All language subtitles for Perception.S02E11.LOL.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Albert Einstein...

had a big one.

I am talking about his prefrontal cortex,

you perverts.

And that's important
because more brain tissue

correlates to more intelligence.

The size and the organization
of Einstein's brain

allowed him to achieve greatness

in the fields of physics
and quantum mechanics,

but the question is

was Al born with a special
brain that predisposed him

to elevated visuospatial
and mathematical abilities,

or did his brain grow

as a result of thousands of hours

burning the midnight oil?

Most likely, it was a combination...

natural ability and hard work,

something clearly lacking in this room

as I've yet to receive
anybody's term paper.

Tikka or pho?

What the "pho" you talking about?

Lunch... I'm thinking
either Indian or Vietnamese.

- You ready?
- Yeah, sure. Let me get my stuff.

You totally forgot, didn't you?

What makes you say that?

'Cause you're hiding a half-eaten sandwich

under that file.

Okay. You got me. I'm sorry. I spaced.

I'm just completely swamped here.

Not a problem.

But now I'm gonna force
you to watch me try and eat

one of those mystery-meat kabobs

the guy sells in front of the building.

- Come on.
- All right.

Moretti.

When?

Okay. Yeah, no, I'll be right over.

Listen, I'm sorry.

I'm gonna have to reschedule.

The NTSB needs my help
with an investigation

down at the rail yard.

What happened?

Someone got murdered...

with a train.

- synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.MY-SUBS.com -

Victim's Henry Wilmyer, 19
years old, from Naperville...

security guard here at the rail yard.

Sometime after midnight,

he was run over by the 12-06 train.

We have any idea who was driving it?

Kid named Andre Pritchett, 18 years old.

Wait. What was he doing driving a train?

Well, according to the yardmaster,

this Andre's kind of a weirdo.

He's been caught
trespassing down here a lot.

A few weeks ago, victim catches him

crawling under the fence
for like the umpteenth time.

Instead of throwing him out like usual,

he roughs him up.

Next thing you know,

the kid decides to run
him over with a train.

A train's a pretty clunky murder weapon.

Look, I'm just here to give you
the facts as I'm required to do.

To be honest, I'm not sure
the FBI is even needed here.

It's a pretty straightforward case.

Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that.

Where's this kid now?

Local PD's talking to him.

Tell me why you killed him, damn it!

What's wrong with you?

Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whatever's going on here
needs to stop immediately.

- Says who?
- Special Agent Moretti, FBI.

I'm the agent in charge,

and questioning suspects is my job.

I was just warming him up for you.

There's a better way of questioning him.

And what way is that?

It's not a what. It's a who.

Here's our esteemed Professor.

I would love to introduce you

to Ely Lao and his mother, Carol.

Ely is one of our top academic recruits.

Eli is a neuroscience prodigy.

I wasn't aware we offered
a degree program in prodigy.

When he was only 13, Ely programmed

the world's largest simulation
of a chunk of neural tissue.

We're lucky he's considering CLMU.

Ely could out to be our
very own Mark Zuckerberg.

I don't know who that is.

All the ivies are recruiting Ely.

Why am I part of this conversation?

Because, Daniel, the
opportunity to meet you

was a major factor in Ely's
decision to visit CLMU.

So I'd like you to sit down,

discuss a personalized plan of...

Love to, but I... I...
very important FBI business.

Dean Haley.

You promised, if we made this trip,

Ely would get individualized attention.

Please, call me Paul.

And I assure you, you will be lavished

with personal attention.

You all are spending the weekend, right?

- Yes.
- Perfect. Dinner tomorrow.

I will make all the arrangements,

and Max here has volunteered

to show Ely around campus.

I do not...

want Ely to miss out on
the full college experience.

Meantime, it would be my pleasure

to give you a private
tour of our fair city.

Andre won't make eye contact.

He's rocking back and forth.

Self-stimulation.

This is incredible. Where did it come from?

It was in his backpack at the scene.

Well, he's obviously fascinated by trains.

Here's his last entry.

"Get uniform." "Find keys."

Sounds like a checklist.

"Take the 12-06." What's that?

That would be the train he allegedly stole.

Look, I just want to get to
the bottom of what happened.

But unfortunately,

the Detective who got to Andre first

went at him way too hard.

