You are gonna sleep. You hear me?
Sleep like the damn dead.
Malcolm, I want you to remember something.
Dad!
We're the same.
You look exhausted.
- Not sleeping will do that. - Night terrors?
I've been seeing new things.
It's like my subconscious is trying to show me something.
- Like what? - Lost memories.
Your father's things are off-limits!
Malcolm, when was the last time you slept through the night?
Tell me about the girl in the box.
- There wasn't any girl. - There was no girl in a box.
Nightmares aren't real. Neither was she.
Hello?
You okay?
Hey!
Hey, I need some help! Hey!
Hey, bro. Back away from my car.
I said move!
Sorry. I just, I, uh...
I just...
need sleep.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Good morning.
Don't lie to your mother. You look exhausted.
If I have to bring you to the hospital,
my whole morning will be shot.
You don't have to worry about me.
What are you so busy with?
I am taking meetings for my charitable work.
I've been thinking that maybe you were right.
Impossible.
I shouldn't be so cloak- and-dagger with my donations.
My family's foundation was once a formidable force for good.
I have put out calls to some wonderful nonprofits
who would really benefit from my...
Cash?
Precisely.
Talk to me.
About what?
You've always listened to my issues.
I want to be here for yours.
These nightmares, your...
memories,
they're getting worse?
Yes. They are becoming more vivid.
I haven't slept in days.
Well... what you clearly need is an epic nap.
What's your take on barbiturates?
Personally, I'm a fan.
Only one thing seems to help me.
Hmm.
I need a murder.
I can't help you, Bright.
Come on. There has to be something.
Nothing that requires a profiler.
No murders, no kinks, no boiling bunnies, nothing deviant at all?
This is New York.
You okay?
I'm amazing. Top of the world.
Because you look like hell.
And that off-the-charts manic thing you do?
- It's off the charts. - Hey, boss.
- Need a ride? - I'll catch up.
Hey. You look horrible.
I know, right? Where are they going?
- It's not your thing. - You don't know that.
I'm into all sorts of things.
It's a drug hit, double homicide.
- And I don't need a profiler. - I hear you. I do.
But would you believe that homicide
appears to be the only thing keeping me sane?
Solving, not doing.
I need this.
What's he doing here?
Hey! Detective Tarmel. How about that game last night?
- Exciting stuff. - Which game?
Oh, you know, the game, with the players.
Forget it. I'll show myself to the body.
No, you won't.
What's the matter? You don't see it?
Allow me.
Huh. A speakeasy.
Cool.
What are you doing here?
I was in the neighborhood.
What do we have?
Two vics, starting here with the... let's be honest...
crappy bodyguard.
His throat was slashed, and his boss didn't get off any easier.
Jacques Desir, 34,
of Haitian descent,
known pusher of molly, other high-end party drugs,
and, yes, cocaine.
He controlled New York's Haitian dealers.
Ruthless but respected.
Allow me.
Ruthless.
Someone cut out his tongue.
And you said you didn't need me.
Talk to me, Powell.
Desir controlled most of Flatbush.
But there is a contested section of Ditmas Avenue
that the Trinitarios have been trying to get
for the Dominicans.
It's an ongoing beef.
And the Trinitarios answer to?
Saulo Reyes.
If the Dominicans are responsible,
Saulo is in the know.
Desir's guys may be looking to hit back hard.
If we're not quick with a collar...
We got ourselves a drug war.
Are we sure this is about drugs?
He's literally covered in drugs.
Yeah, forget about that for a second. This happened fast.
Desir didn't even have enough time to get out of his chair.
He must have been surprised.
Well, he paid that guy good money to not be surprised.
Whoever did this, Desir let them get close.
You think our killer was a friend?
Possibly. At the very least, Desir trusted them.
Bro, this was an execution.
Why did they cut out his tongue?
Psychological warfare.
Cartels have been using it since the '80s.
But this isn't cartel.
