The narrative prowess of "The Beast in Me" lies in its deft manipulation of doubt, as the unquestionable bloodlust of Nile is juxtaposed with the possibility that he may not be solely responsible for the murders at hand. As we traverse halfway through the season, a nagging suspicion begins to creep in: did he not, in fact, take the life of his wife? Yet, even if Madison did choose the path of self-destruction, it does not exonerate Nile from the heinous act of tying Teddy Fenig to a chair in some dark, ominous basement, nor does it negate his potential for violence. The cunning placement of this development sees us spend the entire episode convinced of Nile's innocence before witnessing him wield his lethal power over Special Agent Brian Abbott.
"Thanatos," the Greek god of nonviolent death and Freud's term for the death drive, serves as a fitting backdrop for Aggie's exploration of the human penchant for flirting with danger. As Aggie narrates her thoughts over Abbott's encounter with a group of suspicious-looking hackers led by Simone, we are treated to a clever paradox: Simone demands a favor that can be cashed in at any time, rather than taking the offered cash or cryptocurrency. This decision complicates matters to an almost sinister degree and raises the question of why Abbott couldn't have simply hired some 17-year-old hacker in need of funds.
The hackers lock Abbott away while they work on the thumb drive, while Nile calls Aggie to inform her of Nina's agreement to cancel Shelley's show. Nina overhears this from the car, her rage palpable. When Aggie thanks Nile, his casual "That's what friends are for" rings ominously in her ears, serving as a chilling reminder of his true nature. It falls to Nina to deliver the bad news to Shelley, and her actions are emblematic of her character: She maintains her loyalty to Aggie even when Shelley suspects her of orchestrating the sudden change and promises to revisit the show once Aggie's book has been released.
Shelley, however, is no fool, and her decade-long marriage to Aggie has given her a keen insight into her ex-wife's motivations. When Aggie drives over to her studio to explain her side, they engage in a classic artist-couple tussle. Aggie, failing to articulate her actions beyond a simplistic "I was supporting us!", and sounding more like Abbott himself, insists that she was trying to protect Shelley from the dangerous Jarvises. She professes her belief that writing the book will uncover the truth behind Teddy Fenig's death. But Shelley is unimpressed. "If anyone killed Teddy, it was you," she says, delivering a blow that will haunt Aggie throughout the episode: "It's easier for you to invent a murder than to look in the mirror."
The scene is one of television's most poignant moments as Aggie's mouth trembles with emotion. If Shelley is right, what does it mean for Aggie's book proposal? More importantly, what does it imply about her handling of her son's death? Shelley's words carry even greater weight when we consider Aggie's interview with Madison's parents, James and Mariah Ingram. Aggie is surprised to receive their lawyer's call agreeing to speak with her and more so when they invite her over for coffee in their elegant Upper West Side townhouse. Their only motive for doing so is Nile's vouch for her. Contrary to Aggie's assumption of a hostile relationship between Nile and the Ingrams, James and Mariah are firmly convinced of Nile's innocence and are offended by the media's attempts to paint him as a villain.
The Ingrams are generous with the details of their late daughter's life, revealing that she was a birder, a hobby she picked up on her therapist's suggestion. Madison struggled with bipolar disorder and was not always compliant with her medication. Mariah's words reveal the complex nature of their relationship, where there is both sensitivity to Madison's struggles and a hint of resentment that she couldn't help herself. James, on the other hand, seems less embittered, but they both agree that Nile brought joy to their daughter and cared for her well-being. They tell Aggie that Nile once saved Madison's life by finding her after a previous suicide attempt and rushing her to the hospital. The Ingrams are convinced that if Madison's body hasn't been found, it's because she didn't want it to be. They hope that Aggie's book will finally clear Nile's name so they can grieve in peace.
The consensus among the FBI is that Madison's death was a suicide, with Erika telling Rick in a clandestine meeting in a dark, wet alleyway that everyone in the FBI has accepted this. Except for Abbott, who meets with Aggie only once on background and is believed by Erika to be trustworthy due to their friendship and her role as his supervisor. Still, Rick instructs her to keep an eye on him "until I tell you otherwise." The power dynamics between them are intriguing to ponder.
Meanwhile, Nile and Martin are focused on securing the one vote they need to get council approval for the second phase of Jarvis Yards' construction. They hire a crisis-management firm called the Montgomery Group, led by Esme Noor, known for almost electing a governor who was "photographed with his cock in a male prostitute's mouth four months before the election," in Martin's delicate wording. Despite Esme and her colleagues suggesting they try to flip a councilman named Lionel Haas, Nile, the center of the universe, has other ideas. He half-listens to the Montgomery presentation before imposing that it is better to get "the shepherd" than "the sheep." He believes Benitez's opposition to the project is "a cry for attention directed at" him rather than a principled stance against slimy billionaires. The Jarvises don't believe in principle; they believe in money. The question we leave this scene with is: Is Nile right that Benitez has a price? But the deeper question is: Why did they hire a team of eight people who charge $3,000 an hour per person just to ignore their advice?
All this happens while Abbott is still locked in a windowless, bathroom-less room waiting for Simone to do her thing. He resigns himself to peeing in a can until she calls him over to say that none of the files he downloaded were Nile's fitness app. But she did find a "heavily encrypted link to a private network" that leads to a live feed of Teddy Fenig, alive (if barely) and tied to a chair in a cellar or torture chamber of some sort. The feed is untraceable, but Simone makes a decrypted link for Abbott to show the Bureau...assuming he's going to do that. All day, Aggie has tried to call Abbott to ask about the computer, but maybe she shouldn't have left messages explicitly detailing her illegal snooping on someone's phone. Abbott finally calls her back...with lies. He tells her that Nile was asleep by 10 p.m. the night of Teddy's disappearance, apologizes for getting her into this mess, and encourages her to let it all go. However, Abbott is outside the MHJ office building, lying in wait for Nile.
This development is so distressing for Aggie that she reaches for a drink. Both Aggie and Abbott succumb to their inner demons: Aggie must confront Shelley's accusation that she would rather invent a murder than face her own shortcomings, while Abbott pursues a thread that knows will lead nowhere but misery. In this case, it leads him to a dark, warehouse-like building, where Nile enters after picking up a discarded pipe. Abbott takes out his gun: "Maybe this is where Teddy is." But upon arriving, Nile finds only Benitez and her chief of staff. He has chosen this drab building to make a point - he's willing to donate the space to the city if Benitez will flip her vote. He appeals to Benitez's ambition, saying that if she wants to prove her mettle and one day become mayor, or even governor, she needs to show the Establishment that she can make big moves. Benitez maintains that her vote is not for sale, but it seems like Nile struck a chord. She leaves without committing one way or the other and, after flipping a table in frustration, Nile calls his father to relate the news. "I'll find another way for her to change her mind," Martin reassures. "You don't take the carrot, you use the stick." The most unsettling thing to say!
As Nile is walking out, Abbott trains his gun on him and instructs him to raise his hands. Nile taunts, "I can tell you where [Madison] is." The statement rattles Abbott enough to let his guard down, which is how Nile gets on top of him and bludgeons his head with the back of Abbott's own gun after strangling him. Abbott's blood spatters all over Nile's face, which looks almost jubilant in the act. It's pretty gruesome stuff that gets even more chilling when Nile goes over to Aggie's in the immediate aftermath. He says he's had a rough day and could use a drink with a friend. Oh, Aggie. You don't even know the half of it.