Now he's completely
despondent and shut down.

Hi, Andre.

My name's Daniel.

Is it o... okay if I sit?

I hear you like trains.

There's over 233,000 miles
of railroad track in the U.S.

Last year, trains moved over 3
billion ton-kilometers of freight.

I like them, too.

When I was a kid, I used
to make model trains.

I built 87 of them.

That's very impressive.

Did you ever make a
model of the 12-06 train?

Yeah.

12-06... progress rail PR20-C

with an output of 2,000 horsepower.

Originates in the joliet
station at 4:32 A.M.

And moves through Matteson, Blue Island,

Homewood, Dolton, terminating
in the Burnham Station.

Burnham Station... isn't that
where Henry Wilmyer worked?

Mm, bad man. Bad man!

W... why was he bad?

Mm. Hurt my arm.

I wanted to see the trains.

Hey! I told you to stay away from here!

Look at me! Oh, come on, you...

get the hell out of here! Come on!

Can you tell me what
happened to Henry last night?

I'm sorry, Andre. I can't
understand what you're saying.

Will you speak louder?

Henry, killed Henry,

killed Henry, killed Henry,

killed Henry, killed Henry,
killed Henry, killed...

Andre has autism spectrum disorder,

which is characterized by
communication difficulties,

social deficits, and...
and repetitive behaviors.

He's... he's very high-functioning,

but he devotes more of his
brainpower to his love of trains

than he does to forming
relationships with other people.

It's made him an expert
on anything train-related.

Great. So he's "Train Man."

What does that have to do with the fact

that he stole one and killed somebody?

I don't think he took the train

because he wanted to kill anybody.

I think he took it because
he was fascinated by it.

- I... it was a joyride.
- What about all the times

the victim threw him out of the rail yard?

I mean, if Andre loves trains so much,

wouldn't that really piss him off?

I'm telling you, he didn't
intend to kill the victim.

Come on, how can you possibly know that?

Because he's incredibly detail-oriented.

He made a checklist of every little thing

that he was gonna do that day.

Now, if he intended to kill someone,

the last item on the list would have been

- "run over the security guard."
- So you're saying that Andre

didn't intend to kill the victim.

He only intended to steal the 12-06.

- Yes, but...
- All right, killing someone

during the commission of a felony,

whether it's intentional
or not, is still murder.

This kid's going to jail.

I want to thank you for helping
us make the case, Dr. Pierce.

Over there is the rec center,

and then right here we've
got our student union.

And then over there,
we've got the cafeteria.

Dude, how about you hook me up

with some of these fine older women?

Um... I'm not your dating service, kid.

Yo, sweater vest. Real talk.

If you want to score some
points with Dean dude,

then show me a good time.

And I'll take it into consideration

when I decide to come here or not.

All I agreed to do was
show you around campus.

Okay? Now, come on.

I'm gonna take you to the science library,

and then we can go check
out some dorm rooms, okay?

Ely?

You should be ashamed of yourself.

Thank you.

Unfortunately, I've done
plenty to be ashamed of,

so you're gonna have to
be a lot more specific.

Neuro-typical people just
skate through the system,

while the neuro-diverse
are subjected to widespread

abuse and injustice.

- What the hell are you talking about?
- Andre Pritchett.

You charged him with felony murder.

The kid who stole the train?

I didn't charge him with anything.

- That's not my case.
- Not you, literally.

You, figuratively, as a representative

of the United States government.

And now he's shackled
in some federal dungeon.

As I understand it, he's out on bail.

Can't you see I'm speaking metaphorically?!

Look, I don't know a
whole lot about the case,

but it sounds to me like the kid

stole a train and killed somebody.

Not on purpose.

Well, what do you want me to do about it?

I want you to tell
whoever's handling the case

that from the first time
that kid saw a train,

he was obsessed.

He can't help himself.

He... he just wants to be around them,

to see them, to study them, to ride them.

He's not a killer.

Okay.

Maybe I can help.

- If you're driving a car down the street...
- I don't drive.

Can't you see I'm speaking hypothetically?!

You're driving, someone
puts a gun to your head,

and demands that you run
someone over, and you do it.

Legally, you wouldn't be liable

because you didn't have a choice.

It's called the defense of compulsion.

It sounds like Andre's condition

may have compelled him
to operate the train.