You said yourself this is street level, a turf dispute.
How much cocaine is this?
Maybe a kilo? It looks uncut.
- 20K, give or take. - You did a stint in Narcotics.
Get to the point.
If this was a drug hit, strictly business,
then why did the killer dump $20,000 worth of product
on a dead guy?
Seems like bad business.
No, this was driven by anger.
- Like a vengeance killing. - Mm-mm.
Desir's crew was tight. This is about turf or product.
Oh, I'm not the expert that you are...
Oh, look at that.
We finally agree on something.
You're wrong.
We need a sit-down with the Dominicans.
I'll make the call.
Thank you.
What did I say?
Lay off the Dani profile.
Not everyone's so keen on revisiting their past.
Why are we here?
After the '90s, gangs and police made a deal
that churches are safe spaces.
Cops like Gil negotiated truces between them,
saved a lot of lives.
Saulo.
Lieutenant Arroyo.
I can only imagine we're here
to pay our respects to the late Desir.
Did you do it?
If you ordered Desir killed, they'll come for you.
You'll lose men and product. Let me stop them.
I am a legitimate businessman, Gil.
Off the record, though...
none of my people were responsible.
You want Estimé.
He's lying.
Xavier Estimé was in Desir's camp.
They were friends.
Friends become enemies overnight in this business.
He's nonviolent. You know, like you.
Estimé doesn't even move product.
I don't know who your girl is,
but she's working off stale intel.
Estimé was Desir's number two.
With a bullet.
Now, he's number one.
That's not true.
If you didn't order the hit, who did?
- Just give us a name. - Powell.
Insubordination is a dangerous thing.
one person has something to say, then all the other guys
start thinking they can have an opinion.
Ignore it.
- Undermine you. - Ignore it.
Sabotage the whole project.
You and I have different leadership styles.
I wish I could help, 'cause you're right.
This is war.
But it's not my war.
This was between Desir and Estimé.
Sorry. Sorry.
I-I thought I saw a bug.
I hate bugs.
Who is this?
Mr. Bright is our profiler.
Desir had his tongue cut out.
Why would someone do that?
People are superstitious.
But not you. You're a religious man.
Catholic. You blessed yourself before you sat down.
Some cultures believe you remove a part of the body after death,
you trap the soul inside it forever.
Damning them to walk the Earth.
That's how you know I've got nothing to do with this.
I don't need a bunch of ghosts following me around.
You and me both.
What are you working on?
My profile.
Saulo's a killer. You see that, right?
Of course he is.
But he's not Desir's killer.
Neither is Estimé.
So...
if you're thinking that he fits your profile,
back off.
Tell me why.
Profiles are built on information.
And right now, our information points to Estimé.
But I don't know him like you do.
- Or did. - Don't do that.
What?
Profile me.
I want to help you,
but I can't do that until you help me understand.
I don't know Estimé.
You do.
Edrisa's report is in.
The powder on the body wasn't coke.
Mix of psilocybin and MDMA.
Huh. Mushrooms and ecstasy.
Sounds like a particularly rousing combination.
Is there anything in there that will actually help us
catch our killer?
Desir and the bodyguard were killed with the same blade.
But the spatter pattern was irregular.
The bodyguard was covered in blood,
but Desir's chest was clean, like he was wearing
some kind of outer layer.
Okay.
There's something else.
The bodyguard was killed second.
Uh, the DNA transfer proves it.
Our killer never went through security.
Desir knew him.
Like a friend. I think.
We got to talk to Estimé.
Okay.
Let me do it.
No. You're too close to this.
See, I-I think that that, that is a good thing.
Dani, you're wrong.
Work up a warrant.
When the judge says we're good,
we go in together; no moves until then.
Everybody got it?
Got it.
Kimberly.
Have Louisa clean all this up.
All of it? There's still time, if someone's running late.
Let's not fool ourselves.
Four guests, four no-shows. We all know what this is.
