Cosima: Okay, define orphan, Sarah.
Orphan, orphanage.
So, you don't know your birth parents?
No, I was fostered out
then legally adopted and I came here.
- Cosima: When? - Adopted, like, eight.
Came here around 12.
Heartbreaking. Can we get back to Beth, please?
Suicide?
I don't accept that.
This one's some kind of low-life grifter.
How do we know she didn't push her?
Oi! I already told you, I didn't wanna be her.
I got stuck. I was running from my own shit.
- I can only imagine. - Alison.
I'm very sorry about Beth, okay?
But she was Losing it, like clinically.
She was a cop.
She had tools. If she couldn't cope, then I mean...
Look, can you just tell me what the hell this is?
- Don't tell her anything. - Uh, short answer?
No.
- How are we all related? - We're not.
Well, we are, by nature.
Um, she's referring to nurture.
Just give us the briefcase that you got from the German.
I'm not giving you shit till you give me some answers.
You don't rate answers.
- Alison... - Fine, she wants in?
We're clones.
We're someone's experiment and they're killing us off.
Is that helpful? Hmm?
Gemma: Mummy?
Gemma, come here.
Who are those ladies?
Just... They're just mummy's friends.
Why did you get out of bed?
Sorry.
I wanted to float that whole clone thing a lot softer.
Come on, Sarah... oh, shit.
You're not supposed to be parked here at night.
Um, I'm... I'm waiting for someone.
Well, this is a neighborhood watch block, so...
Come on, girl.
Bitch that guards hell.
Screw it.
Cosima: We are genetically identical, or whatever.
It's actually kinda cool.
Um, as far as...
Shit. Shit!
Was there someone there?
- Oh, my god! - Freeze!
What are you doing in my yard?
Don't! Do not shoot me, please!
- Why are you here? - Do not shoot, please.
- Hey, Alison. Alison. - Okay.
- Put it down. - Get out of the way.
He's with me.
- Okay? - Move!
It's okay.
Oh, shit.
You point a gun at my brother again
I will kick the living shite out of you!
We need to get my shit.
What the hell were you doing here?
Hey, you need this?
You just broke the first rule of clone club.
What? Never tell anyone about clone club?
Uh, awkward. I'm cosima.
You have my number.
You want answers, I want the briefcase.
Seriously, it's life or death.
Felix: You've got to be kidding me.
Clones?
They're not me. They're not.
They're completely different people.
"Soccer mum" Sarah.
"Dreadlock science geek" Sarah.
Arguably more attractive than your "evil" Sarah.
Yeah, I was there. Thank you.
How can it be, though?
What difference does it make, fe?
Last time I checked, human cloning was illegal, let alone impossible.
Yeah, leave it out, okay? It doesn't matter.
It does matter!
Dead Beth, dead German.
Those two, three other Euros, you, that's eight.
And dreadlocks is going on about a blood sample
saying it's life or death. You can't just ignore it.
Yes, I can.
I'm just me, okay?
The song remains the same.
We get the 75 grand back from Beth's partner, we get Kira,
and we get as far away from all this as possible.
Am I going insane?
Hey, Beth, thought you were still off.
Uh, yeah. Just can't get enough.
Um, is art around?
Art: Beth, what the hell's going on?
Sarah: Uh, yeah. I've gotta talk to you for a couple of seconds.
Hey. Company?
Yeah.
Look, things are bad with Paul.
- Okay. - We're dividing up our shit.
Any second he's gonna find that joint account empty.
Look, you get the cash when you're back on active duty.
That's the deal.
Childs.
- Sorry, just saying hello. - No, you're not.
Both of you.
Bad news.
You're reinstated.
Art: Holy shit.
Lieutenant: Welcome back.
Well, thank god.
Buckle up, kid. You got a 10-45.
Uh_.hey
two seconds.
Sarah: Shit.
Do you want help with that?
Yeah, you mind?
Female dispatcher over radio: Rory road and allster,
confirmed 10-45. Forensic on site.
So, art, about our deal. I'm reinstated now...
Hey, I'm not carrying around
75 grand in the trunk, all right?
Just call us in.
Heading for the 10-45. Roger.
Dispatcher: Responder, please identify.
55. Heading for the 10-45.
Roger.
- Out. - Copy.
What?
Something wrong?
