Previously, on Alcatraz...
Meet the '63s.
The worst criminals this country has ever known
are coming back.
Grandfather wasn't a guard, he was an inmate.
That's him.
Tommy Madsen?
He killed my partner.
Police!
So we have to find these '63s.
We need to find who took them.
- Jack, put down the gun. - Do it.
- Get on your knees! - This is where I belong!
Lucy, get down!
Did she ever talk to you about a DNR?
Are you saying she's dying?
You know her methods. Fix her.
Say what you want about modern technology.
We're still at the mercy of the gods.
I've tried electroshock,
traumatic memory therapy,
acupuncture.
Every damn thing I know to have been in her toolkit.
She remains stubbornly unresponsive.
Why is her EEG active?
She's dreaming.
Dreaming.
And whatever she's dreaming about
is evidently better than her options here
in our so-called reality.
- So, she sleeps. - Deeply.
So, what's next?
Simple.
Read to her.
Harold Robbins.
The carpetbaggers. It's a modern classic.
And one of Dr. Sangupta's guilty pleasures,
if I'm not mistaken.
I believe the sound of your voice
might draw her to the surface,
where my science might reach her.
Call me when you have a tangible treatment to discuss.
Hey! Hey, guy!
Hey!
Our friend just got engaged.
It's our job to get him laid,
your job to get him drunk.
"We can brave human laws,
but we cannot resist natural ones."
Jules Verne.
You got a problem, pal?
Just make the drinks, okay?
No problem.
As a matter of fact,
let me make you something special.
What a loser.
Did you see?
Let's what you got. Catch.
Go!
There it is, man.
Hey, McKee, Cullen wants you.
Yeah, I don't deal with his type.
You don't got a choice.
Mikey Cullen.
I know who you are.
I guess a loss of anonymity is the price you pay
when people are scared of you.
I need a favor.
Squirrely mug jumping kings over there needs killing.
Grindle the librarian?
Why do you want to kill him?
Selling pig stickers outta the library.
I got my own guy selling shivs.
This place is lousy with murderers. Why me?
Poison gets the job done quiet.
If I say no?
You don't want to say no to me.
I guess every schoolyard's got a bully.
Yeah, well, this ain't no schoolyard, McKee.
Get the job done, or it'll be you who needs killing.
Here you go, fellas.
- Hey! - It's about time.
This one's on me.
You okay?
What's the matter?-
Someone, help me!
Someone call 911! Help!
Help me!
The doctor is in.
The doctor is operating.
And the world is his plaything.
Four gate rush,
Child's play.
That's all you got?
Dr. Traz,
your refresh rate is, like, zero.
What are you, on some kind of Pentagon mainframe?
I'm the grand master.
Wait.
Someone, help me!
Someone call 911!
Boy.
Johnny McKee.
Doc, what are you doing up so late? Everything okay?
No, no, it's not okay.
I got a possible '63 match on Lucy's computer.
Johnny McKee. A really bad cat.
He killed over 70 people in '58.
Okay, slow down.
And now, there's a viral video of him from some Chinatown club
where people are dying or just died,
and I'm watchin' it!
When was the video uploaded?
2 1/2 minutes ago.
I'm gonna call Hauser.
You text me the address, and I'll meet you there.
On march 21, 1963,
Alcatraz officially closed.
All the prisoners were transferred off the island...
Only that's not what happened.
Not at all.
ALCATRAZ S01 Ep07 - Johnny McKee
Sync and corrected by dr.jackson for www.addic7ed.com
Right in here.
Morning.
You get any sleep?
Nope.
What have we got?
Johnny McKee.
Grew up in Oregon, smart guy,
but shy, dorky, not a lot of friends.
You know the type.
He taught organic chemistry at junior college,
then, in his spare time, he poisoned people.
Cyanide was his drug of choice.
He started small, and then it escalated,
till he murdered most of his high school class.
