I got to get out of here.
I have a Bible study.
For the faithful interested in...
- Exodus. - Exodus.
Honey,
I'm home.
Darling.
Oh, finally liberated from that wretched cell.
Oh, I should never have doubted your brilliant,
cunning mind.
? Leave the other behind... ?
Drink that quickly. I'd like to have sex.
Happy to oblige.
? Not often kind ?
? Did you ever have to make up your mind? ?
? Did you ever have to finally decide? ?
You're awful quiet.
How 'bout a "Welcome home, Dad.
"I missed you, Dad.
Tell me all about your thrilling escape, Dad."
Or silently judge me.
I don't care.
Problem is, you do.
'Course...
none of this is real.
It's not going to be that easy.
Stop.
No, no. No.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
Jessica, pour our boy a drink,
right now.
This is a dream.
Or, more precisely,
A pathetic delusion.
Wake up, Dr. Whitly.
That little killjoy.
Yes, you're almost at the top!
You own this hill!
But check in with your form...
Get those shoulders out of your ears!
You're killing it!
You are killing it.
When did that become a compliment?
_
Good morning, Dr. Whitly.
My boy.
How'd you sleep?
I didn't.
That's a shame.
Sometimes a man's dreams are his only respite.
Or a hellscape where his worst fears
play out on a nightly basis.
I guess I was talking about myself.
Well, you are a narcissist.
And you, understandably,
are still processing the significance of, uh...
your recent indiscretions.
Let's have another session today.
I'll have Mr. David pencil you in for 4:00.
Are we free?
Great.
4:00 works.
That good for you, son?
I'll be dealing with my problems
the same way as I always have.
Ah. By pushing them deep down,
dulling them
with pharmaceuticals and gin.
Your mother, she did a real number on you.
Well, if we can't talk feelings, let's at least talk murder.
Tell me about your latest case.
I don't have a case.
We've got a case.
A case.
Is that Gil?
Put me on speaker.
Oh.
Everything all right?
Better now.
Where are we headed?
Westchester. There's been a murder at Remington Academy.
Mayor pressed me to take the reins.
'Course he did.
We must protect the children of the rich at all costs.
I know that you don't want to go back...
To the oppressive boarding school
from which I narrowly escaped? Nope.
And they don't want to see me either.
What if I say I need you?
I'll consider it.
But only if the victim is Headmaster Brumback.
So I guess it's my lucky day?
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
The school has the kids in lockdown.
Let's go, Bright.
I don't even remember his first name.
Headmaster Nathaniel Brumback.
And this is the rest of his office.
Apparently, Brumback was an academic legend.
Yeah. A legend of accepting thinly-veiled bribes
from wealthy New York families
all so their kids could attend
one of the most prestigious boarding schools
on the East Coast.
Bright went to school here.
Of course you did.
Can you shed some light on the pool party?
Senior prank. Remington tradition.
When I was here,
they forked the quad.
JT's losing it.
The baby's a week overdue. And if Tally doesn't give birth
in the next 24 hours, they have to induce.
When's the last time he had intercourse?
Ask him. Ask him.
Actually, hold up. Let me put a finer point on that.
When was the last time that JT brought Tally to orgasm?
Oxytocin can help trigger labor contractions.
Plus, the prostaglandins in JT's sperm...
Okay.
What do you have, Edrisa?
Oh. It's a real trip in here.
And it's all the contents of a stodgy office setup.
Phone, banker's lamp, pen cup.
Even a sad desk fern.
And our victim?
He was bound to the chair, carefully positioned.
You know, I wish you could've seen it intact.
It really... completed the whole vibe.
So we're looking at a drowning?
Uh, can't be sure.
Back in a few.
Brumback was a gatekeeper.
So check out resentful parents, ex-teachers.
His enemies aren't just adults.
He was tough.
A disciplinarian.
A student killed him?
Murder's a bit of an escalation
- from forking. - Dani's right.