No one wants anything to do with The Surgeon.
Even though it's my money, not his.
I can follow up.
That won't be necessary.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Whitly.
I'll have one, if you're pouring.
And you are?
Eve Blanchard. I'm here for your money.
Ms. Blanchard...
Oh, you won't find me on that list.
I slipped past your housekeeper.
Not the best security.
I'm an attorney.
I heard your foundation is looking for
a good cause to invest in.
I hope you don't mind me crashing.
I prefer a personal approach.
You're an attorney?
I have a rather particular focus.
I fight human trafficking.
Finding funding isn't easy.
Do you know who my ex-husband is?
I do.
Hopefully you won't judge me by my exes either.
I'm looking for a smart partner with deep pockets.
And if you really are interested in making a tangible impact
on a global scale, I'll take that drink.
Rocks?
Neat.
? And it's just like an old friend ?
? Coming up, yeah, I know them ?
? Drop-top in the driveway ?
? Locked up 'cause it's slow then ?
? I've been looking for problems ?
? One look and I'm all in ?
? Is it late in the morning? ?
? If I fall down, then I can keep crawling... ?
- Come here often? - Listen, I'm not...
Damn it, Bright, what are you doing here?
Can't sleep. What's your excuse?
This is Estimé's club.
I'm gonna get a lot more out of Estimé
than 12 dudes with guns pointed at him.
Well, you wouldn't disobey Gil unless you had to,
so why do you have to?
The answer is "yes," to your bad pickup line.
Yes, I come here often.
At least I-I used to.
You weren't just in Narcotics. You were undercover.
Two years.
Excuse me.
Mr. Estimé would like to have a word with both of you.
? It's in my blood and bones... ?
Are you sure that guy's not dangerous?
Because in my experience, people who lurk
behind giant windows in nightclubs are up to no good.
You're profiling a window?
That's a bad-guy window.
Trini, give us the room.
Come on, girls.
There's a lot of drugs in that box.
It's fine.
It's been a minute.
You look...
better than the last time I saw you.
He a cop, too?
We're here about Desir.
Who killed him?
Does it matter?
Everyone thinks it was me.
Is everyone right?
I heard you were his right hand.
Moving product, women.
I told them that's not the Estimé that I knew.
Come on. Where's my sweet girl?
The one who used to party down.
I had nothing to do with it.
People change, for better and for worse.
You forget what I did for you?
Why do you think I'm here?
I'm trying to help you.
But if you don't tell me the truth,
the cops are gonna be all over you.
- You got hard. - I grew up.
I had to.
I have so many questions.
- And I am answering them. - They're all for Dani.
How do you know this guy, and what happened between you?
- What are you doing? - Agreeing with you.
He's exhibiting stress reactions
a profiler could spot from space.
Yo, I don't care who you're rolling with,
I'm not scared, and I didn't kill...
Desir? I know.
You're posturing, pretending to be hard.
'Cause drug dealers are scary.
Problem is you're not a killer.
Dani's been telling me that all day, and now I see it.
What really happened with you and Desir?
I can't help you if you don't tell me the truth.
Desir was my friend.
I loved him like a brother.
Tell your people I didn't do this.
Get down!
Let's go! Keep your head down!
Bright, you good?
What the hell were you thinking?
I knew that Estimé would talk to me.
- I made a call. - Before we had a warrant.
That's not a call. That is disobeying a direct order.
And Estimé's now... where?
I know what this looks like, but Estimé did not kill Desir.
He is in way over his head.
Dani's right. He didn't do this.
But I have a question.
Why is everyone moving in slow motion?
You okay, Bright?
When my father was arrested, you helped to fill that void.
You showed me what a good man looks like.
What a good man is.
He's high as a kite.
I'm higher than a kite.
Estimé's stash exploded on him during gunfire.
Oh.
What about you?
I'm fine.
- Yeah? - I promise.
Good.
Take him home.
