Over at Stedman's condo, Doggett huffs and puffs, and blows the door down. Or, the super lets them in with his key. You choose. Inside, Stedman is dead, head hacked in, lying on the bed. The door, locked from the inside. As Yul Brynner would say, it's a puzzlement.
Doggett, along with several other muckety-mucks at the Bureau, including Deputy Director "Beverly Hills Beach Club" Kersh, watches a videotape of Tipet preaching to his followers, some yada yada about the body only being made of clay, and if we could all just grid our loins and look into the darkness inside us, we could truly see God. Skinner pauses the tape. Exposition hauls his ass off my sofa, groaning, as Skinner tells all and sundry that Tipet served twelve years for bludgeoning his wife to death (twelve years? For a bludgeoning? Sweet fancy Jesus), and, after getting sprung from the pokey, became a minister, preaching a hybrid of evangelical and Eastern religions. He believes, Skinner tells us, that a higher plane of being can be reached by the "Via Negativa," the path of darkness. Once reached, the path of darkness allows one's spirit to travel unhindered. How to get to this path of darkness? Hallucinogens. Skinner exposits, however, that none of the cult members had drugs in their system when they were killed. "Please let me rest," Exposition pleads. "Dude, if I could, I would," I tell him. "But as long as you're up, can you bring me a beer?" Exposition rolls his eyes and trudges into the kitchen as Kersh bitches that he can't understand how in THE HELL Tipet managed to SLAUGHTER all these PEOPLE. Doggett leans back from the table and comments that Tipet wasn't homicidal, just paranoid. Kersh glares. Exposition runs back into the room, tosses me a beer, and gets back to work, as Doggett continues to explain that whomever kills the cult members and the agents left no clues whatsoever, and, indeed, managed to leave the scenes of the crimes locked up tight -- from the inside. Which, as Kersh spits, is impossible. "Unless Tipet took the drug and succeeded. Unless his consciousness was there, and his body was somewhere else," Skinner full-on Mulders. Kersh looks disgusted with what he terms "the X-File explanation." He wonders how a man on "a higher plane" could possibly see anything godly in killing a mess of people, including two of their own. He sternly tells Doggett to do something about it.
Out in the hallway, Skinner and Doggett have a little lovers' quarrel, as Doggett chews Skinner out for spinning some kind of "science fiction story," without warning him. Skinner tells Doggett to find him some believable answers, then. Doggett slides into the elevator and stares at Skinner. "We find [Tipet] and I just might," he responds. Exposition smiles at me and starts to rub my feet. "I think I'm done for the night," he says. "We'll see about that," I say.