Elementary (2012–…): Season 1, Episode 11 - Dirty Laundry - full transcript

Are we completely out of mugs?

Check the sink.

These are ready
for carbon dating.

Ugh... I take it we're
out of clean bowls, too?

And forks and
plates and cups.

Where am I supposed
to put my tea?

This isn't healthy,
you know.

Little marinara is not gonna
kill you, Watson.

No, I mean the state
of your kitchen.

Don't you mean
our kitchen?

No, I mean yours.

I'm only here for ten
more days, remember?

Nine days, 12 hours, 47 minutes,

actually, but who's counting?

I'm just saying,
this is a problem.

This is the sign
of an active mind.

Lincoln,
Einstein, Freud.

All geniuses
who drew inspiration

from chaos in their environs.

Without Andrew Fleming's
reluctance to wash petri dishes,

the world wouldn't have
penicillin, would it?

Well, since the world does,
do you have to grow it

in your fridge?

Nine days, 12 hours, 46 minutes.

♪ Elementary 1x11 ♪
Dirty Laundry
Original Air Date on January 3, 2013

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

♪

Victim's name
is Teri Purcell.

She's General Manager
of this hotel.

She worked late most nights
in her office.

That's where she
was last seen.

Looks like she died from
blunt-force trauma to the head,

and then she got stuffed
in the machine

to wash away any
physical evidence.

The washer makes it hard to
pinpoint time of death.

Best guess right now
is somewhere between

9:30 and midnight.

Machine was wiped down,
so there's no fingerprints,

except for the maid's
who found her,

and no witnesses,
either.

And this?
Fountain pen.

It was found in
the washing machine

with the body
and some sheets.

Now, could be the victim's,
could be the killer's.

No way to tell 'cause
there aren't any prints.

Broken in half,
and yet I see no ink at all

on Mrs. Purcell's person,
or the sheets

that were in the washer.

I'm gonna go out on a limb,
and say it was empty.

I noticed that neither the
security camera in the corridor

nor the one by the exit
door are functioning.

The red power
lights were off.

Yeah, hotel
maintenance said

they've been inactive
for months.

They keep fixing them,
they keep going on the fritz.

Which means the attacker
could come and go

without fear of
being monitored.

Suggests they were familiar
with the environment.

As for these

drag marks here,

a distinctive maroon color from
the heels of the victim's shoes.

Similar marks running
the length of the corridor,

meaning she was dragged here
from somewhere else.

You mentioned an office?

Obviously, it looks like
the altercation

may have started here.

Not likely a robbery
gone wrong.

No drawers ransacked

or cabinets left open.

Well, so far,
all the hotel staff

we've talked to said
Mrs. Purcell is a great boss.

Everyone loved her.

Hm. Because people
are so eager

to speak ill of the dead,
aren't they?

The walls are lined
with awards

and letters of appreciation
for all her charity work.

Yes, well, we're
not so keen

to advertise our
shameful acts, are we?

No, Mrs. Purcell
wanted to be seen

as a friendly,
welcoming person.

It's not enough for
her to be altruistic,

she wants to be
acknowledged for it.

Same goes with
her family.

Here's an observation
for you.

More often than not,
when I find a murdered woman

with a wedding band
on her finger,

the husband's
the one who did it.

I say we talk
to Mr. Purcell,

find out
where he was tonight.

Ah, suburbia.

Surprised you haven't tried
to get me to move here

in the interest
of my sobriety.

All the "structure"
on display.

Mock me all you want.

Organization is
a form of structure,

and structure is good
for recovery.

After you complained
about the state of the kitchen

last night, I took
a personal inventory.

Assessed myself.

I am excelling
at recovery.

Which tells me that you're
only taking a grim view

of my progress
because you're annoyed

that I'm doing so well.
Right.

I'm upset by
your success,

which is, by association,
my success.

Success at a job
that you don't enjoy.

As opposed to my work,
which invigorates you.

I never denied that I find
what you do very interesting.

I've decided, Watson:
the lessons can continue

after our companionship ends.

A weekly salon, perhaps.

You could come by,
I could share my wisdom.

In exchange for some light
housework, of course.