Art: Body's chewed up pretty bad.
What do you think?
I think that some idiot didn't realize
they were burying a body next to an active quarry.
Got a pretty good tire print over there.
I'd say the body wasn't in the ground more than two, maybe three days.
Hey, welcome back.
Now, this would be your industrial sausage maker.
Nice of them to lend a hand, though.
Print?
Janis: They better hit 'cause, uh...
Reconstructing the face is gonna be tough.
Can we get the guy to open this thing up?
I need to, uh, make a call, yeah?
One sec.
Sarah: I can't talk or meet. Just answer the question.
Oh, okay, okay. Um...
Our fingerprints are close enough to flag a match, yeah.
- Why? - Beth's partner found the German.
At least part of her.
- Part of her? - Yeah.
Um, I messed up when I buried her.
They have a fingerprint, cosima.
- Oh, wait, are you being Beth right now? - Yes.
Yes, I'm at the bloody crime scene pretending to be a bloody cop.
So I need to know if the bloody fingerprints will flag a bloody match.
Whoa. Okay, okay. Don't freak out.
They need to use Interpol to find the German, which is unlikely.
But, um, if one of us had a criminal record here...
Do you have a criminal record?
Just...
Petty fraud, assault, whatever.
Wasted youth, all right?
If the body matches me, the cops will see a mug shot of somebody who looks like Beth.
Only, it's yours truly, and I'm already supposed to be dead.
Wow, wow. Welcome to the trip, man.
That is not helpful.
Yeah, okay, sorry. Just don't bolt.
Okay, don't bolt.
They can't run prints instantaneously,
so we do have some time here.
How much time?
Bring me the briefcase and we'll talk.
Okay?
Beckwith will have an exact time of death soon,
but till then, I say we ballpark two, three days,
see who's missing.
And, uh, fingerprints?
About a couple of days?
Yeah, you know the lab. Hopefully overnight.
Uh, look, art, um, this shit with Paul
is about to go sideways, okay?
I need to get to the bank.
Let me see your weapon.
- Huh? - Come on.
Show it to me.
It's empty.
Yeah, well, we left in a hurry.
You rode with me empty.
Art, it's a 10-45 for legs.
Right, art? Like, I mean, who am I gonna shoot?
That's bullshit, Beth,
for regs and your partner.
Look, if this shooting has you trigger-shy, Beth, you got...
No, I'm not. I'm not. I'm not.
Just give me an hour or two to get up to speed, for Christ's sake.
You can "get up to speed" on the desk, then.
I'll work this with deangelis.
Now, get out of here.
- Hey, art... - Look, if you ask me
about that money one more time, Beth,
I swear to god, it's going in the shredder.
Hey.
Don't worry, you get used to it.
Two clones? Yeah, I'm not buying that.
How many of us you need to meet, Sarah?
Can I have the briefcase, please.
I want some answers first.
You know what? The answers are in the briefcase.
Let me guess,
you're the smart one, you're the wild one.
Would you believe we're clones?
- Bourbon, rocks. - You got it.
So you're the scientist the German talked about.
Uh, yes. Well, phd student, um...
Uh, evolutionary developmental biology at university of Minnesota.
I'm heading back there tonight.
The German was sick. Should I be worried about that?
Well, if you give me the case, I'll know in a couple of weeks.
Do you know who shot her in the head?
Okay.
So, six months ago, uh,
katja contacted Beth with this crazy story
about her genetic identicals being hunted in Europe.
Hunted?
Brilliant.
I know.
So, so, Beth used facial recognition software
to find driver's licenses in North America.
Two matches.
- You and soccer bitch. - Yes, right.
But who is the original?
Who's created us?
Who's killing us?
We need to know, but we lost our cop.
So, however you managed to get into her shoes,
we really need you to stay there.
Stay a cop to help you.
To help us.
Help us find out who's killing us.
How? I'm not a cop.
Beth's partner's gonna figure that out.
Being Beth is what got me into this mess in the first place.
I know, I know. I get it, I get it.
But you can't run away from her.
Look, we are your biological imperative now.
Okay? Katja's fingerprints will match your fingerprints.
So, get to katja's fingerprint results somehow.
I think that's our only option.
All right.
Just answer me one thing.
Anything, yes.
If we're genetically identical,
do you get that little patch of dry skin between your eyebrows?
