Anon

1

[hip music plays in boutique]

Did you get lucky last night?

Of course. Did you?

[female voice] I am an open window.

Over infinity.

A whole new world on your wrist.

I am Giguere de Corto.

["This Ecstatic Cult" plays in van]

It's my son.

He hasn't returned my calls.

It's not like him.

You know what happened?

Detected in the Ether an hour ago.

You sure you want to see?

Yes.

I want to.

[staticky rumbling]

[footsteps crunching]

[female voice] Step back... Step ba--

[woman] I know where I left it.

You can see in my record.

I left it in the hotel bathroom.

Show me the maid.

Can't help you.

Well someone else came in.

It didn't just walk out on its own.

Wish I could.

We're leaving.

[door opens, then shuts]

You didn't show her what happened

a minute earlier.

Or what happened four hours later

when she sold the bracelet

to pay rent.

There was just something about that woman

that annoyed the f*** out of me.

At this moment,

my client feared for his life.

Don't do it.

I haven't done anything.

He had a split-second to defend himself.

There was no way to know

he wasn't reaching for a gun.

[lawyer] You can see from the infant's

point of view

my client cooperated fully

with authorities.

[lullaby plays]

[police sirens wail]

It's what he was doing an hour earlier

that concerns me,

and perhaps, a jury.

Your client's judgment was

severely impaired.

Let's discuss a plea agreement.

-Sir, there's...

-I see it.

Charlie, how are the girls?

Still spending money like I got it.

James Cray.

Shot between the eyes.

-An hour ago and change.

-Why is there a block on his record?

Charlie.

When do we know who shot him?

Take a look how it ends.

You're cleared.

[choral music plays]

He enters his apartment.

Five minutes later,

he's checking stock prices.

-That's when it gets interesting.

-Did I say I wasn't interested?

[static crackles]

[heavy breathing]

Sh*t.

Who are you?

He sees what the killer sees.

To hide himself.

The killers hacks

into Cray's Mind's Eye.

- Cray's point of view...

-What are you doing?

...now the killer's point of view.

He's looking at himself.

Before Cray could make sense of it...

Please, don't.

Please.

[gun c*cks, fires]

Who could hack a human being?

It gets better.

As in worse?

Look at the metadata time of death.

Timeline ends at 1810 and 24 seconds.

Jesus.

Not just the identity-theft

to hack the man's eye,

the victim's alone

when he's killed.

Or that's what it looks like.

Shooter has no signature.

No identifying meta trail.

What's the world coming to when

murderers won't tell us who they are?

Makes a change from picking up crazies

we already know are guilty.

We actually got ourselves a whodunit.

Two.

Matches another case.

Baltimore, July, also got his POV hacked,

also by a shooter who wasn't there.

[staticky electronic music plays]

What's happening?

What is this?

They thought it was an anomaly,

but now they want to reopen the case.

Last visitor

was of the female persuasion.

-The woman's ID?

-Scrubbed.

By the by, this doesn't get out.

Let the press gossip.

Officially, it's a suicide.

Charlie, this morning downtown...

I saw a ghost.

Face without a name?

Girl was a blank slate,

no digital footprint.

Thought maybe it was a glitch,

ran her again, nothing.

Another cipher.

Seeing too many.

Or not seeing.

-Send her to me.

-You got it.

You with me, Sal?

Yeah, of course we are.

[static garbles]

Damn.

Oh, Jesus.

I'm out of here.

What were you watching?

Show me what you were watching right now

or you're never going to see me again.

Show me, Sal.

I can't.

No.

I really can't.

[gun fires, c*cks]

[choral music plays]

So what are we looking at, Lester?

We analyzed the victim's record.

A week ago, an edit.

Technically, it's a duplication.

This footage has been rock and rolled.

To stretch it...

and if you analyze it carefully...

we'll see he spends too long on

several pages in the book.

Other anomalies with this footage...

you compare stock activity

in his Mind's Eye

with what actually happened to the market

on the day.

It's been elongated too, but...

unless you're looking for it,

you would never see it.

This is very good, so...

meticulous f***ing work.

But it all masked deleted activity.

Illegal activity that the SEC missed.

A day later, he's cleared

of an insider trading charge.

Then there's this.

[doorbell chimes faintly]

It's kind of hard to hear with the music

playing in his head, but...

that.

[doorbell chimes more clearly]

-That's a doorbell.

-Cray had a mystery guest.

They covered their tracks,

no evidence of the meeting.

There was nothing

in the victim's background

to suggest he had the ability

to launder his own record, so...

Hacker for hire.

Jordan Nees, has edits too.

Music producer with a history

of heroin addiction.

Had his latest relapse scrubbed.

So he wouldn't lose his job.

This is a nightmare.

The hypothetical... isn't.

Not only can they get into the house,

they're moving the furniture around.

Charlie, you know that girl I saw

yesterday on South William.

She matches the description of the last

person to see Nees alive.

Last night, she got deleted

from my history.

Thought it might be something in

the Ether, but nothing else is missing.

Now, I'm thinking that someone got

into my life record and erased her.

Send her back to me.

I was going to ask you the same thing.

Mine's gone.

[growling, snarling]

-[growling, snarling continue]

-gunshots]

The moment I saw her...

now just a black hole.

Not just me.

Ten other people in the street that day

now have edits in their record.

The moments they looked at her...

random strangers.

She must have built an algorithm.

Automatically searches for her

and erases any trace it finds.

Blacks her out and leaves a gap.

None of the people in the street

significant enough in their life

to warrant a proper cover-up.

And anyone who is significant

has a nasty habit of dying.

Hard to erase their memories

without erasing them.

Handful of people smart enough

to do this.

Generally too smart

to go on a killing spree.

Unless the gifted mind is a sick one.

They do a surveillance search?

With what? We don't have a face anymore.

F***.

We don't have a name, a face...

no idea where she is.

Yeah.

We got exactly nothing.

Hungry?

I'm good.

[female voice] You have arrived.

Hey.

Hi, Sal.

-It's late.

-I know.

Tomorrow's his birthday.

You think I don't know that?

Ten.

Please stop. He's gone.

He would have been ten.

You got to stop doing this,

to yourself and to me.

Doing what?

I'm keeping his memory alive.

What's wrong with that?

The memory's not going anywhere.

By the looks of it, neither are you.

Sal.

Does he have to be on the call

every time we talk?

Conrad, I'm not going to keep her long,

it's just..

I know...

but you can't keep calling all hours.

She's not your wife anymore.

It's his f***ing birthday.

Kristen.

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