The Closer s07e19 Episode Script
Last Rites
Father Adam? Oh, so sorry.
Last rites.
Here's the address.
The doctor's on call, so he'll leave the door unlocked if he has to go.
What shall I say? Ah, that I'll be there as soon as I get my things together.
Oh, and, uh, coffee, please, Mrs.
Debbie.
Let's see.
Apartment 4.
Dr.
Hanlin? Hello? Doctor? Arnold Basky.
Arnold Basky.
Mr.
Basky.
Mr.
Basky? It's Father Adam from St.
Angelo's? Would you like me to hear your confession? Mr.
Basky? Would you like me to anoint you? God of mercy, ease the sufferings and comfort the weakness of your servant Arnold, who the church anoints with this holy oil.
Right through his collar, sir.
Murdered priest in a grade-school parking lot.
Makes me think bad things.
Hey, guys, I couldn't find any visible blood in the front seat, only in the back where this rug was.
Fellas, we need to move the priest's body out of here A.
S.
A.
P.
Oh? How soon? I still have a lot of stuff to do here.
Chief Johnson won't want us to move the body until we're done -- Yeah, where is Chief Johnson? Well, she's at home taking care of her father.
Something I can do for you, sir? I was just on the phone with the Archbishop, and I promised him we would try to minimize the students' exposure to this tragedy.
I'll find something to cover him up, sir.
Thank you.
And with all due respect, Chief, we need to find out if this rug is from the priest's room or -- No, no.
Not yet.
What do you mean, "no, no.
Not yet"? The Jesuits who run this school have requested that we wait for an archivist from their order to collect the dead priest's journals and documents before we search the room.
Sounds like Father Adam here may have been up to something that the church doesn't want us to see.
The diocese has had services at this cathedral for five L.
A.
P.
D.
officers in the past year, two of whom were not even catholic.
So we will treat their dead with the same respect that they have shown ours.
And we'll give them a moment to gather the victim's belongings while I make a deal with the Archbishop to examine his papers.
In the meantime, can we discreetly get a coroner's van around here to get rid of the body? And let's get this vehicle out of here, too.
And if Chief Johnson has a problem with any of that, she can take it up with me.
Well, I guess we can all stop wondering if the Pope's Catholic.
"If Chief Johnson has a problem with that"? Tao! Coroner.
Sanchez, uh, get a tow truck.
And -- and -- oh! Make sure that their emergency lights are switched off, lest we threaten the delicate balance of church and state.
Daddy, why don't you use the walker? We had it made special for you.
Answer your phone.
I'mI'm fine.
Answer the phone! Okay.
Okay.
Oh, Brenda Leigh! Oh! Oh, Daddy! Mama, I'm so sorry.
Daddy, are you okay? If I'd have known how hard it was to get up, I would have stayed in bed.
Well, the doctor said it's important for you to move around, and it's gonna take a while for these new drugs to balance out your hormones, okay? I've been here a week already.
Yes, but remember Atlanta, Clay? You could hardly move at all.
Okay.
Okay, the bed's right here.
Yes.
I'm fine.
I justjust need to catch my breath.
Okay.
I'm fine.
Okay.
Mom, how in the world have you been dealing with this all on your own? Believe it or not, this is better.
- This is better? - This better! This new therapy's working.
Now we have to see how far it takes us.
Answer the phone! Yes! Yes, Lieutenant.
Is there a problem? Well, only if you consider arguing with the Pope over a bunch of 2,000-year-old superstitions a problem.
The Pope? Here, talk to a believer.
What? I'm not Catholic.
Uh, hi, Chief.
Pope doesn't want us to search the rectory before an archivist can gather -- Wait a minute.
What kind of an archivist? Uh, an archivist.
It's a Jesuit official.
The archivist collects all the dead priests' journals and writings.
It's kind of a ritual thing they do.
Oh, yeah? Well, I have an L.
A.
P.
D.
ritual thing that says no one goes in or out of the rectory where our murdered priest lived until we have a chance to look around.
Understood? Um, Pope wants -- Yeah, well, tell Chief Pope I'm coming down.
Heaven's sakes.
Go.
Take care of your murder.
Yeah, but Daddy almost fell down a minute ago.
Mama, maybe we should get some help? He won't have help.
He has to think he's doing everything himself, even if it kills him.
Well, don't be afraid of that.
I mean, the doctor said we're in no danger of losing daddy.
I'm not afraid of losing him.
I'm worried about how to keep him.
Hey, Chief.
Pope just let the archivist go into the rectory.
Is there a back way? Uh, no, ma'am.
But there's a front one.
Switch here.
Excuse me.
Yes? Can I help you? I'm deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the L.
A.
P.
D.
And is the room of the priest -- Uh, ma'am, you shouldn't be here.
I need you to leave.
Actually, you shouldn't be here.
Who are you, anyway? I'm Mrs.
Wallingham, the rectory supervisor, and you have to leave right now.
You need to step aside, or I'll put you under arrest.
Wait! You cannot go in there! Hello, sir.
What are you doing? I'm collecting Father Adam's personal records and journals.
Why, what's in 'em? His daily activities, his private thoughts, prayers.
All right, then.
We'll be taking those.
You would have to take my life first.
Lucky for me, I'm armed.
Sit down.
Yeah, Chief.
Detective, what size was the rug our victim was rolled up in? Uh, about 6'x9'.
Well, that could fit.
I don't know.
I -- Brenda, where -- what are you doing? I'm searching the room of a homicide victim.
Say "hi" to the Archbishop for me, would you? When was the last time you saw Father Adam? Around 2:00 a.
m.
this morning.
I made the Father coffee, and he went out to a last rites call.
Where was he going? Look, someone's out there murdering priests.
You want to be responsible for the next one who dies? Where was Father Adam going? Here's the apartment's address.
A doctor called it in.
Thank you.
Chief Johnson, come with me.
Why? Come on.
Hurry.
Oh, too late.
Uh, Chief Johnson, you have created a major problem here.
Chief Johnson, you are undermining my negotiations with the church and I need you out of this rectory now.
Not till we get Father Adam's journals, which they're doing everything possible to hide from us.
They're not hiding anything.
Look, the church has spent $500 million dollars addressing their sins of the past, and they're nervous that people are -- You think I don't know why they're worried?! A priest who teaches at an elementary school gets murdered? It does scream angry parent, sir.
Look, for all we know, the killer is another priest who lives here! Of course, to figure that out, we'd have to actually search this place like we were conducting a legitimate investigation.
Okay.
I think you are exhausted, and I think you're letting your father's health problems affect your decision making Don't you bring my father into this.
which is completely understandable.
This has nothing to do with some kind of a personal response.
Now is not the time for you to try to supercede command decisions.
This is an action.
I need you out of here, now! Apartment 4.
Yes, this is the right one.
Yeah, you know, I can't think of the tenant's name.
He's pretty new here.
Do you have his lease? Sure, it's in the office.
Oh.
But, uh, Detective? Yeah.
Thank you.
Hmm.
Bless me father, for I have done nothing but watch pornos.