Like he had a gun to his head.

If you can prove that, maybe
you can get him acquitted.

Wow. Hi, Andre.

Some amazing trains in here.

What's... what's the scale of this one?

It's a lifelike H.O. scale model.

The locomotive is 1/87th
the size of the actual train.

Very cool. Very cool.

Andre, if it's okay,
we... we need to ask you

a few more questions about
why you took the 12-06 train.

Can you help us understand?

PN 10-02 was stationary on "T" 32.

Is PN 10-02 a train?

Prader National 10-02.

It's pulled by a 4-axle
3,000-horsepower locomotive.

A controlled switchback of PN 13-37

heading southbound on "T" 13

put 10-02 on the lead crossover switch

and stationary on "T" 32.

12-06 was parked on "T" 12.

40-94 was southbound on the main 1.

Kid's a nightmare.

He's always hassling me,
asking me about the schedules.

I mean, who knew he was dangerous?

Would you mind just
listening to the recording?

We're trying to get to the
bottom of what happened.

Sure.

A controlled switchback of PN 13-37

heading southbound on "T" 13

put PN 10-02 on the lead crossover switch

and stationary on "T" 32.

12-06 was parked on "T" 12.

No, that can't be right.

Hey, Frank. Hand me last week's
maintenance log, will you?

I'll be damned.

The 11-25 train was traveling
northbound on the main track.

The 40-94 was traveling southbound,

heading right for it.

Now, usually, the 40-94 would divert

into the runoff at mile
12 to avoid a collision,

but it couldn't that night

because, due to some maintenance,

there was already a train parked there.

The 40-94 would have
continued to the runoff

at mile 7 and diverted there.

It couldn't that night...
the software that controls

the automatic crossover
switch was being upgraded,

shutting down the switch at mile 7

at exactly the moment the
40-94 would have arrived.

40-94 would have stayed on the main track.

Yes, and... and collided
with the 11-25 train.

The 11-25 is a passenger train.

Right... but they didn't crash,

because Andre figured it out.

He tried to tell the yardmaster,
but security threw him out,

so he came up with his
own plan to avert disaster.

He moved the 12-06 train
deeper into the runoff at mile 3

to create space for another train to fit.

How, with all the computers and fail-safes,

did he catch what everyone else missed?

Because when it comes to
trains, Andre never gets bored.

He never gets tired or... or distracted.

He should be celebrated as
a hero, not sent to prison.

Look, it is remarkable, I admit.

- But he still killed Henry Wilmyer.
- I don't think so.

- Why?
- Andre is a stickler for details.

Section 1.20 of the general
code of operating rules

states that engineers
"must ensure a clear track

before operating a train."

Dan Bukowski, the yardmaster,

said that Andre's operation
of the 12-06 was letter perfect

with respect to rail-yard
operating procedure...

better than some veteran employees.

How did Henry get run over?

I don't know, but I am guessing

those tracks were clear
when Andre checked them.

So maybe... maybe as he's
climbing up into the cab,

Henry crawls out onto the tracks

and lies down in front of the train.

Why would he do that? Suicide?

Maybe he was drunk or on drugs.

There were no drugs in his system.

You're kidding. This is the whole report?

They ran a full panel on him.

Wait a minute. What... what
time did they accident occur?

Just after midnight. Why?

It says here the body was

already in rigor mortis at 12:45 A.M.

- That's impossible.
- Wait, I... I don't get it.

It couldn't happen that quickly.

A body goes into rigor mortis
2 to 4 hours after death.

Well, the M.E. who
examined him at the scene

must have made a mistake.

So, when did Henry die?

Well, the temperature was
cool, the body was mangled...

we may never know that, but
one thing is for certain.

If the body was in rigor,
Andre didn't kill Henry.

Henry was already dead
when the train ran him over.

Okay, well, then, if Andre
didn't kill him, who did?

Henry was our pride and joy.

I couldn't have my own children, so...

Ed, my late husband, and I adopted.

And we spoiled Henry.

He was a ballplayer, I see.

Oh, it was his passion.

During his junior year,

some scouts even came out to see him.

They said Henry could go pro one day.

Hmm.

But, uh...

that was before he started having issues.

What kind of issues?

During his senior year, he
got busted with some pot.

They kicked him off the team.