42 people at their 15-year reunion.
M.O.?
At the reunion, he posed as a janitor,
rigging the sprinklers with Zyklon A.
A cyanide-based pesticide.
So, police are calling this a drug overdose.
Could it be cyanide?
We won't know until the tox screen comes back.
Manager's over at the bar.
Hi. I'm detective Madsen.
You seen this man?
Yeah, sure. That's Johnny. He applied two days ago.
Did you interview him?
"Make me a Martini." That was his interview.
Did he fill out an application?
- Yeah. - Can I see it?
- Sure. - Thank you.
So, why these four guys?
McKee's victims were usually men.
- They never figured out why? - No.
And he never would say.
Here you go.
All right, we got an address.
142 South Broadway Boulevard. Apartment 335.
That's in the Richmond District.
Man.
What do you got there?
Four dudes bit it at a club last night.
Video went viral.
Is it on the television?
Television? Hello, it's called the Internet.
McKee? Walk with me.
We have a demanding clientele. A lot of high rollers.
They can be tough on you.
Pool boy went to lunch yesterday and didn't bother coming back.
Third time in two weeks.
So, where have you worked before?
Let's see, uh, a library, a garden,
a laundry.
Then you know how to fold towels.
Can you mix pool chemicals?
My favorite class was chemistry.
You're hired.
142 Broadway.
This is it.
So, it's a fake address.
Wait. I'm an idiot.
It's not a fake, it's his address.
From 50 years ago.
142 was McKee's cell number
on the Broadway strip of the cell block.
Cell blocks had evens on the left and odds on the right,
so whoever was in 144 was next door to McKee.
You know who that was?
Jack Sylvane.
Someone, help me!
Someone call 911! Help!
Well, I'm guessing that's not good for us.
You just did that, didn't you?
Tell me about McKee.
We got a break.
Guess who was in the cell next to him at Alcatraz.
Jack Sylvane.
We need to go talk to him.
Why?
The address was a bust. Tox screen could take days.
Jack could know something.
We could track this guy down before he hits again.
You know what, just tell me the prison Jack's at,
and I'll go talk to him.
All right. I'll bring him to you.
Anything on the tox screen yet?
Can't get your friend Nikki on the phone.
Yeah, Nikki and phones. It's complicated.
Just go down there. I told her to check for cyanide.
You want me to go see Nikki by myself?
I know, it's at the morgue. Is that gonna be a problem, Doc?
Problem? No. It's no problem at all.
Was this all from McKee's box?
Sure is.
Jar of petrified bugs.
Yikes.
20,000 leagues under the sea, a whole bunch of articles.
The future is now."
He must have been a fan.
I was doing some reading about McKee's last mass murder.
The high school reunion.
He plead "not guilty" to killing his classmates,
despite being caught at the scene
with the poison in his possession.
He stuck around to watch.
Like the viral video.
So, "not guilty" by reason of insanity?
No, justifiable homicide.
He said the men were bullies.
All the men in his graduating class?
No, just the football team.
McKee was a chemistry geek. Maybe they were picking on him.
Or her.
This was in the box too.
Ginny.
Sister or girlfriend, maybe?
Maybe he's taking revenge on the world
for whoever did that to her.
Hey.
Towel boy.
I need a fresh towel.
Yes, sir.
I'm looking for a book.
Something sharp and to the point.
You get my drift?
You're a subtle bastard,
Maybe you landed this work detail just to get a sticker.
You got me.
What do you got for me?
Sharpest sticker I got.
You going to movie night?
It's a Western.
Born reckless, with Mamie van Doren.
I prefer to read.
That's a shame. I hear there's a flash of melon.
You just sweetened the deal, now, didn't ya?
You bet I'll be there.
Who are they?
Ask your questions.
Hey, Jack.
You were at the cemetery...
When I got caught.
That's right.
You didn't shoot me.
No.
My name's Rebecca Madsen.