Kids wouldn't do this.
The kids here might.
Remington Academy.
You're kidding me.
It was my choice.
Oh, it was your choice?
No, no. This reeks of your mother.
High school should be...
should be fun.
I just need a break,
try something new.
Be someone new.
Oh, you're changing your name.
You don't want to be Martin Whitly's son.
I don't want to be The Surgeon's son.
O-Okay, okay. So, um...
So how are you gonna complete this transformation?
What are you...
what are you gonna call yourself? Malcolm...
Bright.
- Malcolm Bright. - Malcolm Bright.
Hmm.
It's not bad.
Good luck, son.
Those bastards at Remington won't know what hit 'em.
Professor Delaney.
Good Lord. Malcolm Bright.
It's been a minute, hasn't it?
Oh. You must be, uh, Lieutenant Arroyo.
Thanks for being here. I'm Alan.
Uh, so the board's chosen me as interim headmaster.
Which may be more of a curse than a privilege.
Why is that?
Well, the Brumback baggage.
There's not a kid on this campus who doesn't dread
having to report to this office.
How many in the senior class?
127 students.
More like suspects.
Easy. Let's keep an open mind.
I'm not worried about his mind, Lieutenant.
I've been in awe of it for almost 15 years.
You do your thing, Malcolm.
Besides,
your mother has assured the board
that the investigation would remain...
discreet.
My mother?
Around here,
it's vice chairwoman.
Professor Delaney, I assume the reunion has been auspicious?
You called the mayor.
Why would you make me come back here?
I needed this handled delicately,
and he would have said no.
I think I might say no now.
Malcolm, please.
My family helped build this school.
If the press report that the headmaster
was found dead in Pop-Pop's aquatic center,
how soon until they connect that back to me?
We'll need to review the headmaster's recent schedule,
phone records.
I'll talk to his secretary.
Thanks, everybody.
Malcolm,
I'm glad you're here.
Uh...
And I'll go and...
profile.
What are you really doing here?
The last time we were together, you told me to get lost.
That was personal.
This is professional.
Oh, Gil, we're adults.
Surely we can separate the two.
Talk to me.
Well, there are two crimes.
One is a prank.
Elaborate yet childish.
And the other is a murder.
This is a case of teen brain.
Teen brain?
You're kidding.
- He's kidding, isn't he? - Not usually.
Explain teen brain.
It's the psychological state of adolescence.
The frontal cortex of a typical teenager is underdeveloped.
They can't weigh the consequences of their actions.
And I thought it was all the spiced rum I drank.
Not here, of course.
Adolescence is also when certain mental disorders
can surface,
even psychopathy.
Combine teen brain with that
and you get something
a lot worse than a hangover.
"The Lord Jesus
"will be revealed from heaven
"with his mighty angels in flaming fire,
inflicting vengeance on those who do not know God."
That's why I always stay away from the shrimp.
Let's break into discussion groups.
That's great, Pete.
Just great, but I think God has plenty
of fire and brimstone for me in the next life.
I have to escape in this one. Hmm?
Good Doctor, we must maintain appearances.
Commune with Brother Darryl.
He's prayed on our problem deeply.
Commune? With him?
Who among us can pass judgment?
What is a Foley balloon?
Uh, an inflated catheter
inserted into the cervix to encourage dilation.
Ugh. Poor Tally.
- You okay? - Sure thing.
Great to be back.
Go Stags.
This is your year, right?
The class photo is for graduating seniors.
I didn't make it to the end of the year.
Who told you?!
Nicky!
Your hand is shaking.
Some neuroscientists believe
that the body can store memories.
The tremor?
I wasn't born with it.
Didn't happen till years after my father's arrest.
Bright, did something happen to you here?
Brumback expelled me.
Put my name in his little black...
The book.
Is the headmaster's desk still in the pool?
Yeah.
Why?
Why are you kicking me out?
Because I know what you really are.
Let me out!