Oh, that must have been tough on him.

He was crushed. He... he dropped out.

He started drinking, gambling.

Can you think of anyone

who might have wanted to harm your son?

A few weeks ago, he came
home beat up pretty badly,

and he wouldn't tell me
who did it, but, um...

apparently, he owed a lot of money

to some bookie at the rail yard.

You know, Donnie used to prosecute

a lot of those organized-crime guys.

I bet he knows who's running the books

down at the rail yards these days.

Paolo Genardi.

He's been taking bets there for 30 years,

and the crafty bastard skates
every time we charge him.

Well, thank you. I owe you one.

Well, I'm free for dinner tonight.

Sure. Why not?

Great. I'll pick you up around 7:00.

Good luck with Genardi.

What's this about?

Henry Wilmyer.

Who the hell is Henry Wilmyer?

He's a security guard. He was murdered.

You're his bookie.

Listen, you could either talk to me now

or you can wait until
I've had a Rico task force

assigned specifically
to make your life hell.

What did you say your name was again?

It's Moretti. But you'll get used to it.

It'll be on all of your indictments.

You're Joe Moretti's kid. I knew it.

I recognized the tone in
the "bad cop" bit just now.

How's the old dirtbag doing?

Watch it... he's retired, but
he could still kick your ass.

Come on. Him and me... we go way back.

Oh, really? From all the
times he's busted you?

Busted me? Joe was one
of my best customers.

- It's bullshit.
- What?

You don't think cops like to
bet the Bulls and the Bears?

Look, as a favor to your old man,

I'm gonna answer your questions.

Did Henry Wilmyer place bets with you?

Not good ones. He racked
up 50 grand in markers.

And when he didn't pay, you killed him.

Why would I kill him?

Henry was the type of degenerate sucker

that could have put my
grandkids through college.

Besides... he said he found
a way to come up with the cash.

Oh, really? And what was that?

He said his brother was
gonna give it to him.

Toss it over here.

Hang on. Got to get my arm loose.

Oh, my God.

You're Mordecai "Three Finger" Brown.

Oh, you can call me "brownie."

I... I know you're just a hallucination,

but you might be the greatest
hallucination I've ever had.

- Oh, well, I'm just a ballplayer.
- Just a ballplayer?

You're a Hall-of-Fame pitcher for the Cubs.

When... when... when you
were the ace of the staff

from 1906 to 1910, you guys put up

the greatest five-year record
of any team in baseball history.

Your... your curve ball is legendary.

Well, I did all right with it.

You know, m... m... m...
my grandfather saw you

in... in the 1908 world series.

Yeah, we Pierces have been Cubs fans

for over a hundred years.

Wow. That sure is a long time.

Hey, how many titles we won since then?

Not counting 1908?

Uh, that would... that would be none.

Ooh.

I can't...

what... what are you doing here?

Well, you know, I was just...

I was just looking to toss the onion.

You want to play some catch?

Oh, I... I... I haven't
played baseball in years.

Well, why not?

I haven't had time.

Oh. There should always
be time for baseball.

Surprisingly, Paolo Genardi

did not admit to killing Henry Wilmyer.

Claims that he was
having dinner at the time,

with a friend who he refused to name.

But he claims that he had no reason

to want to kill Henry anyhow

because he had supposedly found a way

to come up with the 50 grand.

- How?
- Said that his brother was gonna give it to him.

I thought Henry was an only child.

Yeah, Paolo's probably
just lying to cover his ass.

But since Henry was adopted,

I guess it's possible
that he had a brother.

I'll have to dig through
the adoption files,

see if there's any truth to it.

That's why he looked so familiar!

Either Henry has a twin,

or our corpse just signed a contract

to play professional baseball.

Micah Conley was drafted in the 2nd round.

There was talk that he could
develop into the next Derek Jeter.

1-2 to Conley.

Oh, and he catches one
deep to the right wall.

Slides into third.

Looks like he jammed his right...

Ouch. Yeah, broke his wrist.

This is a... a winter league
game in Florida last week.

I read about it in Sports Update,

and that's what's been bothering me

since I saw Henry's picture.

So Henry was telling the
truth about having a brother.

Maybe Conley really was
gonna give him the money

to pay off the bookie.

Wait. Why don't we just ask him ourselves?

