means that this is beginning.

Gluttony

This was found behind the same refrigerator...

written in grease.

There are 7 deadly sins, Captain.

Gluttony...

greed...

sloth, wrath...

pride, lust...

and envy.

Seven.

Hold on.

This is not even my desk.

You can expect five more of these.

Now wait a minute.

I can't get involved in this.

Somerset.

He wanted it.

Damn!

I'm all over it.

Where are you headed?

Far away from here.

Thanks, George. How are you doing?

- I've got a few things to look up. - Okay.

Sit where you'd like.

How's everybody?

Hiya, Smiley.

Come on George, the cards are getting cold.

Duty calls.

Gentlemen, gentlemen...

I'll never understand.

All these books...

a world of knowledge at your fingertips...

and what do you do?

You play poker all night.

Hey, we got culture.

Yeah, we got culture coming out of our ass.

How's this for culture?

Chaucer Canterbury Tales

Dante Divine Comedy

Victim forced mutilate himself.

Mills: You may wanto to check the following books re:

7 Deadly sins.

Dante's Purgatory, The Canterbury Tales,

The Parsons Tale, Dictionary Af Catholicism

Even children slain!

You know, Smiley...

You're really gonna miss us.

I just might.

Plan of Dante's inferno

The earthly paradise

Wednesday

Fucking Dante.

Goddamn poetry-rhyming faggot piece of shit.

Fucker.

Good work, officer.

Thank you, Lord.

Oh, oh, sorry.

Be out of your way in a second.

- You want your chair? - No. You go ahead.

Phone.

It's package deal. Comes with the office.

Mills.

Honey...

Are you okay? Something wrong?

You dingleberry,

I told you not to call me here when I'm working.

Yeah. Why?

Why?

Okay.

It's my wife.

Sorry?

She'd like to speak to you.

This is Detective Somerset.

Well, yes, it's nice to talk to you too.

I appreciate the offer, but...

Well, in that case I'd be delighted.

Yes, thank you very much.

Bye.

Honey, what...?

Well?

Sorry?

I'm invited to late supper at your apartment. I accepted.

At my... how's that?

Tonight.

Hello, men.

- Hi, loser. - Hi, idiot.

That's Tracy. Tracy...

- Somerset. - Hello.

Very happy to meet you. I've heard a lot about you.

Except of course your first name.

It's William.

Well, it's a good name...

William.

William, I'd like you to meet David.

- David, this is William. - Alright, I'll be right back.

- How are the kids? - Good. They're in the room. Come on in.

Aw, good dogs.

How are all the good dogs? How are you, Pretty?

- Smells good. - What?

Yeah, I mean, thank you.

Please have a seat, if you like.

- Would you like something to drink? - No. Thanks. I'll wait.

You're gonna throw that anywhere.

You have to excuse all this mess.

We're still unpacking.

I understand you were high school sweethearts.

Pretty hokey, huh?

You know something?

I knew on our first date that this was...

- the guy I'd marry. - Really?

He was the funniest guy I've ever met.

Really?

It's kind of rare nowadays.

I mean, that level of... commitment.

Oh, don't worry.

I won't wear it to the dinner table.

No matter...

how often I see guns, I just can't... get used to them.

Same here.

- Why aren't you married, William? - Tracy.

What the hell?

I was close once.

It just didn't happen.

It surprises me.

It really does.

Well...

anyone who spends a significant

amount of time with me finds me disagreeable.

Just ask your husband.

Very true.

Very, very true.

So how long have you lived here?

Too long.

How do you like it?

You know...

takes time. Settle in...

It'll be good.

Well, you get numb after a while

There are things to any city...

The subway.

It'll go away in a minute.

This real estate guy.

Fucking piece of... sorry, honey.

He shows us the place a few times, I think he's good.

He's efficient. Tracy really likes him.

Then I start wondering why he'll only bring us here

for 5 minutes at a time here.

We found out the first night.

The soothing, relaxing...

vibrating home, huh?

I'm sorry.

Yeah, alright, laugh it up.

I don't know why you're laughing.

Alright, already.

The guy had to get into the building...

before the office was closed and the security tight.

Gould would have been working late.

I'm certain.

He was the biggest defense lawyer in town.

- Infamous, really. - Body was found on tuesday morning.

The office was closed on Monday.

Which means he could have gotten in on Friday.

Laid low till the cleaning crew left, then had...

his way with Gould Saturday, Sunday, maybe Monday.

Look at this.

Gould was bound, right arm free.

He was handed a butcher's knife.

Check out the scale.

A pound of flesh.

"One pound of flesh"

"no more no less no cartilage...

no bone....

but only flesh". "Merchant of Venice."

Didn't see it.

"His task done... and he would go free".

I tell you that chair was...

- soaked through with sweat. - Of course.

The killer would have wanted Gould to take his time...

deciding which cut to make first.

Imagine it.

There's a gun in your face.

Which part of your body is expendable?

How about the love handle?

Cut along the side of his own stomach.

