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Previously, on Elementary...

 

This belongs to Jonathan Bloom.

 

He was here
two nights ago.

 

You like young woman
who do what you want

 

in exchange for a fix
women who,

 

on one or two occasions, have
just... never been seen again.

 

People don't make plans
just to break them.

 

People don't; my father does.

 

Dad never shows.

 

Well, you didn't
fall last night,

 

so now I just have
to give you a little push.

 

It's good stuff.

 

It's been three days--

 

I thought
you might be ready to talk.

 

Your father called.

 

He found out
about what happened.

 

He's gonna be here tomorrow.

 

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The Past Is Parent
Original Air Date on November 5, 2014

 

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ÇØ°áÇÏ·¯ ¿Ô´Ù

 

Previously, on Elementary...

 

This belongs to Jonathan Bloom.

 

He was here
two nights ago.

 

You like young woman
who do what you want

 

in exchange for a fix,
women who,

 

on one or two occasions, have
just... never been seen again.

 

People don't make plans
just to break them.

 

People don't; my father does.

 

Dad never shows.

 

Well, you didn't
fall last night,

 

so now I just have
to give you a little push.

 

It's good stuff.

 

(grunting)

 

(Holmes kicking, grunting)

 

(gasping)

 

WATSON:
It's been three days--

 

I thought
you might be ready to talk.

 

Your father called.

 

He found out
about what happened.

 

He's gonna be here tomorrow.

 

¢Ü ¢Ü

 

(phone ringing)

 

Whose phone is that?

 

Mine.

 

Sorry. Forgot.

 

Is this seriously
all we're going to do today?

 

Do you have
something better to do?

 

No.

 

But usually when you call us,
we have fun.

 

This is not fun.

 

Well, it could be worse.

 

It could be 1927,

 

and your name
could be Ruth Bixby,

 

yours could be May Smith.

 

One of them let a killer

 

into this very apartment.

 

He was never identified.

 

So...

 

what, this is
gonna help you catch him?

 

Well, he's almost
certainly long dead.

 

Recreating this crime scene

 

might help me
ratchet in on one...

 

of several suspects.

 

Justice is like an orgasm--
it can never come too late.

 

Don't you get enough
of this at work?

 

My relationship
with the department

 

is complicated at the moment.

 

Complicated how?

 

Well, several days ago,
I used heroin,

 

and that was after I beat
a former acquaintance

 

nearly to death.

 

What happened?

 

He upset me,
so I fractured his skull.

 

Repeatedly.
Broke several of his ribs,

 

lacerated his spleen.

 

The district attorney

 

is, at this very moment,

 

deciding whether or not
I should be charged

 

with felonious... assault.

 

If I am, good chance
I'll be sent to prison.

 

So... if you don't mind,

 

I'd really like
to complete this experiment

 

while I still can.

 

(phone buzzing)
Okay.

 

WATSON:
Sherlock, it's me again.

 

Your father is gonna be here
any second.

 

You said you'd be here.

 

Call me back.

 

(doorbell rings)

 

Hey.

 

Morning.
I was in the neighborhood.

 

That's so sweet.

 

Please, come in.

 

Is, uh, Holmes here?

 

(Watson sighs)

 

No. He got up early
this morning

 

to work on a project,
but he'll be back soon.

 

Kind of figured
you'd be with him...

 

all the time right now.
Well,

 

I'm not his sober companion
anymore, so if he's gonna

 

stay clean, he has to want to do
the work himself-- he gets that.

 

You two finally talked?

 

(sighs):
Last night.

 

It was good. I mean...

 

he's disappointed
and embarrassed.

 

But he's not the same person he was
when he got sober the first time.

 

He believes in the program;
he knows it can help him.

 

He's been going to meetings?

 

Every day.

 

You know, when
it happened,

 

uh, when he finally called us
to tell us where he was,

 

and it's where Oscar Rankin
and his sister were,

 

I'd never seen him so rough.

 

He, uh...

 

he said he'd come see me,

 

we'd talk about it.

 

He will,
when he's ready.

 

Have you heard anything
from the DA?

 

I put in a good word
with all the right people,

 

told them about all the good
that Sherlock's done,

 

but, uh, the department's
had a rough year.

 

There's a perception out there
that we go too easy on our own.

 

If the city wanted
to make an example,

 

he's a perfect
candidate.

 

He works with the police,
but he isn't police.

 

The DA could come down
as hard as he wants on him,

 

not worry about the PBA
making a fuss.

 

(door opens)

 

(door closes)

 

Watson...

 

a thousand apologies.

 

I just received your
many voice mails.

 

I am, of course,

 

tumescent with questions about
your meeting with my father.

 

So was he everything
you'd imagined?

 

Was he driven here,
or did he arrive

 

in a plume of black smoke?