That's good.
Try to keep your sense of humor.
Beth couldn't.
No cream?
Booked on the range, day after tomorrow, 4:00.
The range?
The gun range.
You with me or not?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
So, what about Jane Doe?
Beckwith filled a bucket with fragments from the hopper.
Couple solids so far.
Dyed red hair, like bright red.
And laying out the skull fragments
she's 99% sure she found entry and exit wounds.
Shooting.
So, what about the prints?
Start calling.
And keep calling while you clear that shit pile of a desk.
Hey, sorry about poaching your seat on this, eh?
He's all yours.
- Let's go. - Yeah.
Detective bell.
Yeah, well, what can you tell me about her?
Jane Doe.
Hey, hey. Shh, shh.
Uh, you...
You want to give me that again?
Distorted Russian accented voice: Am I speaking to your partner now, too, art?
Actually, we love voice change apps, so...
The whole office is listening.
She was just one of a few,
unfit for family.
Horse glue.
Art: So you didn't like her very much.
How about you tell us her name?
She expired at allenside park.
Angela: Fuck.
So, what, Stephen Hawking did it?
No, no, no. The call came to me.
"Just one of a few unfit for family."
Angela: "Horse glue"? Shit.
Art, what else did they say?
They asked if I was the lead on the "quarry body".
Listen, before we go,
- we'll check the desk to see who took the call. - Angela: Yeah.
Uh, you going to allenside?
Yeah. Check the log to see if there were any shots fired down there.
Okay, look, I'll see you in a bit. Okay?
Hey...
Raj.
Detective.
Beth.
-Um,
so you probably know I've been off for a while.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Uh, nightmare.
PTSD,
fatal civilian shooting, enquiry, medication,
the whole enchilada.
- Gum? - Uh... thanks.
So, I guess you're back, then, right?
Mmm, I'm benched.
I'm trying to slip in without, you know, a ripple,
But on the down low, I'm a little scattered, memory-wise.
You think you could help me with a few basics?
Oh, like resetting your password?
Yes, like that.
And the whole procedure for fingerprint results.
I said an hour, Childs.
- I haven't checked yet. - They're in, though?
'Cause I got a Jane Doe with zero leads.
They're probably in my inbox. Just hang on.
Yep, not a problem.
- Childs... - "Results from central..." I'm helping you out.
Technician: I gotta log those.
It's all good.
Nothing, anyway.
Don't do that again, Childs.
I don't know, art. You think someone's jerking your chain?
- Auto glass. - Hmm.
Looks like a fast exit that way.
I don't see any casings.
Could be line of fire.
- The range. - Hmm.
I've seen her elaborate ruses and guises before,
but how do you do this?
How do you fake your own demise beneath a train?
Wouldn't you rather know why?
I don't care to know why.
Because I saw a way to dump Vic and get out of that life.
And get away with Kira.
Take her on the run with you. Brilliant.
New clothes and a Jaguar do not a mother make.
The other point.
I don't remember.
Buffleheads.
Barrow's goldeneye.
Just passing through.
I'll set up a visit.
But the only way you will regain custody of Kira
is to show me that you can be still.
You're not her legal guardian.
Mine either, anymore.
You can visit any other approach
and I will stop lying to social services for you.
You wouldn't do that to Kira.
No. I'd do it to you.
Hey, someone cleared this out. Laid down in here.
Around here? Probably homeless.
Yeah. But someone moved this into position.
Hey, this look like a blind to you?
A log for someone to lay a rifle on?
Weeds knocked down for sightlines.
Where are you?
Cosima: Um, back at school.
What? School? What? Oh, shit, right. Right, right, right.
Minneapolis, shit.
Uh, what's going on?
Well, I managed to scrap the fingerprint results for a while anyway.
But the killer contacted art, cosima.
He's already at the scene where katja was shot.
Okay, that's good. Just... just stick with him.
I can't. He's... He's benched me because I'm bloody useless.
I need help, cosima.
He wants me on the range tomorrow. I've never even fired a gun.
All right. Well, just hold tight, we know somebody who can help with that.
- You serious? - If you are.
You know we got a motorcycle tread over here, art.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Yeah, it's a good print, could be the shooter's getaway.
Yeah, but a long gun on a motorcycle.
Could be the weapon broke down, right?
Yeah, it could be.