Pete tells me you want to talk Exodus.
Tell me. Why should I help you?
Do you have a family, Darryl?
Not anymore.
You want to know why?
Not really, Darryl.
You think you're better than me, Surgeon?
I see myself as better than no other man.
Still, I am
profoundly smarter than you.
So the question is,
why should I help you?
You know about the zones?
Claremont has three security zones... red, green and blue.
All accessible through their own key cards.
The problem is, no guard has all three.
My cellmate Willie is working on that.
- Willie? - Yeah. He's right there.
Willie knows how to cut a man, too.
Uh-huh.
Does he know how to steal a key card?
He already lifted two of 'em.
Now all we need is red.
Sorry I'm late.
I didn't...
Have a seat, Louisa.
This doesn't have anything to do with Brumback, does it?
Why are we here?
We're waiting for someone.
Should I even ask?
Hi. I'm Bright, Malcolm Bright,
and I'll be your profiler today.
Police profiler?
You're a detective?
He's the detective,
but I'll be asking the questions.
You're here because I found Headmaster Brumback's black book.
It's not real.
It's just a myth they tell for scaring the freshmen.
You'd think, right?
But, funny story...
I saw it when I went to school here.
He kept it in a lockbox in his desk. You know the one.
It's floating in the pool.
Hence, the swim.
Right.
The book is reserved
for expulsion-level offenses,
and your names appear on the last page, dated yesterday.
So, tell me... what did you do?
And who wants to go first?
I was in Brumback's office.
But I didn't do anything.
It was about my graduation.
A pep talk for my salutatorian address.
- He knew I was disappointed. - Here we go.
I'm National Honor Society,
editor in chief of the Daily Stag.
Louisa also generously
volunteers her time in our library.
Thank you, Professor Delaney.
I'm sure our beloved headmaster wouldn't want a little thing
like his murder to affect her college prospects.
Dude, you're dripping.
Yeah, water does that.
What's your excuse?
Fine.
Brumback called me in.
He was pissed.
Two girls got in a fight over a status update.
Was one of them your girlfriend?
- They both were. - So gross.
Boys, right? Oof.
Brumback caught me smoking pot,
a so-called "drug" that's legal in 11 states.
Fight the power, Molly.
He was ancient. He had a good run.
Excuse me.
As revolting as that statement is,
none of what's been said here is a motive for murder.
Not necessarily, but you've all exhibited
interesting psychological markers.
Lack of empathy, paranoia,
grandiosity.
It's called survival.
I have one more question.
Did you talk about this before you came here?
- We don't talk. - He's a jock,
she's a stoner, I'm...
- Perfect? - We're not friends.
Can I go now?
I mean...
my condolences to our late headmaster.
They're lying.
- All of them. - Lack of empathy
is not enough to get you to murder.
I don't know if they're murderers.
But I do know they're friends.
They're called "cliques."
It's a high school.
A weird-ass high school, but a high school.
When I pulled out that book, they exchanged looks, glances,
fleeting micro-expressions that indicate a familiarity.
They're hiding something.
Those students are innocent.
Traffic back to the city is gonna be hell.
Maybe I should drive. Reggie's always riding the clutch.
Is that the science lab?
Uh...
LCD display, Kohler-illuminating 200-megapixel camera
with a mag to 1K?
"Physics Club"?
If they have a thermal mass flow controller up in here...
Oh.
It's not even distilled.
Jessica, this needs to stop. You're interfering with my case.
Because I can offer valuable insight.
"Generations of Miltons attending Remington Academy"
is not valuable insight.
You are allowing your unfortunate experience at Remington
to cloud your judgment.
Then maybe you shouldn't have forced me to come back here.
I am on the board of trustees.
I know these students.
Louisa, Anton, Molly... they're all from impeccable families.
So was I, and I was expelled.
And just like you,
none of them is capable of murder.
Oh.
S-Sorry. I couldn't resist.
I used to be in Physics Club.
