True Detective Season 3 Ep. 5 Recap: If You Have Ghosts'

Photo: Warrick Page/HBO

Now in the back half of what's so far been a solid season, True Detective sets things in motion for its final trio of episodes with "If You Have Ghosts."

And if the previous hours haven't underlined this enough, Wayne Hays has ghosts aplenty. One of the most haunting is the outcome of the standoff between Brett Woodard and the vigilante rednecks in 1980. Woodard has booby traps and bullets to spare, picking off his harassers and a few officers as Wayne and Roland fight their way through the chaotic scene. Wayne corners Woodard, who reveals he had in his sights but spared him. Woodard's reason for not pulling the trigger is less about benevolence and more about forcing Wayne to be his executioner; he gives him the choice of killing him by the count of three or being hit with a "full burst" of bullets. Wayne chooses the former, an act that is no less easy to shake than his time in Vietnam. "Motherfucker made me carry his water," he says to Alan Jones, the attorney now representing Woodard's children. "Like I need more of them memories."

"If You Have Ghosts" mostly focuses on the 1990 reopening of the case. Unfortunately, it appears the same toxic mix of fragile ego and political posturing that marred the original investigation is striking again. What else could explain Tom Purcell walking into the police station and saying he was told to make a statement at a press conference, despite Roland's plan to keep the case away from him and out of the public eye? Or Jones' decision to upstage his old boss, prosecutor Gerald Kent, at the said press conference? Even Wayne's assertion Will Purcell's backpack--virtually spotless despite being found among the debris at Woodard's home--was likely planted in order to frame Woodard, is met with derision by Roland, out of for fear it would rub their superiors the wrong way. "It's ain't bullshit to the man," Roland snaps when Wayne balks at the idea of toeing the line." "You ever learn that you wouldn't have been on a desk for the last ten years."

Wayne's unwillingness to play the game is part of what makes him a good detective. However, that same hard-headed attitude can be a negative, as he undermines Roland--brushing off his advice to not limit their questioning to working girls and runaways, flashing the surveillance picture of Julie in front of Tom like a carrot in front of a starving rabbit--more than once. It can also make him callous; after interviewing a now grown up Freddy Burns--who has not forgotten being called a 'shit heel twerp" and threatened with the horrors of prison rape--he practically sulks in the car when he and Roland leave, deeming Freddy and the rest of his generation pussies.

A breakthrough seems to come in the case when state police hotline takes a call from a young woman who more than likely is Julie Purcell. But as she starts talking, telling the man who says he's her father to leave her alone, it's obvious Julie is either suffering from Stockholm syndrome, on drugs, or both. Whoever's set up shop in Julie's head all these years won't be too keen on letting her go.

Wayne and Amelia's marriage is still on the rocks, the two nearly getting into another argument during dinner with Roland and his girlfriend Laurie before continuing their sparring at home. Wayne calls her a tourist, one who uses him and everyone else involved to lift herself up, while she counters he was perfectly content with her writing as long as she took care of the kids and provided him a home to brood in. Neither is entirely wrong or right. Wayne is using the Purcell as a buffer against having to deal with the rest of his life; however his drive isn't fueled by a vain need to be a hero or career ambition, but an almost religious zeal for justice. And though she is fascinated by the case, Amelia is not a bored housewife digging for lastest morbid gossip, but a serious writer seeking genuine insight. That Wayne won't recognize her as such, and that Amelia won't turn off her investigative instincts to give him temporary relief from the case, is largely to blame for the state of their marriage.

Wayne criticizing Amelia for being a tourist rings particularly hollow when he finds himself pouring over pages from her book in 2015, her text serving as another source. The retelling of her visit with Lucy Purcell leads him to believe the letter from the kidnapper was in fact written by her, in an attempt to help Tom move on. At least he says as much during his visit with Roland, who is a different man from the confident, social butterfly of his younger years. Laurie is long gone, and save for his dogs, he's essentially a loner, and an angry one at that. He's still pissed at Wayne for a wrong he committed during the '90 investigation. Of course, Wayne can't remember what exactly he did to earn his ire but tries as best he can to apologize, asking Roland if he wants to partner up one last time.

"I could use a laugh," Roland drawls. Our ornery duo is back in full effect.