Holmes.
Come on.

I don't know what to say.
Everybody loved Teri.

My poor daughter
is devastated.

Neither one of us can figure out
why anyone would hurt her.

Mr. Purcell,
we-we have to ask:

how was your relationship
with your wife?

Everything good?

Are you asking me that

because you think
I did it?

No, no, we're just trying
to get the whole picture.

I loved my wife.

Things have been as great
as they always were.

Yet you've been sleeping
on the couch lately.

The cushions are compressed

all the way across,
not just in the middle,

like they are when
someone sits on them.

Someone of your
height and weight

has been lying there
for long periods.

I have insomnia.

I can watch TV out here
without keeping Teri up.

That's very
considerate of you.

And... untrue.

The damp towels and the presence
of your toiletries

in the guest bathroom--
they suggest that your wife

has banished you completely

from the master
bedroom.

No.

Stress in the marriage
is to be expected,

given your current
unemployment.

Wait, I'm sorry.
H-How did you...

Movie ticket.
It's, uh...

Yesterday.
Monday.

It's for a matinee.

Hmm? Also, your
printer is full

of high-end card stock.

That's... that's
resume paper.

You're looking for a job.

Dad?

Are you okay?

Carly, hon,

could you please get
our guests some water?

Yeah.

Yeah, of course.

I'll give you a hand.
Thank you.

Yes, my wife and I have been
having problems, and yes,

I lost my job
as a financial consultant.

Which is why I spent yesterday
evening at a Pink Slip Mixer

with some other
unemployed friends.

Early admission
to Georgetown and Michigan.

Congratulations. Your mom
must have been really proud.

Yeah.

She was.
Looks like you're

a pretty serious
soccer player.

The coach at Michigan

promised me
that I'd start.

But my mom, she really had

her heart set on Georgetown.

I'm sorry.

Hey...

I keep telling myself,

"Tough times don't last,
tough people do""

And, "this too shall pass""

"This too shall pass."

"Living one day at a time."

I know a lot of people
in recovery.

Yeah.

Um...

A couple of years ago,
I... I hurt my knee.

So...

I started taking pain
pills just to, like,

get through games.

But by the end of the season,
I was just taking them

to get through the day, and...

My mom is the one
who helped me get clean.

You know, I'm gonna give you

my phone number.

If you need to talk,
my phone's on

all the time.

Waste of time, that was.

What?

Coming here.

He clearly has great
confidence in his alibi.

And when I look at him,
I don't see "killer""

I see "blah."

You want the scoop
on our victim?

Talk to her.

She's worth talking to because?

She's trimming an evergreen
in the middle of winter.

You're supposed
to do it June.

And the only
thing more important

than a well-maintained lawn
in the suburbs

is gossip.

Teri was a lovely woman.

Lots of people
thought so.

Men, especially.

Uh, was there any
particular man

you're referring to?

Oh, I wouldn't want
to speak out of school.

Course you wouldn't.

I think Teri
was having an affair.

A very handsome man
used to drop by a lot.

Always when Oliver
wasn't home.

Before he lost his job,
of course.

Could you describe him?

Oh, I can do better than that.

My, uh, friend Sheila
lives over on Oxford.

She refused to believe me
when I told her

that "Saint Teri" was
entertaining a gentleman caller.

So I took this picture as proof.

Hm.

Like I said:

handsome, right?

His license plate is
particularly fetching.

I'm sorry, I'm...
I'm just... I'm stunned.

Teri was an...
she was an amazing person.

She volunteered here
from the very beginning.

Please.

In that time and with her help,
our organization

raised money to collect
and destroy over one million

undetonated land mines.

She was as passionate

about our cause as
anyone I've ever known.

Is that all that she
was passionate about?

Uh, I'm not sure
what you're asking.

Intercourse.

Were you and Teri
having it?

I assume you're referring
to the conversational variety.

No, I meant fornication.

The insertion of part A into part...
Mr. Silver,

we are not here

to judge you.
Perish the thought!

No, we're just... simply
inquiring if your time

with Mrs. Purcell
involved coitus.

No. It did not.

Her neighbor seems to be
under the impression it did.