What are you, a freshman?
No, I'm...
In the wrong place.
Welcome to boarding school, bitch.
It was a fridge full of water bottles,
and these kids acted like I was trying
To steal the compound microscope.
And it was Anton, Louisa and Molly?
According to Delaney,
Remington doesn't have a Physics Club.
Whatever they're up to, it's off the books.
You were right. They're in on it together.
But in on what?
Well, it might not be just water.
There are a handful of drugs that are water-soluble:
MDMA, LSD.
Run a test on the water bottle.
They're not running drugs.
They were cheating.
Huh. The label's a crib sheet.
And if Brumback knew,
they could kiss their Ivy League futures goodbye.
- There's your motive. - Three kids teaming up
- to drown their headmaster? - Oh, it wasn't a drowning.
Brumback was dead before he hit the pool.
The killer used chloramine trihydrate.
It's a poisonous antibacterial agent.
And it wasn't three kids. Not together.
Teen brain doesn't fit with organized crime.
My vote is for Louisa.
Girl's got a heavy fist.
She's the brains.
Louisa Morrison's father is a top hedge fund manager.
If we bring her in for interrogation,
she's coming with a high-priced lawyer at her side.
Then maybe we don't bring her in.
I know of another master interrogator
who's dying to talk to her.
I was so pleased
you could come for a visit.
- I'm the one who's pleased. - Oh.
I desperately needed to get off campus.
Oh, I bet you did.
You poor children.
Have you spoken with your father?
Please don't tell him I'm in the city.
He wants me to come home.
I would want that, too.
A skirmish with the police is not a good look.
Daddy doesn't know about that.
- And he doesn't need to. - Louisa...
if you are holding anything back...
I suggest you come clean.
I should go.
I know about the cheating.
What cheating?
Oh.
I just needed a little help,
one linear algebra exam, but then...
he threatened me.
He said he would out me if I didn't work for him.
Louisa...
you can trust us.
Who murdered Headmaster Brumback?
Ah.
Your collection got a real upgrade.
Well, Remington Academy
is nothing if not disgustingly overfunded.
I come in here for the quiet.
- Books don't talk back. - No.
Unlike most students.
Oh, there we are.
Good as old.
You have a...
purposeful look about you.
- What's happening? - Louisa identified Anton
as the ringleader.
We're here to arrest him.
Anton.
Well, tell me more. You can come in.
Have a seat.
You still claustrophobic?
Are you headed out for the long weekend?
Hamptons.
My mom's sending a car.
Are you sure you don't want to stay on campus this weekend?
I know who you are.
Malcolm...
Whitly.
Your dad lives in a mental institution.
Because he's a serial killer.
No! No!
No. No.
Have an awesome weekend, Whitly.
No. Nicky?
Nicky, come back!
Let me out! Let me out!
Malcolm?
Hey. Malcolm, hey.
You all right?
When I was at Remington...
when Nicky Covington locked me in that closet...
who told him my real name?
You know I defended you to Brumback, right?
You should never have been expelled.
Thank you.
Who told Nicky?
- Brumback must have known. - Why always the detective, huh?
You have a compulsion to solve things.
Just leave it, Malcolm.
Please.
Your dad...
called the dorms,
left a message using your real name.
Sorry.
What the hell?
Were you expecting a helicopter?
All units, all units, Code 9.
Chopper just took off from the south field.
Suspect is on the run. I repeat, suspect is on the run.
Anton's on board?
And it looks like he used Daddy's money, for the getaway car.
A murder in Remington?
Well, forgive me if I root for the killer this time.
Kidding.
Tell me about your case.
I need to know why you did it.
Did what?
No.
Why?
Why did you betray me?
Why would you do something so despicable?
Well, I've been accused of a great deal.
Please be specific.
You told them my name.
You destroyed
my last chance of a normal childhood.
All with one phone call.
To Remington.
How surgical of me.
You're a narcissistic psychopath.