All right, let's take a fresh look at these.

Even though the corpse isn't there, but...

look through it. Edit out your initial shock.

The trick is to find one item, one detail and focus on it...

until it's an exhausted possibility.

I'm going to get another beer. Beer?

Wine, please.

He's preaching.

Punishing.

The sins were used in medieval sermons.

The 7 cardinal virtues, and the 7 deadly sins...

- used as teaching tools. - Yeah. Like in...

- "The Parson's Tale," and Dante. - You read them?

Yeah.

Parts. Hey, remember in "Purgatory"...

Dante and his buddy climb up the hill

and check out all the sinners?

- The seven terraces of purgation. - Yeah, right.

But there pride comes first, not gluttony.

For now let's consider...

the books as the killer's inspiration.

The sermons were about atonement for sin.

These murders are like forced attrition.

Forced what?

Attrition's when you regret your sins,

but not because you love god.

Because someone put a fucking gun in your face.

No fingerprints.

Nope.

- Totally unrelated victims. - Yep.

And no witnesses of any kind.

Which I don't get...

because the fucker had to get back out.

In any major city, minding your own business is a science.

The first thing they teach women in rape prevention,

is never cry for help.

Always yell, "fire!".

Nobody answers help.

You holler "fire," they'll come around.

That's fucked up.

He must have left another puzzle piece.

You know what? Thank you for talking this out,

but I got to sleep.

Walk the dogs.

This is just to satisfy my curiosity.

I'm still leaving at the end of the week.

Oh, shit. No, wait, wait.

Gould's wife. She was out of town at the time.

- So this means she saw something. - What if it's a threat?

I put her in a safe house. She wasn't too happy about it.

What if it isn't something she has seen...

but something she's supposed to see

but hasn't been giving the chance?

Yeah, okay. What?

I don't know.

But that's the one thing.

Sign us in.

Got to see Mrs. Gould.

We want you to have a phone line, but...

Mrs. Gould?

Mrs. Gould, I'm sorry. I truly am.

I don't understand.

Okay, I need you to look at each photo...

very carefully.

Look and see if there's anything strange or...

out of place, anything at all.

- I don't see anything. - You sure?

Please, I can't do this right now.

Okay.

It's got to be now.

There may be something we haven't seen.

Wait.

What?

Here.

This painting, it's upside down.

- You sure your men didn't move this? - No.

Those shots were taken before forensics.

Nothing.

There's got to be something.

- He moved the screws to rehang it. - Yep.

What the fuck is that?

Switchblade.

God damn it.

There must be something.

He didn't paint the fucking thing.

Now he's fucking with us, that's what he's doing.

See this, this is us.

Just wait a minute.

- Somerset's climbing on the furniture. - Just wait a minute.

You're kidding me.

Call the print lab.

Oh, man.

Honestly...

have you ever seen anything like this?

No.

Help me

I can tell you guys,

just by looking at the swell pattern

they're not the victim's fingerprints.

I don't know, man.

I'd say he's whacked enough.

It doesn't fit.

He doesn't want us to help him stop.

Who knows.

Freaks out there doing their evil deeds they don't want to do.

"The voices made me do it".

"My dog made me do it, Jodie Foster made me do it".

I'll say this maybe take as long as 3 days to make a match,

so maybe you guys want to cross your fingers somewhere else.

You meant what you said to Mrs. Gould, didn't you?

About catching this guy.

Wish I still thought the way you did.

Tell me what the hell it is you think we're doing?

Picking up the pieces.

We're collecting all the evidence,

taking all the pictures and samples...

writing everything down...

noting the time things happened.

That's all?

That's all.

Putting everything into neat piles and filing it away...

on the off chance it'll be needed in the courtroom.

Picking up diamonds on a deserted island...

saving them in case we get rescued.

Bullshit.

Even the most promising clues usually only lead to others.

So many corpses roll away unrevenged.

Don't try to tell me you didn't get that rush tonight.

I saw you.

We're getting somewhere.

Thursday

Wake up, glimmer twins.

We got a winner.

This guy goes by the name of Victor.

His real name is Theodore Allen.

His prints were found at the scene by Homicide.

He's got a long history of serious mental illnesses.

His parents gave him a very strict

southern baptist upbringing.

Somewhere along the line they fell short.

Victor dabbled in drugs, armed robbery and assault,

spent some time in prison here a while back

for the attempted rape of a minor.

But his lawyer saw to it that didn't last long.

The lawyer by the way was recently safety Eli Gould,

the "greed" murder victim.

And we're gonna finish this thing up today, ladies and germs.

Victor's been out of circulation for a while,

but there's still a residence for his name.

You're not buying this?

Doesn't seem like our guy, does it?

You tell me.

Our killer seems to have more purpose.

You ever take a bullet?

Never in my thirty-four years, knock on wood.

I've only taken my gun out 3 times

with the intension of useing it.

Never pulled the trigger.

Not once.

You?

Yeah. No, I never took a bullet, but...