It says right here that Micah's in Chicago

having surgery on his wrist
with the team's doctors.

I'll just call up his agent
and set up an interview.

I know how much you despise
going to restaurants,

so I have brought dinner to you.

And I've invited Ely and
his mother to join us.

I made sure the caterers have
made all of your favorites...

the chicken coconut soup,
the mint and fennel salad...

Paul, that's very thoughtful.

I... I'd be happy to host a dinner for you.

- You would?
- Of course not!

I... i... in what alternate universe

would I agree to have complete strangers

eating in my home?

Daniel, I really need your help here.

Fine. Fine.

Get... get Lewicki to help you.

Be back as soon as I can.

Lewicki.

Hello. Hello. Dean Haley?

Lewicki, I need you to
bring Ely back to the house

for dinner with Dr. Pierce.

Oh, o... okay. Great. W...
w... we'll be right over.

Well, hurry up, because this
dinner needs to be perfect.

Gotcha. Hey, hey, uh, excuse me.

H... have you seen a... a
nerdy kid, about 15, headphones?

Yo, Maximus.

Que pasa, bro? Where
the hell have you been?

I have been looking all over for you, Ely.

Were you just in here smoking weed?

No, man. I don't smoke.

But these brownies sure are tasty.

Mmm.

Oh, hell no.

I didn't even know I had a twin
brother until a few days ago.

I just can't believe he's dead.

How did you first hear about Henry?

I guess he read some
article about me online,

sent me a message on Facebook.

Yeah, I told Micah not to respond,

that it might be a hoax
or a ploy to get money.

I didn't want him to be Manti Te'o'd.

I'm not usually quick
to trust people anyway.

But you did finally meet.

Yeah... he showed up at my
hotel room here in Chicago.

It was like staring into a mirror.

And we ended up hanging out
all night, swapping stories.

I couldn't believe how similar we were.

We both hated Okra.

We... we both liked "Real Housewives,"

which is crazy, 'cause
no guys like that show.

But the craziest part was how
much we both loved baseball.

I couldn't believe it when I found
out Henry was really good at it, too.

Could you imagine both of us
playing in the same infield?

I was gonna see if I could
get him a tryout, but...

He said he had a few things

he needed to straighten out first.

Like what?

He owed a lot of money to some bookie.

Were you gonna help him pay?

Yeah, of course. I mean, I wanted to.

I spent most of the signing bonus

on the condo in Florida
and the rest on the Mustang.

I mean, I even offered to sell it,

but he said he needed the money right away.

And when was the last time you saw him?

Two nights ago, when he left my hotel.

He was on his way to find that bookie,

beg him for an extension.

There's no way Paolo could have killed him.

His alibi checks out. He was
seen dining with Frankie Zaccardo,

a known mob boss, at the
time of Henry's death.

Well, maybe he sent one
of his thugs to do it.

Oh. Way ahead of you.

We're running checks on
all of his known associates,

but that could take a while.

Meanwhile, I'm starving.
I need to eat some...

Oh, crap!

What?

Oh.

I was supposed to have dinner
with Donnie like an hour ago.

Great. I'll go with you.

- Don't you have dinner plans?
- I wish... Miranda's still on tour,

much to the detriment of
our budding relationship

she's in Paris for...

Okay, I didn't mean anything about Miranda.

I meant a certain dinner party.

At your house.

Forced idle chitchat

at a dinner party you can't leave

because it's in your own home

is the very definition of hell.

I'm going with you.

You promised Dean Haley.

I am taking you home.

I'm beginning to think Dr. Pierce

is deliberately avoiding us.

No one in their right
mind would ever turn down

an opportunity to share
such delightful company.

Oh. That's very kind of you, Paul.

But this is about Ely's education,

and if Dr. Pierce isn't
interested, well, then...

Dude!

This cauliflower mash is insane.

Max, get involved here.

What's wrong with you,
Ely? You're acting strange.

That's 'cause I'm high as balls, mom!

And it's the good stuff, too.

The THC is blowing the dopamine

right out of my mesolimbic system.

Where did you get marijuana?

Max... he's been showing me around.

CLMU is awesome!

I think we've had enough
of CLMU's hospitality.

Uh... look, t... there's got to be

some kind of misunderstanding.
Come on, Ely, we're leaving.

