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¼ÕÅé ¹Ø¿¡ ¹üÀÎÀÇ DNA°¡ Àְڳ׿ä?

 

¾Æ¸¶µµ

 

»©³»·Á´Ù ½ÇÆÐÇÏ°í
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±×·¡¼­ º§·¹Á Â°í

 

ÆøźÀ» ½É¾î

 

°°Àº Àå¼Ò¿¡ À¯±âÇß±º¿ä

 

2¹ø° ÇÇÇØÀÚ°¡ ù¹ø° ÇÇÇØÀÚ¿Í

 

°°Àº ¿µ¾È½Ç·Î °¥ ÁÙ ¾Ë¾Ò°ÚÁÒ

 

Æø¹ß·Î ÈѼյǵç, ¿À¿°µÇµç,

 

Áõ°Å°¡ ¾ø¾îÁö°Ô µÅ¿ä

 

¹¹°¡ ³²¾ÆÀÖµç, ÀÎÁ¤µÇÁö ¾Ê°ÚÁÒ

 

¿ì¿¬È÷µµ µü ¸ÂÃè¾î¿ä

 

¿À¸¶ º§·¹Áî´Â ¸·´Ù¸¥ ±æÀ̾úÁö¸¸

 

¿©ÀÚÀÇ Á×À½À» ¹àÈ÷¸é

 

ÆøÆĹüÀ» ã°Ú±º¿ä

 

Á¤È®ÇØ¿ä

 

ÁÁ¾Æ¿ä, ±×·³ ¿©ÀÚ´Â ´©±¸ÁÒ?

 

³­ ¸ô¶ó¿ä. ¾Æ¹«µµ ¸ô¶ó¿ä

 

±×°Ô ¹®Á¦ÁÒ

 

¹«¸í³à¿¹¿ä

 

±×·¡. À̸§Àº ¸ð¸£°í

 

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È­°¡ ³­ »óÅ¿´¾î¿ä

 

´Ù¸®¿Í ¾ûµ¢ÀÌ¿¡ ½ÉÇÑ ¸ÛÀÌ µé¾ú¾î¿ä

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µû¶ó¼­ Á¤È®ÇÑ »ç¸Á½Ã°¢Àº
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¹«¼·³×¿ä. ³´½î Çü»çµéÀÌ

 

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Àúµµ ã¾ÆºÃ¾î¿ä

 

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À̸§Àº '¿ø¼þÀÌ' ÀÚ³ÝÀÌ¿¡¿ä

 

¸Â¾Æ¿ä

 

ã¾Ò¾î¿ä. ¾î¶»°Ô?

 

ÀÀ±Þ½Ç¿¡¼­ ±Ù¹«ÇÒ ¶§
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°æ±âÁß ¸ö½Î¿ò ¶§¹®À̶ó°í ¸»Çß¾î¿ä

 

±× ¾Öµµ ÆÈ¿¡ ¹øÈ£°¡ ÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä

 

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¿¬¼â»ìÀιüÀÇ ¸Þ¼¼Áö°¡ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó

 

¹«¸í³àÀÇ ·Ñ·¯ ´õºñ ¼ýÀÚ¿¹¿ä

 

·Ñ·¯ ´õºñ ¼ýÀÚ°¡ ÀÖ´Ù¸é

 

·Ñ·¯ ´õºñ ÆÀ¿øµéµµ ÀÖ°ÚÁÒ

 

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ÄÚ¸£Å×Áî Çü»ç¿Í ¿©±â¼­
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Àç½ÃÇÕÀ» ÇÏÁø ¾ÊÀ» °Í °°¾Æ¿ä

 

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»ç°Ç¿¡ ³» µµ¿òÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇÏ´Ù°í Çß¾î¿ä

 

¹«½¼ »ç°ÇÀÌÁÒ?

 

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ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ¸¦ ¹üÀÎÀ̶ó°í »ý°¢ÇÏ´õ±º¿ä

 

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¿Ö ´ç½Å µµ¿òÀ»?

 

±Û½ê¿ä. ³»°¡ ÀÏÀ» ÀßÇϴϱî?

 

¿Ö¿ä?

 

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ÀûÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¿¡¿ä. ³­ Àû ¾ø¾î¿ä

 

³­ ´ç½Å°ú ´Þ¶ó¿ä

 

³¯ ±«·ÓÈù´Ù°í »ý°¢ÇÏÁÒ?

 

¿Ó½¼ÀÇ ¼³¸í¿¡ µû¸£¸é

 

ÇÑÀ» Ç°°í ´Ù´Ò ¿©ÀÚ °°Àºµ¥

 

±«·ÓÈûÀÇ ºñÀüÅëÀûÀÎ
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±«·ÓÈ÷´Â ¹æ¹ýÀ̶ó°í¿ä?

 

ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ´Â ¹üÁËÀÚÁö¸¸

 

¾ð´õÄ¿¹ö °æÂûÀ̰ųª

 

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¾î¸Ó, ÀÚ³Ý ¸Â¾Æ¿ä

 

ÀÚ³Ý ÇìÆÛ³Í.
»ìÇصƾî¿ä?

 

3ÀÏÀü¿¡¿ä

 

Àß ¾Ë¾Æ¿ä?

 

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ÆÀ¿¡ µé¾î¿ÂÁö ¾ó¸¶ ¾ÈµÆ¾î¿ä

 

´«¿¡ ¶ç´Â Á¡À̳ª ƯÀÌÇÑ Á¡ÀÌ ÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä?

 

ÀÖ¾úÁÒ?

 

¾ó¸¶Àü¿¡ ¹«¸­ÀÌ µÚƲ·È¾î¿ä

 

ÀÚ³ÝÀÌ ¿Í¼­ ¾ÆÇÁ¸é

 

¿Á½ÃÄÚµòÀ» ÆÈ ¼öµµ ÀÖ´Ù°í Çß¾î¿ä

 

¸¶¾à»óÀ̾ú¾î¿ä?

 

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³­ ±¦Âú´Ù°í ÇßÁö¸¸

 

³×, ¾Æ¸¶µµ

 

ÇìÆ۳;çÀÇ ÁÖ¼Ò¸¦ ¾Ë ¼ö ÀÖÀ»±î¿ä?

 

¸ðµÎÀÇ ÀÇ·á ±â·ÏÀ» ¹Þ¾Æ¿ä

 

¿©±â¼­ ±â´Ù¸®½Ã¸é °¡Á®¿Ã°Ô¿ä

 

°í¸¶¿ö¿ä

 

'»çÀÌŬ·Ð' Á¶¾Ø ¾î¶§¿ä?

 

Joan of Bark?

 

ÀÚ³ÝÀº ÄÄÇ»ÅÍ·Î
À̸ÞÀÏ °èÁ¤¿¡ Á¢¼ÓÇßÁö¸¸

 

ÀÏ ¶§¹®À̾ú´ø °ÍÀ¸·Î º¸¿©¿ä

 

¸Þ¼¼Áö¸¦ º¸°í ÀÖÁö¸¸

 

¿Á½Ã °í°´Àº ¾ø¾î¿ä

 

Joan Cold Killer?

·Ñ·¯ ´õºñ º°¸í ¸¸µé±â´Â ±×¸¸ÇØ¿ä

 

Swat-son.

 

¹¹¿¹¿ä?