I pulled my gun once. Shot it once.

- Really? - It was my first one of these.

We were a secondary unit.

I was pretty shaky going in. I was a rookie then.

Anyway, we bust open the door looking for this junkie,

and the fucker opened fire on us.

One cop got hit in the arm.

Christ, what was his name?

It spun him like a top...

no, well, more, you know, more like slow motion.

I remember...

riding in that ambulance...

and, well...

he died right there.

Right there.

Christ, what was his fucking name?

SWAT goes before dicks.

They love this.

Police!

Clear!

Good morning, sweetheart.

Get up now, motherfucker. now!

Get up, you sack of shit.

Oh, fuck me.

Dicks!

You'll want to come take a look at this.

Dicks!

Jesus.

Victor?

- What the hell? - It's just Victor.

- Call an ambulance. - What the fuck?

Hearse, be more like it.

Call for forensics.

Get your people out of here.

No one touches anything.

It's like a frigging wax sculpture or something.

Sloth.

Aw, man.

Goddamn.

Those pictures were dated 3 days ago.

This must be the first.

Look.

It's dated exactly one year ago today.

I got a hair sample. I got a...

stool sample. I got piss. I got...

fingernails.

He's laughing at us.

You got what you deserved.

He's alive! Cocksucker's alive!

Guns down!

Guns down! Emergency on that ambulance!

- He's playing games. - Aw, no shit.

We have to divorce ourselves from emotion.

No matter how hard it is,

we have to remain focus

- on the details - I feed off my emotions. How's that?

Are you listening to me?

Yes, I can hear you.

- Excuse me. - What are you doing?

Closed crime scene. Get the fuck out of here.

I got a right to be here.

I'm a U.P.I. photographer.

I got a fucking right to be here.

- Get out! Jesus. - Fucking jerk.

I got your picture, man.

- I got your picture. - Yeah, yeah.

Detective Mills. M-i-l-l-s. Fuck off.

- I'm surprised you can spell! - Fuck you!

How they get here so fucking quick?

They pay police for the information. And they pay well.

Hey man, I'm sorry.

They piss me off.

It's okay.

It's impressive to see a man feeding off his emotions.

A year of immobility's right,

judging by the deterioration of the muscle and spine.

Blood tests show a smorgasbord of drugs in his system.

Even an antibiotic,

probably to keep the bedsores from infecting.

Now, has he tried to speak or communicate in any way?

Even if his brain were not mush, which it is...

he chewed off his tongue long ago.

Doc.

Is there absolutely no chance that he might survive?

He'd die of shock right now

if you shone a flashlight in his eyes.

He's experience about as much pain and suffering

as anyone I've encountered, give or take

and he still has hell to look forward to.

Good night.

Hello, William.

It's Tracy.

Tracy?

Everything okay?

Yeah. Yes, everything's fine.

Where's David?

He's in the other room. He's in the shower.

I'm sorry to call you like this.

Oh, it's all right.

What can I do for you Tracy?

I need someone to talk...to...

Do you think you could meet me...

somewhere, maybe tomorrow morning?

I don't understand.

I feel stupid calling, but...

you're the only person that I know here.

There's no one else.

If you can...

just give me a call, okay?

I have to go now.

Good night.

Good night.

Friday

I mean...

you know this city so well.

You've been here...

so long.

It can be a hard place.

I don't know why I asked you to come.

Why don't you talk to him about it?

Tell him how you feel.

I can't. You know, I can't be a burden.

Especially now.

I'll get used to things...

You know?

I wanted to talk to someone...

who's lived here for a long time.

I mean, upstate, it's a completely different environment.

Did david tell you that I teach fifth grade? Well, I did.

Yeah, he mentioned it.

I've been going around, looking at schools...

but the conditions here are...

horrible.

What about private schools?

I don't know.

Why don't you tell me what's really bothering you, Tracy?

David and I are going to have a baby.

Oh, Tracy. I...

I don't think I'm the one to talk to...

- about this. - I hate this city.

I had a relationship once...

It was very much like a marriage.

We got pregnant.

This was a long time ago.

I remember getting up one morning and going to work.

Just a day like any other,

except it was the first day after I knew...

about the pregnancy.

And I felt this fear...

the first time ever.

I remember thinking...

how can I bring a child into a world like this?

How can a person grow up with all this around them?

I told her I didn't want to have it.

And over the next few weeks...

I wore her down.

I want to have children.

I can tell you now that...

I know... I mean...

I'm positive that...

I made the right decision.

But not a day passes that I don't wish...

that I had made a different choice.

If you don't...

keep...

the baby, I mean, if that's your decision...

don't ever tell him you were pregnant.

But if you choose to have the baby...

then spoil that kid every chance you get.

That's... about... all the advice I can give you, Tracy.

I gotto go.

William.

Thank you.

Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Envy. Wrath. Pride. Lust.

Victor's landlord said there was cash in the office maibox

the first of every month.

Quote "I never heard a single complaint from the tenant...

in apartment 306, and nobody ever complained about him.

