The Blacklist

I've lost the will.

Performing at my level,

there's absolutely no room for error.

It's just a lot of pressure, you know?

Too much.

We've talked about the adverse ways

that pressure has manifested in your life,

but we've also discovered helpful ways.

Remember, behind every shadow, there is a light.

Your next performance is this afternoon?

Oh, my God. I-I don't think I can.

Randall, look at me.

Randall.

The time has come for you to tell yourself a different story.

Embrace the shadow, and you will find the light.

Now, close your eyes and visualize.

You're on the way to the venue.

You feel the music.

Take a moment and let it center you.

It reminds you that you, too, are a virtuoso.

And, as you have 100 times before,

you take out your instrument...

and find the light.

They know.

Heber's just covering his ass.

Charlene vouched for me.

She lied to give me an alibi.

Clearly, he doesn't believe her.

You're a cop. Heber's a cop.

Alright, he just doesn't wanna seem like

he's playing favorites.

That's all this is.

He doesn't suspect you.

He will when the ballistics come back.

Or haven't you been listening?

Heber was here an hour ago,

with a warrant to test my service weapon.

When he does, he's gonna know it was my gun

that was used to kill Doug Koster.

Harold, it's going to be fine.

My wife had an affair with Koster.

Day after he's killed,

Heber sees me at the crime scene.

My gun's the murder weapon.

In what world does that add up to "fine"?

Agnes: Is Pinky still coming over?

He sure is.

Alright, look, I should get going.

We'll talk later.

Stop worrying.

Well, hello, you.

But when Pinky comes over, we're gonna have to talk

for a couple minutes, then he's all yours.

What're you gonna talk about?

That's the thing about Pinky.

He always keeps you guessing.

Red: I assume this is on your radar.

It is.

Everyone's looking for the congressman's would-be assassin.

Mm. Naturally.

But everyone is wrong.

The congressman wasn't the target.

The victim was... Mary Parrot.

An assassin's bullet narrowly misses

a controversial politician because it was actually aimed at

a beloved philanthropist?

Her philanthropy was beloved.

Her zeal for historical preservation... not so much.

She single-handedly spiked dozens of construction projects

that she believed would blight her fair city,

denying powerful people fortunes large and even larger,

including Vito DeCanio.

You think the DeCanio Crime Syndicate

had Mary Parrot killed?

I do. So you're putting them on the Blacklist.

Criminals we already know exist.

What you know about the DeCanios is that they were weak,

and now they're strong.

What you don't know is why or who is responsible

for their dramatic resurgence.

It's not the old man?

His therapist, actually.

Dr. Roberta Sand.

Everyone in the organization sees her.

Vito's orders. A therapist.

To the mob.

Who makes the mob more effective.

Self-actualized.

The shrink helps them

fully realize their potential as criminals.

Listen, I'm a criminal, and however realized I may be

is due in large part to shrinks and shamans,

rabbis and monks.

They hold me together like a psychological bandage,

without which my sufferings would be insufferable.

You told me that if you came back,

names would be taken, a price would be paid.

But you didn't tell me what names or why.

I don't know the names,

and without them, I don't know the why.

Are you don't talking yet?

We are.

Which means it's time for me to get to the office

and for you two to have fun.

Mooms is upstairs.

If you or Pinky get hungry, she can make you something.

Oh, now. What's that?

I'll play anything but gin again.

At least until I read up on it a little.

You're too good, and I was hopeless.

It's not gin.

It's a memory game.

Matching U.S. states and their capitals.

Oh, my. Okay.

Let's do it. I'm ready.

Although, I don't think I'll fare any better

than I did in gin.

Well, at least this time, you have an excuse.

What?

I'm fine. My memory is fine.

Sort of.

I'm older, not ancient.

Well, I didn't mean that.

I mean you won't know the capitals

because you're not from here.

I wouldn't know the capitals of Russia.

Okay. Here's how you play.

Cooper: Vito DeCanio was a relic of the past.

A lion in winter.

Until, according to Reddington,

he hired a therapist who goes by Dr. Roberta Sand.

He's convinced the DeCanio family's recent rise

is her doing. That won't last long.

A witness is in federal custody who's going to testify tomorrow

that DeCanio himself ordered

three separate hits on his rivals.

I've been to therapy since I was 10.

I've never heard of a shrink who tries to help people get worse.

10.

I was, um, having a hard time with differential calculus.

You learned calculus at 10?

Well, I learned it at 8.

I taught it at 10. Or, uh, tried to.

My parents just couldn't grasp the concepts.

It was an incredibly frustrating time for everyone.

I'm not sure I believe a therapist should be

held responsible for DeCanio's upswing,

but according to Reddington, DeCanio thinks she is.

That makes her very valuable to us.

Vito tells me he has a project for you.

He says it requires teamwork and cooperation.

But he says you'd rather piss on each other

and say that it's raining.

So, any thoughts?

- Do we know anything about her? - Nothing.

No photos, no prints,

and a search on her alias went nowhere.

If we have no leads, where should we start?

Mary Parrot.

Reddington says she isn't the unfortunate victim

of a bullet meant for a politician.

He says that she was a preservationist

who sidetracked a number of lucrative developments.

DeCanio stood to benefit from.

So, he had her killed.

Maybe.

And maybe her killer was under the good doctor's care.

Find him, and maybe we find her.

Park asked if he could come.

How're they doing?

Not great.

She thought him seeing where she works might help.

You want me to bring him to her?

No, I'll do it.

We're a little short-handed

since Ressler's taking a personal day.

You two stay focused on finding Mary Parrot's killer.

Hey.

I'm glad you're here.

Are the episodes getting any better?

If by better, you mean it feels like I'm being

stabbed in the eyes with a fork instead of a knife,

then sure.

The quiet helps.

And caffeine. Anyway, uh, it's all passed now.

Come on. Lemme give you a tour.

I don't need a tour.

You wanting me to come is enough.

What I do is secret.

That I do it shouldn't be.

Not from you.

I'm sorry I didn't tell you.

I've been reading medical journals,

researching everything I can to find out what happened.

Whether we lost the baby because of my job,

the directed-energy weapon...

I know you want to know the reason.

I'm sorry you don't.

Man, I just keep saying sorry, don't I?

It's fine.