Previously on Dexter...
So far our killer has given us three tableaus—
the intestines in the scale,
the snakes victim,
and the four horsemen.
What about the numbers we found on the body,
1237 and 1242?
He's counting up to something.
Maybe it's to the end of the world.
- Dexter. - Sam, what are you doing here?
Brother Sam? Are you guys, like, friends now?
We have a lead.
This revelation expert James Gellar.
The professor from the University of Tallahassee?
Looks like we just found our number one person of interest.
You're going out with that woman, aren't you?
You knew this was gonna happen.
She's part of God's plan now.
Is this Doomsday number two?
During the middle ages,
it was believed that the outcome of nearly all earthly events
was decided by angels,
either light or dark.
I'm quite certain that face I saw in the crowd
was of the dark variety.
Unfortunately, he's chosen to remain anonymous.
He left no trace DNA,
no sweat, no saliva,
no prints.
A small repair.
Something skin-like.
Not your normal glue.
Despite his wish to remain hidden,
I may find a way to yank him out of the shadows
after all.
Eyes on God, not me.
And all God's people said...
Amen.
Help me up.
It's time to do a little hunting.
I thought that we had some time.
You still don't hear him.
I've been fasting and praying
for days, and all I can hear
is the sound of my own voice banging around my head.
God remains silent to me.
It's a good thing I'm around.
'Cause we have to find the whore of Babylon.
I was right about the glue—
a polyvinyl acetate polymer dissolved in toluene.
And the backing is calfskin.
Together they're used in ancient manuscript restoration.
Dude, your sister,
briefing room, now.
Okay, thanks. I'll be there in a minute.
This is no amateur.
Thank you for joining us, Dexter.
Okay, everyone, let's get started.
Our victim is Erin Baer, 29.
She worked at the Glass House Cafe
at the Miami Cultural Center.
Miami Cultural Center,
full of ancient artifacts in need of repair.
I want unis plastering Gellar's picture
all over the area.
Maybe someone got eyes on him there.
I'll take lead on that.
Great. Where are we on the revelation aspect of this?
Between the trumpet flowers placed around her,
the locusts, and the iconography of an angel,
our Doomsday killer was most likely referencing
Revelation chapters 8 through 10.
Any idea why he changed it up?
Why our entrance triggered her death?
Normally a serial killer wants to do the kill themselves.
It's the whole point, right?
There's a passage which reads,
"You must go back and report your message
"to many peoples and nations
and languages and kings".
So I'm guessing we're those people.
It seems his message is more important than the thrill.
Tell me you got something from the M.E.'s office.
She found traces of spermicide in Erin Baer.
The M.E.'s take is that the victim had sex
with someone who used a spermicidal condom.
So what are we thinking, that she just happened
to have sex before she was kidnapped?
Or maybe she met Gellar, had sex with him,
and things got ugly for her.
Or maybe it was Gellar's accomplice.
Can't say for sure either way.
As far as we know, she didn't know Gellar.
What did we get on Gellar's last gig?
I've been trying to contact
his last teacher assistant Carissa Porter.
But so far University of Tallahassee
has given us shit-all.
University's not exactly thrilled
to be linked to Professor Nutbag.
Well, let's go up there and make it clear to them
that we don't give a shit whether they're thrilled or not.
I'm on it.
Lab boys, what do we have?
Um, I've got locusts.
But the necropsy on them turned up jack and shit.
All they ate was local greenery.
What about the dead fish outside the angel crime scene?
All local.
You can catch them off any pier,
buy them at any fish market.
But we did find—
ta-da— another number.
This one lodged in Erin's esophagus.
1,244.
Same paper and ink as the other two.
1237, 1242, 1244.
I did a check into that number's usage
in the Book of Revelation.
Excuse me.
- Who's this? - Uh.
Louis Greene, the latest and greatest intern
from my forensics class.
He's up to speed on the whole Doomsday case.
- What happened to the blonde? - She's gone.
Go on, Louis.
Yeah, well,
numerology is all over Revelation,
but the only number that's repeatedly referenced
that's in the thousands is 1,260.
1260. You think that's what he's counting up to?
If so, we've only got 15 days left.
And then what?
I don't know.
