Seacouver Street. John and Frank ramble down the street, discussing Frank's personal life. Apparently, he's got marital problems. The pair passes by a store window with a large jar of jellybeans. Doe asks, "Have your kids ever been to Hawaii?" They are offering a free trip to Hawaii to anyone who can guess the correct amount of jellybeans in the jar. Frank doubts that his kids would want to go with him to Hawaii -- especially because he's been living at the "Super 8 Motel" for the past little while. John explains exactly how many jellybeans are in the jar. Frank crosses his arms. I nod off to sleep for a bit, because this has absolutely nothing to do with the case at hand.
Maple Valley. Elizabeth's cousin Vanessa walks out of her house holding a tiny dog. She says, "I guess I always held out hope that Elizabeth was still alive." They walk to the front end of the deck, where John lays down a water dish for the pet. "Must sound ridiculous after all these years." John insists, "Not at all. Sometimes hope is all we have." Frank gets down to business. He asks after Elizabeth's employment with Prescott. A City Of Vancouver bus heads down the road underneath her apartment. Vanessa says, "I've been around the block too many times to mince words, Detective." Pause. "My cousin was having an affair with the man. She knew it was wrong but love is love." Wow. I didn't think you could fit that many platitudes in one thirty-second speech. "I couldn't stop that." Wait. There's another one. John asks if she has any idea where Prescott is today. "Dead, I hope." She looks off into the distance. Another City Of Vancouver bus goes by. "My pastor is always preaching about forgiveness." Frank says, "It's all right. I think this qualifies as one of those things." Which means what, exactly? What "thing"? Who knows? Frank talks in such strange patterns, it would probably take me about a hundred episodes before I could interpret them correctly. Yet another City Of Vancouver bus goes by in the distance. "Rumour was when the police started looking into Elizabeth's disappearance, he went underground. Maybe fled the country." Doe dives right in with his usual sense of social grace: "How can you be sure Prescott killed her? I mean, did you know him?" Obviously she didn't know Prescott or she would have made some sort of comment about how Doe looks exactly like him. I mean, if a stroke-ridden octogenarian can recognize the similarities, a spritely-minded sixty-year-old would absolutely have noticed that the two are the spitting images of one another. No. She didn't know him, but she knows "in her bones" that he killed her cousin. Then she says, "As soon as he found out about the baby." Frank cocks his head forward like a rooster intent on a fight upon hearing this little tidbit. "What baby?" The pieces start to fall into place. She says, "Their baby. Their son." Doe replies, "Their son? What happened to him? I need to know." Well, she was afraid of what Prescott would do if he found out, so she put him up for adoption. She needed to protect him. Frank follows Vanessa back into the house as she carries her puppy over the threshold into the main room. He wants to know about the adoption. If they could prove Elizabeth and Prescott had a son, they could prove motive. Vanessa says the records have been sealed forever. John snaps, "We have to find the records. Now!" Frank apologizes for John's rudeness by explaining that he's a rookie who is still in training. Vanessa picks up a dusty folder and explains that all she has are some old photos. John grabs one and stares at it, intensely screaming, "Is this me? IS THIS ME?" on the inside.
John Doe HQ. Picture in hand, he comes into his apartment, where Karen has decorated all of the walls with eyeballs. Yes. You heard me. Eyeballs. Large ones, small ones -- all different sizes, because giant eyeballs are just the calming influence a man with amnesia needs when he gets home after a long day of being a genius that solves crimes even though he's not a detective. Karen thought the eyeballs would be a "kicking logo" for their business. He smiles and says, "As little as I know about my own taste, I know I don't like this." Karen rambles on about the weirdness meaning something, and it's that particular search for meaning that keeps her sticking around. They bond. I yawn. John goes into his Special Room and puts the photo in a scanner. Karen asks if it's their first official "clue or something." Then she asks if this means they're off the time travel "trip." Doe starts clicking away at the computer, explaining that his current theory -- he's the illegitimate son of Prescott and Elizabeth -- actually makes sense. Karen says, "That would explain the family resemblance." Then she adds, "Ew. Dear old Dad's a murderer." Karen and John discuss adoption. She was also adopted. Her take: she's glad she doesn't know her birth parents, because they might be "sickos." John's take: 175,324 children were put up for adoption in 1968, and 59 percent of them were male; what if he was one of them? Doe pauses for a minute. Then he says, "I have to talk to Vanessa." Karen: "I thought you just did?" Doe: "No. Without Hayes, about me, about Elizabeth. Maybe she can unlock my memory, and answer all of this." He touches the baby image on the screen. Karen asks if he's okay. Because ten minutes can't go by without her a) being weirded out about something or b) asking Doe if he's okay. Because you know, this could all just be some "heinous co-inky-dink." Yes. Those were her actual words.