But do you know what else you are?
You are a terrible father.
I was in that closet...
for three days.
No food.
No water.
Trapped.
Was it because I changed my name?
Because I left?
Or was it because I'm nothing like you
and you can't stand it?
How you wish that that were true.
My boy, I have made mistakes...
but not this.
I never called Remington Academy.
I never agreed with your mother's
boarding school "experiment."
But I loved my son.
Still do.
Why should I believe you?
Because you are the one person
I cannot hurt.
Even when my own freedom depended on it.
Go on, do it.
Analyze my sick, deviant mind.
You know I'm telling you the truth.
I asked you about your case.
It's the real reason you're here, isn't it?
Someone's lying to you, Malcolm.
And it isn't me.
Brumback was poisoned.
Chloramine trihydrate.
It's a compound used in, uh, medical sterilization.
It's also a bleach.
It can save old paper,
reduce browning, deterioration.
Professor Delaney.
And he's off.
I confronted my father.
Oh, God.
He denied outing you, I'm guessing.
- Mm-hmm. - Well,
a parent who lies so consistently,
gaslights you at every turn...
I can't imagine how difficult...
that is.
That's why I prefer books to people.
They do not let you down.
Is that why you need so many?
That drive to collect
points to obsession.
Anxiety. Intrusive thoughts.
A need to control one thing
in an out-of-control world.
I can get us the red key.
- How's that? - Guard on my block,
he has a red card.
All I need is your shiv.
- What? - Mr. David's grown fond of me.
It's quite sweet, really.
He almost thinks we're friends.
And I can easily gut him before he figures out otherwise.
Okay.
The book's Hebrew name means...
show us the light, the correct way
to worship our Lord.
Are you profiling me?
No.
But... I've been profiling my father all my life.
He's telling the truth.
Which means...
you're lying.
I should get a lawyer about now, shouldn't I, Malcolm?
NYPD! Hands where we can see 'em!
Anton Currie, you're under arrest.
For what?
Murder.
Not to mention boarding a chopper
to your daddy's handy real estate tax shelter.
I didn't kill Brumback.
You told Nicky my real name.
- I was just a kid. - Please.
You were more than just a kid.
You saw everything.
Having someone so observant around
is inconvenient when you're running a cheating ring,
- wouldn't you say? - For over 20 years,
you gave students the exam answers.
- Why? - Oh, please, these kids.
Their money. Their privilege.
You leave this school with the promise of what?
Anything you want. A fabulous life.
And I am stuck here.
So why shouldn't I get my piece?
Headmaster Brumback was poisoned with chloramine trihydrate.
I use it to restore books.
My profile was wrong.
I wanted to punish those students so badly,
I missed what was right in front of me.
You killed Brumback.
You extorted two young girls.
You're a cheater and a bully.
Anton didn't extort anyone.
Molly, what are you doing here?
I'm scared.
We had to get off campus.
We don't want to be next.
Who are you running from?
Well, you are wrong.
Malcolm, I hel...
I helped kids cheat.
I'm not...
I'm not a murderer. I'm...
Oh!
God.
- What is it? - The sandwich.
She made it.
Louisa.
Unlock the door.
Delaney is dying!
That's kind of the idea.
This vault is secure,
climate-controlled,
and best of all, airtight.
Oh, and the signal in there is utter garbage.
You killed Headmaster Brumback.
Why?
No college is worth this.
Speak for yourself.
My father taught me
you don't let someone like Brumback stop you
from doing what has to be done.
Another thought.
Perhaps the weapon itself is not enough.
Perhaps I'm gonna require the whole kit and caboodle.
- What are you t... - I want the key cards, Darryl.
Not the plan, Surgeon.
Oh, but don't you see?
There's a new plan unfolding.
"Give yourselves over to His guidance."
Amen!
We build lavish temples...
You sure you know how to cut a man down?
Because I do.
Your femoral artery might be a bit difficult to reach
from here, and I'm not sure I'm up for rooting around
in your fetid crotch.