Yeah, well, I guess it goes with the wine coolers.
Hey, guys.
Back here.
I'm thinking an area rug left this nice impression on the wall-to-wall carpet.
Yeah, 6'x9'.
Huh.
All right, guys.
Oh.
Check this out.
Hmm.
Gentlemen.
Oh, no.
Freak.
Hey, uh, I don't know what's going on here, but Oh.
This apartment is leased to an Adam Gray as in our victim -- Father Adam.
Those poor girls looked up to that priest, and he took advantage of them.
Well, mama, we don't know what was going on in that apartment.
We haven't found any fingerprints on the pictures, hardly any in the apartment at all, actually, which is strange.
And we haven't found any of the priest's DNA on the girls' clothing.
Shouldn't you be talking about all that with the parents? Well, Fritz is helping the L.
A.
P.
D.
with the molestation issues.
Oh, now y'all are rearranging your whole lives because of me.
No, no, Daddy.
Not at all.
It's just that the FBI has a lot more resources for that kind of thing than we do.
So, if there was anything else to be doing, I'd be doing it.
What's the matter, Daddy? You didn't like your soup? Oh, it's fine.
But my taster's not.
The doctor said the drugs would have that affect.
But if everything's gonna taste like mud, what's the point of being alive? Well, I'm so glad to hear you're ready to give up and die after I've been staying up all night with you for the past six months and your daughter flew you all the way across country.
All right.
All right.
I'll try again.
I'm back.
Fritzi.
Hey.
How's your dad doing? He's, uhbetter.
Better.
He's not eating much, but he's -- he's walking.
Anyway, uh, what'd you find out? Well, we interviewed the parents of the identified girls without mentioning Father Adam.
It doesn't look like there's any kind of sexual abuse going on.
And our cyber-porn division isn't convinced those pictures were taken by a child molester.
Why not? Well, for one thing, there were too many different girls.
Apparently, active pedophiles groom their targets more carefully.
Look, the pictures are creepy, yeah, but they're not pornographic.
Abuse -- not really seeing it.
Well, that could be enough to convince the church that we're not on some kind of a witch hunt.
I'm gonna go -- oh, no.
Daddy's got an appointment in an hour and a half, and I -- I already took the afternoon off.
Your dad likes my driving better anyway.
Hedid not say that.
Did he? Actually he said you "steer the car like a lost getaway driver.
" Oh, that sounds just like him.
Maybe things are gonna get better.
Yeah.
Well, not if you keep pushing to get this journal.
Although, I suppose suggesting that the photographs we found were not pornographic could help reopen dialog with the archdiocese.
We shouldn't have to reopen dialog.
The church should never have been allowed to take the victim's journal to begin with! Chief Johnson, in a case like this, there are national, possibly international, implications.
In fact, in order to regain the cooperation of the church, the L.
A.
P.
D.
has to give it absolute assurance that our official chain of command will be respected.
I've always respected -- wait a minute.
Is this about what happened with Chief Pope at the rectory? I was only doing my job.
By performing a warrantless search? By threatening a church archivist with your weapon? I didn't threaten anybody.
I had my gun holstered the entire time.
It doesn't matter.
Refusing the orders of a superior is insubordination, and you did it publicly, which is detailed in this unsigned complaint that Chief Pope left with me last night.
He's really this mad? Oh-oh, yes.
And he's frustrated.
At one time, he may have been your friend and something more than that, but he is also your boss.
And he's demanding that you recognize his authority.
I want that journal.
Did you not hear one word that I just said? I kept Chief Pope from signing that complaint by assuring him that you were capable of seeing his position.
The Catholic Church has enormous influence.
How am I supposed to investigate this homicide if the entire power structure here is lining up to protect the poor, defenseless Catholic Church? And why does Chief Pope still have this enormous chip on his shoulder? I mean, I'm ready to put behind how completely horrible he's been.
I don't even need an apology.
I mean, can't we just -- you know? You may be able to let it go, but Chief Pope isn't ready to let it go.
And if you can't keep relations friendly, you need to keep them smart.
What would smart be in this situation? Letting Chief Pope resume his negotiations with the church so that he solves the problem.
He caused the problem.
Fine.
If I let Chief Pope get the journal his way, will he back off on that complaint? Because if he signs it anyway, I will explode.
I really will.
I think before dropping the complaint entirely, he's gonna wait to see how you proceed with your investigation.
Even though the apartment had been wiped down, we did find Father Adam's fingerprints in two different places -- one on the travel mug Mrs.
Wallingham says she made coffee for him that night.
and the camera we found in the bedroom, index finger on the shutter button.
But no prints on the girls' photos, Chief.
Okay, so who hung them up? Sergeant? Well, a Dr.
Hanlin supposedly called the rectory that night.
But there is no physician by that name registered anywhere in the state.
If there's not doctor, then who called for last rites? Maybe the killer.
So, why would the priest answer a call to go to his own apartment? It doesn't make any sense.
Wait a minute.
What if he did have an accomplice? What if "last rites" was like a code to say the place was ready? Oh, you mean like, "I've got the little girls over here.
They're drinking wine coolers.
Let's party"? Yeah, but there's no evidence the young girls were ever in the apartment other than the school uniforms, which were brand-new, like the rug.
The killer probably bought that rug specifically to roll up the body, which means he's highly organized -- suggests he wasn't a beginner, anyway.
Well, I'd still say Father Adam went to that apartment knowing that it was a fake call.
You're forgetting about the olive oil.
Olive oil? Along with the victim's blood, the lab found a small amount of olive oil soaked into the rug.
Priests use olive oil to perform last rites.
They bless the forehead and they bless the hands.
You know, maybe the priest was there doing his job.
Says the guy who goes to confession twice a week.
Oh, you should try it, Andrew.
It feels good.
Hey, listen.
All I know is that the wounds to the good father's neck are up-close and personal.
You ask me, some angry dad found out about the love nest and put an end to it.
If the girls weren't being molested like the FBI said, fathers would have nothing to be angry about.
Look, to be sure, I say we get a warrant for the victim's journal.
I mean, come on.
What are we waiting on? No, no, no.
Chief Pope thinks that would be like a bomb going off.
Hi, mama.
Uh, hang on just one moment.
We don't have the evidence.
How are we supposed to have evidence that we can't collect? How'd it go with the doctor? He says things are looking up.
Oh, mama.
That is such good news.
It is! It is! Of course, there's still a ways to go, and some of his numbers could use improvement.
But that doctor of yours thinks that Clay should be up and at 'em any minute.
His numbers? Oh, on his chart -- his electrolytes and something else.
Oh, that's okay, mama.
We'll go over all that at dinner.
I'll see you then.
Oh, Brenda, one more thing.
I -- Uh, Lieutenant Tao, you said that the camera that we found in the apartment, - its clock was never set properly? - Yeah.
Well, we know they're recent because of who the girls are, but -- Okay, let's blow up these photographs please.
I think if they were a little bit larger I might be able to see what time of day they were taken.