End of the world, the rapture, Armageddon.
More apocalyptic bullshit.
Dex, please tell me you have something we can use.
I hate lying to my sister, but—
Oh, sorry, nothing on the wings.
Okay, let's keep at it.
Let's find this jizzbucket Gellar.
Class dismissed.
Hey.
All that tippy-tappy stuff you do on your laptop,
you're kind of a whiz with computers, aren't you?
I tool around. I've done some consulting.
I've made a couple RPGs.
Oh, role-playing games. Nice.
Any of them feature Amazon women of immense strength,
by any chance?
- No. - Oh, that's okay.
Anyway, um, you mind?
Oh, yeah.
- Ice Truck Killer? - Shh.
Let's keep it down, all right?
It was stolen from our evidence room,
and if word gets out we're losing evidence,
this department's street cred goes straight down the shitter.
Well, why don't you just get it back from the seller?
I tried.
You have to give the site what you're selling
before they agree to auction it.
- Fuckers. - I see.
So my question to you is...
Can I make this problem go away?
I'll look into it.
Can I talk to you for a minute?
A minute.
This is awkward.
What?
The engagement ring.
Fuck me in the ear, I never gave it back to you.
Yeah, it's just that I got 30 days to return it.
- And since we're not gonna use— - I'll get it back to you.
I'm so sorry.
It's okay.
I mean, you've had a lot on your plate lately.
I better go.
Got some professors to harass.
- Hello? - Jamie, it's Debra.
I need a little favor from you.
About two weeks ago, I brought a ring box
home with an engagement ring in it.
You lost an engagement ring?
I left it on Harrison's side of the apartment.
- Have you seen it? - Uh, no.
Do you think you could look for it?
I really appreciate all the help I can get right now.
Thank you. Bye.
Hey, Dex.
- Sam. - Hey.
Hey, how your little man doing?
Oh, he's doing great.
You should come by and see him.
Yeah, okay. I'd love to.
Yeah. Uh, how about tonight?
Uh, great, great.
You want to say 8:00?
- Perfect. - Cool.
You didn't come all the way out here
just to ask about Harrison, did you?
Yeah, I wish.
Some of Nick's old crew,
they came by and shot up the shop.
Anybody hurt?
No, it was an after-hours thing.
There was just bullet holes in the garage door.
That's about it. I called the cops,
but nobody showed up,
so, without the cop report,
the insurance don't do shit.
You ever think of moving?
No.
God put me there to do what I'm doing, man.
I don't scare off.
You're a brave man, Sam.
O.G. For G-O-D, know what I'm saying?
Yep.
Nope.
See you tonight.
All right.
Excuse me, do you work here?
Read my tag. I'm a docent.
How may I help you?
I accidentally poked a hole
in a painting that belongs to my boss.
I put my elbow right through it.
I know. I'm such an idiot.
- Is there someone I can talk to— - Follow me.
Okay.
- Here at the museum... - Right in here.
- Thank you. - ... a lot of the action
is behind the scenes.
For nearly 35 years...
I'm sorry. This isn't exactly—
Have you seen this before?
restored works of art...
No.
Well, sit down and watch it.
It's very informative.
That's why we made it.
staining, discolorations.
They can make the art look almost exactly
the way the artist intended it,
all while using the same materials
that the artist used during his or her own lifetime.
You wouldn't believe how people end up treating
what can end up being priceless works of art,
especially in our paper conservation laboratory
where we're equipped with...
It's him.
The face I'm looking for. He works here.
That's how he knew how to create those wings.
Morgan.
This is Detective Anderson.
Dispatch gave me your number.
We need a blood guy on the double.
We're out at Miami shores.
1588, Northeast end of 2nd Street.
Got it.
Using radiograms and infrared imaging...
Do you happen to know the name of—
Worst docent ever.
What do we got?
Male and female.
40s.
Pictures on the walls and rings on their fingers
make them man and wife.
Three gunshots.
One to the chest, two to the stomach.
The first cut on the face not from a gunshot.
- Maybe the fall. - No, he fell back.
It looks more like a glancing blow.
Cell phone.
Maybe she threw it at him.
That's not the wife.
Single gunshot to the chest,
through and through, shot at close range.