 

He didn't show up, did he?

 

What is wrong with him?
Why would he tell people

 

he's gonna be someplace
and then not show up?

 

He doesn't tell ¡°people,¡±
Watson, he tells me.

 

You're angry.
Don't be angry.

 

The longer he forgets I exist,
the longer we keep our home.

 

You really think he's gonna come

 

all the way to New York
just to kick us out?

 

You recall his terms
with regards to the brownstone.

 

If I use, I end up
on the streets. I used.

 

(sighs)

 

Has the captain been here?

 

Or have you taken
to wearing his cologne?

 

Yeah, he brought us some food.
He said he wanted

 

to let you know
he was thinking about you.

 

Hmm.

 

So, how was your day?

 

It was productive.

 

Went to a meeting,
then another.

 

Saw some old friends.

 

I also heard
from Alfredo.

 

And?

 

His recuperation

 

is going well--
he says he'll be back

 

from his sister's next week.

 

And he doesn't seem to hold
the Oscar business against me,

 

which I think's quite sporting.

 

I also
narrowed down

 

the number of prisons
I might be sent to

 

if the DA convicts me
of felonious assault.

 

Each one of them,
I'm happy to report,

 

has a recovery program,

 

so I shan't want for meetings.

 

Oscar Rankin kidnapped Alfredo,

 

and he tortured you.
Mm, not physically.

 

It doesn't matter--
you're not going to prison.

 

A week ago, you'd have said
I'd never relapse.

 

No, I wouldn't.

 

I'm due for another meeting.

 

¢Ü ¢Ü

 

Mr. Holmes.

 

Mr. Bloom.

 

I know approaching

 

someone like you on his way
into a meeting is...

 

bad form, but...

 

hey, so is beating up on a man
with his arm in a sling,

 

wouldn't you say?

 

How'd you find me?

 

Lawyers. Lots of 'em.

 

I have a virtual army
on retainer.

 

But you already
knew that.

 

Well, you've successfully
disappeared three women

 

since 2010,
including your own wife,

 

so if I were you, I'd have
an army of lawyers, too.

 

You kicked up a lot of dust
for me last week,

 

finding that girl who overdosed,

 

telling the police
the drugs came from me.

 

I'm the tabloids'
darling again.

 

The talk

 

of every news station.

 

DA's just itchin'
to charge me with something.

 

But you know how that feels,
am I right?

 

Yeah. Uh, what do you want?

 

To hire you.

 

I hear you're
quite the detective.

 

Unfortunately,
I've got a ¡°no sadist¡± policy.

 

You're right.

 

I can be connected to the
three women who went missing.

 

My wife Alicia
in 2010,

 

and then two girls I...

 

partied with...

 

one in 2012,
another a year later.

 

They all disappeared,
just like you said.

 

Yeah. I am quite familiar
with your crimes, Mr. Bloom.

 

I killed the two girls.

 

I didn't mean to, of course.

 

They just couldn't take
the rough stuff.

 

Addicts.

 

I buried the bodies

 

at a property my father
once owned in New Rochelle--

 

2434 Owen Place.

 

Why are you telling me?

 

Because I didn't kill my wife.

 

Either someone else did,
or...

 

she left me that night
and never looked back.

 

Whatever the case, it hurt me,
the things people said.

 

I was good to Alicia.

 

She had nothing.
She came from nothing.

 

I gave her the world.
I deserved better.

 

I want people

 

to know the truth.

 

Do you mean to compel me
to work for you?

 

No. This isn't for you.

 

(gunshot echoes)

 

¢Ü Elementary 4x01 ¢Ü
The Past Is Parent
Original Air Date on November 5, 2014

 

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

 

¢Ü ¢Ü

 

Then he looked at me
like he didn't have

 

a care in the world,
and then...

 

put a gun under his chin.

 

Is that it?

 

Did he say
anything else?

 

No.

 

Sorry you had to see that.

 

It's hard to put much stock
in anything

 

a guy like Jonathan
Bloom had to say,

 

but obviously, we'll talk
to the New Rochelle PD,

 

get someone out to that property
he told you about.

 

You doing okay?

 

Is the captain here?

 

Captain.

 

Sherlock.

 

(sighs):
I was, uh...

 

waiting for you to finish up
with Marcus. Come in.

 

Have a seat.

 

Heard you stopped
by the brownstone earlier on.

 

That's, uh, very kind.
Ah.

 

Well, you were on my mind.
Yeah.

 

Of course I was.

 

Several days ago,
I nearly killed a man,

 

and I injected myself
with a controlled substance.

 

Me.

 

Your consultant.

 

Sherlock...

 

My behavior was inexcusable,
and, uh...

 

I do apologize.
You're acting

 

like you did something.

 

Something was done to you.

 

No, I chose to use heroin.