And, uh, Detective Sanchez, while we're on the subject of photographs, would you please have the building manager come in to look at a picture of Father Adam, see if he recognizes him as a tenant.
And I want the lease in an evidence bag, please.
So, what are you thinking, Chief? Somebody's trying to make the priest look dirty? I'm thinking that if he didn't take these photographs, it would explain why he went out in the middle of the night to an apartment he didn't know was his.
Girls in the blue uniform played St.
Angelo's two weeks ago today between 4:30 and 6:00.
Okay, and at that time, Father Adams was with the debate team at another school across town.
Yeah.
This is interesting.
It's quite sunny, but No shadows? Mm-hmm.
So it's midday, and they're not wearing their school uniforms.
That makes it "casual dress" Friday at St.
Angelo's.
And every Friday at midday, Father Adam performs mass in the cathedral.
So, he couldn't have taken these pictures.
Mm-hmm.
Chief? This is the building manager, Mr.
Vincent Morris.
Oh, Mr.
Morris.
Thank you so much for coming in.
And here's the lease.
Wonderful, thank you.
Lieutenant.
Prints and copy for a writing sample? Thank you.
Okay.
Mr.
Morris, do you recognize this man? I don't think so.
His name's on the lease.
Oh, well, that's not the guy who signed it.
And March 23rd, is that the actual day the lease was signed? March 23rd, that's right.
March 23rd.
Let me ask you this.
Do you change the locks in between tenants? Well, I should, but not if they give me back the keys.
Could you give us the name of the previous tenants? Sure, I just need a computer.
Right here.
Oh.
Uh, do you also want a list of exterminator, plumbers, painters, anybody else who comes in and out? That would be very helpful.
Thank you so much.
And Detective Sanchez, could you also pull up the school's website, look through the faculty pictures, see if Mr.
Morris recognizes anyone? Thank you.
Uh, I don't need you for this.
Chief Pope's about to have a conference with the church official.
He wants Commander Taylor to attend.
It's about the journal.
Oh, okay.
Thank you.
Fine.
Commander.
His holiness, the Pope, requests your presence.
Ah, Father Calhoun, you know Commander Taylor, but I don't believe you've met Captain Raydor of our professional standards bureau.
Captain.
Father Calhoun is the superior of the provincial for all Jesuit priests in Southern California.
Thank you for agreeing to meet with us father, and may I say that we are all very, very sorry about what happened yesterday.
We're looking to get back on a better footing, as well.
Oh, forgive me, I was referring to the terrible loss of Father Adam.
My student and my brother in Christ.
I accept your words of sympathy, but the L.
A.
P.
D.
's actions seem to undermine their intent.
Well, let me begin with some news that will help to put your mind at ease.
As I understand it, we're currently favoring a theory of the crime which would clear Father Adam of any misconduct with his female students.
Thank heaven.
Any suggestion he was leading a secret life would harm his legacy forever.
And you could help us make sure that never happens.
How? We would like to see Father Adam's journal.
And before you say no -- Well, of course you can see it.
Really? We can? When? In 2052.
the journal will be unsealed from our archive and it will be all yours.
We only want it for a handwriting sample to confirm that he did not rent that apartment.
You are trying to bait me into giving away the innermost thoughts of an active-duty priest by promising me that it may clear his name.
This woman is no better than the one from yesterday.
Well, I guess we may need to get a warrant for the journal from the district attorney's office.
Any such attempt will be met with the full legal authority of the Catholic Church.
Given the church's resources, Chief, I think we should probably ask to convene a grand jury.
The Catholic Church has grown used to those over the past few years, I should think.
Of course, a grand jury would have to see the pictures of those little girls and the fingerprint on the camera, not to mention all those kids' clothes we found in the apartment.
You just told me you were pursuing an alternative theory of the crime.
Yes.
But the evidence is still the evidence.
Look, I-I'm sure there's some way that we can examine this journal without involving the courts or compromising confidentiality.
Father, suppose we had it for just one day, and the journal never left your presence.
So, technically, it was never released to anyone.
One day? We're just as interested in issues of privilege as you are and I don't have anything specific to look for.
So, why don't I throw out a date and you see what it says, and whether we can look at it.
And then we'll do a handwriting comparison.
What date? How about March 23rd? He was traveling that day to a conference in San Diego.
He writes briefly about the train ride.
Uh, excuse me, Chief.
I showed the apartment manager all the faculty pictures from Father Adam's school.
You did what? Oh, routine procedure, Father.
Just eliminating all the possibilities.
Nothing to worry about.
And he did not recognize any of them.
And none of the former tenants or workers have criminal records.
Okay, I'm not seeing anything similar between these two samples.
Father, this is all good news.
Chief, uh, I have the fingerprint report from the original lease.
We have matches from all the squad who touched it this morning and, of course, the manager, Mr.
Morris, but no prints from Father Adam.
Oh, my.
See? Sharing this journal with us is going to help you enormously.
Pardon me, Father.
Do you mind waiting here for a moment? Certainly.
Certainly.
Where's Mr.
Morris? He left 10 minutes ago.
Did he write anything in longhand while he was here? Oh, I took all the notes, Chief.
He had access to that apartment Who else could set it up like that? And there are no prints but ours and his on that lease? Let's find out if our landlord had a criminal record.
Thank you.
Father Calhoun, would you be willing to look through the journal for the name of a man named Morris? He may have been impersonating Father Adam.
Yes, of course.
But there's an entire box of journals.
Uh, I'd say maybe we start with March 23rd and work our way back from there? Sound good? Well, the manager doesn't have a record exactly, but his name did come up a couple of times.
First, and I don't know how this relates, but according to a traffic-accident report, Mr.
Morris was critically injured in a nasty five-car pileup on the freeway that nearly killed him six months ago.
More importantly, Vincent Morris filed a missing persons on his wife eight years ago.
And she never turned up.
At the time, the only lead the L.
A.
P.
D.
uncovered was a condominium rented under his wife's name in Cabo San Lucas.
But the Mexican authorities never found anyone living there.
Back when Morris' wife first disappeared, the investigating officer made a note of a large area rug missing from the Morris home.
Two abandoned apartments could be a coincidence, but the missing rug makes it a pattern.
Let-- Oh, umput a watch on Mr.
Morris and let me know if Father Calhoun finds his name in the journal.
And I want every detail of the day of that car accident.
Yes, mama.
I'm on my way.
That's fine, but I'll be there.
Chief.
Thank you.
Here's a good one I was telling you about.
The low thyro-- Thyroglobulin.
Low means its cancer's basically undetectable.
Oh, Daddy.
You're getting to be such an expert.
Well, I'll say this for that doctor of yours.
He talks to us so we can understand him.
Look here.
Look at this.
I got my balance back.
Ooh! Now, you just teach your daughter how to carry her stuff back into the kitchen Hey.
Don't ask for more than God can give you.
Dear, I'll take the heavy plates.
You take the silverware.
Hello.
Yes -- uh, hang on.
You were right.
He did need a better doctor.
Oh, thank heaven that's all it was.
Thank heaven.
Uh Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Oh, hi.