No gun in sight.
Give me a hand.
We have our shooter.
The husband leaves, forgets his phone,
the wife finds the pictures...
Wife throws phone at two-timing bastard.
And then shoots him, boom, boom, boom,
three times.
She realizes what she did. She's distraught.
She turns the gun to her chest
and blam.
Murder-suicide.
Took you all of 15 seconds to solve that.
It was a pretty easy one.
Hey, how the hell does a pro like you stand working
with the rest of these Miami Homicide chuckleheads?
Well, they're actually pretty good,
especially my sister Deb.
You probably know her as Lieutenant Morgan.
- Excuse me, detective? - Hey, you can't be in here.
Oh, no, no, no. It's okay.
I own the place. They just—
Oh, my God.
Can I help you?
I don't mean to sound crass, but...
how long will they stay here?
Till we finish.
Then the M.E. will remove the bodies.
And then how long will it take for you to clean it up?
Do I look like your maid?
Try not to look, huh?
What?
I'm sorry.
It's okay.
God gave man the desire to look at women.
It's the devil who made them dress like that.
That's not it.
What?
It's sad.
All of these people are doomed, and they don't even know it.
It is sad.
You're very sensitive, Travis.
That's why you've been chosen.
Is that you?
It's not bad, huh?
They're calling you the Doomsday killer.
It's kind of catchy.
I probably should stay out of sight.
You may have to find our whore without me.
By myself? I can't.
Yes, you can.
I believe in you.
God believes in you.
Aah!
I have a face.
Now I just need a name.
Travis Marshall.
Ancient manuscript restoration and conservation.
No arrests, no warrants.
No moving violations, not even a parking ticket.
Appears you live a quiet little life
on 1742 Vanderan Street.
Ready to see Brother Sam?
- Hey. - Hey, Sam.
Come on in.
- Let me take those for you. - Nice.
Nice place you got here, man.
Oh, thanks.
Hey, little man.
How you doing?
He's sleepy. It's about his bedtime.
Right on time then, 'cause...
it's his bedtime too.
Maybe you could put him to sleep for me?
Yeah?
Can you say thank you, Harrison?
Thank you, Harrison, for helping me
put my little man to sleep.
Either way, it's very nice of you.
Not a problem.
How's he doing after the surgery?
He's doing great.
That's good.
I'm gonna put him to bed.
I'll just be a few minutes.
All right.
Good night, little man.
- Make yourself at home. - Thank you.
And now I guess Sam and I are gonna hang out.
That's a cute boy you got there, man.
Yeah, he's a keeper.
It must be kind of hard for you, man.
Just get up every day,
leave, and go do what you do.
Do what I do?
Homicide every day.
How you end up in that, man?
My dad was a cop.
I just sort of fell into it.
Doesn't sound like the kind of thing somebody just fall into.
What really happened?
I guess in a weird way I was sort of drawn to it,
the blood work.
Why?
When I was three, I watched my own mother get killed.
Something like that stays with you.
That's rough, man. I'm sorry.
Seeing that so young, the darkness got in deep.
Never left me. Never will.
You remember anything before she died?
I don't know.
I remember at night she would wrap me in a quilt
and sing songs to me.
Sometimes she'd trace her finger along my ear.
Tickling me.
Must have made you feel good.
It did.
She was sharing that light with you.
It's with you now.
It's inside you.
Think you got the wrong guy.
Well, the good book tells us
that there's no darkness
that the light can't overcome.
So all the darkness that you think you got
- inside you— - Yeah?
All it takes is just a little bit of light
to keep it at bay.
Believe me. I know.
It's like with your son, man.
And see?
I just mention him,
and you just light right up.
I guess I do.
And you're sharing that light with him
every day all the time.
You really think so?
I see it.
You just got to let it out.
This is really nice, man.
We got to do this again sometime.
Shh.
Hey. Hey! Hey!
Put her down!
Get the fuck out of here!
Help me! Help!
Travis.
Where you been?
I'm sorry.
I couldn't do it.
- I tried. - It's okay.
Many heroes of the faith have endured their failures.
God's grace prevailed then too.
I thought I could do it.
Hey, it's my fault really.
I shouldn't have let you go do this alone.