I'm a detective, and I have to ask you about Johnny McKee.
McKee.
And if I don't answer,
is he gonna give me to Beauregard again?
- Jack. - Who's Beauregard?
You're here about McKee.
What's in it for me?
Nothing.
I think this belongs to you.
Bet you'd like to have it back.
Where'd you find that?
Everything from your cell
was put in a box after you disappeared.
50 years ago.
How long were you in San Francisco
before I found you?
A few days.
Where'd you come back?
Here.
Alcatraz.
How?
That's my question to you.
McKee.
I don't know how you got here either.
Hey, Sylvane, pack of camels says
you're staring at that picture of your girl.
Well, Johnny...
You ever had a girl,
maybe you'd understand.
I had a girl once.
Ginny Winters.
So damn pretty.
There was this one night
we went to the malt shop, had egg creams,
talked all the way till they closed the place.
Afterwards we went up to the roof.
We held hands.
She had the warmest hands.
I was telling her all about Jules Verne.
How all the way back in the 1800s
he was writing about how we would travel underwater.
And Ginny said I was smart.
That other boys were stupid.
That they didn't know how to talk about things.
And then she kissed me.
It was the kind of kiss
where whatever happens the rest of your life,
it's enough to know that you had that kiss.
What happened to her?
I couldn't tell you.
He was an oddball.
Nose in the books. Science fiction.
Men on the moon. Mad sea captains.
Jules Verne.
Yeah. Verne.
Couldn't shut up about him.
"The future is now."
What?
The future.
Right around the corner, he always said.
You ever hear of the Nautilus?
Submarine.
Two years ago...
The USS Nautilus passed through the San Francisco bay,
spitting distance from this Rock,
on its way to the North Pole.
- Is that so? - Yup.
So, Verne was right.
He's got this other book too,
all about man landing on the moon.
The moon?
Now you're talking crazy.
Mark my words...
It's comin'.
He kept a jar of bugs in his cell.
Called it his "killing jar."
How'd he kill the bugs?
He pulled garden duty a lot.
Collected these weird plants.
- This one with big, yellow seeds. - He'd crush 'em.
He'd drop 'em in the jar and watch the bugs die.
Poisonous plant.
Some kind of nightshade.
It's all over the island.
We're outta here.
Did you know an inmate named Tommy Madsen?
Let's go.
2-0-0-2, yeah.
He was in the infirmary a lot, giving blood.
He was sick?
- It was hard to say. - Wait.
They didn't need an excuse to do whatever they wanted to you.
He told me one time about a hole underneath the hole.
Under the strip cells.
You know what that means?
Here at Alcatraz?
All right, time's up.
We got another poisoning.
- Your name's Madsen, right? - Yeah.
You got the same eyes.
Doc, hey, McKee used nightshade.
The kind that's here on the island.
White-margined nightshade.
Yeah, they imported it from Ethiopia.
Only thing that would grow here.
All right, great. Well, when you're finished with Nikki,
find out if anyone sells in the city.
Maybe McKee's been there.
Male genitalia, average size, unremarkable.
'Scuse me?
What are you doing here, Doc?
I'm here about the toxicology results from the Chinatown club.
It's negative for common drugs of abuse.
What about cyanide?
Also negative.
Can you run more tests?
We process about 500 cases a month,
so we have to pick our battles.
Not everyone gets the whole enchilada.
Don't say "enchilada."
Is that it?
I gotta get John Doe number seven back into the freezer.
Okay, cool.
I mean, not "cool" as in freezer, just...
You know, cool.
Manager I.D.'d McKee.
Security cameras show he's long gone by now.
Must have tampered with the chemicals in the filtration system.
Well, could he have used nightshade in the pool?
M.E. says no.
Great, now we have a mystery chemical on our hands.
McKee is upping his game.
So, since he did this in a swimming pool,
you think he'd do this to the city's water supply?