 

¸¶´Ã ¼Ò±ÝÅëÀε¥, ¼ö»óÇÏ°Ô
¿åÁ¶ ¹Ø¿¡ ¼û°ÜÁ®ÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä

 

¿À

 

°Å¹°Àº ¾Æ´Ï°í

 

ÇìÆÛ³ÍÀº ¿ÀÈ÷·Á
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±Û½ê¿ä. ¸Þ¼¼Áö ´ëºÎºÐÀÌ

 

ÀûÀº ¾çÀÇ ¹è´Þ ¿äû »ÓÀÌ¿¡¿ä

 

ÀÚ³ÝÀÌ °í°´¿¡°Ô »ìÇØ´çÇßÀ»

 

°¡´É¼ºµµ ÀÖÁö¸¸, ÀÌ°É ºÁ¿ä

 

6ÀÏÀü Åäºñ ´ë³ÍÀÌ º¸³½ ¸Þ¼¼Áö¿¹¿ä

´Ü°ñ°í°´À¸·Î º¸¿©¿ä

 

"µô¶õÀÌ ¾îÁ¬¹ã ³×°¡

 

¿ì¸®Áý ÁÖÂ÷Àå¿¡¼­ ³ª°¡´Â °É ºÃ´ë

 

³×°¡ ¿ÀÁö ¾Ê¾Ò´Ù°í
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³²ÀÚµµ ¿©·µÀ̾ú³×¿ä

 

ÀÌ °èÁ¤Àº µô¶õ¿¡°Ô¼­
¿Â À̸ÞÀÏÀÌ ¾Æ´ÏÁö¸¸

 

ÁúÅõ½É ¸¹Àº ³²ÀÚÄ£±¸ °°¾Æ¿ä

 

Åäºñ ´ë³ÍÀÌ ¹ÌÇàÇÏ´ø ³¯ÀÇ
ÀÏ¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¾ËÁöµµ ¸ô¶ó¿ä

 

´ë³ÍÀÌ ±³»ì½ÃÄѼ­
°³¿ï¿¡ ¹ö¸° »ç¶÷ÀÌ ¾Æ´Ï¶ó¸é

 

Àڳݿ¡°Ô º¸³½ À̸ÞÀÏ¿¡

 

ÁÖ¼Ò°¡ ÀûÇôÀÖ¾ú¾î¿ä

 

ã¾Ò¾î¿ä

 

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¹«½¼ ÀÏÀԴϱî?

 

Àú´Â ¸¶Ä¿½º º§ Çü»çÀÔ´Ï´Ù

 

Åäºñ ´ë³ÍÀ» ¸¸³ª·¯ ¿Ô½À´Ï´Ù

 

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Áú¹®ÇÒ °Ô ¸î°¡Áö À־¿ä

 

¿Ö¿ä? ¹«½¼ ÀÏ·Î?

 

Åäºñ¿Í ¾ê±âÇÏ´Â °Ô
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Áý¿¡ ÀÖ½À´Ï±î?

 

ÀÖ¼Ò. ÇÏÁö¸¸ ¿©±ä ³» ÁýÀÌ°í

 

Åäºñ´Â ³» ¾ÆµéÀÌ¿À.
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¾Ë ±Ç¸®°¡ ÀÖ´Ù°í »ý°¢Çϴµ¥¿ä

 

¾ÆµéÀÇ ¸¶¾à»óÀÌ 3ÀÏÀü »ìÇصÈ

 

»ç½Ç¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¾ê±âÇÏ·¯ ¿Ô½À´Ï´Ù

 

ÀÌÁ¦ µé¾î°¡µµ µÉ±î¿ä?

 

¾î, ³×, ³×, ¸Â¾Æ¿ä

 

Àڳݿ¡°Ô ¿Á½Ã¸¦ »ò¾î¿ä

 

Åäºñ, ¹«½¼ »ý°¢ÀΰųÄ

 

±×·± °É ¸Ô°í ³» ÇöÀå¿¡¼­ Æ®·°À» ¸ô¾Ò¾î?

 

ÅéÀ» ½è¾î?

 

´ë³Í¾¾, Á¦°¡ Áú¹®À» ÇÒ ¼ö ÀÖµµ·Ï

 

ÇØÁÖ½Ã±æ ¿äûÇÕ´Ï´Ù

 

ÀúÈñ¿¡°Ô ½Ã°£À» ÁÖ½ÃÁÒ

 

ÇöÀå±Þ½ÀÀ» ÇÏ·¯ ¿Â °Ç ¾Æ´Ï°í

 

°æÂû¼­·Î ²ø°í°¥ »ý°¢µµ ¾ø¾î¿ä

 

Àڳݿ¡°Ô ÀϾ ÀÏ¿¡
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±³»ì´çÇß¾î¿ä

 

3ÀÏÀü¿¡

 

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ÀÚ³ÝÀÌ º¸³½ À̸ÞÀÏÀ» ºÃ´Âµ¥

 

µô¶õÀ̶ó´Â »ç¶÷ÀÌ ´ç½ÅÀÌ

 

ÀÚ³ÝÀÇ ÁÖÂ÷Àå¿¡¼­ ¶°³ª´Â °É ºÃÀ¸´Ï

 

Á¶½ÉÇ϶ó°í °æ°íÇß´õ±º¿ä

 

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ÀÚ³Ý ¸»·Î´Â

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º¹¿ë, ÆǸÅ,

 

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¿ì¸®°¡ ¹®Á¦¿´¾î¿ä

 

±×¸®°í ÀÚ³ÝÀº

 

ÀܼҸ®¸¦ Áö°Ü¿öÇß°í

 

µÎ »ç¶÷ÀÌ Çì¾îÁø ÀÌÀ¯Áß Çϳª¿´¾î¿ä

 

ÀÌÁ¦ »ç±ÍÁö ¾Ê´Â »çÀÌ¿´³ª¿ä?

 

1´Þ ÀüÂë ½Î¿ì°í Çì¾îÁ³¾î¿ä

 

´ëÆÇ ½Î¿ü¾î¿ä

 

ÀÚ³ÝÀÌ º´¿ø±îÁö °¥ Á¤µµ·Î

 

±×¸®°í ³¡³µÁÒ

 

µô·±À» ¸¸³­ Àû ÀÖ¾î¿ä?

 

µô·±ÀÌ ÀÚ³ÝÀ» Á׿´À»
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³ªÇÑÅ× ÁÙ °Ô Àִٸ鼭¿ä?

 

ÁøÂ¥ ¿ë°ÇÀÌ ¹¹ÁÒ?

 

ÁøÂ¥ ¿ë°ÇÀ̶ó´¢?

 

ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ Ã£´Â ÀÏ¿¡

 

³» µµ¿òÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇÏ´Ù°í ÇßÁÒ

 

±×·¡¿ä

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¾ó±¼»çÁø, Àü°ú±â·Ï,
¾Ë·ÁÁø °ø¹ü¸í´Ü,

 

±×°¡ °ü·ÃµÆ´Ù°í ¸»ÇÑ
ÁÖ°ÅħÀÔ»ç°Ç¿¡

 

´ëÇؼ­´Â Çϳªµµ ¾ø¾ú¾î¿ä

 

±×·¡¼­¿ä?