The best tenant I've ever had."

- End quote. - A landlord's dream

a paralyzed tenant with no tongue.

Who pays the rent on time.

I'm sick of this waiting.

This is the job.

Why aren't we out there?

Why must we sit here rotting, waiting till the lunatic...

does it again?

It's dismissive to call him a "Lunatic".

Don't make that mistake.

Come on, he's insane. Look.

Right now he's probably

dancing around in his grandma's panties.

Yeah, rubbing himself in peanut butter.

How's that?

I don't think so.

His luck'll run out.

He's not depending on luck.

We walked in there exactly 1 year

after he tied Victor to the bed.

One year to the day.

- He wanted us to. - Don't know that for sure.

Oh, yes, we do.

This note he left,

his first words to us.

"Long is the way, and hard, that out of hell...

leads up to light."

Fuck him. So what?

He's right, so far.

Imagine the will it takes to keep a man bound for a full year,

to sever his hand and to use it

to plant fingerprints,

to insert tubes into his genitals.

This guy's methodical, exacting.

And worst of all, patient.

He's a nut bag.

Because the fucker's got a library card

doesn't make him yoda.

How much money you got?

I got 50. Fifty bucks.

I propose a field trip. Come on.

We'll make a list. At the top we'll put "Purgatory"

"Canterbury Tales," anything relating to the 7 deadly sins.

- Ask yourself. - Wait.

What would he study to do the things he's done?

What are his interests now?

Jack the Ripper, for instance.

- Where are we going? - Library.

The Jerusalem Sinner

Sinners in the Hand

Seven Deadly Sins

Coupons. Coupons. Free coupons.

Discount... discount coupons.

They must have had about 50 health violations

during the last inspection.

Could you at least sit across from me?

I don't want people thinking

we're dating.

Give me your money.

I'll give you this,

but it sound strange,

I gotta to know what the fuck are we doing.

Somerset. How are you doing?

Didn't expect a menage-a-trois.

It's not a problem. Sit down.

Only for you do I do this, so it's a big risk.

- So we're in this fair and square. - It's a deal.

About an hour.

Yep. Help yourself.

That was money well spent.

Yeah.

Alright.

By telling you this,

I'm trusting you more than I trust most people.

Good, because I might punch you.

It's probably nothing, but even so, it's no skin off our teeth.

The guy in the Pizza Parlor is a friend from the Bureau.

Who, stinky man?

For years, the FBI's been hooked into

the library system, keeping records.

- Assessing fines? - No, monitoring reading habits.

Look.

Certain books are flagged.

Books on, say, nuclear weapons,

"Mein Kampf"...

Anyone who checks out a flagged book

has his library records fed to the FBI.

Wait. How is this legal?

Legal. Illegal. These terms don't apply.

You can't use the information directly.

It's just a useful guide.

It might sound silly,

but you can't get a library card

without an ID and a current phone bill. See?

- So they run our list. - Precisely.

If you want to know who's reading...

"Purgatory", "Paradise Lost" and "Helter Skelter".

The FBI's computers will tell us.

It could give us a name.

Could give us a name of a college kid writing a term paper

on 20th-century crime.

At least you're out of the office.

Get a haircut.

How do you know this?

I don't.

- Neither do you. - Exactly.

"Divine Comedy".

"History of Catholicism" a book called "Murderers and Madmen".

"Modern Homicide Investigation". "In Cold Blood".

"Of Human Bondage". Bondage?

It's not what you think.

The Marquis De Sade.

- Marquis De Sade. - Whatever.

Works of St. Thomas Aqua something...

Saint Thomas Aquinas. There.

He wrote about the seven deadly sins.

Is that it?

Yep.

- Let's try it. - Jonathan Doe?

Whatever.

We're sure about that name, are we?

You were, you saw it. John Doe.

You want to go back, I'll go back.

Let's take a look at him. Talk to him.

This is crazy.

We'll just talk to him.

"Excuse me, sir. Are you, by any chance, a serial killer?"

You do the talking.

Put that silver tongue of yours to work.

You've talked to my wife?

Retarded.

Charlie's fucking angels.

A name off a computer.

Mills.

- You hit? - No.

He's going down!

Fifth floor!

Mills

Mommy! Mommy!

Police. Is there a back way out?

Lock your door.

What's going on?

Get out of the fucking hall, please.

Get down!

Get the fuck down.

God damn it.

Fuck!

Get out of the fucking way. Move.

Mills

No

Mills

- Are you OK? - I'm all right.

Where are you going?

- I'm going in. - No, no. Wait. Wait.

What are you talking about? He fucking shot at us.

You can't go in.

- We need a warrant. - We got probable cause. Come on.

Think about it. Think how did we get here?

- I can't tell anyone about the Bureau. - Get out of the way.

We have no reason to be here. Would you listen to me?

- Get off, get the fuck off me. - Alright, I'm sorry.

But would you just pay attention a minute?

With a hole like this, we won't be able to prosecute.