What? We are in the...
If you can't behave like a cop, try babysitting
till he comes down.
JT and I have work to do.
All right, the best thing you can do
for the next seven hours or so,
just stay calm and drink lots of water.
Or... we throw axes!
- What? - You and me.
Broad-bladed axes.
I have five.
No, six.
Doesn't matter. We have plenty.
No.
Wow! God, this feeling!
My-my neurons are on fire.
You know, people say that dopamine triggers pleasure.
But really, it's about desire.
Want to dance?
Bright, I'm two seconds away
from kicking you in the business.
And business is good.
Answer me this, though.
? You know when that shark bites... ?
No. No, lost it.
Ah, my short-term memory is just...
Okay. Why don't you go throw some water on your face,
and I'm gonna make you something to eat.
Right.
Right. Let's make...
crumble.
Grilled cheese?
You know what? I will never forget this.
- I'm pretty sure you will. - Thank you.
For taking care of me.
What are friends for?
Wait. We're friends?
Really?
N-No. Not...
I mean, not really, but not-not yet.
I'm out of practice with friends.
With companionship.
That's all right.
I... I don't have a lot of friends, either.
I got... issues with trust.
I can't really go there anymore.
You can trust me.
I have Jarlsberg!
And a particularly stinky Brie de Meaux.
Let's do grilled cheese!
Oh. 'Kay.
Go wash up. I'm on it.
- With the...? - I am on it.
Okay.
Hmm?
? Now that Mackie's ?
? Back in town ?
? I said, Jenny Diver ?
? Oh, Suky Tawdry ?
? Look out to Miss Lotte Lenya ?
? And old Lucy Brown ?
? Yes, that line forms ?
- Bright, you good? - ? On the right, babe ?
? Now that Mackie's... ?
No. No.
It's not real.
Bright, you good?
No.
Bright?
Dad?
Not exactly.
This isn't real. You're not real.
Yet, and here I am.
Nestled nicely between your basal ganglia
- and your cerebellum. - Malcolm, my boy.
Wearing your dad's cardigan.
Nobody ever said the subconscious was subtle.
I'm high. I haven't slept.
Sweet dreams, my love.
- That's why this is happening. - Sure.
Would you like some flannel PJs?
Perhaps a glass of warm milk?
Let me out of here!
Don't you get it?
We're all in here together.
I'm only trying to show you the truth about yourself.
They call you a monster.
You're a hallucination.
I'm your subconscious. Your ego. Your id.
The Ghost of Christmas Past.
Call me whatever you want.
Just stop ignoring me!
Buddy, I get it.
These nightmares you're having...
nightmares you're having are rough.
- What's in here? - Fragments of this,
bits of that... bits of that.
That station wagon.
What did Dad do?
What did we do?
What you need is context. Am I right?
Something to help you stitch all this crazy together.
Bright?
I remember that.
After he was arrested, Mom burned all of the photos
- and mementos of Dad. Whoosh. - Get him out of here.
Proof of his existence, up in smoke.
- But you hid this box from her. - Bright, you good?
Under your childhood bed.
Find it. It'll help.
- Bright? - Here.
So you don't forget.
Bright? Bright?
Relax.
Relax. Bright, calm down.
Calm... Hey, hey. Bright!
Morning! Coffee?
- I'm good. - How did you sleep?
On a counter.
Why is my jaw killing me?
I punched you.
It worked.
I slept five hours.
I should have you slug me every night.
I could tell last night was hard.
Seeing Estimé.
What was he like when you first met?
When I was undercover, I infiltrated Desir's crew.
A hostess girl?
We sold drinks, drugs.
Most of the girls, they came from Haiti after the earthquake.
I managed to get close to him, gather evidence.
But everything went sideways.
Estimé made you.
We got too close.
He kept it a secret.
Never told anyone else I was a cop.
And then he saved me.
You OD'd.
That's why Gil was worried about you around drugs.