Text from Doc, it's not cyanide.
But he's got a lead on the nightshade. You mind taking a ride?
Well, ain't you a sight for very sore eyes?
It's good to meet you, Mr. McKee.
"Mister."
I haven't been called that in a while.
Easy now, McKee.
This lady's a doctor.
Poisoning's a very personal crime.
We all have our gifts.
Mine was for chemistry.
Your gift left 70 people dead.
And I sincerely regret my actions.
I'm much improved.
I would not, nor could I, hurt a fly or any other creature.
Johnny thinks he's at a parole hearing,
that his answers will buy him freedom.
They won't, Mr. McKee.
I'm here to help you, that's all.
What kind of help do I need?
Out of the 70 victims, the majority were men.
Why did you choose them?
I'd say more like they chose me.
You needn't be sarcastic. I could be your ally.
I do not reach above my lot for any purpose.
What does that mean?
Just you're pretty. That's all.
Johnny.
Do you dream about your killings, Mr. McKee?
I don't dream, Dr. Sengupta, I sleep like a baby.
Ding, ding, ding, ding. Time's up.
The hell? I thought you said this was gonna last an hour.
For those who cooperate
and partake of what Dr. Sengupta has to offer.
Guard.
Perhaps next time you'll be more forthcoming.
Hello.
When was he last here?
Forgot to mention he only speaks Chinese.
McKee was here, he was looking for nightshade.
Mr. Lee didn't have any,
but he obtained some from his sources,
and had his boy deliver it.
Does Mr. Lee have McKee's address?
Yeah.
You think it's another fake?
I think he wanted the nightshade,
and he doesn't know people are looking for him.
What was that about?
He says my Qi is murky.
McKee had his stuff delivered to an abandoned high school?
No one around to see.
He's not here.
Not anymore.
Hey, come on in.
Vent's still on. Might be coming back.
It smells.
Like grass.
Like fresh-cut grass.
What is it with scientists and mice?
You know what he's got cooking?
COCl2, maybe.
Google it.
Phosgene.
"In low concentrations its odor resembles hay or grass.
"Used as a chemical weapon "during world war I.
"Acts upon the pulmonary alviolae, causing suffocation.
"Stored as a liquid.
Turns to gas at room temperature."
Water soluble?
Solubility in water... Yes.
Well, that sounds like our mystery chemical.
One he used in the pool.
And that's a long way from cyanide and nightshade.
What's next, and where is he gonna use it?
"The future is now."
From McKee's box.
Newspaper article.
The future is now."
"An underwater subway tunnel
"devoted to high-speed electric trains
"will pass underneath the bay,
linking San Francisco and Oakland."
Eastbay tube.
You think he's gonna use poison on the subway?
Do you know how many people ride that thing?
It's a killing jar for people.
- Who are you? - Hey, chief, how are ya?
Dispatch wants me to come and check...
- Look at that. - What?
- You see that? - What?
Hey, Grindle.
Saved you a good one.
Show!
Show, show, show, show...
Why do we all love a Western?
In other company, I'd say it's the time-honored tradition
of watching good triumph over evil.
But here...
Amongst these decrepit masses,
well, the thought just don't seem to apply.
Heck, you lags don't know if you're on horseback or foot,
if you're defecating or going blind.
Either way,
you'll be stompin' and cloppin',
and it won't for a moment concern you why.
Born reckless.
Starring Mamie van Doren.
Don't smoke.
Ticktock, McKee.
I'm just waiting for Mamie's grand finale.
Sorry for the delay, folks.
We'll be moving again shortly.
Movie's over!
On your feet. Let's go.
You glad you came?
Hey, Grindle.
Best melons I've seen in years.
The only melons you've seen in years.
Cut the chatter.
Back to your cells.
Hey, Cullen.
Come on, let's move it.
The hell?
He's dead.
Line up!
Line up for count! No one leaves!
You heard him!
