Once they’re back in the cabin, The Stewmaker gives Keen a look suggesting peevishness with being thrown off schedule. He takes her photo with a Polaroid, and boy, I bet that company is just thrilled with that sweet product placement. ("Polaroid: Because even when your victims disappear, your memories shouldn’t!"). "I was wrong about you,” a drugged-up Keen slurs, "You’re not perfect." Before The Stewmaker can find out what she means by that—"It’s my flabby body, isn’t it? I’ve been meaning to take a spin class…" -- Reddington sneaks up behind him and disables him with a blow to the head. He subdued the dog with some meat he picked up earlier at a local convenience store. The dog got the better end of the deal.
Reddington’s untied the now completely paralyzed Keen -- "The effects will dissipate soon," he says reassuringly, because I guess he’s a pharmacist now -- before turning his attention to the now-bound, but still-naked Stewmaker. Seriously, throw a towel on the guy at the very least. Instead, Reddington delivers a parable about a farmer who comes home to find that everything that gave meaning to his life is gone, so his despair turns him to a monster. It’s not a bad speech so far as these things go—you can read the thing yourself if you’re so inclined—and it’s probably as much about Reddington as it is The Stewmaker. At any rate, Reddington gives The Stewmaker a shove into the chemical bath in a demise that was far more lighthearted when it happened in Who Framed Roger Rabbit.
Ressler and the rest of the FBI have shown up by now ("Your Federal Bureau of Investigation: We Get There Eventually") and Reddington uses the ensuing hubbub of getting Keen medical attention to pocket one of the Polaroid’s from The Stewmaker’s memory book. It looks like a kid and the photo is dated December 1990. Say, that’s when Reddington dropped off the grid, wasn’t it? So I guess we now know why he was so interested in tracking down The Stewmaker. For someone who’s still alive, Keen seems awfully indignant about the whole pushing-a-man-to-his-gruesome-death thing. "How can you live with that?" she asks. "By saving your life," he says. These two.
Let’s end things with one last look at the Keens: Portrait of Marriage Built on Trust. Tom Kean has decided that the perfect antidote for his wife nearly getting blown up, then abducted, then tortured, and then almost killed is a weekend getaway at that same Boston locale that brought them so much happiness on June 23, 2012. ("Sorry to hear about your near-death experience. Now, who’s up for a spa weekend, girlfriend?") Just one problem with that seemingly romantic notion—the name of the hotel where they’re staying is the ANGEL STATION HOTEL. The romantic weekend getaway is calling from within the house!