Hey, Chief.
Uh, so, we didn't find Mr.
Morris' name anywhere in the journal, but we did find the names of his two sons -- David and Michael Morris.
His sons? What did they have to do with anything? Well, I'm not sure, but the date of the entry is the same day Mr.
Morris was brought to the hospital after his big car wreck.
Was Father Adam there? Yeah.
I checked with the hospital.
He was on call all day.
Yeah, but why would he write down the sons' names? Uh, why would he write down the sons' names? Uh, Chief, when given last rites, dying patients often ask priests to pass messages on to family members, but Father Adam didn't write the message down.
Well, why not? Why is everyone all bent out of shape about this journal if there's nothing in it?! Oh, yeah, yeah, Chief.
Crazy.
Oh, here, Flynn.
Uh, hey, Chief.
I checked into Mr.
Morris' plates, just to see, and his car was towed last night about 30 miles from his home.
He checked it out of impound this morning.
- 30 miles? - Where? Was it parked near someplace where you could do a body dump? Well, we're looking into it.
Where's Morris now? Well, Provenza's got S.
I.
S.
sitting at his house ready to grab him.
Only one day.
I-I-I can't wait that long.
Bring Mr.
Morris in.
I want to have a chat with him.
I'm on my way.
Brenda, you have to go back to work at this hour? Mama, I am so sorry, but I've got a deadline.
Hmm, I thought since Clay was feeling better, you and I could have a little talk.
And we will.
We will.
Well, there's something I really ought to tell you.
It'll only take a minute.
Well, c-can it wait till tomorrow morning? We could have breakfast and talk about whatever you like.
All right.
Tomorrow.
Only, honey, you can't keep working like this your whole life.
It'll catch up with you.
I expect it will.
But not tonight.
Bye.
Mm.
Drive carefully.
What do we know? Chief, we got Mr.
Morris in interview room 1.
I have the full report on Father Adam's vehicle back from the print shed.
Look at this detail.
Father Adam's car was out of gas.
Warning light was on, less than a gallon left.
A car that size, that age, you can only go another 6, 7 miles.
That's when that creep Morris' plan went wrong.
Here's a map of where he left his car.
That's why his car was towed.
He couldn't drive back to it because the priest's car was running on empty.
And Morris didn't dare fill up for fear of gas-station security cameras.
Okay, so he meant to drive here, dump the priest's car and his body, and then drive his own vehicle home.
Morris planned for everything except that poor priest's car running out of gas.
He never intended to dump the body at the school.
Yeah, it was a good save though, 'cause it made the priest look guiltier.
This might be something Chief.
There is a large storage facility three blocks from where Morris left his car just off the freeway exit.
He wouldn't use his own name at that storage facility, but y'all get down there and take this fake apartment lease with you, see if you can match the handwriting to a contract from eight years ago around the time the wife went missing.
Well, a match like that might satisfy God, but I think a judge is gonna want more for a warrant.
Well, then take the cadaver dog with you for insurance.
And, Buzz, leave your camera with Lieutenant Tao, please.
I need you here to help me.
Sure thing.
Detective Sanchez, feel like helping me catch a priest killer? My car died, so I called a cab to get home.
I didn't read the sign properly in the dark, and it got towed.
Is that a crime? No, it's not.
But you do seem to be having a lot of car trouble recently.
Six months ago, you got into a freeway crash.
I'm fine now.
Yes, you are.
According to the accident report, three people were killed on that day.
Close call.
Close enough to call a priest.
Sir, we know you confessed to Father Adam.
You were gonna die.
You asked for last rites.
He wrote it down.
I sincerely doubt that.
It would be a violation of his vows.
Oh, oh, so you are Catholic, then? What difference does that make? Plenty of people talk to priests in hospitals.
This priest was killed in one of your apartments.
Well, that's a sad coincidence, because I don't even remember the guy.
Do you remember giving him the name of your sons? After you confessed, were you thoughtful enough to leave a message for those boys? About a secret you've kept for the past seven years? You said something to Father Adam on your death bed.
Except you didn't die.
That made you anxious, didn't it? Because Father Adam was urging you to confess again, to us, maybe.
Confess what? Well, you could tell us what you did to the mother of your sons.
Or you could tell us that after realizing you'd confessed too soon and you weren't going to die, you lured the now inconvenient Father Adam to an apartment you had set up to kill him and ruin his good name.
How you put his dead finger on the camera shutter and rolled him up in a rug just like you did your wife.
If you think I'm gonna confess to all of that, you're crazy.
Chief, they found his wife's body.
I never thought you'd tell us what you told Father Adam.
For one thing, I can't absolve you.
God sees everything.
Does God see that you have no evidence? Look.
Since you've already read me my rights, I think it's time I call an attorney.
Detective Sanchez.
Sir.
The next time you receive last rites, I'll be there in the viewing room, probably standing next to your two sons.
You make sure you wave before they put the needle in your arm.
That's not gonna happen.
Well, you never know.
And, uh, sir, I forgot to tell you.
We found your wife.
She cleared the church.
That makes you good with Father Calhoun and the Archbishop, so What do you want to do with this complaint? Hey.
Will, I'm -- Look.
I'mvery sorry about barging into the rectory yesterday.
That's not the problem.
I meanthank you.
I appreciate the apology.
I do, but that's not the real issue here.
What is? The real issue is I'm gonna be moving upstairs to run this whole department in my own right, and I'm not gonna be around to watch over you anymore.
You know? Afraid I'll burn the place down? No.
No.
I'm -- I'm afraid you'll burn yourself up.
You know? Somebody's gonna be replacing me as assistant Chief -- your immediate superior.
I think we know who that somebody is likely to be, and he's not gonna spend a lot of time putting up with the kind of crap I've let you get away with over the years.
This was just another attempt to try to change your attitude, whichwasn't gonna work anyway, so Besides, you don't want this complaint on your record, just in case you need to think about circulating your résumé.
Good morning, darling.
Daddy, are you making breakfast? Yeah, pancakes.
I'm letting your mother sleep in.
She's done enough this past six months.
Oh, that's just about the best thing a person could come home to.
Well, pancakes are a wonderful thing.
Now I just need to stay awake long enough to eat 'em.
Good morning, everybody.
Would you look at this? Hey.
Yeah, I know.
I think it calls for a cup of coffee.
Already made.
Help yourself.
Oh, Brenda Leigh, take your mother a cup, would you? She said something last night about wanting to talk to you this morning.
Right.
Take mine.
Welcome home.
Thank you.
Oh, and tell her breakfast in 10 minutes.
Yes, sir.
You sleep well last night? Okay.
Without my daughter tossing around next to you? Mama, you awake? Oh, I hate to wake you up, but daddy said breakfast in 10 minutes, which probably means 15.
Mama? I-I'm gonna put your coffee down here, and you can have it when you're ready, okay? Mama, why don't you go ahead and get up now.
We'll talk.
Fritz!! Fritz!! What? What? Fritz!! Mama, look! What happened?! What happened?! Fritzi, help her! Help her! Help her! No! No! Mama, please, no! Mama! Mama!