 

10¿ù ÀÌÈÄ ÄÚ´Ï ¾ÆÀÏ·£µå¿¡¼­

 

ÁÖ°ÅħÀÔ°­µµ»ç°ÇÀº ¾ø¾ú°í

 

±× ³²ÀÚ´Â ´ç½ÅÀÌ Ã¼Æ÷Çß¾úÁÒ

 

ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ´Â Àü°ú°¡ ÀÖ¾î¿ä

 

±øÆÐÁö¸¸, ³»°¡ º¸±â¿¡

 

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°ü½ÉÀÌ °¡´Â »ç¶÷Àº ¾Æ´ÏÁÒ

 

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ÁøÂ¥ ¿ë°ÇÀÌ ¹¹¿¹¿ä?

 

½Ã°£ ³¶ºñÇÏ°Ô ¸¸µé¾ú³ªº¸±º¿ä

 

ÇÏÁö¸¸ ³» »ý°¢º¸´Ù ¶È¶ÈÇϳ×

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°ÅÁþ¸»À̾ß

 

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ÀÌÀ¯¸¦ ¸»Çϱâ´Â ½ÈÁö

 

Æøź»ç°Ç Àß Ã³¸®ÇÏ±æ ¹Ù¶ó

 

ÄÚ´Ï ¾ÆÀÏ·£µå¿¡¼­ µµ¿òÀÌ ÇÊ¿äÇϸé

 

ÀüÈ­ÇØ¿ä

 

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"µô·± Ç콺°¡ ¼­·Î ¿À´Â ÁßÀÌ´Ù"

 

Àú±â ÀÖ¾î¿ä

 

¸¶Ä¿½º°¡ Àß ¹¬Çôµ×À¸´Ï

 

¿ì¸®°¡ ½ÃÀÛÇÏ¸é µÅ¿ä

 

ÄÚ¸£Å×Áî Çü»ç ¾ê±âÇÏ°í½Í¾î¿ä

 

¸ÕÀú ¾Ë·ÁÁÖ°í ½ÍÀº °Ç,

 

´ç½ÅÀº ¾Ë¸®¹ÙÀÌ°¡ ¿Ïº®ÇØ¿ä

 

-³×?
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Àͼ÷ÇÑ À̸§À» µé¾ú¾î¿ä.
ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ¶ó°í

 

»õº® 3½Ã°æ

 

±×·¹À̺꼾µå¿¡¼­ ½À°ÝÀ» ¹Þ¾Ò´ë¿ä

 

Áß·® ±Û·¯ºê¸¦ ³¤ »ç¶÷¿¡°Ô
µÎµé°Ü¸Â¾Ò´Ù°í ÇØ¿ä

 

1ºí·° ¶³¾îÁø °÷¿¡¼­ÀÇ
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±ä °ËÁ¤¸Ó¸®ÀÇ ¿©ÀÚ¿´´ë¿ä

 

´ç½ÅÀº ´Ù ÇØ´çÇØ¿ä

 

ÄÚ¸£Å×Áî°¡ ³ªÇÑÅ× ´©¸íÀ»
¾º¿ì·Á°í Çß´Ù´Â ¸»ÀÌ¿¡¿ä?

 

ÇíÅÍ ¸àµµÀÚ¿¡ ´ëÇØ ¹°¾ú°í

 

±× ÈÄ ¿©ÀÚ¿¡°Ô ¾öû³ª°Ô ¸Â¾Ò¾î¿ä

 

¿ì¿¬Àϱî¿ä?

 

¾î·µç, ¸»ÇßµíÀÌ,
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ºê¶ó¿î½ºÅæ ¹ÛÀÇ Ä«¸Þ¶ó¿¡

 

´ç½ÅÀº ¹ã 11½Ã¿¡ µµÂøÇؼ­
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ÀûÀÇ Àǵµ°¡ ¹«¾ùÀ̵ç,

 

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Previously on Elementary...

 

A police detective came
to my house this morning

 

and all her questions
were about you.

 

Did she tell you her name?
Gina Cortes.

 

I take it you've never
used a consultant.

 

Real cops do
the job themselves.

 

That's how it works.

 

You don't belong.
I don't know what to tell you,

 

Detective--
I'm not going anywhere.

 

You want to fight me?

 

That's how it's done, right,

 

when two cops have a problem
with each other

 

and they can't resolve it?
There's a ring right there.

 

HOLMES: You, of course,
need to work on your defense.

 

You allowed Cortes to land
far too many punches.

 

But all that matters is
that I landed the last one.

 

I was looking for that.

 

Looking for what?
Bob.

 

Yeah, well, I found him first.

 

What did Bob do to you?

 

Bob didn't do anything.

 

Someone did something.

 

Yeah, remember Detective Cortes?

 

Burglary Division,
6-4 squad, Coney Island,

 

and your stalker for awhile.

 

Yeah, well she's back.

 

I thought you two already

 

settled your differences
in the ring.

 

Ah, so did I,
but then Marcus said

 

she came by the 11th,
wouldn't say what she wanted,

 

just said she was
looking for me.

 

Oh, you're preparing
for a rematch.

 

Just working out
some frustration.

 

(sighs)

 

I'm gonna go
by her precinct tomorrow.

 

See how she likes it...

 

(grunting):
when someone pops in on her.

 

(elevator bell dings)

 

¢Ü I'm not saying my baby's
a saint 'cause he ain't ¢Ü

 

¢Ü And that he won't cat
around with a kitty ¢Ü

 

¢Ü I'm just a-telling you, gal,
to lay off of my man... ¢Ü

 

Don't play hard
to get with me, Eugene.

 

NICOLE:
¢Ü I'm just a-telling you, gal ¢Ü

 

¢Ü To lay off of my man... ¢Ü

 

If you don't want to go
to Fist City.

 

Oh, correct answers must
be sung, not recited.

 

What do you got, Nicki?

 

Omar Velez.

 

Homeless Latino man, age 51,

 

NICOLE: five-foot-nine,
170 pounds.

 

Eyes green, hair brown.
Was found on a trail

 

in Idlewild Park
around 6:00 this morning.

 

And what brings Mr. Velez
to our fine establishment?

 

Blood loss, organ damage,

 

multiple lacerations

 

in the chest and torso area,
knife wounds.

 

Homicide, no question.

 

Oh, we're a little
backed up today,

 

probably won't be able to get
to this one till tomorrow...

 

uh... we can park him in D3,
but let's get a core temp first.

 

Way ahead of you.

 

The detectives asked
for time of death,

 

so I took care of that
at the crime scene.

 

Mr. Velez drew his last breath
around 5:15 this morning.

 

So, uh...

 

(grunting): I don't know
if you're busy, but... I know

 

you like hockey, uh, and, uh,

 

I have an extra, uh,

 

ticket to
the Rangers game tonight.

 

Are you asking me out, Eugene?

 

Maybe.

 

Meet you here at six?

 

Deal.

 

¢Ü Well, I was born
a coal miner's daughter ¢Ü

 

¢Ü In a cabin on a hill in... ¢Ü

 

¢Ü Elementary 4x11 ¢Ü
Down Where the Dead Delight
Original Air Date on February 4, 2016

 

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

 

(indistinct radio transmissions)
HAWES: I-I was with Nicole

 

and then-then there was
this sound and then...

 

she was gone.

 

Let's get him to the hospital.

 

No, no hospital.

 

I'm a witness. I want to help.

 

You sure it was a bomb,
not some gas line thing?

 

It was a bomb.
Based on the damage here,

 

it was about the size
of a loaf of bread.

 

D-Do you remember anything

 

out of place?
Anything out of the ordinary?

 

No, I was here all morning.

 

The only other person
I saw was Nicole.