Did you get hooked undercover?
I thought that it made me extra qualified,
but it just... it just made me extra stupid.
When I hit bottom, Estimé was the only one
in Desir's crew who cared.
He took me to the hospital.
If it wasn't for him, I...
That's how I know he didn't do this.
- Morning. - Morning.
Our boy back to normal?
Ah, yeah, his version of it.
- Look, Gil, I... - I know what Estimé did for you.
And I understand you wanting to protect him, but...
He's a suspect, and I shouldn't have broken rank.
I'm sorry. It won't happen again.
Make it up to me.
We think Saulo was behind the shooting at the club.
JT is running down his crew.
How do you know it's Saulo?
We caught one of Estimé's hostesses leaving the club
with a semiautomatic; traced it back to the Dominicans.
Okay. Let me talk to her.
Thank you, Mrs. Whitly. You are incredibly generous.
Please. It's Jessica.
Maybe it's best if I do contribute anonymously.
The Whitly name doesn't exactly scream victims' rights.
We can accommodate that.
I just... I have to ask.
You were a Milton before you married.
Mm.
That's practically royalty in this city.
Why did you keep it "Whitly"? His name?
Well, I... had been a Whitly longer than I'd been a Milton.
And I'd done a lot of good as a Whitly.
I let that man take so much from me.
I wasn't gonna give him that.
That is amazing. I love you.
Yes. Oh, well.
If only we were sophomores at Wellesley.
Oh. Okay.
Mother! I'm back.
Don't worry. I'm not after your barbiturates.
I have company, dear.
Oh. Uh...
- Uh, hi. - Hi.
I just need to grab something from upstairs.
Um, box of old stuff
- I kept under my bed. - What old stuff?
Uh, pictures. Maybe a two-dollar bill.
You know, memories.
That we want to remember?
A good amount of drugs exploded in my face last night.
Long story, work related.
But it led to a breakthrough of sorts.
If there were a secret shoebox
where you stored memories of your father...
I never said it was a shoebox.
Whatever kind of box it was,
it went up the chimney with the rest of his things.
Sorry for the interruption.
Eve, this is Malcolm.
My son.
Pleasure to meet you, Malcolm.
Eve fights global human trafficking.
I'm giving her all of our money.
Thank God.
And what do you do?
- I'm in law enforcement. - Let's not dwell on that.
Yeah, it's mostly boring office work.
With exploding drugs?
That doesn't sound... boring to me.
Yeah. Well...
It's not always... boring.
- Hey. - I remember you.
- From the club. - Mm-hmm.
So you're a cop now?
I was a cop then.
Had me fooled.
What happened to Estimé after I left?
H-How did he get dragged into this?
Desir got to him.
Then Estimé started making real money,
but his heart wasn't in it.
Then why did he stay?
Fabiola. A hostess who worked with us.
She was amazing.
Pretty.
That girl could do hair like it was art.
He fell for her hard.
What happened to her?
What did you find out?
Estimé... he fell for one of Desir's hostesses.
Fabiola Cadichon.
Let me guess.
Desir didn't want to give her up.
Estimé begged him.
Desir, he-he didn't take the rejection well,
so he sent Fabiola to mule heroin.
Balloon burst and she died.
I'm sorry.
I was right.
Estimé wouldn't kill for turf or product.
This was about love.
Check the awning.
Fabiola had a gift for hair.
He bought it for her.
Solid profile.
I learned from the best.
Thanks.
I meant Gil.
He used to say, "Police work is patience."
Him and JT are pulling a warrant.
What?
He used to tell me the same thing when I was a kid,
bored on some stakeout.
"Police work is patience."
He used to take you on stakeouts?
Mm, people have said my childhood was weird.
I don't see it.
What?
I...
I just always thought we were so different.
Turns out Gil saved us both.
Hold on. I got a mark.
That's Trini. She takes care of the hostesses.
Looks like she's about to take care of someone else.