Last rites.
Here's the address.
The doctor's on call, so he'll leave the door unlocked if he has to go.
What shall I say? Ah, that I'll be there as soon as I get my things together.
Oh, and, uh, coffee, please, Mrs.
Debbie.
Let's see.
Apartment 4.
Dr.
Hanlin? Hello? Doctor? Arnold Basky.
Arnold Basky.
Mr.
Basky.
Mr.
Basky? It's Father Adam from St.
Angelo's? Would you like me to hear your confession? Mr.
Basky? Would you like me to anoint you? God of mercy, ease the sufferings and comfort the weakness of your servant Arnold, who the church anoints with this holy oil.
Right through his collar, sir.
Murdered priest in a grade-school parking lot.
Makes me think bad things.
Hey, guys, I couldn't find any visible blood in the front seat, only in the back where this rug was.
Fellas, we need to move the priest's body out of here A.
S.
A.
P.
Oh? How soon? I still have a lot of stuff to do here.
Chief Johnson won't want us to move the body until we're done -- Yeah, where is Chief Johnson? Well, she's at home taking care of her father.
Something I can do for you, sir? I was just on the phone with the Archbishop, and I promised him we would try to minimize the students' exposure to this tragedy.
I'll find something to cover him up, sir.
Thank you.
And with all due respect, Chief, we need to find out if this rug is from the priest's room or -- No, no.
Not yet.
What do you mean, "no, no.
Not yet"? The Jesuits who run this school have requested that we wait for an archivist from their order to collect the dead priest's journals and documents before we search the room.
Sounds like Father Adam here may have been up to something that the church doesn't want us to see.
The diocese has had services at this cathedral for five L.
A.
P.
D.
officers in the past year, two of whom were not even catholic.
So we will treat their dead with the same respect that they have shown ours.
And we'll give them a moment to gather the victim's belongings while I make a deal with the Archbishop to examine his papers.
In the meantime, can we discreetly get a coroner's van around here to get rid of the body? And let's get this vehicle out of here, too.
And if Chief Johnson has a problem with any of that, she can take it up with me.
Well, I guess we can all stop wondering if the Pope's Catholic.
"If Chief Johnson has a problem with that"? Tao! Coroner.
Sanchez, uh, get a tow truck.
And -- and -- oh! Make sure that their emergency lights are switched off, lest we threaten the delicate balance of church and state.
Daddy, why don't you use the walker? We had it made special for you.
Answer your phone.
I'mI'm fine.
Answer the phone! Okay.
Okay.
Oh, Brenda Leigh! Oh! Oh, Daddy! Mama, I'm so sorry.
Daddy, are you okay? If I'd have known how hard it was to get up, I would have stayed in bed.
Well, the doctor said it's important for you to move around, and it's gonna take a while for these new drugs to balance out your hormones, okay? I've been here a week already.
Yes, but remember Atlanta, Clay? You could hardly move at all.
Okay.
Okay, the bed's right here.
Yes.
I'm fine.
I justjust need to catch my breath.
Okay.
I'm fine.
Okay.
Mom, how in the world have you been dealing with this all on your own? Believe it or not, this is better.
- This is better? - This better! This new therapy's working.
Now we have to see how far it takes us.
Answer the phone! Yes! Yes, Lieutenant.
Is there a problem? Well, only if you consider arguing with the Pope over a bunch of 2,000-year-old superstitions a problem.
The Pope? Here, talk to a believer.
What? I'm not Catholic.
Uh, hi, Chief.
Pope doesn't want us to search the rectory before an archivist can gather -- Wait a minute.
What kind of an archivist? Uh, an archivist.
It's a Jesuit official.
The archivist collects all the dead priests' journals and writings.
It's kind of a ritual thing they do.
Oh, yeah? Well, I have an L.
A.
P.
D.
ritual thing that says no one goes in or out of the rectory where our murdered priest lived until we have a chance to look around.
Understood? Um, Pope wants -- Yeah, well, tell Chief Pope I'm coming down.
Heaven's sakes.
Go.
Take care of your murder.
Yeah, but Daddy almost fell down a minute ago.
Mama, maybe we should get some help? He won't have help.
He has to think he's doing everything himself, even if it kills him.
Well, don't be afraid of that.
I mean, the doctor said we're in no danger of losing daddy.
I'm not afraid of losing him.
I'm worried about how to keep him.
Hey, Chief.
Pope just let the archivist go into the rectory.
Is there a back way? Uh, no, ma'am.
But there's a front one.
Switch here.
Excuse me.
Yes? Can I help you? I'm deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the L.
A.
P.
D.
And is the room of the priest -- Uh, ma'am, you shouldn't be here.
I need you to leave.
Actually, you shouldn't be here.
Who are you, anyway? I'm Mrs.
Wallingham, the rectory supervisor, and you have to leave right now.
You need to step aside, or I'll put you under arrest.
Wait! You cannot go in there! Hello, sir.
What are you doing? I'm collecting Father Adam's personal records and journals.
Why, what's in 'em? His daily activities, his private thoughts, prayers.
All right, then.
We'll be taking those.
You would have to take my life first.
Lucky for me, I'm armed.
Sit down.
Yeah, Chief.
Detective, what size was the rug our victim was rolled up in? Uh, about 6'x9'.
Well, that could fit.
I don't know.
I -- Brenda, where -- what are you doing? I'm searching the room of a homicide victim.
Say "hi" to the Archbishop for me, would you? When was the last time you saw Father Adam? Around 2:00 a.
m.
this morning.
I made the Father coffee, and he went out to a last rites call.
Where was he going? Look, someone's out there murdering priests.
You want to be responsible for the next one who dies? Where was Father Adam going? Here's the apartment's address.
A doctor called it in.
Thank you.
Chief Johnson, come with me.
Why? Come on.
Hurry.
Oh, too late.
Uh, Chief Johnson, you have created a major problem here.
Chief Johnson, you are undermining my negotiations with the church and I need you out of this rectory now.
Not till we get Father Adam's journals, which they're doing everything possible to hide from us.
They're not hiding anything.
Look, the church has spent $500 million dollars addressing their sins of the past, and they're nervous that people are -- You think I don't know why they're worried?! A priest who teaches at an elementary school gets murdered? It does scream angry parent, sir.
Look, for all we know, the killer is another priest who lives here! Of course, to figure that out, we'd have to actually search this place like we were conducting a legitimate investigation.
Okay.
I think you are exhausted, and I think you're letting your father's health problems affect your decision making Don't you bring my father into this.
which is completely understandable.
This has nothing to do with some kind of a personal response.
Now is not the time for you to try to supercede command decisions.
This is an action.
I need you out of here, now! Apartment 4.
Yes, this is the right one.
Yeah, you know, I can't think of the tenant's name.
He's pretty new here.
Do you have his lease? Sure, it's in the office.
Oh.
But, uh, Detective? Yeah.
Thank you.
Hmm.
Bless me father, for I have done nothing but watch pornos.
Yeah, well, I guess it goes with the wine coolers.