 

The blast pattern emanates
from inside the body cooler.

 

It was either
planted there...

 

Or someone hid it
inside a body.

 

She was here to drop one off,
was she not?

 

Homeless guy.

 

Omar... uh, Omar something.

 

Um, Velez.
Uh, he had a lacerated torso.

 

Big enough
for a loaf of bread?

 

If you removed
a few organs, yeah.

 

Doesn't make any sense.
Why blow up a morgue?

 

The best guess
is the bomber wanted

 

to hide the evidence
of a homicide.

 

You know,
blow up a few bodies,

 

don't have to worry about
what turns up in an autopsy.

 

Sombra Roja.

 

What?

 

Sombra Roja.

 

The cartel-- we got five

 

Honduran gang members
down here the other day.

 

That shoot-out at Port Morris?

 

Narcotics are sure
it was Sombra Roja.

 

They were hoping
the autopsies could turn up

 

something concrete. I'll pull
the files, there's got to be

 

some evidence we can...
No, we can get it.

 

You need to go
to the hospital.

 

Do me a favor.

 

Don't be too careful
when you make the arrests.

 

People who did this...

 

...they belong down here.

 

How familiar are you two
with Sombra Roja?

 

The Red Shadow are a recent
arrival from Zacatecas.

 

This would not be
the first time

 

that they've used explosives,
however,

 

in their short tenure
in New York.

 

Yeah, they were responsible

 

for a car bomb that killed
a judge in Brooklyn.

 

Yeah, the FBI is still building
their case,

 

but, yeah, that's them.

 

I'm gonna call the Feds,
see if they can point us

 

to anyone specific.

 

While I endorse the cartel's
candidacy for this crime,

 

I don't think we should put
all our eggs in one basket,

 

so you assist the Captain.

 

I'll enlist Detective Bell

 

to commandeer
the Omar Velez case...

 

Because the person
who killed him

 

is probably the same one

 

who put a bomb in his gut.

 

So, this is where
Omar Velez's body

 

was discovered.

 

Apparently, the jogger
who found it

 

almost tripped,
it was so close to the path.

 

Well, you don't go through
the trouble of stuffing a body

 

full of explosives
and then risk it

 

not being found, do you?

 

How's Hawes?

 

He's not good.

 

The woman who died
was important to him.

 

Nicole. Yeah, I worked
with her a couple times.

 

She was nice.

 

What is it?

 

Hold this for me, would you?

 

¢Ü ¢Ü

 

(phone ringing)

 

What the hell are you doing?

 

There's some police tape
over here

 

and footprints
from police-issued boots.

 

At some point
in the last 48 hours...

 

this was an active crime scene.

 

A crime scene?

 

Just 30 yards from where

 

Omar Velez was found
this morning?

 

A coincidence, no?

 

I think it would behoove us

 

to find out what happened here.

 

Detective Cortes,

 

maybe you hadn't heard,
but a bomb went off

 

in an OCME building today.

 

In about 15 minutes,
I am meeting my captain,

 

and an attorney for a drug
cartel we think is responsible.

 

So, if you don't mind
tabling this whole

 

I-cost-your-friend-a-job
thing,

 

I will happily kick your ass
at another time.

 

Actually, I came here
to ask for your help.

 

I did hear about the bomb,

 

but I didn't know you
were working it.

 

I guess I should have figured.

 

You and your partner get
whatever you want, right?

 

Sorry I bothered you.

 

What do you want my help with?

 

Case.

 

I'm trying to get
my hands on a suspect,

 

only no one seems
to know where he is.

 

It's been weeks now,

 

and I actually got
desperate enough

 

to come see you.

 

I thought real cops
didn't use consultants.

 

Like I said, I'm desperate.

 

This is my last stop
before the psychic.

 

But, hey,
you've got your hands full,

 

so I'll let you know how it goes
on the crystal ball circuit.

 

Leave the file.

 

I'll look at it when I can.

 

Why on Earth would you think
my client would bomb a morgue?

 

Because he is the head
of Sombra Roja,

 

and because the bodies

 

of five murdered
Honduran gangsters

 

were destroyed in that blast.

 

Bodies that his men
put there.

 

We think autopsies
would produce some evidence

 

that your client didn't
want revealed.

 

GREGSON: Now, normally,
he wouldn't care

 

if any of his underlings
went down.

 

They never talk
when they're captured,

 

and it's easy enough

 

to rotate new sicarios
into the country.

 

But the men that killed
those Hondurans,

 

they weren't just
any underlings now,

 

were they?

 

We know Mr. Barranco's nephews,
Justino and Angel,

 

arrived in town last week.

 

We also know
that they have a few notches

 

on their belts.

 

WATSON: Your client
might not blow up

 

a morgue to protect
his foot soldiers, but family

 

is different.

 

My client and his nephews
are businessmen.

 

Look at their bank statements,
their tax returns.

 

It's all above board.

 

Oh, I'm sure there's not
a comma out of place.

 

You're good at what you do.

 

And so is the FBI.

 

And they're pretty sure
that Sombra Roja

 

used a car bomb
to assassinate Judge Malthus

 

in Park Slope last year

 

right in front of a fund-raiser

 

for the bar association.

 

One theory

 

that occurred to us
was that another guest

 

distracted the judge
while the bomb was planted.

 

You were there
that night, right?

 

Would you like the NYPD
to publicly investigate

 

that theory, Mr. Rivera?

 

Let me ask you something
about that car bomb.

 

Was it made of commercial,

 

plastic explosives,
like this...

 

device... that went off
at your morgue?

 

No.

 

Maybe that's because

 

commercial, plastic explosives

 

are some of the most
regulated substances

 

in the country.

 

You need a license
to get anywhere near them.

 

Records are kept.

 

It's all very traceable.

 

I imagine most cartels
are smart enough

 

to avoid the stuff.

 

Maybe.

 

Maybe scumbags
make mistakes sometimes.

 

Let's assume,

 

for a moment, your morgue
hadn't exploded.

 

Imagine it turned out

 

autopsies were completed
on the dead Hondurans.

 

And imagine, it turned out
that one of those men

 

wasn't a Honduran at all.

 

Maybe he was a...

 

rogue member of Sombra Roja.

 

A man who exchanged gunfire

 

with the other four,
then died at the scene.

 

If that were true,

 

this attack on the Hondurans
would be a closed loop,

 

and Sombra Roja certainly
wouldn't have had any reason

 

to bomb a morgue.

 

(phone chirps)

 

That's an awfully specific
hypothetical,

 

not to mention,

 

a convenient one.

 

Then let's not call it
a hypothetical.

 

Let's call it a fact.

 

I can utilize

 

certain resources to...

 

...help you identify

 

the Sombra Roja soldier.

 

You'll see
I'm telling the truth.

 

(phone chirping)

 

(sighs)

 

Will you excuse me a moment?

 

You know you pulled me
out of a meeting, right?

 

On general principle
you needn't worry

 

about being rude
to a cartel lawyer,

 

and certainly
not in this case.

 

I no longer believe
that Sombra Roja was involved,

 

or that the bombing
was about the slain Hondurans.

 

Then who was it about?

 

This young woman.

 

Her remains were
amongst those decimated

 

this morning.

 

Detective Bell and I
have just returned from...

 

Idlewild Park.

 

While standing here,

 

at the site Omar Velez's
body was discovered,

 

I noticed police tape
on the other side

 

of this creek,

 

here.