 

That was my choice.

 

Anyway, I'm far from ruined.

 

I recovered myself once before,
and I'll do so again.

 

But if there

 

is some difficult news
that you've been putting off

 

telling me,
th-there's really no need.

 

Well, I know, anyway.

 

You know what?

 

That whether or not
the district attorney charges me

 

with a crime,

 

my consultancy with the NYPD
has come to an end.

 

Just tell me I didn't drag
Watson down with me.

 

I can't.

 

Captain...
It's done.

 

The Chief of Detectives
is from the old school.

 

He never liked the idea
of consultants.

 

What happened,

 

it just made it easier for him
to cut ties.

 

Everything you've
been through this week,

 

everything
you're going through,

 

I-I...

 

I was just waiting
for the right time to tell you.

 

To tell both
of you.

 

You know
how much she has to contribute.

 

When I left for London,
she thrived here.

 

It's out of my hands.

 

I'm sorry.

 

(various overlapping voices
from various broadcasts)

 

(overlapping voices
continue in distance)

 

MALE REPORTER: ...the location
was a body with a...

 

ANCHORWOMAN: ...early this morning,
as police recovered two female bodies

 

from the backyard
of his suburban home.

 

Authorities remain tight-lipped
about the identity

 

of the two women, but we've
learned both are considered

 

victims of Jonathan Bloom...

 

He was telling the truth.
What?

 

ANCHORWOMAN: ...his wife,
Alicia Garcia-Bloom...

 

(mutes overlapping broadcasts)

 

Bloom. The bodies
of the two women

 

were exactly where he said
they would be.

 

The police have yet to confirm
their identities, but I assume

 

that's only
a matter of time.

 

Is this what I think it is?

 

If you think it is
my personal collection

 

of materials relating
to the disappearance

 

of Bloom's wife,
Alicia Garcia-Bloom,

 

in 2010, then... yep.

 

No. I mean are you
seriously doing what he asked?

 

Are you trying
to clear his name?

 

If by ¡°you,¡± you mean ¡°we,¡±
then, yeah.

 

Two bodies. Right where
he said they'd be.

 

Jonathan Bloom was a narcissist
and a pathological liar.

 

Maybe he only told you where
to find them because he wanted

 

people to do what you're doing
right now: question

 

his involvement in the one
murder he cared about, Alicia's.

 

There was never any physical evidence
connecting him to her disappearance.

 

Everyone knew their
marriage was on the rocks.

 

He was cheating on her.
She found out.

 

Mmm. That doesn't make him
a killer.

 

He couldn't account for one
of his guns, a .22-caliber.

 

And, less than a week
before Alicia went missing,

 

he used his home computer
to search

 

for ways to dispose of a body.

 

He insisted that wasn't him.

 

If memory serves,
he also insisted he didn't kill

 

two heroin addicts that he lured
into his apartment, right up

 

until last night.
A complicated man, to be sure.

 

Uh, I'm confused.
Do you want him to be innocent?

 

What is that?

 

It's an article
on the disappearance

 

of a woman named
Maribel Fonseca.

 

She went missing
from a motel in Sussex,

 

New Jersey, the same week
Alicia vanished.

 

Bloom left an impression on me
last night.

 

Not to mention some gray matter.

 

And so, in addition
to revisiting my files,

 

I considered the possibility
that Alicia fell prey,

 

not to someone who knew her,
but to a criminal

 

with an appetite
more serial in nature.

 

Like Alicia,
Maribel was originally

 

from Honduras.
She's attractive.

 

She's in her early 30's.

 

Well, I could see how they
might've been someone's type.

 

You know, we didn't even talk
about what you saw last night.

 

I called you from the station.

 

Well, we haven't talked.

 

A bad man let his brains out

 

for some fresh air.

 

What else is there to discuss?

 

WATSON: (sighs)
Did you see the captain?

 

Just missed each other,
apparently.

 

You and I both know that,
depending on the DA's mood,

 

this may well be
my last investigation

 

for quite some time.

 

So what do you say?

 

Hmm? For old times' sake?

 

MAN:
Whatever happened

 

to Ms. Fonseca, there's no way
of telling when it happened.

 

Not exactly.
What do you mean?

 

She checked in
on a Monday.

 

Said that she would check out
on Thursday.

 

Only Thursday came and she was
a no-show at the front desk.

 

So I went to her room.
I saw that she had left

 

her stuff there.
I figured she changed her mind,

 

so I left her a message
on her room phone,

 

said it was fine, just let me
know the new departure date.

 

Couple days go by.
No sign of her.

 

That's when I called
the cops.

 

According to the newspaper
article, no signs of foul play.

 

No. Just her stuff.

 

The cops poked around
a little.

 

Told me to hold on to her bags,
in case she came back.

 

That was five years ago.