Against the wall, all of you!
Who you think had the stones to kill Cullen?
Could be anyone.
Nobody likes a bully.
Only route that goes underwater is the Eastbay tube.
There's gotta be four different lines that use that tunnel.
Originating from all over the East Bay.
Line's flashing red. What does that mean?
That means the train stopped.
Under the bay. That's gotta be him.
What's the quickest way down there?
Emergency escape tubes.
You could take a maintenance cart.
This is ridiculous.
Come on, get it moving.
Hey, guys! The train's on fire!
You guys! Train's on fire!
We gotta get out! Open it!
Stop the car.
Please help!
Help us!
My God! Get me outta here!
We gotta break the glass!
Get back!
Lend us a hand!
Here. Let's go. Get my hand.
Hauser!
McKee!
Don't do this!
Stay down!
He still has a pulse.
Let's get him out of here.
Traffic through the Eastbay tube came to a halt
this Saturday evening after an SFTA train experienced
mechanical problems, causing major delays.
Passengers were evacuated, due to a gas leak
in a faulty vent.
Maintenance teams were able to quickly repair the damage,
and trains have now resumed normal service.
Where they come up with that stuff?
Where do you think?
Got an I.D. on our burn girl Ginny.
Virginia Winters, from McKee's hometown.
Went to the same school.
Hospital records show that she was injured
when a bottle of acid dye exploded in her face.
Form of ferrocyanide.
So, it was McKee.
Could've been.
But why?
You enjoy the movie last night?
Well, who doesn't enjoy a good Western?
Michael Cullen, perhaps.
Looks as if that movie was his last.
Dr. Beauregard said he was poisoned.
Wonder who could've managed such a feat in a room of 40 people.
It's a real brain-twister.
You're very angry, Mr. McKee.
Try to hide it, but I can see it.
Something good's coming, I can tell.
Ding.
Okay, okay.
I'll cooperate.
Tell me about the girl.
What girl?
Virginia Winters.
I don't know who that is.
Ding.
Or maybe, uh...
Yeah, I remember somebody with that name from school.
- Was she your girlfriend? - No.
Just the prettiest girl in class.
- But you had a date. - Egg cream is all.
The local malt shop.
And then what happened?
- Nothing. - Ding.
- Nothing happened. - Ding, ding, ding.
You can ding from here to kingdome come.
I'm telling you, nothing else happened.
So, after the egg creams,
she didn't take you to the roof of the gym,
where it was nice and dark,
and she didn't kiss you and get your clothes off,
and the lights didn't pop on,
and the football team wasn't there,
and they didn't laugh and throw firecrackers at you,
and one of those cherry bombs didn't hit you in your privates
and take your testicles, leaving you as half a man...
And you haven't spent your whole life looking for revenge.
I can help you with that memory, Mr. McKee.
I can make it go away.
But first, you have to tell me the truth.
Who is this girl?
She...
She did all those things, as you said.
And what did you do to her?
I burned her...
With acid.
You asked me what I, uh, dream about.
I dream about her face.
Okay, Johnny.
Now I can help you.
Still no.
W... you jumped the punchline, sir.
Inmate Sylvane is requesting the pleasure of your company.
You can have this back.
Why is that?
I don't want it anymore.
I'm done with staring at pictures of dead people.
Thinking about a life I'm never gonna have.
What's gonna happen to us?
Happen?
I keep hoping this is some...
Nightmare I'm gonna wake up from.
It's not.
You were in prison then, you're in prison now.
Take away the passing of 50 years,
nothing's changed for you.
I've changed.
How's that?
I don't dream.
My God, man.
You didn't think I was serious about the pulp, did you?
"Of bodies changed to various forms, I sing:
"Ye gods, from whom these miracles did spring,
"inspire my numbers with celestial heat...
Till I my long, laborious work complete."
Sync and corrected by dr.jackson for www.addic7ed.com