 

Imagine my surprise
discovering

 

a second crime scene.

 

It seems that this young
woman was strangled,

 

her body sunk,
only to pop up two days ago.

 

I'm surprised
we didn't hear about that.

 

Well, we probably would have,

 

were it not for the fact
that this creek

 

separates Idlewild Park
from North Woodmere Park.

 

It also happens to be the border

 

between Queens County

 

and Nassau County.

 

She and Omar Velez

 

were discovered a stone's throw
from one another,

 

but their cases were not linked

 

thanks to a cruel trick
of municipal geography.

 

So, Omar Velez landed
with the NYPD,

 

while Nassau County
handled her death,

 

but if she was found
outside our jurisdiction,

 

what was she doing
in our morgue?

 

Nassau County's
small facility was full,

 

thanks to a multi-car pile-up

 

on the L.I.E. a few days ago.

 

The overflow had been
going to Mr. Hawes.

 

Nassau police bagged
her hands at the scene.

 

It appears she scratched
her attacker before she died.

 

So his DNA was under her nails?

 

Presumably.

 

He tried, and failed,
to sink her body.

 

Once she was discovered,
he had a problem.

 

So, he sliced up Velez,

 

stuffed a bomb inside him,

 

and then dumped him
at the same site.

 

He assumed the body
of his second victim

 

would go to the same
morgue as the first.

 

The bomb would destroy,
or contaminate,

 

any evidence
that led back to him.

 

Whatever remained
would be inadmissible.

 

He inadvertently
calculated correctly.

 

Omar Velez was a dead end,

 

but if we can figure out

 

who wanted her dead,
we'll have our bomber.

 

Precisely.

 

Okay, so who was she?

 

I have no idea. No one does.

 

That's the problem.

 

She's a Jane Doe.

 

GREGSON: Okay,
so we don't know her name.

 

What do we know about her?

 

She was strangled, beat up
pretty good before that.

 

Somebody was angry.

 

Severe bruising
on the legs and hips.

 

Looks like she was repeatedly
kicked or punched.

 

The water was frigid--
I can personally attest to that.

 

So exact time of death

 

was difficult to ascertain.

 

But the best guess
is she was killed

 

somewhere in the 48 hours
prior to being discovered.

 

And she doesn't turn up
on any missing persons lists?

 

Her name remains unknown.

 

Her number, however,
appears to be three.

 

You don't think
this could be a serial?

 

Some creep numbering his victims

 

before he dumps them.

 

That's a fear. Nassau detectives

 

have been making lists of crimes

 

with similar characteristics,

 

looking for any overlap

 

with what happened to Jane Doe,

 

but I took a look.

 

Didn't see a pattern yet.

 

Her name was
Janet of the Apes.

 

That's her.

 

It's got to be.
How did you...

 

I treated a girl in the ER
once who needed stitches

 

after a roller derby match.

 

Her hips were covered
in bruises like those.

 

I was about to call social
services when she told me

 

it was from all the ¡°checking¡±
she did on the track.

 

She had a number
on her arm, too.

 

Players have to write them
there so the refs

 

can tell them apart.

 

This isn't some message
from a serial killer,

 

it's our Jane Doe's
roller derby number.

 

Well, if she has
a roller derby number,

 

she'll have
roller derby teammates.

 

We should go visit

 

the Bombastic Brooklyn Bettys.

 

¢Ü Glory, glory ¢Ü

 

¢Ü A change in the wind ¢Ü

 

¢Ü Oh, hallelujah ¢Ü

 

¢Ü We all insane... ¢Ü

 

You can almost smell
the estrogen, can't you?

 

Perhaps instead of a ring,

 

you and Detective Cortes
could settle

 

your differences here,
on wheels.

 

Actually, I don't think
there's going to be a rematch.

 

She came by the station
this morning.

 

Turns out she wants
my help with a case.

 

What sort of a case?

 

There's been a rash
of home invasion robberies

 

in her precinct.

 

She thinks someone named
Hector Mendoza is responsible.

 

She wants my help
to find him.

 

Why your help?

 

I don't know, maybe because
I'm good at what I do?

 

What?

 

Well, until this morning,
she was your enemy.

 

She's not an enemy.
I don't have enemies.

 

I'm not like you.

 

You think
she's messing with me again?

 

I think,
based on your description,

 

she's the kind of woman
who holds grudges.

 

She's also been known to employ

 

unorthodox methods
of harassment.

 

So, how is finding a criminal
a method of harassment?

 

Your assuming Hector Mendoza
is a criminal.

 

He might be
an undercover policeman,

 

or a very good friend
of the mayor's.

 

I'm just saying,
proceed with caution.

 

WOMAN:
Oh, my God, that's Janet.

 

Janet Heffernan.
Someone killed her?

 

A few days ago.

 

Did you know her well?

 

No, none of us did.

 

She only joined the team
a few weeks ago.

 

Did anything about her

 

jump out at you,
anything unusual?

 

Yes?

 

I tweaked my knee
a few weeks ago.

 

Janet told me she could

 

sell me some oxy for the pain.

 

So, she was a drug dealer?

 

I don't know.

 

I told her I was fine, but...

 

yeah, maybe.

 

Would you have Ms. Heffernan's
address, by any chance?

 

We've got medical releases
for everybody.

 

Wait here
and I'll get hers for you.

 

Thank you.

 

HOLMES:
What about Cyclone Joan?

 

Joan of Bark?

 

Janet left her computer signed
in to an e-mail account,

 

but it looks like it was
just for work.

 

I see messages but...

 

they're just from oxy clients,
no one else.

 

Joan Cold Killer, perhaps?

 

Will you stop it with
the roller derby names for me?

 

Swat-son.

 

What is that?

 

A container of garlic salt,
rather suspiciously hidden

 

beneath the sink
in the bathroom.

 

Oh.

 

Not the stash of a kingpin.

 

I would wager Ms. Heffernan
was rather a small player

 

in the oxycodone game.

 

I think you're right.
It looks like she only

 

had about a dozen customers.

 

In the case of murdered
drug dealers,

 

drug buyers
make excellent suspects.

 

I don't know.
Most of these messages

 

are just working out logistics

 

for really small transactions.

 

I mean, it's possible
that Janet was killed

 

over a hundred bucks,
but take a look at this.

 

This was sent six days ago
to Toby Dannon.

 

Looks like
one of her regulars.

 

¡°Dude, Dylan says he saw you

 

¡°leaving my parking lot
last night.

 

I swore you were never here,
but he's super mad.¡±

 

So, since she doesn't only have

 

multiple clients,
she has multiple men.

 

Well, there aren't any e-mails

 

to or from a Dylan
in this account,

 

but he sounds like
a jealous boyfriend.

 

Perhaps Toby Dannon will know
something about the night

 

he was cuckolding.

 

That's if Mr. Dannon
hasn't already

 

been strangled
and left in a creek.

 

You know, I saw his address...

 

in one of his e-mails
to Janet.

 

Here.

 

He lives in Morris Park.

 

I'll call Marcus.

 

Can I help you?

 

I'm Detective Marcus Bell.

 

I'm looking for Toby Dannon.

 

I'm his father.
Is everything okay?

 

I'd just like to ask him
a few questions.

 

Why? Did something happen?

 

I think it's better
if I discuss it with Toby.

 

Is he here?

 

Well, he is, but
this is my house,

 

and he's my son.
I think I have a right to know

 

what you want
to talk to him about.