She said you had a habit of visiting
when Teri's husband was away.

Well, I visited when he
was there, too.

Oliver was a friend;
I've known him

for as long
as I've known Teri.

Can you account
for your whereabouts

between 9:00 and midnight
last night?

Yes. A friend and his wife
had me over for dinner.

Why?
We'd just like to call and confirm.

So, if you
wouldn't mind.

Okay.

I don't really care what
you think about me,

but you got the wrong
idea about Teri.

She was as devoted
to her family

as she was to this foundation.

She was, without doubt,
one of the finest human beings

I've ever had the pleasure
of knowing.

Another suspect,

another alibi.

You're angry because that man
and the husband could prove

they didn't commit a murder?

I'm angry because I've
run out of suspects.

At least, for
the time being.

I really liked
that one, too.

Oily.

He helps run a charity
that dismantles landmines.

John Wayne Gacy
gave his time

to several charitable
foundations.

Does that make him
a good person, too?

So, that was the captain.

He talked to head of security
at Teri Purcell's hotel.

Now he said they had
a prostitution problem recently.

Some guests got solicited
in the hotel bar and complained.

Now, Teri cracked down,
cleared out the working girls.

A few weeks later, she gets some
threatening anonymous calls.

Probably from
their pimps.

Yeah, I'm gonna
head to Vice,

see who might be running
hookers at high-end hotels.

You want to come?

I appreciate the
offer, Detective,

but I've just realized that
Watson and I have a thing.

All right.

Mm.

A thing?

Why go to Vice to
explore the problem

when we can go
directly to the source?

Tell me, have you ever
been whore-fishing?

Her?

Too obvious.
Too intoxicated.

High-end escorts

are more polished, discreet.

Mark my words. No one
is going to take you seriously

as an investigator if
you can't spot a fille de joie

at 20 paces.

What is the point of this again?

As Detective Bell suggested.

If Teri Purcell ran afoul

of the working girls
in her establishment,

it may well have led
to her death.

Who better to fill in the holes,

as it were,
than the strumpets themselves?

Teri Purcell is the one

who put a ban on them
in the hotel.

And how do you know
any of these women are...?

...are call girls?

When the cat's away,
the mice will play.

In this case, the cat
got his skull caved in.

The mice are
the prostitutes.

I get it. I just think

your mouse hunt
is a little misogynistic.

Not misogynistic.
Anthropological.

The species we are
looking for is attractive,

well-dressed,
quick to laugh,

and highly-skilled at
spotting out-of-town men

whose desires are not
being fulfilled at home.

Like her.

Excuse me.

Might we offer you a drink
and some company?

Oh, a drink
would be lovely.

Excellent.
Now that's out of the way.

My friend and I were
wondering what you might charge

to sleep with us.

Just kidding.

We work with the police,
and, uh, we were wondering

if you or any of your fellow
working girls might know

who killed the manager
in the hotel last night.

Oh, I'm sorry. I think that
you have wrong idea about me.

Do I now? I know your clothes--

they say
sophisticated businesswoman,

but the faint line
across your thighs says

garter belt
with stockings.

And you've made
meaningful eye contact

with almost every unattached man
in here, even the paunchy ones.

Now, should I alert

security to your presence,

or would you mind
just-just answering

just a couple of questions, hmm?

What do you want
to know?

As I said, the manager of the
hotel was killed last night.

We're investigating
the possibility

that one of your managers

may have had something
to do with it.

Why would any of those guys
want to kill Teri?

So, you knew her?
Of course.

We all did.
But trust me,

none of our managers would
ever lay a finger on her.

Not in a million years.

How can you be so sure?

Because... she was the reason
that most of us worked here.

We were told that
she-she chased you all out

because some of the
hotel guests complained.

Oh, she just helped us
to keep a lower profile.

She would sneak us
in the back,

put us up in the service
elevators to meet the clients.

She wanted us here.

Now, if you two decide
you ever do want a date...

call me.

I think
we'd have some fun.

So far, every hooker
we've talked to has said the same thing.

Ever since Teri Purcell
took over the hotel in '09,

she's been arranging
dates with rich businessmen

and diplomats that were
visiting from the UN.