Let's not make any
decisions from a hasty...

Put the mashed potatoes down.

You took him to get drugs?

Of course not. He took off on his own.

I'll deal with you later.

Carol, don't go!

Look, th...there's got to be something
we could do to get this back on track

Don't... great! Dr. Pierce is back.

Am I in time for dessert?

Great idea. I was thinking...

- S'mores!
- No.

Is he high? Paul, did you get him high?

I most certainly did not.

And had you been here, you would know that.

I'm sorry I'm late. I...I got held up.

Ely.

Carol! W...wait!

At least let me take you to the hotel.

Must have been a hell of a dinner party.

Kind of wish I hadn't missed it now.

No, you don't.

Ely is finally asleep.

Someone must have taken
advantage of Ely's youth

and tricked him into taking drugs,

which, I might add, is a very
rare occurrence here at CLMU.

Monday, I'm launching an inquiry.

In the meantime, is there
anything I can do to...

to make this up to you?

Well... you can pour me a drink.

Pity about that poor boy.

You know, you're still
my favorite hallucination,

but I...I think we have to
have the boundaries discussion.

All that wasted potential.

What are you... talking about Micah?

'Cause, you know, his...
his wrist will recover.

It's not career-ending.

I'm talking about the murder.

And the daggone killer
is getting away with it!

Are you saying Micah's the killer?

'Cause that would make no sense.

I mean, what motive would
he have to kill Henry?

He's young, he's good-looking,

he's playing professional baseball.

His life's perfect.

Look, it's not all puppies
and sunshine, you know.

When I finally made it to the bigs,

everyone turned into my best pal overnight.

And there was a lot of bums,

fishing for inside dope, playing angles.

But all that noise faded
away once I got to the park.

You know you... You smell the grass

and you hear the crowd.

I...I get a bang out of it

as much as I did when I first come up.

Now, I'm not saying that I'm
some holy joe or anything,

but at that moment,

you realize that you're
not alone in this world.

It's a dream come true.

And once you get a taste for it,

you do damn near anything
to keep the dream alive.

Micah gets to live the
dream, but Henry doesn't.

No wonder Henry killed Henry.

"Henry killed Henry."

Andre.

It's Daniel.

Tell me, the night of the accident,

at the rail yard, how
many Henrys did you see?

Two.

Andre saw two Henrys at
the rail yard that night.

Explain that to me.

Okay, after he saw that
the tracks were clear,

he climbs up into the
cab, he starts driving it.

That's when he sees "Henry"

throw a body in front of the train.

So, h... he can't... he can't
stop in time. He runs over it.

When he comes down to
see what had had happened,

the body is also Henry.

And why didn't Andre tell us this before?

From his perspective, he did.

When I interviewed him, he
kept repeating the phrase,

"killed Henry, killed Henry."

I thought... I thought
he meant he killed Henry,

but what he was really trying to say was

"Henry killed Henry."

Well, he must have eventually realized

that we misunderstood him,

so how come he never corrected us?

His communication with
others is very literal.

We just didn't ask him the right questions.

- Right.
- So you're saying that Micah Conley,

this blue-chip prospect,
comes to Chicago for surgery,

finds out he's got a long-lost twin,

and then he kills him?

No. I'm... I'm saying
Henry, the security guard,

killed Micah and is now impersonating him.

Why would Henry want to kill Micah?

Because Micah was living the life

that Henry always wanted.

Henry was bitter.

He... he owed money. He'd lost his dream.

He hears about Micah, tries
to contact him on Facebook.

Micah ignores it because he figures

Henry's just another crazy fan.

Then Henry, he gets hurt and offended

and thinks, "well, screw him!"

I'll... I'll... I'll take his life,"

literally and figuratively.

And that takes care of his money problems,

because now Paolo, his
bookie, thinks he's dead.

Micah was a top prospect,
so how the hell could Henry

think he could get away with it?

Henry was a baseball player, too,

but he screwed up before he got his shot.

So maybe he... he convinced himself

that he was as good as his brother.

Is there proof of any of this?

Well, yeah, we have an eyewitness.

No offense, but his condition means

he would be a disaster on the stand.

- You see, that...
- But...

if there's one thing that I've learned

working with the two of you,

it's that I should at
least entertain the idea

that what you're saying is true.