 

So, any idea what she
was doing in Sussex?

 

When I called the police
a few weeks later,

 

they said she was up
from Florida.

 

Said she had no family,
worked as a housekeep.

 

That's all I know, 'cause
that's all they ever found out.

 

(phone ringing)

 

Hello?

 

(over phone):
Ms. Watson, this is Mr. Cook.

 

I work with Mr. Holmes.

 

I'm sorry, do you mean
my Mr. Holmes or...

 

The Mr. Holmes. I understand
you left quite a few messages

 

for him at the New York office
yesterday.

 

His son and I were expecting
him. He never showed up.

 

I'm afraid something came up.

 

But you will be pleased to know

 

you may be seeing him
as early as next week.

 

What-what do you mean
we may be seeing him?

 

I mean the chances
are very good. Cheers.

 

(hangs up)
Wait a second. I... (groans)

 

Who was that?

 

No one.

 

So, four changes

 

of clothing for what she told
the motel manager

 

was a four-day trip,
some credit card receipts,

 

and a few
family photos.

 

I'm beginning to understand
why the Sussex PD didn't take

 

any of these
things with them.

 

Look, I get why
you'd want there to be

 

a connection
between this woman

 

and Alicia
Garcia-Bloom.

 

It's a distraction
from everything

 

that's going on with the DA.

 

If I wanted
a distraction, Watson,

 

I'd pay another visit
to Athena and Minerva,

 

and thrust myself into work
more aerobic than crime scene

 

reconstruction.
I'm just saying.

 

I don't want there to be
a connection

 

between Alicia and Maribel.
I have one.

 

Puberty is still running

 

its transformative
course,

 

but surely you can see that this

 

is a young Maribel Fonseca.
I'd put her age

 

at about 15.

 

This other girl,

 

it's Alicia.

 

They knew each other.

 

Mr. Cook.

 

I'm Joan Watson.
You called me yesterday.

 

How did you know where I lived?
I'm here

 

because I want you to give
a message to Mr. Holmes.

 

He has a secretary.
Several of them, actually.

 

You're the one who called me.

 

Very well.
What's your message?

 

He can come and visit his son
or he can stay away.

 

What he can't do is threaten
to come and then never show.

 

Mr. Holmes

 

is an extremely busy man.

 

I'm busy, too. So is Sherlock.
Tell him.

 

Can a heroin addict be busy?

 

I'm just curious.

 

I imagine procuring the drug
might take some effort,

 

but, after
that, it's a...

 

simple matter of aim and shoot,
is it not?

 

What's the hardest
you've ever been hit?

 

Excuse me?

 

It's a simple question.

 

Talk to Mr. Holmes.

 

Tell him what I said.

 

I'd hate to have to come back.

 

(speaking Spanish)

 

WOMAN: Gracias.
HOLMES: De nada. Adios.

 

(video call blips off)

 

Who was that?
Alicia Garcia's aunt.

 

She still resides
in the same city that Alicia

 

and Maribel grew up in--
San Pedro Sula, Honduras.

 

She was just telling me
the tragic circumstances

 

by which the two women came
to know each other.

 

In 1995, when both

 

were just 15, their families
and several others

 

paid a coyote to bring them
out of Central America,

 

through Mexico,
and across the American border.

 

Several days into their journey,
however, they were stopped

 

by members of the Mexican
Escarra Cartel.

 

It seems the coyote had pocketed
the tribute he normally paid

 

to traverse Escarra territory

 

and was trying
to sneak the caravan through.

 

The Escarra soldiers escorted
the group into a ditch.

 

Realizing they were about to be
slaughtered, Alicia and Maribel

 

and several others made a break
for a wooded area.

 

The Escarra soldiers
opened fire.

 

When all was said and done,

 

Alicia and Maribel were
the only survivors.

 

Several days later,

 

they escorted the Mexican
authorities back to the site.

 

All that was left was
a smoldering pile of corpses.

 

Obviously,
they did eventually

 

make it to America--
the former through her marriage

 

to Jonathan Bloom, the latter
via green card lottery.

 

But according to Alicia's aunt,
they only stayed in touch

 

for a short while
after the massacre.

 

As they grew older,
they went their separate ways.

 

15 years later,
they both disappeared.

 

Do you think someone
from the Escarra Cartel

 

caught up with them?

 

If the cartel wanted them dead,

 

it would've happened
a long time ago.

 

And as that image attests,

 

cartels are in the habit
of making statements

 

with their killings.

 

If an Escarra
did murder Alicia

 

and Maribel, it seems unlikely
he would've disposed

 

of their bodies,
rather than put them on display.

 

(phone chimes)

 

I have to go.

 

An old friend has agreed
to procure Maribel's cell phone

 

and credit card information

 

from the weeks
before she disappeared.