 

I want to talk about the fact

 

that his drug dealer
was murdered a few days ago.

 

Can I come in now?

 

I-I mean, uh, yeah, yeah,
it's-it's true.

 

I was buying oxy
off of-of Janet.

 

Toby, what the hell
were you thinking?

 

Did you ever drive

 

a truck onto one of my sites

 

when you were on that stuff?

 

Did you ever run a saw?

 

Due respect, Mr. Dannon,
I have a few questions

 

of my own I'd like to ask.

 

Maybe you could give
us a minute.

 

Listen, I'm not here for some
kind of midnight raid, okay?

 

Nobody's getting dragged
down to the station.

 

I just want to talk to you
about what happened to Janet.

 

(stammers)
What do you-what do you mean?

 

What-what happened?

 

She was strangled.

 

Three days ago.

 

A couple of my colleagues
were at Janet's apartment today.

 

They found an e-mail she sent,

 

warning you to be careful

 

because someone named Dylan
had seen you leaving

 

her parking lot.

 

That name ring a bell?

 

Yeah, uh, Dylan is Dylan Hess.

 

He was a boyfriend of hers,
on and off.

 

He was a jerk.

 

She seemed to think
he might try to hurt you.

 

That because you and Janet
had something on the side,

 

he found out, got jealous?

 

No, no, nothing like that.

 

Then what was the problem?

 

Janet told me that

 

Dylan didn't want her...

 

around any drugs.

 

Using, selling, any of it.

 

um, me and-and the people
she sold it to,

 

we were a part of the problem.

 

And Janet,

 

she got tired
of hearing it, so...

 

that's one of the reasons
why they broke up.

 

They weren't together anymore?

 

A-About a month ago
they got in a fight.

 

Like a, like a fight fight.

 

Like h-he sent her
to the hospital.

 

After that, they were done.

 

You ever meet this guy?

 

You think Dylan could
have killed Janet?

 

Honestly, I don't know
who else it could have been.

 

You said
you had something for me?

 

What is this really about?

 

What's what really about?

 

You said you wanted my help

 

finding Hector Mendoza.

 

I do.

 

The information
you gave me

 

was mostly about him.

 

Mug shot, rap sheet,
list of known associates,

 

but there was nothing in there
about the home invasions

 

you said he's been
pulling off.

 

So?

 

There hasn't been
a home invasion robbery

 

in Coney Island since October,

 

and that guy was
caught by you.

 

Hector Mendoza has a record.

 

He's in a gang,
but as far as I can tell,

 

he's not wanted
by anyone for anything.

 

So, I'll ask you again.
What is this really about?

 

Figured I'd waste
a little of your time,

 

but hey, you're smarter
than I thought.

 

Congrats.

 

You're lying.

 

About what?

 

All of it.

 

You want this guy found.

 

You just don't want
to tell me why.

 

Good luck with the bomb thing.

 

If you need a hand
in Coney Island

 

you know who to call.

 

I see you got Marcus' text.

 

¡°Dylan Hess
en route to precinct.¡±

 

That's him in there.

 

Marcus is letting him
stew for a moment,

 

and then we'll begin.

 

I want to talk to you
about Detective Cortes.

 

First, I'd like you to know,

 

that you are completely alibied.

 

What?
I overheard

 

a familiar name a short
while ago-- Hector Mendoza.

 

At approximately 3:00 a.m.

 

he was viciously assaulted
in Gravesend.

 

He was ambushed
and then beaten

 

by someone wearing a pair
of weighted knuckle gloves.

 

According to a witness

 

one block away, it was someone

 

with long,
dark hair and breasts.

 

You have both.

 

Or all three,
depending on your maths.

 

Wait, are you
saying that Cortes

 

was trying to frame me?

 

She had you ask around
about Mr. Mendoza,

 

and then someone-- a woman--
viciously assaulted him.

 

You think that's coincidence?

 

Anyway, as I said,
you have an alibi.

 

The cameras outside
the brownstone

 

have you arriving at 11:00 p.m.
and you did not leave until...

 

47 minutes ago.

 

Whatever your enemy
is up to,

 

it will not work.

 

You guys ready?

 

I didn't kill Janet, okay?

 

I would never do
something like that.

 

So, you'll break her nose,
put her in the ER,

 

but you draw the
line at murder?

 

That's not what happened.

 

We have her hospital records.

 

Yes, I hit her. Once.

 

Okay?
But it was self-defense.

 

You want to see
my hospital records?

 

She slammed my hand
in the door.

 

Are you under the impression
that doesn't go towards motive?

 

We had a fight, okay?

 

And I'm sure
for most couples

 

it means hugging
and crying and whatever,

 

but Janet was a rowdy girl.

 

You know, when she got angry,
she got physical.

 

You're the ex-boyfriend
with no alibi,

 

with a history of violence
towards the victim.

 

Wait, what are you talking
about ex-boyfriend?

 

BELL:
We heard you and Janet

 

broke up after the fight.

 

Yeah, for like three days,
and then she forgave me

 

like she always did,
and we got back together.

 

Look, you can see.

 

These were taken last week.

 

Look.

 

HOLMES:
Well, it certainly proves

 

you were spending a lot of time

 

with Ms. Heffernan in the days
before she disappeared.

 

What do I have to do to prove it
to you that I didn't do this?

 

We have reason to believe

 

Janet scratched her attacker

 

before she died,
would you mind if we...

 

There, look.

 

See?

 

Not one scratch.

 

What, you want to see the rest?

 

I got nothing to hide.

 

Hey, where are you going
with my phone, man?

 

Did he prove beyond
all reasonable doubt

 

that Janet Heffernan's
last desperate act

 

was not clawing
at his private parts?

 

Let's just say he's not
looking like our guy.

 

What did you see
in that phone?

 

Oh, it's what I didn't see.

 

Yesterday, when we visited
Janet Heffernan's apartment,

 

there was a coaxial jack
for cable

 

above the counter
in her kitchen.

 

Three weeks ago, however,

 

when that photograph
was taken...

 

No jack.

 

So, she got cable, so what?

 

So she doesn't own
a television.

 

Unless you think the building
management insisted on the jack,

 

consider the placement.

 

Bad spot for a TV.

 

Good spot for a camera.

 

It's a spy cam.

 

I'm not familiar
with this particular model,

 

but it would serve the purposes
of your average voyeur.

 

You really think a cable
plug is gonna show up

 

out of thin air and she's not
gonna notice it?

 

How many outlets, plugs and
jacks are there in your kitchen?

 

We really are living
in a golden age

 

for perverts.

 

Whoever planted this lacked
the technical expertise

 

to broadcast the feed,
so everything is stored

 

on this drive,
which means they would

 

have had to repeatedly break in
to access the footage.

 

Here.

 

(sighs)

 

Hello.

 

BELL: That's the guy you sent me
to talk to last night.

 

That's Toby Dannon.

 

How'd you feel about another
trip to Morris Park, then?

 

Toby's not here-- he's at work.

 

Well, can you tell us
when you expect him back?

 

What is this?

 

I need to speak

 

to your son again, Mr. Dannon.

 

Is this about
the woman you were

 

asking about yesterday,
the drug dealer?

 

Janet Heffernan,
the murder victim.

 

Yeah, well,
Toby's shift just started.

 

He won't be back for hours.

 

You think Toby killed her,
don't you?

 

We didn't say that.

 

Are you worried he might have?

 

Of course, she isn't.