So how can we prove it?

Well, it's not like we
can just order a DNA test

to prove that Micah is really Henry.

I mean, they're identical
twins. Their DNA's the same.

Heads up, doc.

You okay?

Sorry, doc. That one got away from me.

Your hand. It's healed.

What are you talking about?

His wrist. His wr...

M... M... Micah Conley
broke his wrist in Florida

before he came up to Chicago.

So... so if Henry killed him
and is now impersonating him...

His wrist will be fine.

Dean Haley?

What are you doing here?

Hi, Ely.

Uh...

Just, you know, came by to see
if you maybe needed anything.

Are you serious?!

You want me to convince
my client to get an X-ray

so he can prove that he's himself?

Not a chance in hell.

Look...

What if, by some crazy chance,

it turns out that Henry

really is fooling you and everyone else?

Wouldn't you want to know
that before you invest

any more time or money into a kid

who isn't the star that you think he is?

Well, I'm no doctor,

but that looks like a broken wrist to me.

The scaphoid is broken.

Thanks for the colossal waste of time.

Come on, Micah. Let's go. I'll
take you back to the hotel.

Could Henry have broken his own wrist?

Replicating the same type
and positioning of the break

would be next to impossible.

I was so sure he was Henry.

I guess we have to
accept that we were wrong.

Did I ever tell you why my
curveball was so unhittable?

It was unhittable 'cause
you only had three fingers.

The absence of an index finger

put greater pressure behind the ball

at point of release,
giving it greater spin.

The greater the spin, the less
drag pressure under the ball,

forcing it to dive quicker.

- It's simple physics.
- Nope.

It was the rabbit's foot.

What?

Yeah, I kept it in my left pocket.

You see, I had to pitch a
doubleheader against Brooklyn,

and my soup bone was... was dog-tired

going into the second game.

And Mick, the trainer, gave
me his lucky rabbit's foot.

I pitched a one-hit shutout.

That day on, never pitched
another inning without it.

Well, that's just superstition and ritual.

Baseball's a game of
superstition and ritual.

I knew a guy who wouldn't change
his skivvies on road trips.

Yeah, wouldn't sit next to him on the bus.

And another fella...

he'd spun around twice before he batted.

Which had absolutely no bearing

or influence on his performance.

Listen...

we baseball players are a funny breed.

We have to do it the same way every time.

Otherwise, we lose the magic.

You have to do it the same way every time.

Lewicki!

What... what... what is it now, doc?

Call Kate. Tell her we... we
may not be wrong after all.

Why am I still here?

Isn't this harassment or something?

The X-ray proves I'm not Henry.

That... that was my mistake. Apologies.

But w... w... we still have to figure out

who actually murdered your brother.

You do want to help us
catch his killer, don't you?

- Yeah, of course.
- Great.

Help me u... understand something here.

Could you... could you show him that thing?

Yeah. Okay.

Now, this is you at bat a month ago.

And this is you last week in Florida.

Did you notice anything?

Yeah.

Little more turn in my hips,
and I would have hit it out.

Hmm. Bad luck.

M... maybe... maybe you shouldn't have

switched up your routine.

You know, after your
waggle, before your set-up,

you always tap your helmet.

But this last week in Florida, you didn't.

- Yeah, so?
- Well, you've never done it that way before.

It was... it was strange.

So we compared dozens
of your previous at-bats

to, uh, to this one.

Now, normally, you wear one batting glove,

but... but here you're wearing two.

Y... y... you like to
take three warm-up swings,

but... but this time, just one.

And you always spit to your left.

But in Florida, it was to your right.

So last week, I mixed it
up. What's the big deal?

Well, ballplayers are a funny
breed. They have rituals.

They have to do it the same way every time,

or they lose the magic.

Did you honestly think that
nobody was gonna figure it out?

Figure what out?

Micah Conley didn't hit
that triple last week.

It was you... Henry Wilmyer.

You killed Micah, and now
you are impersonating him.

- That's ridiculous!
- You got lucky on one pitch, Henry.

What in the world made
you... made you think

you'd... you... you'd
magically be good enough

to play in the bigs?

I mean, who do you think you are?

You're not the great Micah Conley?

You're just lowly Henry Wilmyer...

pothead, gambler, loser.

Your subpar skills would
eventually give you away.