 

I'm hoping
it will provide a clue

 

as to why she went
to New Jersey.

 

What do you mean, an old friend?

 

Why don't you just call
Marcus or the captain?

 

I'd like you to pay a visit
to a Honduran restaurant

 

in New Jersey, by the name
of Novena Vida.

 

Why?

 

There was a receipt
in Maribel's belongings.

 

It indicates she ate there the
week before she disappeared.

 

So, you're hoping
that she talked to someone.

 

Her or Alicia.

 

According to my files,
she dined there

 

the day before Maribel
left Florida.

 

Hard to imagine
that's just a coincidence.

 

You're late.

 

I think what you mean
to say is ¡°Thank you¡±"

 

Thank you, Mr. McNally,

 

for violating the privacy
of an American citizen.

 

A nice beard.

 

Yeah, I'd tell
you what it's for,

 

but then I'd
have to kill you.

 

That makes us even
for London, by the way.

 

By London, you mean
the moment I realized

 

a member
of your agency was about

 

to break into the offices
of a British newspaper.

 

You called me,
let me fix it.

 

I appreciate that.

 

Take care, Holmes.

 

Agent McNally, I'm sure you're
aware of my recent troubles.

 

I-I wanted you to know that...

 

if I don't go to prison,

 

I will be parting ways
with the department.

 

Are you hitting me up
for a job?

 

You know more than most how
effective Watson and I can be.

 

You're hitting me
up for two jobs.

 

I'm doing you the favor
of making you aware

 

of our availability.
Yours would be one

 

of several agencies
that we would consider

 

for future consultations.

 

Aren't you the one
who was just saying

 

how all the NSA does is
violate other peoples rights?

 

Some of the investigative work
you do has merit.

 

Some of it is even important.

 

(sighs)

 

Look, you two are good.

 

I'm not gonna deny that.

 

You really think
any federal agency

 

is gonna want to
get near you now?

 

You nearly killed a guy.

 

Oh, and by the way,
you're a drug addict.

 

Hey, maybe...

 

I mean, maybe somebody'll
throw you some black bag work,

 

but I wouldn't
hold my breath.

 

We're not cat burglars.

 

No, you're liabilities.

 

On the bright side,

 

you have time now.

 

Time to get better.

 

May be just what
the doctor ordered.

 

MAN:
Yeah. Sure.

 

I seen that picture in

 

the news the last
couple of days.

 

She was married
to that guy.

 

The, uh... the one
who killed himself.

 

But you didn't know her?
No.

 

Why?

 

Well, she drove up here
from New York in May, 2010.

 

She had lunch. I thought
maybe she was a regular.

 

No. Sorry.

 

What about this woman,
Maribel Fonseca?

 

She'd have come a couple
of days after Alicia.

 

Do you remember her?

 

Yeah. It's strange.

 

It's like deja vu or something.

 

What do you mean?
I do remember her.

 

She was doing what you're
doing-- showing me pictures.

 

But hers were of a man.

 

She wanted to know if
I had seen him here.

 

She was trying to find him.

 

Did she say why
she wanted to find him?

 

No.

 

She didn't tell you his name?

 

No, but I remember he was
very tall, very handsome.

 

Think I said I had seen him
in the bar once or twice.

 

I just remembered because
it was so strange.

 

A beautiful woman coming here,

 

asking me to look at pictures.

 

Now I wonder if I
should get used to it.

 

WATSON: I brought some food
from Novena Vida.

 

Anything else?

 

Yes. The owner recognized
Maribel Fonseca.

 

He said that she came
into the restaurant

 

in 2010 and showed
him a few pictures

 

of a Latino man in his 30's,
very tall,

 

very handsome.
Did she give the man's name?

 

No. Didn't say what she wanted
with him, either.

 

The odds
are quite good, Watson,

 

that she wanted to kill him.

 

Alicia and Maribel
didn't just know each other.

 

I believe
they were plotting a murder.

 

Combine Maribel Fonseca's
credit card and phone records

 

with Alicia's,
and a certain time line

 

comes into view.
On May the first,

 

Maribel receives a phone call
from Alicia in Florida.

 

Very next day, she's on a plane
bound for Newark.

 

So they weren't as out of touch

 

as Alicia's aunt thought
they were.

 

On May the third, Maribel goes
to the Honduran Restaurant,

 

Novena Vida in New Jersey.
Day after that,

 

she goes to a hardware store,
purchases the following items.

 

A tarp, two pairs
of rubber gloves, two shovels,

 

and several gallons

 

of industrial-strength
drain cleaner

 

consisting chiefly of lye.

 

It's a good shopping list if
you're planning to kill someone.

 

All of this less than one week
after Alicia goes

 

to the same restaurant,

 

and someone
in the Bloom household

 

searches the phrase,
¡°Ways to dispose of a body.¡±

 

The police thought
that was Jonathan Bloom.

