True Detective

"For Whoever desires to save his life

"will lose it,

"but whoever loses his life for my sake,

"will save it.

"I will never leave the gathered regiment,

"nor flee from any battle.

"And I give them eternal life,

"and they shall never perish,

"neither shall anyone snatch them out of my hand."

Now what is this about?

We didn't do classes, my first communion.

Why are the children posed this way?

Prayerful repose

signifies their innocence and rebirth in Christ.

And why does Will have his eyes closed?

I don't know.

I suppose he blinked.

Who took these pictures?

I did.

The youth group,

had you talked much with the kids

about their activities outside the church?

Ever about their home lives, new acquaintances?

I didn't often see their parents at service,

and then usually it was just the father, Tom.

Actually, last I saw her,

Julie had been excited about seeing an aunt.

She doesn't have any aunts.

Tell you anything about this aunt?

Description?

Something might draw notice?

She told the woman's name. I wish I could recollect it.

We'd be grateful for names,

other people who worked with the youth group.

Like to get some fingerprints, too.

Certainly.

Any of this stuff look familiar?

That's a chaff doll.

Patty Faber makes them for our fall fair,

first week in October.

She's a dear, good woman, I can tell you.

You were Catholic. Do you attend services?

Sometimes.

Remiss of late.

I was an altar boy, little country church in Conway.

Well, even abiding in the dark, we implore a steadfast faith,

assured His hand is at work.

Anything else about the kids?

Just that they were sweet children, and they looked out for each other.

I don't like him.

The priest.

I know his alibi's good, but I don't like him.

Man signs up to go without fuckin' for life,

either he don't know himself for a liar,

or he's some tight, limited-edition psycho, you know?

I mean, everybody's fuckin' somethin'.

You can imagine that little boy looking out for his sister, huh?

He was trying to defend her.

That's what happened to him.

Maybe whoever they were playing with in the woods,

maybe this new aunt or whoever,

they never wanted the boy.

My feeling,

it was all about the girl.

Catholic, huh?

Yep.

We were Baptist.

Had a good buddy in the war. Baptist.

What happened to him?

Look forward to meeting Patty Faber.

A dear, good woman.

Yes, I'm pretty sure these are mine.

Just little things I do.

Somebody bought 'em. Do you know who?

Well, the last I sold these myself was at the fair in October.

I'd only sold a couple, and then one man bought 10 off me.

That was nice.

You know who he was?

You remember anything about him?

Didn't recognize him.

Negro man, like yourself.

He had a dead eye.

Filmy, you know, like a cataracts?

Nothing 'bout his face besides the eye?

Handsome, ugly?

Well, like I say, he was black.

You speak to him at all? He say what the dolls were for?

Well, I asked, and I think he said he had nieces and nephews.

That man,

any chance he mentioned where they live?

No.

Well, I just assume that would have been with the rest of them

over at the tracks in Davis Junction.

Thank you, ma'am.

Special investigator.

New detail.

Roland's in charge, he wants me on it.

They're reopening the Purcell case.

How 'bout that, right?

Yeah, but this time we get to close it.

Actually get to do my job again.

Good. I'm happy for you.

That what happy looks like?

I've been doing it wrong all these years.

I'm happy for you like you were happy for me the other night.

Oh.

Oh, good.

'Cause of course no mistake,

no slip of temper could possibly occur

without me paying double interest for it at a later date.

You could just apologize.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I haven't expressed better

how inadequate and useless I've been made to feel.

Yeah, "made to feel."

You're this person who things just happen to.

Your job, your marriage,

your family, your feelings...

Everything's just happening to you.

You're this grown man with no agency of his own.

Fate just keeps throwing him curveballs.

How awful for you, these trials and vicissitudes.

Look it up.

When have I ever not been stand-up for you and our family?

Hm, you see me tw'm'.

There's guys, they're barely around. They get girlfriends.

I wish you would. Get a girlfriend, please.

I'm not the one my head in the clouds the last five years.

"Oh, I'm gonna be a great writer.

"Let me just use this awful tragedy to take myself on to better things,"

because you always gotta be on your way to better things.

At least I have some kind of drive.

I can't even say what moves you anymore.

I think you stay upright out of habit.

This walking wounded, "poor me."

Let me ask you something.

You guys okay?

- Yeah, Dad. - Yeah, Dad.

Do not talk shit to my face and walk away.

I don't want to be around you right now.

You want me to leave you alone, then stop talking shit.

'Cause when you talk shit about me, I'm required to defend myself.

How can you defend yourself?

You can't defend yourself because you don't know what's wrong.

Did the wife in your scenario play any part in the conflict,

any role the last 10 years?

Let go of me, Wayne.

Stop talkin' shit about me.

Or what?

Or I'm gonna start cryin'.

Well, that's a first.

Thinking we can't understand each other,

we're never gonna.

Oh, great, Wayne. Walk away. Surprise, surprise.

What do you want me to do, huh? You want me to yell some more?

You want me to hit you? You want me to fuck you?

Just give me my orders, Major.

I want to finish this.

All on your schedule, I guess.

Be happy when you say. Fight when you say.

Talk when you say. Fuck every so often.

Well, how 'bout right now?

What?

How 'bout right now?

You got some major cognitive dissonance.

Guess we 'bout six years old, huh?

I don't think bad of you.

What I was saying... I didn't mean that.

Me, neither.

Want to just do a house-to-house?

That'd be fun.

I thought we'd just start at the liquor store.

Pretty fuckin' racist, man.

And it's one of three businesses here 'cause nobody uses it.

Let's flip for it.

All we know, man's got a dead eye.

Filmy-like.

Sound like anybody in the community?

Having us owe you a favor could be worthwhile,

find yourself in a difficult position ever,

police.

He's always been a good customer,

but you,

talkin' 'bout that dead eye.

Sam Whitehead got one of them.

Where's he live?

That trailer park off of Central Avenue.

Mr. Whitehead.

Wonder could we talk to you a minute?

Well, what's this about?

Could we step inside, sir?

I'd rather stay out here, if it's all the same to you.

You ever go to mass?

St. Michael's Church?

No, I go to First Presbyterian.

You go to their church fair, maybe?

Buy some dolls made out of straw?

What? No!

What the hell is this?

What y'all tryin' to do to me?