 

Toby's a good kid,

 

just a little... different.

 

How so?

 

We had a tough time

 

when he was in school,
but we got him help.

 

His therapist said
he's doing much better...

 

Beverly, I don't think we need
to say anything else.

 

We're just here
to talk to your son

 

and take a look
around his room.

 

Well, this is my house.

 

I don't consent to your search.

 

I don't give you permission.

 

All due respect, Mr. Dannon,
this warrant means

 

we don't need your permission.

 

Hey, could you not
touch that, please?

 

It belonged to my father.

 

I can't stop you from observing,
Mr. Dannon,

 

but, please, don't interfere.

 

We have a job to do.

 

Toby always lived at home?

 

Yes.

 

Half the kids he went
to high school with

 

still live with their folks.

 

It's the economy.

 

Yeah...

 

And he has a job at your
construction company, correct?

 

Yeah, he's saving money.

 

It's smart.

 

You know about this?

 

Wonder what was in here
before I showed up last night.

 

When's trash day?

 

Tuesday.

 

Okay.

 

I'm gonna go have
a look in the cans.

 

Mm-hmm.

 

Toby got many friends?

 

What the hell kind
of a question is that?

 

I don't know,

 

most of the pictures here

 

are of the three of you.

 

Said he was ¡°different.¡±

 

Look, Toby's not
some kind of a loner creep.

 

No matter how badly you
want to paint him as one.

 

You were saying?

 

WATSON:
Before.

 

After.

 

What is this?

 

You found Hector Mendoza?

 

No, you found Hector Mendoza
last night.

 

I don't know
what you're talking about.

 

I went to talk to him this
morning, only he can't talk.

 

They had to wire
his jaw shut.

 

When I showed him your picture
he didn't recognize you,

 

but who knows?

 

Maybe that's just
the concussion?

 

You did this to him.

 

I want to know why.

 

Come with me.

 

There's something
I want to show you.

 

Is it a pair
of SAP gloves?

 

Just come.

 

Her name's Nyoka Carver.

 

That's her mom
trying to feed her.

 

Why are you showing me this?

 

This was Nyoka

 

18 months ago.

 

She was on her school's
varsity team since eighth grade.

 

In between seasons,

 

she liked to play
against the boys

 

in the pickup games
at Kaiser Park.

 

When he wasn't dealing drugs

 

or running with his gang,

 

Hector Mendoza liked
to play there, too.

 

A little over a year ago,

 

she embarrassed him
on the court.

 

I mean, just... humiliated.

 

He went to his car.

 

He came back with his gun,
and he pistol whipped her.

 

He didn't kill her,
but he might as well have.

 

She has irreversible
brain damage.

 

I ran his name yesterday.

 

I didn't see anything
about that in the system.

 

Of course, you didn't.

 

The kids that were there
were too afraid

 

to give Hector up.

 

They knew if they did,

 

they'd get the same
from his crew.

 

End of the day,
no one saw a thing.

 

How did you find out about it?

 

Sources.

 

Couple weeks later,
Hector went after a member

 

of a rival gang,
the 86 Street Kings.

 

Shot him in the stomach.

 

The guy lived,
but Hector went to the top

 

of the Kings' hit list,

 

so he went into hiding.

 

I wasn't lying when I came
to see you the other day.

 

I did everything
I could to find Hector.

 

You were my last hope.

 

And then, last night

 

out of nowhere,
I found out

 

that he was crashing
at a friend's in Gravesend.

 

Then you gave him what
you thought he deserved.

 

You think he deserved less?

 

You've done this before.

 

Back when I looked into you,
I realized how good you are.

 

I could use help.

 

What makes you think
I would help you?

 

I know about you
and your partner,

 

how you work.

 

I read the transcript
from that disciplinary hearing.

 

We don't hurt people.

 

You don't hurt people,

 

but your partner does sometimes.

 

He gets it.

 

I think you get it, too.

 

Otherwise,
you wouldn't be with him.

 

Think about it.

 

It's all I'm asking.

 

Still no word on Toby Dannon?

 

Uniformed officers visited
all three construction sites

 

where he could
have been working.

 

He seems to have
taken a powder.

 

Think his parents
tipped him off?

 

Wouldn't surprise me
if they were packing his bags

 

for Rio as we speak.

 

In the meantime,
Finest Message has been issued.

 

A lot of oxy.

 

Toby must have had
a serious habit

 

if he was taking
this much every week.

 

Actually, I think you're looking

 

at every pill he ever bought

 

from Janet Heffernan.

 

I don't think he used the drug.

 

I think he just liked buying it.

 

That makes sense.

 

He was obsessed with her.

 

Her job gave him an excuse
to be around her.

 

So, how'd it go
with your stalker?

 

Did you make it clear
that the frame-up wouldn't work?

 

She wasn't framing me.

 

(phone chirps)
Then what was she doing?

 

It's complicated.

 

Well, it appears Toby Dannon

 

hasn't fled the country,
after all.

 

He's at the 11th.

 

BELL: The idea isn't for you
to admire your work, Toby,

 

you're supposed
to answer for it.

 

I don't know what you
want me to say.

 

WATSON:
We want you

 

to tell the truth
about Janet Heffernan

 

and Omar Velez.

 

Who?

 

Did you not get his name
before you gutted him

 

and turned him into a bomb?

 

I-I-I don't know
what you're talking about.

 

I mean, I-I-I don't understand
any of this.

 

You were obsessed
with Janet Heffernan.

 

That's obvious.

 

All right, we also know
you were familiar with the site

 

of Omar Velez's murder--

 

Idlewild Park.

 

Your dad's crew helped build
the visitor center there

 

last year, and since
you're in construction,

 

you have access
to plastic explosives, so...

 

what am I missing?

 

There's the wound
on his right arm.

 

You're attempting to conceal it,
but you're nursing an injury

 

just below your elbow.

 

Yeah, I, uh, I-I cut
myself at work.

 

Or Janet scratched you
while she fought for her life.

 

I would never hurt her.

 

BELL:
Really? 'Cause it looks like

 

you fantasized about killing
her 50 different ways.

 

Uh, see,

 

m-m-my therapist, uh,

 

told me to-to write

 

what I felt.

 

You know,
just to-to get it all out.

 

You drew pictures of Janet
getting her head cut off.

 

Yeah, but I loved her.

 

How is this love, Toby?

 

I wanted her...

 

all right,
but she-she didn't want me back.

 

I would go to see her,

 

and she would just brush me off.

 

T-These journals,
they were just a way

 

for me to, like,
work through that.

 

They weren't, like,
plans or anything.

 

Okay, no-nobody was supposed
to see those.

 

It's a terrible invasion
of privacy,

 

and you must feel very violated.

 

It's a shame
that Janet's not here

 

to commiserate with you.

 

Someone choked her to death
Tuesday night.

 

Wait, Tu-Tuesday?

 

What time on Tuesday?

 

BELL: Specifically, we were
hoping you could tell us.

 

All we know
is she disappeared somewhere

 

between the end of
roller derby practice at 7:00,

 

and dinner
with a friend at 10:00.

 

She didn't show up.

 

Okay, well, Tuesday,

 

I was riding the A train.

 

All night.

 

You know, the noise
of-of the tracks

 

a-and the-the sway of the train

 

is-is so peaceful.

 

You don't believe me?

 

Check-Check the, check
the surveillance footage, okay?

 

I'll be on there.

 

And what about the other guy?