 

You're saying it was Alicia.

 

If I'm right, she's also
the most likely reason

 

his .22 was never discovered.

 

It was her contribution
to the murder plot.

 

Whoever she and Maribel
were looking for--

 

I submit they found him.

 

Only something went wrong.

 

He got the upper hand,
killed them,

 

and then got rid
of their bodies.

 

It would fit the evidence.

 

Perhaps if the media
had not seized

 

so immediately
and so viciously on Bloom

 

as the architect
of his wife's disappearance,

 

the connection
would have been made

 

between the women much sooner.

 

Yeah. Gee, poor guy.

 

I mourn not for him,
but for the missed opportunity.

 

This case may never have grown
so cold.

 

So, does any of this tell us

 

who Alicia and Maribel
were looking to kill?

 

No.

 

But the owner
of Novena Vida said

 

they were looking
for a Latino man.

 

The two women were bound

 

by their family slaughter

 

at the hands
of the Escarra cartel.

 

Yesterday, you posited that an
Escarra came looking for them.

 

Perhaps they went looking
for an Escarra.

 

(lock buzzes)

 

Stop it.
Stop what?

 

Imagining me on a line like
that, coming to see you.

 

Truthfully, I'd rather you not
visit me in prison.

 

Why?

 

I hate for you to see me
in a place like this.

 

You're not going to prison.

 

If you like,
we can write letters.

 

Not writing you letters.

 

I'll have other correspondence--
C, Moriarty.

 

That's still
going on?

 

Sherlock Holmes,
Joan Watson.

 

You can see him now.

 

I did it.

 

Did what?

 

(scoffs)

 

Whatever we came here
to talk about.

 

You got me.

 

You may recall

 

incarcerated members
of drug cartels

 

often confess to crimes

 

committed by
their compatriots.

 

They receive a level of
protection on the inside;

 

their families, a level
of support on the outside.

 

Unfortunately, we're not here
to accuse you of anything.

 

WATSON:
20 years ago,

 

four Escarra soldiers massacred

 

a group of Honduran immigrants.

 

The only survivors

 

were two young women,

 

Alicia Garcia
and Maribel Fonseca.

 

HOLMES:
In 2010,

 

we believe Alicia
and Maribel

 

came across one of
the men responsible

 

and they planned
to kill him.

 

Before your arrest in 2012,

 

you were a well-connected,

 

New York-based
Escarra lieutenant.

 

So we were hoping
that you might be able

 

to help us identify the man
that they were after.

 

WATSON: He was tall.
Six feet, good-looking.

 

He would have been in his
mid- to late 30's in 2010.

 

And he may have been a regular

 

at a restaurant in New Jersey
called Novena Vida.

 

You're talking about Benicio.

 

Alto, guapo...

 

Had to be him.

 

Does Benicio have
a last name?

 

Del Toro.

 

Benicio Del Toro is an actor.

 

HOLMES:
You should know, Zuniga,

 

that Miss Watson
and I did our homework

 

prior to this visit.

 

We know that your wife

 

and 19-year-old son
reside in Juarez.

 

After I leave
here today,

 

I'm going to wire them $100,000.

 

(chuckles)

 

You can't bribe me, man.

 

You misunderstand.

 

I'm not offering a bribe.

 

I'm issuing a threat.

 

The cartel has been
true to its word.

 

Your family has been
taken care of.

 

I understand your son
is even being groomed

 

for a management position.

 

What would happen if they
suddenly receive $100,000,

 

along with the hearty thanks

 

of a known associate
of the NYPD? Hmm?

 

Are they as loyal to
the Escarras as you?

 

Would they report
that windfall?

 

How might the cartel react?
Would they look to silence you?

 

Your family?
Your family's family?

 

We all know how thorough
the Escarras can be.

 

We should leave.

 

Banks close in an hour.

 

I know the names

 

of the four men who did this.

 

That's all they are now.
Names.

 

Explain.

 

(sighs)

 

After the massacres,

 

la policia waged war on us.

 

We lost many of our soldiers,

 

including the men
that you're asking about.

 

So none of them were
in New Jersey in 2010.

 

They were in the ground
in Mexico.

 

I sold you short, didn't I?

 

I'm going to wire your family
$200,000.

 

You're wrong that the two girls
were the only ones who survived.

 

The coyote, he survived, too.

 

Maybe he's the one
that they saw.

 

WATSON:
You're telling us

 

the cartel killed everyone

 

except for the man
who ripped them off?

 

Eh... a good coyote,
an earner...

 

he's hard to find.

 

Immigrants?

 

They never run out.

 

Give me his name.

 

All I ever heard was a nickname.