Hey, guys.
Back here.
I'm thinking an area rug left this nice impression on the wall-to-wall carpet.
Yeah, 6'x9'.
Huh.
All right, guys.
Oh.
Check this out.
Hmm.
Gentlemen.
Oh, no.
Freak.
Hey, uh, I don't know what's going on here, but Oh.
This apartment is leased to an Adam Gray as in our victim -- Father Adam.
Those poor girls looked up to that priest, and he took advantage of them.
Well, mama, we don't know what was going on in that apartment.
We haven't found any fingerprints on the pictures, hardly any in the apartment at all, actually, which is strange.
And we haven't found any of the priest's DNA on the girls' clothing.
Shouldn't you be talking about all that with the parents? Well, Fritz is helping the L.
A.
P.
D.
with the molestation issues.
Oh, now y'all are rearranging your whole lives because of me.
No, no, Daddy.
Not at all.
It's just that the FBI has a lot more resources for that kind of thing than we do.
So, if there was anything else to be doing, I'd be doing it.
What's the matter, Daddy? You didn't like your soup? Oh, it's fine.
But my taster's not.
The doctor said the drugs would have that affect.
But if everything's gonna taste like mud, what's the point of being alive? Well, I'm so glad to hear you're ready to give up and die after I've been staying up all night with you for the past six months and your daughter flew you all the way across country.
All right.
All right.
I'll try again.
I'm back.
Fritzi.
Hey.
How's your dad doing? He's, uhbetter.
Better.
He's not eating much, but he's -- he's walking.
Anyway, uh, what'd you find out? Well, we interviewed the parents of the identified girls without mentioning Father Adam.
It doesn't look like there's any kind of sexual abuse going on.
And our cyber-porn division isn't convinced those pictures were taken by a child molester.
Why not? Well, for one thing, there were too many different girls.
Apparently, active pedophiles groom their targets more carefully.
Look, the pictures are creepy, yeah, but they're not pornographic.
Abuse -- not really seeing it.
Well, that could be enough to convince the church that we're not on some kind of a witch hunt.
I'm gonna go -- oh, no.
Daddy's got an appointment in an hour and a half, and I -- I already took the afternoon off.
Your dad likes my driving better anyway.
Hedid not say that.
Did he? Actually he said you "steer the car like a lost getaway driver.
" Oh, that sounds just like him.
Maybe things are gonna get better.
Yeah.
Well, not if you keep pushing to get this journal.
Although, I suppose suggesting that the photographs we found were not pornographic could help reopen dialog with the archdiocese.
We shouldn't have to reopen dialog.
The church should never have been allowed to take the victim's journal to begin with! Chief Johnson, in a case like this, there are national, possibly international, implications.
In fact, in order to regain the cooperation of the church, the L.
A.
P.
D.
has to give it absolute assurance that our official chain of command will be respected.
I've always respected -- wait a minute.
Is this about what happened with Chief Pope at the rectory? I was only doing my job.
By performing a warrantless search? By threatening a church archivist with your weapon? I didn't threaten anybody.
I had my gun holstered the entire time.
It doesn't matter.
Refusing the orders of a superior is insubordination, and you did it publicly, which is detailed in this unsigned complaint that Chief Pope left with me last night.
He's really this mad? Oh-oh, yes.
And he's frustrated.
At one time, he may have been your friend and something more than that, but he is also your boss.
And he's demanding that you recognize his authority.
I want that journal.
Did you not hear one word that I just said? I kept Chief Pope from signing that complaint by assuring him that you were capable of seeing his position.
The Catholic Church has enormous influence.
How am I supposed to investigate this homicide if the entire power structure here is lining up to protect the poor, defenseless Catholic Church? And why does Chief Pope still have this enormous chip on his shoulder? I mean, I'm ready to put behind how completely horrible he's been.
I don't even need an apology.
I mean, can't we just -- you know? You may be able to let it go, but Chief Pope isn't ready to let it go.
And if you can't keep relations friendly, you need to keep them smart.
What would smart be in this situation? Letting Chief Pope resume his negotiations with the church so that he solves the problem.
He caused the problem.
Fine.
If I let Chief Pope get the journal his way, will he back off on that complaint? Because if he signs it anyway, I will explode.
I really will.
I think before dropping the complaint entirely, he's gonna wait to see how you proceed with your investigation.
Even though the apartment had been wiped down, we did find Father Adam's fingerprints in two different places -- one on the travel mug Mrs.
Wallingham says she made coffee for him that night.
and the camera we found in the bedroom, index finger on the shutter button.
But no prints on the girls' photos, Chief.
Okay, so who hung them up? Sergeant? Well, a Dr.
Hanlin supposedly called the rectory that night.
But there is no physician by that name registered anywhere in the state.
If there's not doctor, then who called for last rites? Maybe the killer.
So, why would the priest answer a call to go to his own apartment? It doesn't make any sense.
Wait a minute.
What if he did have an accomplice? What if "last rites" was like a code to say the place was ready? Oh, you mean like, "I've got the little girls over here.
They're drinking wine coolers.
Let's party"? Yeah, but there's no evidence the young girls were ever in the apartment other than the school uniforms, which were brand-new, like the rug.
The killer probably bought that rug specifically to roll up the body, which means he's highly organized -- suggests he wasn't a beginner, anyway.
Well, I'd still say Father Adam went to that apartment knowing that it was a fake call.
You're forgetting about the olive oil.
Olive oil? Along with the victim's blood, the lab found a small amount of olive oil soaked into the rug.
Priests use olive oil to perform last rites.
They bless the forehead and they bless the hands.
You know, maybe the priest was there doing his job.
Says the guy who goes to confession twice a week.
Oh, you should try it, Andrew.
It feels good.
Hey, listen.
All I know is that the wounds to the good father's neck are up-close and personal.
You ask me, some angry dad found out about the love nest and put an end to it.
If the girls weren't being molested like the FBI said, fathers would have nothing to be angry about.
Look, to be sure, I say we get a warrant for the victim's journal.
I mean, come on.
What are we waiting on? No, no, no.
Chief Pope thinks that would be like a bomb going off.
Hi, mama.
Uh, hang on just one moment.
We don't have the evidence.
How are we supposed to have evidence that we can't collect? How'd it go with the doctor? He says things are looking up.
Oh, mama.
That is such good news.
It is! It is! Of course, there's still a ways to go, and some of his numbers could use improvement.
But that doctor of yours thinks that Clay should be up and at 'em any minute.
His numbers? Oh, on his chart -- his electrolytes and something else.
Oh, that's okay, mama.
We'll go over all that at dinner.
I'll see you then.
Oh, Brenda, one more thing.
I -- Uh, Lieutenant Tao, you said that the camera that we found in the apartment, - its clock was never set properly? - Yeah.
Well, we know they're recent because of who the girls are, but -- Okay, let's blow up these photographs please.
I think if they were a little bit larger I might be able to see what time of day they were taken.
And, uh, Detective Sanchez, while we're on the subject of photographs, would you please have the building manager come in to look at a picture of Father Adam, see if he recognizes him as a tenant.
