Jessica & Krystal (제시카 & 크리스탈)

You are being watched.

The government has a secret system.

A machine that spies on you every hour of every day.

I designed The Machine to detect acts of terror but it sees everything,

violent crimes involving ordinary people.

The government considers these people irrelevant. We don't.

Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret.

You'll never find us

but victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

I've got this. No, you don't.

You're gonna blow our cover.

- I'm rowing this boat. - Not on my watch.

Given your cover, it might be more appropriate for Mr. Reese

to have the privilege, Ms. Shaw.

You are supposed to be on a date, after all.

You're welcome.

- So who's our Romeo? His name is Ian Murphy.

He's a successful investor in a variety of businesses,

a coffee house, a nightclub, a microbrewery.

How's his portfolio?

Maybe he owes money to the wrong people.

No, all his businesses are doing quite well

and he has a stellar credit report.

He grew up quite destitute.

His parents both died when he was just a teenager

and then a kindly uncle left him nearly 100,000 dollars.

I suggest that one of you gets to Murphy's apartment

in SoHo before he returns.

What do you say we pick it up over the weekend?

I'll make you dinner. I happen to be a great chef.

A guy who knows his opera and can cook. I'm impressed.

- Is that a yes? It's an absolutely.

We gotta head back. I gotta be uptown in 20.

I'll go to his apartment, Finch. See what I can find.

Okay, but it's my turn to row this thing.

Finch? I think I got something.

Well, I hope it's regarding his phone because I've lost our connection.

I may know why. Our guy just went from blue blood to hipster

faster than you can say ironic facial hair.

I don't understand anything you just said.

He ditched his date, changed his clothes, his whole appearance.

So this guy's up to something and I'm betting it's nothing good.

Just arrived at Murphy's apartment.

- Shaw, you got an update on Murphy? It appears our boy's a ladies' man.

I followed him to some dive in the village.

New image, new girl.

We could go back to my place.

Guy's a chameleon.

Organized, efficient, sociopathic.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

It seems Mr. Murphy finds his dates online.

He meets most of the women on smartphone applications

like Tinder and Angler.

Members put up a profile and then sign in at a given location.

So much for keeping the mystery alive in a relationship.

Finch, he's keeping records.

Detailed files, tracking dozens of women.

- Where's he getting the information? From your typical stalker sites.

Anything that promises a decent background check.

It's like he's hunting them.

Why don't we just take him out now?

Just because he's a stalker doesn't mean he's a killer, Ms. Shaw.

I wouldn't be so sure, Finch.

He's got a missing persons flyer for a woman named Jenna Lakritz.

And there's an article he printed out

about a woman who died last week.

Says it was a car accident.

Car accident's a good way to cover up a homicide.

Exactly what I was thinking.

This guy may have graduated from stalker to killer after all.

(BEEPING, ELECTRONIC CHATTER)

No, ma'am. We're still searching hospitals.

But we're closing in on her.

She worked on his desk for nearly six months.

Knew about the program.

I have a feeling Ms. May knows exactly

where Northern Lights is located.

Well, if not, at least we'll know for sure.

Then I'll take care of her.

Maybe a few decades in a black site. Or something less cushy.

Yes, ma'am. I'll call you as soon as I have a location.

You seem calmer today, Robin.

I am. It's almost time for me to leave.

Where is it that you're going?

You know, that's a good question. I'm not certain yet.

Because the voice is going to tell you?

You're catching on.

Is the voice speaking to you right now?

Does it look like I'm talking to anyone other than you, doctor?

You realize that phone isn't connected to a wireless carrier.

- God doesn't need AT&T. - Mm-hmm.

Haven't I already proven to you just how powerful she is?

Well, you've certainly proven the power of your mind.

You've demonstrated great intelligence

and no doubt computer skills.

Which is how you learned all those nasty things about me.

- You know, Robin, we're all fallible. - Well, not all of us.

I suppose it's you who needs therapy.

It sounds like you have a lot to work on.

I can help you, Robin.

You suffer from delusions of grandeur,

something caused by your underlying condition.

It's not a condition. It's the future.

By the time you figure out what's really happening,

I'll have transcended this reality.

Why does your transcendence

require your imprisonment in this facility?

- She has a plan. - Which is what?

I don't know yet.

But I can't wait to find out.

Anything on the women Murphy's stalking?

The missing woman, Jenna Lakritz, is a former girlfriend of his.

I'm able to look at her cell history, but Mr. Murphy uses Vanish-text,

an application designed to delete his messages

as soon as they've been read.

Good for cheaters and killers.

What about the girl that was killed last week?

Dana Wellington. Daughter of Bruce Wellington.

Auction house owner, philanthropist, real estate magnate.

Can't seem to find anything connecting her to our Mr. Murphy

except for the fact that they attended the same college.

Mr. Reese, you didn't happen to purchase

a new collar for Bear, did you?

Or this gigantic cow femur that he's eating?

I've been a little busy, Finch.

Seems Bear has a stalker of his own.

As for Mr. Murphy, he frequents a club called "Blur."

I ran the names from the files you discovered

against women who use the Angler application.

All of them have checked into that club at least once.

I'll head there tonight.

I'll just access the club's database and create a reservation for you.

Hold off on that. I may have another idea.

We don't have enough proof to call the cops.

That doesn't mean we can't set up a trap of our own.

What are you suggesting?

Until we can figure out if he's a killer or not,

I say we stack the deck.

- Yeah? Hello, Detective.

I was hoping you could come by the safe house tonight.

I think I can assure you it'll be more interesting

than arresting aging corporate attorneys

for driving under the influence.

You wanna give me the headlines?

Only that it will require evening attire.

What I mean to say is, something elegant

but also less than conservative.

Just what kind of job is this, Finch?

Not bad.

Considering the last time I saw you, you were in a body bag.

I've been in worse places.

I think this just might work.

- So, this is where the party is. - Ms. Morgan.

This is Ms. Shaw and you know Detective Carter.

- Heard you came back from the dead. - Only eight more lives left.

- Zanotti's? - Good eye.

So we're your bait.

Rather a crude way of putting it, but I suppose it's apt.

Our target is a chameleon and probable killer.

Just once, I wish you fellas would call with something

that didn't require a firearm.

Why? Are you not carrying?

I know better than to show up unprepared.

- You have the Nano? - Yeah.

I've been dying for one of these.

- You can borrow it any time. - Mm. It's pretty.

Little gift from John.

And, now that everyone is sufficiently well-armed,

I've taken the liberty of creating profiles for all of you on Angler.

So please, download this application onto your phones

so that you can check in once you arrive at the club.

I'd like to see that profile.

- Really? A yoga instructor? - You'd prefer trained killer?

Mr. Murphy favors this application when looking for new targets.

And as far as getting his attention, I doubt that that will be an issue.

You'll have to use your charm, Shaw, not your sidearm.

I hope that's not a problem.

What is that supposed to mean?

I don't look good? Because I think I look good.

You look fine, Shaw. You just look... angry.

All the time.

We'll work on it in the car.

(ELECTRONIC DANCE MUSIC PLAYING)

Right here, lady. - Thank you.

Have a good time.

So where's our target?

Manager says he shows around midnight.

Then what are we doing here so early?

I was not gonna let those boys send us off as killer bait

- without getting something in return. - I like your style.

Sorry, girls, my system only runs on diesel.

So, what should we drink to?

Here's hoping nobody gets serial-killed.

Okay, ladies, time for us to check in.

How you doing up there, Fusco?

Yeah, all clear. Although this place is a rip-off.

Club soda cost me five dollars.

Nice view, though.

Joss. Relax.

Lionel's upstairs, John's outside.