 

¡°El Gato.¡±

 

Assuming we can take
Mr. Zuniga at his word,

 

we'll have our work
cut out for us.

 

We need to find the
name of El Gato,

 

a coyote who was active in
San Pedro Sula in the mid-'90s

 

and in the tri-state
area in 2010.

 

He certainly makes
sense as a suspect.

 

If he hadn't kept
the Escarras' money,

 

none of those people
would have died.

 

May as well have put
a gun to their heads.

 

Our only hope is that
the man is as stupid

 

as his street
handle, ¡°The Cat¡±"

 

If he is, he might not be
too difficult to identify.

 

Hmm. You don't happen to know
anyone in law enforcement

 

in San Pedro Sula, do you?
(cell phone rings)

 

I don't, but you know me-- I
make friends expeditiously.

 

Hmm.

 

Hello.

 

Yeah.

 

Yes, indeed.

 

That was my barrister.

 

Just heard from the
district attorney.

 

Seems you will not have to
visit me in prison after all.

 

You're not being charged.

 

Okay, I'm gonna heat up
some celebratory leftovers.

 

And then we're gonna
talk about all the women

 

that you don't have
to write to.

 

(feet descending stairs)

 

Okay, there's something
that you should know.

 

I lied the other night when I
said I hadn't seen the captain.

 

We talked.

 

And I was made
aware of the fact

 

that because of
my transgressions,

 

neither one of us
will be permitted

 

to consult for
the department again.

 

We-We've been sacked.

 

Yeah, um, I, uh...

 

Sorry, Watson.

 

It's okay.

 

Kind of had a feeling.

 

I mean,
we're not cops.

 

What we do and what they do,
it's different.

 

So we don't have
the same restrictions,

 

so we don't have
the same protections.

 

Well, I have a plan.

 

Um, involves
another confession.

 

My reasons for investigating
the disappearance

 

of Alicia Garcia-Bloom were
not entirely selfless.

 

The mystery of
her disappearance

 

has been one of the greatest
of the last 20 years,

 

or so the popular media
would have us believe.

 

Jonathan Bloom's face has been
on the cover of every magazine,

 

he's been the subject
of books, documentaries...

 

Uh, if you think
solving this case

 

is gonna get us back into the
department's good graces...

 

Not us, Watson.

 

You.

 

My fate is sealed.

 

As is appropriate.

 

But you?

 

No, I think there's
still a chance.

 

So when we discover what
happened to Alicia and Maribel,

 

you'll take the credit.

 

Sherlock...

 

Glory will be bestowed upon you,

 

and the NYPD, I predict,
will want to say

 

that they played some
small part,

 

so you will acknowledge them
to whatever degree is required,

 

and then they will forget
that they dismissed you.

 

What about you?

 

As I said, my fate is sealed.

 

But that's not what I meant.

 

Say ¡°Operation: Bestow Glory¡±
actually works.

 

What are you gonna do
while I consult with the police?

 

You know I have my distractions.

 

You really don't get it.

 

I don't get what?

 

When it comes to what we do,

 

the only thing that matters
to me is our partnership,

 

so you go, I go.

 

You offered me a job.

 

I didn't take it
to work with the police.

 

I took it to work with you.

 

Well, you should know
that my detractors

 

are not limited
to the NYPD.

 

My professional prospects
are quite bleak in general.

 

We'll figure it out.

 

We always do.

 

Yeah, you're
right, it is ours.

 

Thanks for
putting it aside.

 

Just out of curiosity,
how did a dead squirrel

 

play into the work
you were doing here?

 

It didn't.

 

Well, not exactly.

 

It's kind of
a long story.

 

Well, if I find any more
of your stuff lying around,

 

I'll call you.

 

Thanks.

 

You know I think the brass
is making a mistake, right?

 

I mean, if there was someone
I thought I could talk to...

 

It's okay.

 

Really.

 

And this isn't good-bye.

 

It's not like we're not
gonna see each other

 

just because we're not
working together.

 

Who knows? Maybe Sherlock
and I will throw a party.

 

(scoffing): Yeah, sure,
that sounds like him.

 

(chuckles)

 

You guys talked about
what you're gonna do next?

 

We're reaching out
to people.

 

We're letting them know
we're available.

 

(elevator bell chimes twice)

 

Something will turn up.

 

Things won't be
the same around here.

 

(Sherlock speaking Spanish)

 

Adios.

 

(sighs)

 

That was a homicide detective
in the city of San Pedro Sula.

 

Most unpleasant fellow.

 

What happened to ¡°making
friends expeditiously¡±?

 

I was attempting
to clear up a discrepancy

 

between our information
regarding El Gato and his.

 

Man took it
as a personal affront.

 

He purports to
be a detective

 

but peddles his
questionable skills

 

in a city with the highest
murder rate in the world.