And I want the lease in an evidence bag, please.
So, what are you thinking, Chief? Somebody's trying to make the priest look dirty? I'm thinking that if he didn't take these photographs, it would explain why he went out in the middle of the night to an apartment he didn't know was his.
Girls in the blue uniform played St.
Angelo's two weeks ago today between 4:30 and 6:00.
Okay, and at that time, Father Adams was with the debate team at another school across town.
Yeah.
This is interesting.
It's quite sunny, but No shadows? Mm-hmm.
So it's midday, and they're not wearing their school uniforms.
That makes it "casual dress" Friday at St.
Angelo's.
And every Friday at midday, Father Adam performs mass in the cathedral.
So, he couldn't have taken these pictures.
Mm-hmm.
Chief? This is the building manager, Mr.
Vincent Morris.
Oh, Mr.
Morris.
Thank you so much for coming in.
And here's the lease.
Wonderful, thank you.
Lieutenant.
Prints and copy for a writing sample? Thank you.
Okay.
Mr.
Morris, do you recognize this man? I don't think so.
His name's on the lease.
Oh, well, that's not the guy who signed it.
And March 23rd, is that the actual day the lease was signed? March 23rd, that's right.
March 23rd.
Let me ask you this.
Do you change the locks in between tenants? Well, I should, but not if they give me back the keys.
Could you give us the name of the previous tenants? Sure, I just need a computer.
Right here.
Oh.
Uh, do you also want a list of exterminator, plumbers, painters, anybody else who comes in and out? That would be very helpful.
Thank you so much.
And Detective Sanchez, could you also pull up the school's website, look through the faculty pictures, see if Mr.
Morris recognizes anyone? Thank you.
Uh, I don't need you for this.
Chief Pope's about to have a conference with the church official.
He wants Commander Taylor to attend.
It's about the journal.
Oh, okay.
Thank you.
Fine.
Commander.
His holiness, the Pope, requests your presence.
Ah, Father Calhoun, you know Commander Taylor, but I don't believe you've met Captain Raydor of our professional standards bureau.
Captain.
Father Calhoun is the superior of the provincial for all Jesuit priests in Southern California.
Thank you for agreeing to meet with us father, and may I say that we are all very, very sorry about what happened yesterday.
We're looking to get back on a better footing, as well.
Oh, forgive me, I was referring to the terrible loss of Father Adam.
My student and my brother in Christ.
I accept your words of sympathy, but the L.
A.
P.
D.
's actions seem to undermine their intent.
Well, let me begin with some news that will help to put your mind at ease.
As I understand it, we're currently favoring a theory of the crime which would clear Father Adam of any misconduct with his female students.
Thank heaven.
Any suggestion he was leading a secret life would harm his legacy forever.
And you could help us make sure that never happens.
How? We would like to see Father Adam's journal.
And before you say no -- Well, of course you can see it.
Really? We can? When? In 2052.
the journal will be unsealed from our archive and it will be all yours.
We only want it for a handwriting sample to confirm that he did not rent that apartment.
You are trying to bait me into giving away the innermost thoughts of an active-duty priest by promising me that it may clear his name.
This woman is no better than the one from yesterday.
Well, I guess we may need to get a warrant for the journal from the district attorney's office.
Any such attempt will be met with the full legal authority of the Catholic Church.
Given the church's resources, Chief, I think we should probably ask to convene a grand jury.
The Catholic Church has grown used to those over the past few years, I should think.
Of course, a grand jury would have to see the pictures of those little girls and the fingerprint on the camera, not to mention all those kids' clothes we found in the apartment.
You just told me you were pursuing an alternative theory of the crime.
Yes.
But the evidence is still the evidence.
Look, I-I'm sure there's some way that we can examine this journal without involving the courts or compromising confidentiality.
Father, suppose we had it for just one day, and the journal never left your presence.
So, technically, it was never released to anyone.
One day? We're just as interested in issues of privilege as you are and I don't have anything specific to look for.
So, why don't I throw out a date and you see what it says, and whether we can look at it.
And then we'll do a handwriting comparison.
What date? How about March 23rd? He was traveling that day to a conference in San Diego.
He writes briefly about the train ride.
Uh, excuse me, Chief.
I showed the apartment manager all the faculty pictures from Father Adam's school.
You did what? Oh, routine procedure, Father.
Just eliminating all the possibilities.
Nothing to worry about.
And he did not recognize any of them.
And none of the former tenants or workers have criminal records.
Okay, I'm not seeing anything similar between these two samples.
Father, this is all good news.
Chief, uh, I have the fingerprint report from the original lease.
We have matches from all the squad who touched it this morning and, of course, the manager, Mr.
Morris, but no prints from Father Adam.
Oh, my.
See? Sharing this journal with us is going to help you enormously.
Pardon me, Father.
Do you mind waiting here for a moment? Certainly.
Certainly.
Where's Mr.
Morris? He left 10 minutes ago.
Did he write anything in longhand while he was here? Oh, I took all the notes, Chief.
He had access to that apartment Who else could set it up like that? And there are no prints but ours and his on that lease? Let's find out if our landlord had a criminal record.
Thank you.
Father Calhoun, would you be willing to look through the journal for the name of a man named Morris? He may have been impersonating Father Adam.
Yes, of course.
But there's an entire box of journals.
Uh, I'd say maybe we start with March 23rd and work our way back from there? Sound good? Well, the manager doesn't have a record exactly, but his name did come up a couple of times.
First, and I don't know how this relates, but according to a traffic-accident report, Mr.
Morris was critically injured in a nasty five-car pileup on the freeway that nearly killed him six months ago.
More importantly, Vincent Morris filed a missing persons on his wife eight years ago.
And she never turned up.
At the time, the only lead the L.
A.
P.
D.
uncovered was a condominium rented under his wife's name in Cabo San Lucas.
But the Mexican authorities never found anyone living there.
Back when Morris' wife first disappeared, the investigating officer made a note of a large area rug missing from the Morris home.
Two abandoned apartments could be a coincidence, but the missing rug makes it a pattern.
Let-- Oh, umput a watch on Mr.
Morris and let me know if Father Calhoun finds his name in the journal.
And I want every detail of the day of that car accident.
Yes, mama.
I'm on my way.
That's fine, but I'll be there.
Chief.
Thank you.
Here's a good one I was telling you about.
The low thyro-- Thyroglobulin.
Low means its cancer's basically undetectable.
Oh, Daddy.
You're getting to be such an expert.
Well, I'll say this for that doctor of yours.
He talks to us so we can understand him.
Look here.
Look at this.
I got my balance back.
Ooh! Now, you just teach your daughter how to carry her stuff back into the kitchen Hey.
Don't ask for more than God can give you.
Dear, I'll take the heavy plates.
You take the silverware.
Hello.
Yes -- uh, hang on.
You were right.
He did need a better doctor.
Oh, thank heaven that's all it was.
Thank heaven.
Uh Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Oh, hi.
Hey, Chief.