Tomorrow night, I'll be there with you.
What about the police?
Do you think God's gonna allow anything to slow us down now?
You go home, get some rest.
Tomorrow night, we'll start again.
Tomorrow night.
Brother Sam says we all have a light inside us.
If I find Travis Marshall to be guilty...
then I will snuff out his light.
He's neat.
Everything in its right place.
Masters degree in Art History
from the University of Tallahassee,
the same place Gellar taught at before he disappeared.
I understand the urge to end someone's life,
but what is this fascination with ending the world?
Looks like the same numbers
we found in the Doomsday victims.
Defacing the Bible.
I'm probably breaking a rule.
Hello, Doomsday killer.
I swear to God, you're the only cop I know
that drives the speed limit.
That car's not a toy.
In the right conditions, it'll top 110 easy.
And these weren't the right conditions?
No.
Is that our professor?
Professor Porter?
- Yes. - Hi, I'm Detective Quinn.
This is Sergeant Batista. Miami Metro Homicide.
Dr. Knudson, the department head, said we'd find you here.
Right.
He told me you were coming.
So you knew Professor Gellar?
I did, but I want to state upfront
that Professor Gellar didn't have anything to do
with those crazy Revelation killings.
And you know this how?
I was his teacher's assistant for a year.
He even helped me get my job.
Have you seen him recently?
No, not since he left.
When was that?
Three years ago about.
What about his blog, "The Beginning of the End"?
I mean, you have to admit, there's some pretty crazy stuff
on there, and a lot of it is in line with the killings.
He likes to stir up trouble,
make people think.
That's what made everyone love him.
Oh, so you loved him?
Was he eccentric?
Yeah.
But he was also smart,
charismatic,
brilliant even.
He saw things between lines of text
that nobody else could.
Being with him was an incredible adventure.
So you did love him?
We were close.
Close, huh?
Smart woman like you with your looks,
I bet he was hitting on you all the time.
I mean, fuck, if we worked together,
I'd have a hard time not wanting to get close to you.
It was more than just a flirtation.
We lived together.
For a while.
You're not together anymore.
My year as his T.A. ended,
he found another cute brunette,
did the same thing with her.
Gellar had a thing for brunette students?
I found out I was one in a long line of girls,
but, you know what, it was no big deal.
I'm glad I got the chance to know him.
He was good to me.
Erin, our angel, was a brunette.
Well, if by some miracle,
he contacts you—
You'll be the first one I call,
if only to prove you have the wrong guy.
Hey, Professor Porter,
we're gonna be stuck here for the night.
You wouldn't happen to know
of any good spots where we could get a drink
this evening, would you?
Like some place kind of quiet?
Maybe I do.
Jesus Christ.
Do you always bring your work home with you?
I can't work for fuck in my new office.
It's like LaGuerta's perfume seeped into the walls.
If she ever had a soul, it's still in there.
Life was so much simpler
when all I had to do was solve murders.
Red to black.
- What it's all about. - Who did it?
Wife. Murder-suicide.
That brother of yours solved it
like he was getting a message from the dead.
Yeah, he's something special.
Ooh, nice place.
Right by the beach too.
Nothing like a murder-suicide to fuck up a great house.
I've seen worse.
Male, 70s,
self-inflicted shotgun
in the brainpan,
which is bad enough,
but he had cats.
And they got hungry.
- Enough said. - Ah, Chicago.
Miss it?
Miss the food.
I mean, you can't get a decent hot dog anywhere.
But homicide is homicide.
Yeah. I see the way you look at people around here.
You got the world's youngest Lt,
Batista and his hot rod,
Masuka with—
I made the mistake of going in his lab unannounced.
- He was— - Enough said.
He's got some fucked-up shit going on,
but he gets it done.
The same could be said for you, huh?
Good night, Anderson.
I'm grading this paper,
when all of a sudden I realize
I've read this before.
No way.
This dumb-ass student
changed some words around,
but he plagiarized C.S. Lewis.
I should arrest this guy right now.
I've got my cuffs on me.
We can go. I mean—
That sounds like fun.
Yeah? You want another round?
You're not married, are you?
Definitely not.
Then I want another drink.
Another round, please.