 

San Pedro Sula averages
nine murders a day,

 

97% of which go unsolved.

 

And I'm sure you didn't
mention that to him.

 

Might have come up.

 

I've been looking
for that.

 

So you said that his facts
and ours don't match up?

 

He confirmed that a coyote
known as El Gato

 

operated out of his city

 

at the time of the Escarra
massacre in Mexico.

 

But while the Policia
Nacional were never able

 

to uncover his real
name or apprehend him,

 

they claim that several
clients described him

 

quite consistently in 1995.

 

Average height, jowly,
receding hairline.

 

Well, the owner at Novena Vida
said that Maribel was looking

 

for a tall, handsome man
in his 30's.

 

If the Hondurans are
to be believed,

 

El Gato would currently
be in his 50's.

 

So we would be wrong
about Alicia and Maribel

 

finding and attempting
to kill him five years ago.

 

You know what ¡°Novena Vida¡±
translates to?

 

You've heard me conduct
several conversations

 

entirely in Spanish.

 

¡°The ninth life.¡±

 

As in ¡°nine lives,¡± as in
the number a cat would have.

 

I don't understand. Why...

 

Wait, this is
my favorite bit. There.

 

This video went viral
in April 2010.

 

Someone tried to rob you,
and you fought back.

 

You beat the man
into submission.

 

One of your employees

 

posted the security
footage online.

 

My cook.

 

He was proud, kept
calling me Rocky.

 

I didn't like it, but it brought
us a little extra business.

 

Well, we think it gained some
negative attention as well.

 

Alicia Garcia-Bloom
saw that video,

 

and she recognized you
as El Gato--

 

the coyote hired
by her parents

 

in San Pedro Sula in 1995.

 

The one who cost
them their lives.

 

What?

 

That's why she came
here in 2010,

 

to see if it was really you.

 

You say I'm from San Pedro Sula?

 

You're right-- 15 years ago.

 

But I told you-- I'd never
even heard of that woman

 

until she was in the news.

 

But you do remember
Maribel Fonseca.

 

You said
you two talked.

 

She showed you
pictures of a man.

 

Another fiction--
she never said a word.

 

And she certainly never
showed you any photographs.

 

More likely, she came here
to size up her prey.

 

The other day, you told me
Maribel was looking

 

for a tall, handsome man.

 

But that was just
to keep us

 

from taking
a closer look at you.

 

If you were attempting to
describe your exact opposite,

 

well done--
you have the face and frame

 

of a distressed catcher's mitt.

 

WATSON: Maribel and Alicia would
not have come after you here.

 

They knew about the security
cameras from the video.

 

More likely, they pounced
at your home.

 

You gained the upper hand,
as you are wont to do.

 

Suddenly, you had
two bodies to get rid of.

 

But your victims brought their
own shovels, tarps and lye.

 

You could have buried them
right there in your yard.

 

Tell us, Mr. Murillo,

 

when the New Jersey police
search your home,

 

will they find two graves?

 

Say they do.

 

It was self-defense,
you said it yourself.

 

I did, I did.

 

You may have killed those women,
you may have been complicit

 

in the deaths of their entire
families, but none of that

 

will guarantee a conviction
in an American court.

 

Emphasis on ¡°American.¡±

 

But did you know that
the U.S. and Honduras have

 

a mutual extradition treaty that
dates back over a hundred years?

 

HOLMES:
Mm-hmm.

 

This is a warrant
for your arrest

 

for the murder of a competing
coyote and his wife

 

in San Pedro Sula,
in 1999.

 

You thought you were
an Internet sensation before.

 

Give it a few hours.

 

WATSON: So what do you
think of New Jersey?

 

Just made some new friends.

 

We told them they could
leave our names out of it.

 

Are you suggesting we become
commuting consulting detectives?

 

Well, it's a big state,
plenty of crime.

 

Could do worse.

 

Well, if travel's
not an issue,

 

San Pedro Sula could
benefit from our presence.

 

You're kidding, right?
(cell phone chimes)

 

You said you had some errands
to run this afternoon, correct?

 

I have one of my own.

 

¢Ü ¢Ü

 

I'd forgotten
about the view here.

 

It's really quite something.

 

Is that what you wanted?

 

To discuss the skyline?

 

I let myself in.
I hope you don't mind.

 

It's your property, Father,
you can do as you please.

 

You don't look well.

 

You look as spry as ever.

 

My compliments to the virgins
whose blood you bathe in.

 

I see the opiates
haven't dulled your wit.

 

Nor has old age
withered yours.

 

I didn't come here
to exchange barbs.

 

Why did you come here?

 

Why do we ever
meet like this?

 

You've made a
mess, Sherlock.

 

I'm here to fix it.

 

¢Ü Drop what I'm doing,
and sit beside you... ¢Ü

 

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man