The fucking guy'll walk. That's what you want?

By the time we clear a warrant... fuck that.

We need a reason to knock on this door.

Think about it.

Okay?

Okay, okay.

You're right. I'm all fucked up.

When you're right, you're right.

Well...

No point in arguing anymore.

Unless you can fix that..

You stupid son of a ...

How much money we got left?

So, yeah, I noticed...

this guy going out a lot

when the murders were happening, so I...

so you called Det. Somerset?

- She called Somerset. - Because this guy

was creepy and shit, and one of the murders

- happened right over there. - I told you the rest.

Got everything?

- Have her sign. - You got to sign it.

Good, good, good.

You did good.

- I did what you said. - Here you go.

You get something alright? You eat.

Everybody stay outside.

Victor.

Wild Bill's Leather

Fuck.

Lust

Somerset!

- Somerset! - Yep!

- What? - We had him.

What are you saying?

The fucking photographer in

the fucking stairs.

We had him and we let him go.

You're sure this is him?

Yep. Good. Get it out.

We've got nothing to go on.

No pay stubs. No appointment books. No addresses.

This is the best we got.

- You guys keep looking on it! - Let me show you something

This was under the bed. His only source of funds?

We got his money. Fucking-A. I like it.

Wait. And there is one more thing.

You're probably not gonna believe this.

We haven't found a fingerprint. Not one.

You are right. I don't believe you. Keep looking.

We could use more men here.

I'm doing the best I can.

You get all these?

There are 2,000 notebooks on these shelves.

And each notebook contains about 250 pages.

Forget it. Anything about the killings?

"What sick ridiculous puppets we are,

what a gross little stage we dance on.

What fun we have, dancing and fucking.

Not a care in the world. Not knowing that we're nothing.

We are not what was intended."

Wait, there's a lot more.

"On the subway today,

a man came up to me and start a conversation.

He made small talk,

a lonely man talking about the weather and things.

I tried to be pleasant and accommodating...

But my head began to hurt from his banality.

I almost didn't notice it had happened...

but I suddenly threw up all over him.

He was not pleased.

And I couldn't stop laughing".

No dates.

Placed on the shelves in no discernible order.

Just his mind poured out on paper.

Looks like a life's work.

With 50 men reading in 24-hour shifts, it'd still

- take 2 months. - I know.

Where's that phone?

Phone? Phone? Phone? Phone?

People, quiet!

I admire you.

I don't know how you found me, but I was surprised!

I respect you law enforcement officers more every day.

Well, I appreciate that, John.

- I tell you. - No, you listen.

I'll be re-adjusting my schedule in light of today's setback.

I just had to call and express my admiration.

Sorry, I had to hurt one of you,

but I didn't really have a choice, did I?

You'll accept my apology, will you?

I feel like to say more but that'd ruin the surprise.

Got it.

Everybody back to work.

You were right.

He's preaching.

These murders are his sermons to us.

Look, we know him. We know him. We know him.

Who's the blonde?

Looks like a pro.

Maybe.

She caught John Doe's eye.

Wild Bill's Leather

- He came and collected it last night. - Last night?

- Yeah. - This man?

John Doe, easy name to remember. He had a limp.

- What's the job you did for him? - I've got a picture.

One sweet piece, actually.

I thought he was one of them performance artists.

At least what I thought.

You know the sort of guy that

pisses in a cup on stage and then drinks it.

Performance art.

Right.

I think I undercharged him actually.

You made this for him?

I've made weirder shit than that. So what?

They found the blonde.

The picture!

The picture!

Fucking pigs.

- I need you to move now. - I'll come out, but you guys

Get the fuck out of the booth, pal!

I've been in this cage the whole time.

Come on, this way.

Can you do something about the music?

We're looking for the guy.

You from homicide? You better see this.

Lust

Get this thing off of me.

Oh God, get it off of me.

Get him out of here, now!

Come on. I want to hear it again.

Tell me again.

You heard nothing strange, saw nothing strange.

No.

He asked me if I was married.

- I could see he had a gun in his... - Where was the girl?

The what? What?

The girl. The prostitute. Where was she?

Someone comes to your establishment.

They want to go downstairs, get some oo-la-la, whatever.

They got to come to you. Yeah?

Yeah.

You didn't see anyone?

With a package? A knapsack? Something under their arm?

Everybody that comes in there

has got a package under their arms.

Some guys are carrying suitcases full of stuff.

She was just sitting on the bed.

Who tied her down? You or him?

Do you like what you do for a living?

All these things you see?

No. No, I don't.

But that's life, isn't it?

He had a gun. And he made it happen.

He made me do it.

He put that thing on me.

And he made me wear it.

Then he

told me to fuck her.

And I did. I fucked her.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Oh, God, he had a gun in my mouth.

The fucking gun was in my throat.

Fuck.

Oh, God. God.

God, help me. Please, please, help me.

This isn't gonna have a happy ending.

- It's not possible. - We catch him, I'll be happy enough.