Couple of months ago,
someone started complaining

about the prostitutes
in the lobby.

So she started moving them
through the laundry area,

where she'd sabotaged
the security cameras.

When their
business was complete,

she'd sneak 'em back out.

Now, get ready
for the weird part.

She did it all for free.

You're saying she was
a volunteer madam?

According to the girls
who worked there,

yeah-- their pimps loved her.
What about

the threatening phone calls
she received?

They say that they came
from the one girl

that she did have to ban.

The girl got high in the lobby,

made a scene,
so she had to cut her off.

We tracked her down.

She's six months
into a bid for possession,

so she's not our killer.

Wyatt? Excuse me.

I don't get it.

Why would Teri Purcell
risk her career

to run a non-profit brothel
out of her hotel?

House of secrets,
that place.

Perhaps it warrants
a second look.

You know, it occurs to me

that once you've accepted
my offer of an apprenticeship,

you should probably
start taking notes.

I'm not becoming
your apprentice.

No, of course not.
Not in an official capacity.

More likely
you'll peddle some fiction

to my father about me not
being ready to be alone yet.

Hmm? Whatever your
pride dictates,

I shan't hold it against you.

You know I'm not staying, right?

What? And continue
your journey to profound

professional satisfaction?

Why would you?

What are you doing?

Secret compartments have been
a part of cabinet-making

since the Age of Enlightenment.

You know, I once spent
a thrilling afternoon

examining
a Queen Anne secretary

with no fewer
than 25 hidden caches.

What is it?

Well, it's a compact,
but it's...

it's a very heavy compact.

It's not even Teri's shade.

She's much more of a winter.

Hmm.

See here...

wireless connector.

And with this,
Teri could

sign in to an entirely
private network.

Hidden cameras.

Nine hidden cameras.

Well, I think I've worked out

how Teri was profiting

from her arrangement
with the hookers.

Blackmail.

It would explain why Teri
allowed the prostitutes

to work at her hotel, but never
took a cut of the money, hmm?

She gave them access,
arranged their dates.

They gave her
the opportunity

to capture guests on film
in flagrante delicto.

Well, if you're right,
that means every guest

she ever blackmailed is a
potential suspect in her murder.

Correct.

You said you found a couple
of thousand hours of footage?

The cameras ran 24/7.

Unfortunately, there
are no time stamps

or references
on the videos.

Which means, it'll
probably take forever

to identify the guests
who performed

blackmail-worthy
acts on tape.

I'm gonna need teams

working on shifts to
get through it all.

It's gonna take days.

Not necessarily.

Do I even want to know

what happened?

You haven't missed a thing.

More yak than shack so far.

Curiously, many of these videos

are entirely prostitute-free.

I meant the garbage.

Borrowed our neighbor's bin

to test your theory
about physical mess

and its correlation to relapse.

I've been sitting here
for hours,

and I haven't felt
any additional temptation

to use drugs.

We'll see how I am
in the morning.

Hello?

Is-is this Miss Watson?

Yes.

Hi. It's, um...
it's Carly Purcell.

You-you gave me your number
the other day.

Yes.

I'm glad you called.

Is everything okay?

Yeah-- yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I haven't taken any pills
or anything.

I just...

I-I just needed
to talk to someone.

Okay. Well, I'm here.

You sound upset.

You know what?
I-I don't even know you.

This was stupid. I-I...

No. I told you to call me

if you wanted to talk,
and you... and you called.

Just...

My-my mom.

I don't know.
The way she was.

She... she's not...
she's not what people thought.

What do you mean?

Carly, tell me where you are,
and I will come and meet you.

I'm really sorry,

but I... I've got to go.

Hey.

I thought you'd still be looking
at that secret camera video.

I finished an hour ago.

But it turns out,
the photographs

hidden in Mrs. Purcell's
computer

are far more interesting.

So, Teri had
dirty pictures, too?

Uh-uh.

Wait. It gets better.

I know what you're thinking.

Innocuous. Mundane.

But each of these
stultifying images

contains almost
a gig of memory.

That's enormous.

Mm. That's steganography,

the science of embedding
hidden messages in plain sight,

security through obscurity.