How the hell did you
think you'd pull this off?

I'm good enough, damn it! I hit that ball!

So you killed your brother,
and you took his place?

No. No, no, no. That...
that's not how it happened.

You must have been so jealous of him.

I read this article about Micah,

and I... I couldn't believe it.

Oh, my God.

I... I had a twin brother all this time?

So I... I... I tried to contact
him, but he didn't respond.

I figured 'cause he was busy,
but I couldn't just let that go.

I mean, this amazing baseball
prospect might be my twin.

So, I... I... I thought, if he
could just meet me, you know?

I mean, he bragged about this condo
he bought on Facebook in Florida,

so I... I hopped on a bus,
and I... I tracked him down.

O... our first meet
happened just like I said,

only it happened in Florida, not Chicago.

But we really did end
up hanging out all night.

When did you decide that you
were gonna try to become him?

Switching places was Micah's crazy idea.

We woke up the next
morning really hung over.

Micah felt worse than me,
and he had a game to play.

So, he decided to let me fulfill
my dream of playing in the pros.

I mean, he figured it was
just for one minor-league game.

Hmm. No one would ever know.

Exactly.

And I did it!

I mean, sure, I... I struck
out my first two times at bat,

but then my timing came back,

and when that chump pitcher hung a curve,

I tagged it, man.

And you broke your
wrist sliding into third.

The team arranged for me

to be flown back to Chicago the next day

for surgery with the team's doctor.

They dropped me back off at the condo

to pick up my stuff.

Micah saw my wrist and freaked,

but I... I told him just
to chill out, you know?

"I... it's all good.
Everything will be okay."

I could just be him until I got better.

Move!

That's when we started to fight.

It was an accident.

So, you decided to become
Micah Conley permanently.

But you still had his body to worry about.

I was freaking out. I
didn't know what to do.

I figured I needed to get back to Chicago.

My arm felt like hell.

I somehow I got him into
the trunk of the mustang,

and I just took off.

Wasn't anyone looking for Micah?

I... I... I found his
agent's number in his phone.

So I called and said I
decided to drive back, not fly.

The club was pissed, but
he said he'd smooth it over.

Yeah, but... but... but to
make the switch complete,

you had to get rid of you.

You had to kill off Henry Wilmyer.

When I got back to
Chicago, I went to my place.

I somehow managed to get
Micah into my security uniform.

I went to the rail yard.

First train I saw moving, I
threw his body in front of it.

I know it's not fair
what happened to Micah.

But I'm the one that should have made it.

Yo, Maximus.

I wanted to catch you before we left.

Oh. Hey, Ely.

Look, I'm really sorry this place

wasn't what you hoped it would be.

Kidding me? CLMU is awesome.

Oh, so you're gonna enroll here?

Hell, no.

Why not?

Because that asshole boned my mom!

- Hey.
- Donnie. Hey.

Listen, I'm really sorry
about the other night, okay?

Don't... don't worry about
it. You apologized already.

No, but I just want you to
know that I... look, look.

Obviously, I'm hoping

that you want to give us another shot.

But if you don't, just tell me.

I'm a big boy. I can handle it.

Donnie, it's really not like that.

I do want to have dinner with you.

I'm just a little underwater here.

Okay.

But you got my number.

Come on, Brownie. Throw it.

And don't take it easy on me.

I want to see that vaunted curveball.

All right, don't be
fooled when it looks like

it's coming right for your head.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Enough
stalling. Let's see it.

Great... even when I'm hallucinating,

I can't hit a curveball.

You ever wondered if
there's somebody out there

exactly like you?

A twin or a doppelganger?

The world's always been fascinated by them.

In ancient times, doubleness was seen

as a manifestation of the supernatural,

an invention of the gods.

Twins have been invaluable in neuroscience

because studying them gives us insight

into how environmental
behavior and genetics

affect things like
brain aging or addiction.

But twin stories touch
us on a much deeper level.

Why is that?

Are we looking for a more
perfect version of ourselves,

the person we wish we were...

Or someone to share our consuming passions?

Maybe we're looking for a soul mate,

someone to complete our lives.

Whatever its genesis, the desire for a twin

is an expression of our need to connect.

Because in this vast and
sometimes overwhelming universe,

only our relationships with other people

can help us not to feel so...

alone.

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