Gil, it's Powell.
I think I got Estimé. 624 Glenwood Road.
Wait for backup.
Estimé won't hurt me. I know that.
Still...
you don't have to face him alone.
I think I do.
- Estimé. - We don't take walk-ins, Dani.
We know about Fabiola.
Fabiola is dead.
I bought this whole thing for her.
It was her dream.
To have a shop, cut hair, have kids.
I used to have big dreams.
Then I met Fabiola,
and all I wanted to do was make her little dreams come true.
But Desir wouldn't let her go.
He killed her, so you killed him.
No. He made a mistake.
But he was like a brother. I didn't kill him.
I couldn't kill anyone.
You think I want this, Xavier? To bring you in?
I don't.
But you made your choice.
These are waterproof.
What?
Desir... his chest was clean of blood
because he was wearing an outer layer when his throat was cut.
He was wearing one of these.
Where did Fabiola learn to cut hair?
It's a skill.
Who taught her?
Her mother, back in the islands.
I never met her.
Yes, you did.
- Drop it! - What the...
Don't move, Estimé.
Meet Trini Cadichon.
Fabiola's mother.
- Don't do it, Trini. - What'd you do, Trini?
You cut Desir's hair, too.
He was wearing one of these when you slit his throat.
Caught the blood as you took his tongue.
Desir put Fabiola on that plane...
my baby,
with his poison inside her.
It wasn't my fault.
You didn't stop Desir.
Now I have nothing, not even a grave
- for my love. - Where is Fabiola? Her body?
Desir left her in the Meadowlands.
Trini, he knows where Fabiola is.
You kill him, that goes, too.
But if you let him go, I promise you,
we will find your little girl.
And she can finally rest...
in peace.
Trini.
Who is that? Backup?
- No. It has to be Saulo. - They found me.
They're here to kill me, too. You might as well do it, Trini.
Shut up, Estimé!
Trini, what do you think?
It's up to you.
What's more important, revenge or burying your daughter?
First person to walk out that door...
Wait.
She's a cop.
Detective Powell, is it?
What are you doing here, Saulo?
Making a social call.
And what brings you out to this fine corner of Flatbush?
Here to see Estimé, I assume.
- What's all this blood? - He's dead.
Killed by the hairdresser who took out Desir.
Daughter died moving product for them.
I guess it was revenge.
Care to stay and make a statement?
No, I think we'll be going, Detective.
It's getting late.
See you around.
Better hope not.
Let's roll.
She's really buried in the Meadowlands?
Yup.
You'll find Fabiola...
here.
You really gonna get her buried right?
Trini may be going to jail, but I made a promise.
Her daughter will get a proper burial.
Okay, you got to go.
Saulo thinks you're dead. You need to stay that way.
This is your chance to get out,
away from that life.
You really found a way to put it all behind you, huh?
Yeah, I did.
Now it's your turn.
Thank you.
Peace offering.
Freshly brewed Earl Grey tea.
I love Earl Grey.
I know.
It's the aroma, isn't it?
Think you mentioned your grandma used to make it...
Damn, I'm doing it again, aren't I?
You could always just ask.
Okay. Friend.
What is it?
You've saved Estimé, caught the killer.
Why no celebration?
They pulled me out August 2016.
Fabiola arrived that October.
You were Narcotics, not a social worker.
You couldn't have helped Trini or Fabiola.
I guess we'll never know, right?
That's the part that kills me.
What would Freud say to that?
That unresolved emotional conflicts
often manifest in dreams,
because a representation of the true problem in our subconscious
is far less damaging to the ego
than processing the actual object in the conscious...
He'd also say, "Drink more tea.
With friends."
Malcolm,
I sent Adolpho over with...
Well...
I don't know what you're looking for
or why you insist on doing this,
but it is yours.
Good night.
It'll help.
During this missing time...
what did you do?
And why can't you remember?
It's real.
*CREDITS*