So, you're saying that Teri's
picture files are so large

because she has content
hidden in them.

Mm. Luckily, I have
a decryption program

that should unlock
the coded data

in a matter of minutes.

Carly called me

last night.

I didn't mention it

because she confided in me
the other day.

About her drug use?

I overheard a snippet
of conversation

while I was questioning
her father.

It didn't seem relevant.

Has it become relevant?

Well, she did mention something
about her mother

not being the person
that everyone thought

she was.

I must warn you, Watson.

Whatever's on these videos
is likely

to be the vilest
and most startling material

that Mrs. Purcell
gathered,

so you might not
want to watch this.

Okay.

Wow. Yeah, I don't know how

I'm ever going
to unsee any of that.

Shh.

What? What, who
are you calling?

Captain Gregson.

We need to go back to the
Purcell home immediately.

Why? Because some French guy
is putting on too much deodorant?

It's not what the people
in these videos are doing,

Watson, it's what
they're saying.

You're quite good,
you know that?

You really had me
going the other day.

Beg your pardon?

Your accent,
your attire,

your décor-- it all virtually
screams "average American."

Except you're
neither, are you?

Someone want to tell me
what the hell is going on here?

Yeah, you're a... a spy.

So was your late wife.

What?

We have a warrant to search
your home, Mr. Purcell.

Based on what?

Based on your secret videos

that your wife made with
her "globally relevant" guests.

At first I thought
she was using them

as blackmail--
why else would she

facilitate a prostitution
ring in her own hotel

and collect
none of the profits?

Now I have the answer.

The escorts made
the hotel popular

amongst international
power brokers,

foreign businessmen,
diplomats visiting

the nearby UN--

only it wasn't
their bad behavior

that Teri wanted
caught on tape,

it was their
information.

I imagine that
while she was

collecting intelligence
from her place of business,

you were doing the same
at your financial consulting firm?

I was fired months ago.
No. You resigned.

Your firm recently signed a contract
with the Department of Defense.

The DoD would have
required a thorough

background check on everyone
that worked at the company.

You knew your legend
wouldn't hold up

to that level of scrutiny.

"Legend"?

The elaborate
and utterly false identities

provided by your
Russian spymasters

for you and your wife
to pass as American citizens.

Oh, so now I'm not only a spy,
I'm a Russian spy?

You made a point
of stepping out

to shake hands the other day.

It's bad form
in Russian culture

to shake hands
beneath the arch

of a doorway, is it not?
Then there were

the coins that your wife left
lying around in her office.

In Russian folklore,
money goes to money.

Leaving coins out is
a way of inviting good

fortune into your life.

Didn't quite work out for her,
though, did it?

Listen to me.

If what happened to Teri

had anything to do
with her spying,

now would be
the time to tell us.

I want a lawyer.

Yeah, I would expect
that you would.

Just got off the phone
with the Feds.

They're on their way down.

Can I question
Oliver now?

This is a joint investigation.

NYPD handles the homicide;
FBI handles the espionage.

The homicide and the espionage
are the same thing.

We wait. As it is, we're lucky
they're letting us sit in.

Oh, yeah, by all means,
let's express our gratitude

to the lurching,
inept bureaucracy

that is preventing us
from questioning a suspect

who sits not
ten feet away!

Oh, good, you're here.

He's doing
his tantrum thing.

I've been trying
to get ahold of Carly

since I heard you
picked up her father.

Has anyone heard from her?
Well, she wasn't home

when we went
to pick up Oliver,

so we left a uniform
at the house.

She's 17 years old
and she's in crisis.

Her mother was just murdered,
and she's about to find out

that both her parents
are Russian spies.

We need to find her.

She's right.
Carly could be

in danger, especially if she
was part of her parents' operation.

I talked to this girl--
she is a confused teenager,

not a sleeper agent.

And now she's alone.

Spies are never alone.

They have handlers.

And I know you probably have

some figure in the back
of your mind for how much...

I was wrong about you, Geoffrey.

What?! We're in a meeting here.

Ladies and gentlemen,
kudos to you

for your attraction
to such a worthy cause.