 

The-The one that you said
had the bomb in his stomach...

 

when-when did he die?

 

Yesterday, just after 5:00 a.m.

 

I-I was in Queens all day.

 

I-I was paving a parking lot.

 

I mean, y-you guys can-can

 

ask anyone
who I was working with,

 

and they will tell you
that I was there.

 

(sighs)
I'm sorry

 

(laughing):
to disappoint you guys.

 

But I am not your man.
(chuckles)

 

WATSON: Spoiler alert:
he gets on the A train

 

and stays there all night.

 

Tech assist got
through the footage

 

from the other stations.

 

He wasn't lying.
He could not have killed

 

Janet Heffernan...
or Omar Velez.

 

You heard from Marcus.

 

Yeah, he talked
to Toby's other co-workers.

 

He confirmed
that Toby

 

was working the morning
of Omar's death.

 

He'll get time for possession,
and for putting

 

a spy camera in Janet's
apartment,

 

but when it comes
to murder indictments,

 

we are oh for two.

 

I have to confess,
I am very, very surprised.

 

I mean, he put a hidden camera
in Janet's apartment,

 

he wrote journals about her,
took pictures of her...

 

anyone looking at
his deranged little scrapbooks

 

would have sworn he did it.

 

An interesting question
to consider, then,

 

is who else might
have been looking at them?

 

What do you mean?

 

You think he was sharing it
with some other creep?

 

Not exactly.

 

You're pulling prints.

 

Searching
Toby's apartment today,

 

I was struck by the fact

 

that he had two hiding places
for his deviant treasures.

 

I couldn't help but wonder
if the migration of his stash

 

from one to the other

 

was born out of necessity,

 

rather than paranoia.

 

So, you think someone found

 

what he was hiding,
so he moved it.

 

All I know for certain,

 

is that there are two unique
right thumbprints

 

on this journal.

 

Someone else knew
Toby Dannon was

 

a danger
to Janet Heffernan.

 

GREGSON:
Neil Dannon?

 

You think the father's
behind this?

 

We know how it sounds.

 

It sounds strange.

 

The last time I checked,
Toby was peeping and plotting

 

against Janet Heffernan,
not his dad.

 

That's quite right,
but the younger Dannon's

 

obsession did not go unnoticed
by Dannon, the elder.

 

You'll see, uh,

 

there were
two different thumbprints

 

on one of Toby's journals.

 

One from the author,
and one which matched

 

the right thumb pad
of former Air Force Officer

 

Neil Dannon.

 

So, Neil got a taste
of his son's crazy.

 

That kind of thing
normally isn't contagious.

 

Imagine for one
depressing moment,

 

you are Toby Dannon's father.

 

You have a son that many say
is troubled, disturbed.

 

He is quick to violence.

 

He's obsessive.
He is unfeeling,

 

but no matter how
difficult he may be,

 

he's still your son.

 

You still feel the need
to protect him.

 

One day, you discover
a series of journals.

 

To your dismay,
they detail plans

 

to hurt a woman
named Janet Heffernan.

 

What do you do?

 

Get him help, lots of it.

 

WATSON:
He did get Toby help.

 

It wasn't working.

 

So he killed Janet Heffernan
before his son could.

 

HOLMES: If he did,
he would have prevented

 

his son from becoming
a murderer.

 

BELL:
All the evidence we have

 

that points to Toby,
points to the dad.

 

They're both familiar
with Idlewild Park,

 

they both have access to
commercial grade explosives...

 

GREGSON:
There's a problem.

 

Let's say you're right.

 

Let's say he's covered
with scratches.

 

We won't find his DNA
under Janet's fingernails.

 

Her remains were destroyed.

 

We have no proof.

 

HOLMES:
That's right, Captain.

 

And, now, I normally have
a voracious appetite for proof,

 

but in this case,
I don't think we need any.

 

You sure about this? 100%?

 

I'm afraid so.

 

We interviewed three
different guards at the MTA,

 

and one of them admitted
that Toby paid him

 

to switch Wednesday's A train
security footage

 

with Tuesday's.

 

BELL:
Your son tried to falsify

 

an alibi
for Janet Heffernan's death.

 

Now, as you can imagine,
that's not going to look

 

very good at his trial.

 

HOLMES: Nor will the fact
that one of his co-workers

 

said he went missing at the time
Omar Velez was killed

 

in Idlewild Park.

 

Why are you telling us this?

 

GREGSON:
Because we'd like your help.

 

Right now,
Toby is being surveilled

 

by one of our units.

 

It's the standard procedure
when you're suspected

 

of being a bomber.

 

The tactical experts think
the safest way to arrest Toby

 

for Ms. Heffernan's murder

 

is at his home.

 

His job site's too crowded.

 

So, when he gets back
from work later,

 

we'd like for you
to help us keep him calm,

 

make sure everything
goes smoothly,

 

so nobody else gets hurt.

 

You want us to help you
put our son in prison.

 

WATSON: You'll get
to say good-bye.

 

Toby is looking
at three counts

 

of first degree murder.

 

He is never going
to get bail or parole.

 

Today is it.

 

Okay, we'll do
whatever you ask.

 

No.

 

No, we have to.

 

No, Toby is innocent.

 

Mr. Dannon, please
consider the evidence...

 

No, you don't understand.

 

I did this.

 

I killed Janet.

 

What?

 

I never meant
for it to happen.

 

I knew Toby liked Janet, I...

 

found his journals,

 

and I confronted him.

 

I could tell that
he wasn't gonna let it go.

 

He couldn't.

 

I went to Janet
and I asked her

 

to stop talking to Toby,

 

stop selling him drugs.

 

I even offered her money
to move, to disappear.

 

She wouldn't listen.

 

We started arguing, and...

 

the next thing I knew,
she came at me.

 

I don't know.
We were fighting.

 

It was self-defense, I swear.

 

And the murder of Omar Velez?

 

And the bomb which killed
Nicole Slater at the morgue?

 

That was self-defense, too,
I suppose.

 

Oh, God...

 

(sobbing):
Oh, God...

 

You been out here long?

 

I went to see
Nyoka Carver today.

 

I sat with her

 

for a very long time.

 

I talked to her mother.

 

About me?

 

About Nyoka.

 

Did you know she was bullied
in school because she was gay?

 

No.

 

The funny thing is,
she never let it get to her.

 

Her attitude was
turn the other cheek.

 

She even wrote
an essay about it

 

for a college application.

 

Let me guess, you don't think
she would have wanted

 

anyone going
after Hector Mendoza.

 

I don't know what
she would have wanted,

 

but I don't think you did
what you did for her.

 

I think you did it for yourself.

 

You needed to hurt him.

 

He needed to be hurt.

 

There's a difference.

 

I've decided
I am gonna help you.

 

By warning you,
don't do this again.

 

Or what?

 

Or I'll prove it was you.

 

I read the report
on Hector's assault.

 

You were careful.

 

There's no evidence
that you did it.

 

But next time...

 

You've been doing this
four years, right?

 

And before that you were
some kind of rehab expert,

 

and before that
you were a doctor.

 

Four years is nothing.

 

You think you've seen things,
but you haven't.

 

Stay the course

 

this time, Joan.

 

Stick this one out.

 

Eventually, I'll see things
just like you.

 

You and your partner,

 

you're already
right on that edge.

 

Who knows?

 

Maybe I'll be the one
putting you away.

 

Race you to the bottom.

 

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man