If we catch John Doe and he turns out to be the devil.

If he's Satan himself,

that might live up to our expectations.

But he's not the devil.

He's just a man.

You know.

You bitch and you complain and you tell me these things.

If you think you're preparing me for hard times.

Thank you, but...

But you got to be a hero.

You want to be a champion. Well, I'm gonna tell you.

People don't want a champion. They want to eat cheeseburgers

- play Lotto and watch TV. - How did you get like this?

I want to know.

It wasn't one thing, I can tell you that.

Go on.

I don't think I can continue to live in a place

that embraces and nurtures apathy as if it was a virtue.

You aren't different or better.

I didn't say I was. I'm not.

Hell, I sympathize. I sympathize completely.

Apathy is a solution.

I mean,

it's easier to lose yourself in drugs

than it is to cope with life.

It's easier to steal what you want than to earn it.

It's easier to beat a child than to raise it.

Love costs. It takes effort, work.

We are talking about people who are mentally ill...

We are talking about people fucking crazies.

- No, we're not. - Yes, today.

No, we're talking about everyday life here.

You can't afford to be this naive.

Fuck off.

See, you...

You should listen to yourself.

Yeah. You say that

the problem with people is they don't care.

So, I don't care about people.

That makes no sense. You know why?

You care?

Want to know... damn right.

You'll make a difference.

Whatever. The point is that

I don't think you're quitting because you believe

these things you say.

You want to believe them,

because you're quitting.

And you want me to agree with you and say "you're right,

It's all fucked up.

It's a fucking mess.

We should all go live in a fucking log cabin."

But I won't.

I won't say that.

I don't agree with you. I do not.

I can't.

I'm gonna go home.

Thank you, though.

I love you.

So much.

I know.

Sunday

What's your emergency?

Could you repeat that?

I've gone and done it again.

Pride

What have we got?

Sleeping pills.

Glued to one hand.

Telephone glued to the other.

You see what he did?

He sliced her up.

Then he bandaged her.

Call for help and you'll live.

But you'll be disfigured.

Or put yourself out of your own misery.

Come on.

He cut off her nose.

To spite her face.

And he did it very recently.

Listen...

I've decided to stay on till this is done.

One of two things'll happen. Either we'll get John Doe,

or he'll kill 7 and this case will go on for years.

You don't have to do me any favors. Thank you, but I got it.

I'm asking to keep me as your partner for a few more days.

You'd be doing me a favor.

You knew I'd say Yes. We're here.

Your wife called. Get yourself an answering machine.

Detective.

After this I'm gone.

- No big surprise. - Detective!

You're looking for me.

Don't fucking move.

On the fucking floor.

- Stay away from him - On the fucking floor.

I know you.

Now. Get down.

Get down on your stomach.

You piece of shit. Now!

All the way. All the way.

Fucker. Down.

Faster.

Faster, fucker. Now.

Nose on the ground.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is this?

I'd like to speak to my lawyer, please.

God damn it.

He cuts the skin off the tips of his fingers.

That's why we couldn't find

one single usable print in his apartment.

Seems he's been doing it for quite some time.

What about the trace on his bank accounts? The guns?

So far everything is a dead end.

No credit history. No employment records.

His bank account's only 5-years old

and it was started with cash.

We're even trying to trace his furniture.

But the only thing we know about that guy right now...

is that he's independently wealthy,

well-educated,

and totally insane.

Because he's John Doe by choice.

When can we question him?

You don't. He goes to court now.

There's no way he'd just turn himself in.

It doesn't make any sense.

There he sits.

It's not supposed to make any sense.

He's not finished.

He's pissing in our faces and we're taking it like idiots.

You know what I'm talking about.

For the first time ever, you and I are in total agreement.

He wouldn't just stop.

So what the fuck, man?

He's 2 murders away from completing his masterpiece.

We'll wait for his plea.

My client says there're 2 more bodies.

Two more victims hidden away.

He will take Detectives Mills and Somerset to these bodies,

but only Detectives Mills and Somerset...

and only at 6 o'clock today.

Why us?

He says he admires you.

It's part of the game.

The client claims that

if the Detectives do not accept this offer,

these bodies will never be found.

Frankly, counsel, I'm inclined to let them rot.

We've got him.

Downstairs, locked up. Done deal.

He'll get his free room and board,

he's gonna get free cable TV.

My wife doesn't even have cable.

Why are we having this conversation?

No. Something stinks.

And this one here... you, in your $3,000 suit,

and that smug smile on your face.

Dealing for that piece of shit.

- I don't like it. -Mills

I am required by law to serve my clients,

my clients and serve their best interest.

We don't make deals here, Mr. Swarr.

My client also wishes to inform you that

if you do not accept, he'll plead insanity across the board.

Let him try it.

I'd like to see him try it.

Come on. Now we all know with

the extreme nature of these crimes,

I can get him off with such a plea.

I won't let this conviction slide. I can tell you that.