The fact that
I'm about to demonstrate

that Mr. Silver is
actually a Russian spy

should by no means
discourage you from giving,

and giving generously.

I don't know what the hell
you are talking about,

but all three of you
need to leave.

You provided Oliver
and Teri Purcell

with cash, cover,
resources,

ferried their stolen secrets
back to Mother Russia,

all under the guise of your
international charity work.

Quite a brilliant cover,
actually.

That is the craziest thing
I've ever heard.

Is it? Well, we know that
Teri Purcell was working as a spy,

and she was passing
video recordings

hidden behind mundane photographs
via steganography.

It just so happens one
of those photographs was

open on your desktop

two days ago.
Do you mind if I pull it up

so I can show Detective Bell?
Yes. Abso...

No, I do; I do mind.

Would you get him
out of here?

I'm quite happy
to leave by myself, actually.

Just tell me everything you know
about who killed Teri Purcell.

Oh, my God, I don't
know who killed Teri.

Now, if looking
in my computer

is gonna get you to leave,
then fine, go ahead.

Thank you.

It's no longer there.

Obviously, someone

just scrubbed it clean.

If you're convinced
that I'm a spy...

arrest me.

Otherwise,
you got to go.

Captain Gregson,
how may I be of assistance?

Oliver Purcell's agreed
to talk to us and the FBI.

I told the Feds we wouldn't
have found the guy without you.

They said you could
sit in, all right?

Our handlers thought we'd
work well together as a couple.

Not because
we were in love.

Our relationship

was never romantic, it was...

a patriotic transaction.

But Carly is
your biological daughter,

correct?

That was two operatives
obeying orders.

We started having sex when
we were urged to conceive.

Stopped when
Teri got pregnant.

Once we had Carly, we...

looked more like
a real American family.

But...

you can't raise a spy.

Teri and I found ourselves
with a daughter.

I may not have loved Teri,

but we both loved Carly.

When did you initiate her
into the family business?

Come on, Mr. Purcell,

the Russians invested
a great deal of time and money

into your family--
they must have had

a plan for Carly.
They did.

But I worked 20 years
for the SVR,

living a lie.

I wanted more for my daughter.

You and your wife

see eye to eye on that?
No.

Teri wanted
to tell Carly.

To Teri, serving Russia
was still the highest calling.

That's got to be a hard
disagreement to resolve.

It was.

And so I... threatened
to expose the operation.

Said I'd take my chances
with the U.S. Government

before I let the SVR
use my daughter.

That was enough
to shut Teri and Geoffrey up.

Geoffrey Silver,
your handler?

Hm.

I believe that
constitutes a positive I.D.

on Mr. Silver's
involvement in espionage.

Look, I don't know
who killed Teri,

but I'll plead guilty
to the rest of it,

tell you everything I know,

but only if you
leave Carly alone.

She's innocent.

Put that in writing,
and I'm yours.

Hey, Carly.

Are you okay?

I was coming home last night

when I saw the police
taking my dad away.

What's going on, Ms. Watson?

He's just answering
some questions right now.

D-Do they think he had
something to do with my mom?

'Cause he didn't!

Okay, tell me where you are,

and I'll come
and meet you, all right?

Thanks for meeting me.

It's been a rough couple
of days, you know?

Of course. I get it.

Carly, you said
the other night

that your mom wasn't who
everyone thought she was.

Did you know
she was a spy?

And your father, too?

How long have
you known for?

My mom told me
a few days ago.

That's a lot
for anyone to process.

My father shouldn't be
under arrest-- it's my fault.

You can't take on
your parents' mistakes.

You don't understand.

I'm the one who's responsible.

I killed my mother.

I, um, I got
my letter of acceptance

from Michigan that day.

Full athletic scholarship.

The first thing I do
is call my mom,

'cause I figured she'd be
as thrilled as I was.

It's okay, Carly.

Just try to tell us
what happened.

She just...
she sounded weird.

She told me that I had to go
straight to the hotel, and so I did.

And when I got there,
she told me that Michigan

was out of the question,
that I was going to Georgetown,

and... and I didn't understand
why she was being so insistent.

But then she
explained why.

She told you the truth about...
her and your father?