Thank you. Oh, who looks shows up
when I'm buying drinks, huh?
Hey, listen, we got a long ride
down to Miami tomorrow.
- You want to call it? - One second.
You can call it if you want,
but I'm about to cross a fucking college professor
off my bucket list.
Oh, be careful, partner.
She's part of our investigation.
No, she's not. She's just like a nice person
we talked to, you know.
There's like 20 other women here you could fuck.
I've already spent like 80 bucks on her, though,
you know, so it's, like, I don't want to have
to start all over again.
Get out of here. Come on.
We'll see each other in the morning, all right?
- You're unbelievable. - Yeah, go on, baby.
And there they are.
Thank you.
Here's to you.
Hi, buddy.
Are you going to sleep?
Are you going to bed?
Are you tired?
Found your ring.
Oh, jeez, you're a lifesaver.
Deb, really?
Ah, shit.
He came in here to give you a good night kiss,
not look at pictures of dead bodies.
Yeah, well, maybe if you gave me a little warning.
Isn't there anywhere else you can do this, Deb?
Right now? No. Nowhere.
Really? The lieutenant doesn't get an office?
I don't like my office.
- I like to work here. - Oh.
Harrison's got an entire goddamn apartment over there.
I've got jack shit.
He just wanted to say good night.
I know that.
Next time, why don't you call me over there?
I will. From now on.
And maybe you could keep
the photos on Dexter's desk,
so Harrison won't see them.
Again, if you were doing your job,
this wouldn't have happened in the first place.
My job?
- Yes. - Really?
You mean my job isn't to be your fucking maid?
- Oh. - Uh-oh.
- I found it. - Thank you.
- In Harrison's toy box. - Thanks.
You're really lucky he didn't eat it.
Oh, please.
- Thank God you're home. - Hello.
She needs to do a better job of watching Harrison.
She is bringing home all of these horrible pictures.
Would it be weird if I just left?
Hey, Jamie,
if Harrison's down for the night,
maybe you should just go on home.
See you tomorrow.
Okay.
Are you taking her side on this?
No, I'll talk to her too tomorrow,
but, Deb...
you got to admit this isn't good for Harrison.
Yeah. I'm a mess.
Maybe I do need to go to therapy.
No more than me.
Am I that fucked up?
Bet you they don't even know each other's names.
No wonder he wants us to end it all.
These two.
Follow them.
Are you sure? He looks pretty big.
He's not as big as God.
Go on.
Get the girl before somebody comes.
Put her in the trunk.
Help me.
I'm sorry.
See how easy it is?
Come on.
Hey.
Come on in.
Where's Quinn?
Bathroom.
I'll get him.
Joey, your friend's here.
The Alpha and Omega of the Enesserette.
Professor Porter, could you come out here?
Uh, excuse me, what are you doing?
These drawings, they were Gellar's?
You can't just start picking through—
Did Gellar do this?
Whoa. What's going on?
Oh, my God.
- Did he? - Well, yeah.
Let me see.
Holy shit.
Can I help you?
Michelle Ross.
The therapist you've been dodging for weeks.
Fuck.
I'm sorry.
Happens more than you think.
I figured since you weren't coming to my office—
That you would come to mine.
Believe me, I understand.
So we should probably get down to business, right?
Right here, right now?
Is that okay?
Let's do this.
Okay, just to clarify,
this is in reference to the shooting
at Don Aldo's?
Have you been experiencing any lack of sleep
from the shooting in question?
From the shooting, no.
Have you found yourself dwelling on that day?
No. Who has time?
Have you found it hard to concentrate
on day-to-day tasks because of the incident?
No.
Find yourself drinking more than you did
before the shooting?
Fuck, I don't drink enough.
That was a joke.
Hm.
Have you been experiencing any guilt since the shooting?
No.
If he walked through that door, I'd shoot him right now.
Great.
So it sounds like everything's fine.
Yeah.
Everything's great
with the shooting.
It's just everything that's happened since then
that's fucking me up.
Like what?
Like being lieutenant.
And all the day-to-day bullshit that comes with it.
Got the Doomsday killer doing his shit in my city,
and I try to do any work in here,
and I can't, and—
did I mention I just broke up with my boyfriend
and I don't have a place to live anymore,
so, at the end of the day, I can't even go home?