Hey, I got something over here.
Headshot.
Bright red hair.
It has to be this morning.
Art's got me chasing down motorcycle models from tire tracks,
and I'm shooting bloody targets at a gun range tomorrow.
Well, I can't just conjure a sitter out of thin air. It's weekend primetime, Sarah.
Well, then we're all screwed.
Aren't we?
Donnie...
Can you watch the kids for a couple of hours today?
- Golf. - Give it.
- On television? - No, I have a tee time, remember?
I'm sorry, I'm coming up empty.
I may have a solution.
Gemma, Oscar, this is Felix.
Hello.
- Brilliant. - So, I'm going out for a couple of hours.
So you be good.
Mommy's gonna be very upset. Okay?
Same goes for you.
So, what now?
Does your daddy have a drinks trolley?
What's that?
Don't worry, I'll find it.
You.
- You want to dress up like a little girl? - No.
Well, I don't have anything for you then.
I'll dress up like a boy.
We can work with that.
Raj on phone: No, the make and model matched the tread that deangelis sent you.
A sports bike suzuki sv650.
Oh, black tank, custom pipes, and stolen when?
Uh, reported four days ago.
I... I should probably get back to my real job now.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, just put out a... You know...
- An apb. - Yes. Yes, asap.
Um, sorry, I'm at the doctor. My phone's about to die.
Okay. I'll get someone to do it.
Thanks, raj.
Well, go.
Okay, reload, try again.
So most city cops carry glocks,
but a walther p99, it has an optional-sized handgrip.
It's good for women, Beth said.
Particularly women living their lives like rats in a lab.
Is that what you think?
Well, what else could it be?
Someone is covering up their illegal experiments by wiping us out.
Well, whatever it is,
I need to protect my family. So Beth taught me how to shoot.
For that I'm grateful to her.
I'm sorry you lost her.
Uh, but anything you can tell me about her will help.
Well...
I fail to see how someone like you can fill Beth's shoes.
Truth is I barely knew Beth.
She was all business but I admired her,
she didn't cry, she was discreet,
she didn't bring her foster brother to my house.
I didn't know the rules of clone club, did I?
Can you not use the c-word?
Please?
Shit.
Alison: Stop here. I'll walk the rest.
So my bottom line
is my children can't know their mother is a freak.
Things have to stay on a need-to-know basis.
- Yeah, I'm fine with that. - Good.
- So, we made a decision to trust you. - Really?
Sarah, this is my life now, and I'm doing the best I can.
So Beth had, um, a substantial sum, sort of a fund,
she used to buy information we couldn't get officially.
Okay.
We were a cop, a scientist and myself.
The fund was how I could contribute.
- How much? - 75,000.
You could Rob me blind.
But we're hoping you realize you can't run away from this.
So can you con her bank or not?
Good.
Oh, Gemma!
Look, mom, we're cross-dressers.
- No, you are not. - I'm you.
Oh, you're back.
- Felix. - Oscar: Don't go!
Can Felix stay the night, mom?
My work here is done, I'm afraid.
- No! - Stay, Felix.
Adios, dragsters!
- Wow. Okay, so the money belongs to Alison. - Mmm-hmm.
Well, so what're you gonna do now?
Gonna rip off your new sis and abscond with Kira?
She's not my sister and, yeah, that's exactly what we do.
Well...
- Shit. - Hide!
You cannot hide in minimalist furniture!
Shit.
You're not supposed to be here.
Nice.
You were staying at Cody's for a while. I think that's a good idea.
Well, I think you're being a bitch.
I'm the bigger person here, I need a change of clothes.
Uh, I... I've been reinstated, Paul.
- Hey. - Oh.
Well, how do you feel about that?
What? Are you painting by numbers?
I guess I am.
Okay, I'm sorry I'm like this, Paul.
- Uh... - You're not like this, Beth, it's your job.
Yeah, but I'm a cop first, Paul, but... shit.
How would you like it if I start pulling
this schizophrenic hot-and-cold crap on you?
Maybe you should, Paul.
I mean, seriously, where are we going with this?
Sorry.
Gotta go.
Oh, my god! Oh!
She doesn't want to break up with big-dick Paul.
She smells it in her musk. You are stuffed.
Oh, holy shit.
Oh, don't worry, I bet he's wanking already.
Oh, he'd better be.