He said that if you do accept under his specific conditions,

he'll sign a full confession, plead guilty right now.

It's your case. Make a decision.

Full confession.

I'm in.

It must be both of you.

If he were to claim insanity,

this conversation is admissible

the fact that he's blackmailing us with his plea.

My client would like to remind you, 2 more are dead.

The press'd have a field day out if they had found out

the police didn't seem to concerned about finding them

giving them a proper burial.

If in fact there are 2 more dead.

The lab report came from downtown.

They did a quickie on Doe's clothing and fingernails.

They found blood from Doe's, from slicing his fingers,

blood from the woman who's face he cut off,

and blood from a third party.

As yet unidentified.

You'd be escorting an unarmed man.

Let's finish it.

If John Doe's head splits open and a UFO flies out,

I want you to expect it.

I will.

Hey man, if I accidentally shaved off a nipple,

would it be covered by workman's comp?

I suppose so.

If you were man enough to file a claim,

I'd buy you one out of my own pocket.

I keep coming home late, my wife'll think something's up.

You know...

Yeah.

What?

Will this wind hurt us?

Let's go.

Spin it around

There it is.

Late model black sedan at 10 o'clock.

Who are you, John?

Who are you really?

What do you mean?

At this stage, what harm can it do to tell us about yourself?

Doesn't matter who I am. Who I am means absolutely nothing.

You need to stay on your left up here.

So where are we heading?

You'll see.

We're not just going to pick up 2 more bodies, are we? John.

That wouldn't be shocking enough.

You've got newspapers to think about, yeah?

Wanting people to listen,

you can't just tap them on the shoulder anymore.

You have to hit them with a sledge hammer.

Then you'll get their strict attention.

But the quesition is

why're you so special that people should listen?

I'm not special.

I've never been exceptional.

This is, though. What I'm doing.

My work.

Your work, John?

Yes.

See, I don't see anything special about it, John.

That's not true.

No, it is true. And the funny thing is, all this work

in 2 months from now on, no one's gonna care,

no one's gonna give a shit, no one's gonna remember.

You can't see the whole complete act yet.

But when this is done,

when it's finished,

it's going to be...

people will barely be able to comprehend,

but they won't be able to deny.

Could the freak be more vague?

As far as master plans go... John...

I really can't wait for you to see.

It's really going to be something.

Know what? I'm gonna be standing right next to you.

So when this big thing happens, be sure and let me know.

Couse I wouldn't want to miss it.

Oh, don't worry.

You won't.

You won't miss a thing.

Going south, keep two miles separation.

Affirmative!

What's so exciting?

It's not too far now.

I've been trying to figure something in my head.

Maybe you can help me out.

When a person is insane, as you clearly are,

do you know that you're insane?

Maybe you're sitting around reading Guns and Ammo,

masturbating in your own feces...

You just stop and go

"Wow, it's amazing. How fucking crazy I really am"?

Yeah? Do you guys do that?

It's more comfortable for you to label me insane.

It's very comfortable.

It's not something I would expect you to accept.

But I did not choose. I was chosen.

Whatever.

I don't doubt that you believe that. John.

But it seems to me that you're

overlooking a glaring contradiction.

Meaning what?

Glad you asked.

If you were chosen...

that is, by a higher power.

And if your hand was forced,

it seems strange to me that

you'd get such enjoyment out of it.

You enjoyed torturing those people.

That doesn't seem in keeping with martyrdom, does it?

John?

I doubt I enjoyed it any more

than Det. Mills would enjoy time alone with me

in a room without windows.

Isn't that true?

How happy would it make you to hurt me with impunity?

That will hurt my feelings. I would never.

You wouldn't only because there's consequences.

It's in those eyes of yours, though.

Nothing wrong with a man taking pleasure in his work.

I won't deny my own personal desire

to turn each sin against the sinner.

Wait a minute,

I thought all you did was killing innocent people.

Innocent? Is that supposed to be funny?

An obese man,

disgusting man who could barely stand up,

a man if you saw him at street

you'd point him out to your friends

so that they'd join you in mocking him.

If you saw him while you ate, you couldn't finish your meal.

After him, I picked the lawyer.

And you both must have secretly been

thanking me for that one.

This is the man who dedicated his life to making money

by lying with every breath that he could muster

to keeping murderers and rapists on the streets.

- Murderers? Murderers, John, like yourself. - A womam.

A woman... so ugly on the inside that she couldn't bear to

go on living if she couldn't be beautiful on the outside?

A drug dealer. A drug dealing pederast, actually.

And let's not forget the disease-spreading whore.

Only in a world this shitty...

could you even try to say these were innocent people

and keep a straight face.

But that's the point.

We see a deadly sin on every street corner,

in every home and we tolerate it.

We tolerate it because it's common.

It's... it's trivial.

We tolerate it morning, noon and night.

Well, not anymore.

I'm setting the example.

And what I've done is gonna be

puzzled over,

and studied,

and followed

forever.

Yeah.

Delusions of grandeur.

You should be thanking me.