I'm living with my brother and his son, and...
Don't get me wrong, I love them,
it's just...
There's a reason I'm an aunt and not a parent and...
I just feel like I don't have a space
to call my own right now.
So maybe you should get some place that's your own.
Detective Anderson
and girlfriend.
Her? No way.
I'm married. She's my boss.
Lieutenant Debra Morgan, Miami Metro Homicide.
I'm so sorry. I thought that you two—
- Don't worry about it. - My bad.
Can we get this crime scene tape down?
Wow. It takes a lieutenant
to tell me it's okay to rent this place, huh?
- Can we go inside? - By all means.
Thank you.
I wanted to come by and see if I could possibly rent the place.
Oh?
The floors are a mess.
Yeah, they are, aren't they?
Yes, they are.
Might have to replace 'em.
I mean, the toxic damage.
Toxic?
Blood-borne antigens
can live for two weeks easy.
Of course, hep C is always a risk.
I didn't know that.
Oh, God, just what I needed.
Look, it's no secret
you're gonna have a hell of a time renting this place.
Legally, you're required to disclose the murder/suicide.
But I already know about it.
And?
What if I was to give you
2/3 of the current rent right now today?
Make that 3/4, two-year lease, and you clean up the place.
Looks like you got yourself a new tenant.
Ah, what's the— what's the progress on the—
Yeah, all right, I did everything
I know how, but I wasn't able
to get the hand back.
The buyer bought it using an eSniper program
that firewalls the buyer,
so whoever's got it's got it for good.
- Oh, fuck. - However...
I do like the sound of your however.
I erased any trace of the sale from the Internet.
So I'm sorry, that's the best I can do.
So if one were to look online—
It's like it never happened.
And I never checked it out of evidence.
There's no trail coming back to here.
At the worst, the evidence room fucked up, not us.
Our department's safe.
And while I was on your computer,
I improved your credit rating, installed a modded-up intel chip
to overclock your CPU, and, most importantly,
I added a porn scrubber to that thing.
My man.
Give it up, Lou.
Thank you.
Drive out of the parking structure,
turn right on Flagler, and then drive on
past the Miami River.
Nod if you understand.
You can take the car.
It's yours, my wallet, whatever you want.
I want none of those things, Travis.
What do you want?
I want your life.
Just like the ones you took.
Doomsday killer.
God. God!
Yeah, let's start with him.
I suppose it was God
who told you to kill all those innocent people?
God doesn't talk to me.
Then how do you know?
He talks to Professor Gellar.
And how do you know he talks to God?
'Cause I've seen it.
God speaks to the professor.
He speaks through the professor.
Keep going.
Before I met him,
I was lost.
But then the professor,
he showed me the truth.
He showed me the way.
He's a prophet filled with truth and light.
Bullshit!
You killed those people because you like it.
Answer me.
I couldn't do it.
I'm a failure.
I'm failing God.
Do you have any idea what that feels like?
Yes, yes, I wanted to kill those people,
but I couldn't.
You're saying Gellar does the killing.
He's so much stronger than me.
The thing is, there's no fear.
There's no regret. But with me it's—
it's pathetic.
Gellar is pulling you toward the darkness, Travis,
not the light.
No, you don't know.
Trust me, I know more about darkness than most,
and Gellar is pure darkness.
You need to find someone else to follow.
Pull over.
Get out of the car.
What?
Get out and start walking away.
You'll find your car back at the museum.
One way or another, Travis will lead me
to the one who really deserves my table.
Where are you?
I'm on my way home.
What's going on?
I don't feel good.
I've got— I just feel sick.
I should get some sleep.
Travis, what are you not telling me?
Nothing. Nothing.
I just— I feel sick.
I'll see you tomorrow?
Hey, you remember the story about Jonah and the great fish?
Jonah tried to run from God.
He didn't get too far.
Hope you're not trying to run from God too.
Think about it.
I don't believe in angels,
but I do believe there's a constant struggle
between light and dark in the world.
Who knows? Maybe Brother Sam is right.
Maybe sometimes the light can win out.
But in my experience,
darkness usually prevails.