Uh, so, we didn't find Mr.
Morris' name anywhere in the journal, but we did find the names of his two sons -- David and Michael Morris.
His sons? What did they have to do with anything? Well, I'm not sure, but the date of the entry is the same day Mr.
Morris was brought to the hospital after his big car wreck.
Was Father Adam there? Yeah.
I checked with the hospital.
He was on call all day.
Yeah, but why would he write down the sons' names? Uh, why would he write down the sons' names? Uh, Chief, when given last rites, dying patients often ask priests to pass messages on to family members, but Father Adam didn't write the message down.
Well, why not? Why is everyone all bent out of shape about this journal if there's nothing in it?! Oh, yeah, yeah, Chief.
Crazy.
Oh, here, Flynn.
Uh, hey, Chief.
I checked into Mr.
Morris' plates, just to see, and his car was towed last night about 30 miles from his home.
He checked it out of impound this morning.
- 30 miles? - Where? Was it parked near someplace where you could do a body dump? Well, we're looking into it.
Where's Morris now? Well, Provenza's got S.
I.
S.
sitting at his house ready to grab him.
Only one day.
I-I-I can't wait that long.
Bring Mr.
Morris in.
I want to have a chat with him.
I'm on my way.
Brenda, you have to go back to work at this hour? Mama, I am so sorry, but I've got a deadline.
Hmm, I thought since Clay was feeling better, you and I could have a little talk.
And we will.
We will.
Well, there's something I really ought to tell you.
It'll only take a minute.
Well, c-can it wait till tomorrow morning? We could have breakfast and talk about whatever you like.
All right.
Tomorrow.
Only, honey, you can't keep working like this your whole life.
It'll catch up with you.
I expect it will.
But not tonight.
Bye.
Mm.
Drive carefully.
What do we know? Chief, we got Mr.
Morris in interview room 1.
I have the full report on Father Adam's vehicle back from the print shed.
Look at this detail.
Father Adam's car was out of gas.
Warning light was on, less than a gallon left.
A car that size, that age, you can only go another 6, 7 miles.
That's when that creep Morris' plan went wrong.
Here's a map of where he left his car.
That's why his car was towed.
He couldn't drive back to it because the priest's car was running on empty.
And Morris didn't dare fill up for fear of gas-station security cameras.
Okay, so he meant to drive here, dump the priest's car and his body, and then drive his own vehicle home.
Morris planned for everything except that poor priest's car running out of gas.
He never intended to dump the body at the school.
Yeah, it was a good save though, 'cause it made the priest look guiltier.
This might be something Chief.
There is a large storage facility three blocks from where Morris left his car just off the freeway exit.
He wouldn't use his own name at that storage facility, but y'all get down there and take this fake apartment lease with you, see if you can match the handwriting to a contract from eight years ago around the time the wife went missing.
Well, a match like that might satisfy God, but I think a judge is gonna want more for a warrant.
Well, then take the cadaver dog with you for insurance.
And, Buzz, leave your camera with Lieutenant Tao, please.
I need you here to help me.
Sure thing.
Detective Sanchez, feel like helping me catch a priest killer? My car died, so I called a cab to get home.
I didn't read the sign properly in the dark, and it got towed.
Is that a crime? No, it's not.
But you do seem to be having a lot of car trouble recently.
Six months ago, you got into a freeway crash.
I'm fine now.
Yes, you are.
According to the accident report, three people were killed on that day.
Close call.
Close enough to call a priest.
Sir, we know you confessed to Father Adam.
You were gonna die.
You asked for last rites.
He wrote it down.
I sincerely doubt that.
It would be a violation of his vows.
Oh, oh, so you are Catholic, then? What difference does that make? Plenty of people talk to priests in hospitals.
This priest was killed in one of your apartments.
Well, that's a sad coincidence, because I don't even remember the guy.
Do you remember giving him the name of your sons? After you confessed, were you thoughtful enough to leave a message for those boys? About a secret you've kept for the past seven years? You said something to Father Adam on your death bed.
Except you didn't die.
That made you anxious, didn't it? Because Father Adam was urging you to confess again, to us, maybe.
Confess what? Well, you could tell us what you did to the mother of your sons.
Or you could tell us that after realizing you'd confessed too soon and you weren't going to die, you lured the now inconvenient Father Adam to an apartment you had set up to kill him and ruin his good name.
How you put his dead finger on the camera shutter and rolled him up in a rug just like you did your wife.
If you think I'm gonna confess to all of that, you're crazy.
Chief, they found his wife's body.
I never thought you'd tell us what you told Father Adam.
For one thing, I can't absolve you.
God sees everything.
Does God see that you have no evidence? Look.
Since you've already read me my rights, I think it's time I call an attorney.
Detective Sanchez.
Sir.
The next time you receive last rites, I'll be there in the viewing room, probably standing next to your two sons.
You make sure you wave before they put the needle in your arm.
That's not gonna happen.
Well, you never know.
And, uh, sir, I forgot to tell you.
We found your wife.
She cleared the church.
That makes you good with Father Calhoun and the Archbishop, so What do you want to do with this complaint? Hey.
Will, I'm -- Look.
I'mvery sorry about barging into the rectory yesterday.
That's not the problem.
I meanthank you.
I appreciate the apology.
I do, but that's not the real issue here.
What is? The real issue is I'm gonna be moving upstairs to run this whole department in my own right, and I'm not gonna be around to watch over you anymore.
You know? Afraid I'll burn the place down? No.
No.
I'm -- I'm afraid you'll burn yourself up.
You know? Somebody's gonna be replacing me as assistant Chief -- your immediate superior.
I think we know who that somebody is likely to be, and he's not gonna spend a lot of time putting up with the kind of crap I've let you get away with over the years.
This was just another attempt to try to change your attitude, whichwasn't gonna work anyway, so Besides, you don't want this complaint on your record, just in case you need to think about circulating your résumé.
Good morning, darling.
Daddy, are you making breakfast? Yeah, pancakes.
I'm letting your mother sleep in.
She's done enough this past six months.
Oh, that's just about the best thing a person could come home to.
Well, pancakes are a wonderful thing.
Now I just need to stay awake long enough to eat 'em.
Good morning, everybody.
Would you look at this? Hey.
Yeah, I know.
I think it calls for a cup of coffee.
Already made.
Help yourself.
Oh, Brenda Leigh, take your mother a cup, would you? She said something last night about wanting to talk to you this morning.
Right.
Take mine.
Welcome home.
Thank you.
Oh, and tell her breakfast in 10 minutes.
Yes, sir.
You sleep well last night? Okay.
Without my daughter tossing around next to you? Mama, you awake? Oh, I hate to wake you up, but daddy said breakfast in 10 minutes, which probably means 15.
Mama? I-I'm gonna put your coffee down here, and you can have it when you're ready, okay? Mama, why don't you go ahead and get up now.
We'll talk.
Fritz!! Fritz!! What? What? Fritz!! Mama, look! What happened?! What happened?! Fritzi, help her! Help her! Help her! No! No! Mama, please, no! Mama! Mama!