Why's that, John?

Because you'll be remembered after this.

Realize, Detective, the only reason that I'm here right now

is that I wanted to be.

No. We would have got you eventually.

Oh, really?

So what were you doing, biding your time? Toying with me?

Allowing 5 "innocent" people to die until

you felt like springing your trap?

Tell me. What was the indisputable

evidence you were going to use on me, right before

I walked up to you and put my hands in the air?

John. Calm down.

I seem to remember us knocking on your door.

That's right.

And I seem to remember breaking your face.

You're only alive because I didn't kill you.

Okay. Sit back.

- I spared you. - Sit back.

Remember that Detective, every time you look in the mirror

at that face of yours for the rest of your life...

or should I say for the rest of what life I allow you to have.

Sit back, you fucking freak!

Shut your fucking mouth!

You're no messiah.

You're a movie of the week. You're a fucking T-shirt at best.

Don't ask me to pity those people.

I don't mourn them any more than the

1000's that died at Sodom and Gomorrah.

Is that to say, John, that what you were doing

was God's good work?

The lord works in mysterious ways.

Do you see those high-tension towers?

That's where we're headed.

I see where he's talking about.

9 o'clock, follow the access road.

- Your signal's breaking up. - Un-fucking-avoidable, sir.

We're in Powerline City. Deal with it.

There sure as shit is no ambush out here.

No fucking nothing out here.

Can't land anywhere near those wires.

They'll come up behind us in about 2 minutes.

I want you to go up way up.

In thirty seconds, back east. On my mark. Thirty seconds.

I'll get him out.

We've got you in sight.

Get out.

Slowly.

Stop.

Stay.

What do you got?

A dead dog.

I didn't do that.

What time is it?

Why?

I'd like to know.

7:01.

It's close.

Let's go take a look.

It's this way.

Bird Two, close your distance.

They're moving away from the car.

We got them, we got them.

Closing in.

Affirmative. Closing in.

Mills.

Down. Down. Down.

Watch him.

There he goes.

It's good we have some time to talk.

Stay on the guy in red.

Do not take the cross hairs off the guy in red.

There's a van coming down the road.

From the north.

Be ready for anything now. Wait for my signal. Wait for me.

Get out of the van!

Out!

Jesus Christ, man. Don't shoot me.

Step away.

Turn around. Put your hands on your head.

What the hell is going on?

Why and what are you doing here?

I'm delivering a package man,

I got a package for this guy, David.

Detective...

David Mills.

Get it. Slowly.

He's opening the back of van.

We've got him in sight.

This guy paid me $500 to bring it out here, man

He said he wanted it here at exactly 7 o'clock.

Put it down.

We got a box.

We got a box. Call the bomb squad.

Bomb squad. We got a box.

Face the van.

Hands up.

Turn around.

Okay. Go.

Off you go. Go.

I'm sending the driver out on foot.

He's headed north, along the road.

Have him picked up.

Oh, I don't know..

I'm going to open it.

When I said I admire you, I meant what I said.

It's blood.

You've made quite a life for yourself, Detective.

You should be very proud.

Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit.

California, stay away from here.

Stay away from here, now. Don't, don't, don't come in here.

Whatever you hear, stay away.

John Doe has the upper hand.

Mills

Here he comes.

- Throw your gun down! - What?

- I wish I could have lived like you. - Shut up.

What the fuck you talking about?

Do you hear me, Detective?

I'm trying to tell you how much

I admire you and your pretty wife.

What?

Tracy.

- What you fucking say? - It's disturbing

how easily a member of the press can purchase

information from the men in your precinct.

What the fuck?

Throw your gun down!

I visited your home this morning...

after you left.

I tried to play husband.

I tried to taste the life of a simple man.

Throw it away!

It didn't work out.

So...

I took a souvenir.

Her pretty head.

- What's, what's he talking about? - Give me the gun.

What's going on over there?

Would you... put the gun down.

I saw you with the box. What was in the box?

Because I envy your normal life.

Put the gun down, David.

It seems that envy is my sin.

- What's in the box? - Not until you give me the gun.

What's in the fucking box?

He just told you.

You lie! You're a fucking liar! Shut up!

That's what he wants. He wan... he wants you to shoot him.

No! No. You tell me. You tell me that's not true.

- That's not true. - Become vengeance, David.

She's all right. You tell me.

Become... wrath.

Tell me she's all right!

If you murder a suspect, David.

You just throw it all away and he knows it.

- She begged for her life, Detective. - Shut up!

She begged for her life...

and for the life of the baby inside of her.

He didn't know.

Give me the gun, David.

If you kill him,

he will win.

Oh God!

Oh God!

Oh, fuck. He shot him!

Set it down somewhere.

Come on, set us down.

Holy Christ, somebody call somebody.

Well, we'll take care of him.

Whatever he needs.

Where you gonna be?

Around.

I'll be around.

Ernest Hemingway once wrote,

"the world is a fine place and worth fighting for."

I agree with the second part.