But your carotid and brachial arteries are...
easily accessible.
Several short stabs.
You'd be astonished by the blood flow.
That's why you're doing this?
Your father?
For his approval?
I'm not some rich kid cliché.
No.
You're not, are you?
This is about getting away from him.
College means escape.
Somewhere far.
3,400 miles to be exact.
Oxford.
They called me a legacy here.
- Me, too. - Then you know.
I-It's a lie.
I'm a prisoner.
His boarding school.
His college.
Right into a job at his firm.
- Not anymore. - Running away
won't solve anything.
It'll solve one thing.
I'll never have to see my father again.
But you'll still be his daughter,
and you'll still be a killer.
A killer? No, no.
Delaney is dying!
And when the air runs out in here,
I am next!
Time's up.
That's all for today, my brothers.
Martin, come on.
Friar Pete!
This heathen has brought a weapon into the room.
He's got a knife! Back away, Darryl!
- Martin... - Hands against the wall.
No, he's a Judas! Don't trust him!
He's a Judas!
Better watch your back, Surgeon.
Better watch your back!
You shouldn't have come back.
I'm sorry.
I get it.
I killed somebody, too.
Have a nice weekend, Whitly?
You all right?
Asthma. Asthma.
Asthma.
Looking for this?
It's empty.
Is it?
I never told anyone the whole story.
How I swiped his inhaler...
emptied it.
You were afraid... of the police.
- My father. - Tell me about it.
They can be so...
judgmental.
Actually,
he would have loved it.
He's a serial killer.
No one ever found out what I did to Nicky.
Please...
Headmaster Brumback... sensed it.
The killer inside.
That's the real reason he expelled me.
But he was wrong.
I'm not my father.
Please, somebody help!
Wait. You saved him?
Y-You didn't kill him?
Remind me why I'm still talking to you.
Because Professor Delaney's iron needed time to heat up.
Sorry, Mr. Marlowe.
What are you doing?
There must be a fire suppression system in here.
An alarm?
Yeah. It'll remove all the oxygen from the vault.
- Are you insane? - Maybe.
Louisa Morrison?
I need you to come with us.
Dispatch, we got a Code 170.
It's just a fire alarm.
Another senior prank.
Let's go.
I know, I know.
You don't have to say it.
What the hell's the matter with you, Bright?
Or maybe you do.
I'm fine. Really.
- Guys... - Give us a minute, Powell.
Oh, a whole minute? Come on, Gil.
Can't we just jump to the end?
You say, "A fire? You started a fire
in an airtight vault? Have you completely lost it?"
That's a little performative, but sure.
- Boss, can I, can I just... - And then I remind you
that you arrested Louisa.
We solved the case, saved Delaney's life...
And nearly died of asphyxiation.
All in a day's work.
We've got a baby.
It's a little boy.
Little JT.
Just when we needed some good news.
So, did you close the case?
Well done.
Of course, I wish that you had included me from the start.
I know a great deal about
- poisonous oxidizing agents. - I'm sorry.
Excuse me?
I accused you of something that you didn't do.
And I'm apologizing.
Okay.
Here we are. You're apologizing to me.
These are words I did not expect to hear.
You realize I'm not apologizing for anything else.
Come on, let me have this one little moment.
Apology accepted.
I don't care.
I know that I am, so people say, a little...
problematic.
Problematic doesn't get you chained to a wall.
Oh, no, I meant problematic in the sense that
I'm not all bad.
And that was your mistake at Remington.
You should have owned your last name.
The rich, dashing son of a killer.
Oh, those little devils would have loved you.
Am I right?
You're Malcolm Whitly.
You're my boy. Don't forget that.
Don't worry.
I can't.
Call me tomorrow.
Enjoy Bible study.
I intend to.
"And behold, a voice from heaven said,
"'This is my beloved Son,
with whom I am well pleased.'"
CREDITS