Paul will so be.
- No, no, no, no. - No.
Eye on the prize, okay. Get the money back from Beth's other partner.
- Get out. - Yeah.
Maybe it's a lady grip walther.
You like your big glock, don't you?
So, um, two sets of tire tracks at the crime scene?
One motorcycle and one car?
Yeah, but there had to be three people there.
So, if the killer's on a motorcycle, then what?
He has an accomplice, drives the Vic to the quarry?
Or the Vic has a driver, doesn't go to police, panics, and half-ass buries the body?
Yeah, the, urn, body dump doesn't match the professional hit.
Exactly.
And I got something else for you, Beth, you're gonna love this.
That was in the sniper's nest.
Yeah.
We got a live one.
Phone calls, leaving clues, messing with us.
Man: Resetting!
Weapons down, please!
Detective Childs.
All right, yeah, suzuki?
Okay, hang on a sec.
Man: All clear!
Okay, thanks.
Patrol's spotted my stolen suzuki down at parkdale.
It's a long shot.
We may as well see if the tires match.
Art: Is this the stolen sport bike?
Yeah, it looks like it.
Well, let's find the super.
My son? My son?
Yeah, I... I know, he's not home,
but, um, the motorcycle, does it belong to a renter?
Upstair? My son no here. No. No.
Thank you.
Thought you were the one supposed to deal
with the non-English speaking majority.
Uh, yeah, my Ukrainian sucks.
Easy access.
Motorcycle clothes.
It's open.
What you got there?
"You formed my inward parts,
- "you knitted me together in my..." - Both: "Mother's womb.
"I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
Bibles, dolls.
This perp's got some deep-seated spiritual problems.
- No. No. - I'm okay. Go!
Go after him! Go!
Shit.
Freeze! Police!
Shit.
Shots fired!
780 bane. Bane and heward. Foot pursuit in progress.
- Art. - Where are you?
Uh, I think he went west, uh, between the two, uh, the row houses.
Uh, I think he went into one of the abandoned buildings here.
Beth!
In Russian accent: Good riddance.
Elizabeth Childs.
I'm not Beth!
Dirty little copy cop.
Who are you?
Not yet. Not Beth.
Art: Beth!
Beth!
Jesus Christ!
Are you okay?
Hey.
I'm fine. I'm fine.
Where'd he go?
Okay. Okay, I got you.
I got you, come on.
All I saw was a hoodie.
He hit me from behind.
And you struggled with him at close quarters?
Yeah, I was almost out, I never saw his face.
Lieutenant.
I almost lost not one but two detectives.
How the hell are you in this without backup, art?
It was a thread, lieutenant.
It was a flimsy lead on a stolen bike.
Well, it sure hit.
- You sure you're all right? - I'm fine.
Just let me take her home.
I never should have told you to go after him.
Of course I'm gonna go after him, art. It's not your fault.
No, no, I should have had your back.
You had mine. I didn't have yours.
Yes, you did. Look, shit happens fast, okay?
Will you please... I'm not gonna let you drive me home like an invalid, okay?
I just need a shower and an early start so we can catch this guy.
- Okay? - Hey.
Your money's all there.
You did have it in the trunk.
Sorry I held it over you.
Guess I owe you one.
No, we're square.
Hey, you're not gonna hug me, are you?
See you in the morning.
Are you sure about this?
Yeah.
Bloody Mrs. S. She's right.
Really?
What kind of mother am I if I snatch my own daughter?
A crap one. I agree.
And if! Rob Alison?
- Run now and never tell my... - Clones?
Oh, god, we do have to find another word for that.
Don't tell them what, Sarah? What happened?
After all this? Really gonna go and just give the money back to bitchface?
Mrs. S gave me one visit.
I need to get it right.
Okay. Well, this has taken years off my life.
Now can you please tell me what in the hell happened to your face?
Detective Childs.
Woman in Russian accent: No, you're not.
Can you tell me what the angry angel looked like?
Cosima: Beth probably shot Maggie chen on purpose.
She never told us anything about this.
Paul: We need to spend some time together.
Figure out what's suddenly going on with us.
Sarah needs your help with her daughter.
You're not my mother.
Woman in Russian accent: It's not about revenge.
Sarah: She was here. She was Beth.
She's gonna get us both busted unless I meet her. Alone.