At first, I thought
it was a joke.

Like, Russian spies?

We-we live in Westchester.
We have a minivan.

But it wasn't a joke.

Every-Everything my parents
had told me was a lie.

Odd that your father
wasn't there, as well, no?

She told me that we had to
keep it between the two of us.

That he wouldn't understand,
and so,

it was really important
for all of us

for me to do
exactly what she told me to do.

Did she threaten you?

She told me there were people
out there who could hurt us.

And I figured that they were
the people she was working for.

Why was your mom

so intent on you going
to Georgetown?

She said they have
the better government program.

She said that a degree

from there would
really mean something.

I guess, after college,

I was supposed to get a job
in Washington, or...

Where you could operate
as a second generation agent.

U.S. national

who could penetrate
the corridors

of government power

and gain access
to information she never could.

She had my whole life
planned out.

She wanted me to give up
everything I ever wanted

for a country I'd never
even seen, so I said, "No."

I said no to Georgetown,
no to spying.

I was going to Michigan,
I was going to play soccer.

I just... I...

I'd fought back from too much
not to follow my dream.

I-I told her

that I'd go to the police
if she tried to stop me.

I told her that-that

I'd tell them
about her.

But then, as I was leaving...

she grabbed me, and...

I-I don't know.
I was just...

I was so freaked out that...

I-I guess I just...
I guess I just

shoved her.

I called her name
a couple of times,

but she just lay there. She...

That's-that's when
Mr. Silver came in.

Geoffrey Silver?

He told me that he was
my mom's handler

and that-th-that

I was in a lot of trouble.

He told me that...

if I didn't go right away

I was gonna go to jail and I was
never gonna see my dad again.

I-I was... I
was so afraid, I...

My dad was all I had left,
and I just...

I didn't know what to do,
so I went home and...

I didn't say anything.

Whatever-whatever else

you think my dad did,

he didn't kill my mom.

I did.

I'm very sorry.

But I can neither confirm
nor deny anything

Carly Purcell may have told you.

'Cause you don't

want to be charged as
an accessory to murder?

And because I don't
recognize your authority.

Finished playing the part
of the American citizen, I see.

You know you're going
to jail either way, right?

Oliver Purcell's given the FBI
enough to put you away

for the rest
of your natural life.

Did I say something
funny to you?

I'd be very surprised
if I spent more than a week

in one of your jails.

People in my alleged
line of work

don't tend to be locked up.

We tend to be traded.

The U.S. government
is probably

perusing a catalogue
of political prisoners

they'd like
released from Russia,

as we speak.

Well, then.

I guess we'll just
let the Feds do

whatever it is the Feds do.

Come on.

You ruined
that girl's life.

I must say, Watson,
I'm quite flattered.

It's a lovely homage
to my methodology.

But why apply it to a case
that's already solved?

That door was closed.

Was it?

Look, I just...

Carly Purcell didn't deserve
what's happened to her.

I just thought if I looked at
the evidence one more time...

I don't know.

You could what?
Rewrite history?

She already
confessed.

What is that?

Spaghetti in a mug?

I take it that, uh, there's
still no clean bowls or plates?

How do you deal with...

cases not working out
the way you want them to?

The only promise a puzzle
makes is an answer.

Liking the answer
doesn't factor in.

In our line of work it mustn't.

You're right.

What is that?

Oh, uh, Teri Purcell's
autopsy report

just showed up
on our front doorstep.

Oh, I actually requested
that from Gregson's office.

There's a break

in the fourth metacarpal.

That is a... boxer's fracture.

Resulting from a clenched fist
striking something or...

someone.

You don't think that...

that Teri fought back
against Carly, do you?

She just willingly confessed
to matricide this afternoon.

I doubt she would leave out the
part where her mum fought back.

The pen.

Yeah.

Mr. Silver.

Such a pleasure
to see you again.

You're angry.

You know
the government's working

on one of those deals
you mentioned,

looking to trade you back
to where you came from.

I'm afraid I'm about to bollocks
that all up for you now.

That would be...
impressive.

For the record, Mr. Silver,

you never saw Teri,

you never visited her at the
hotel the night of her murder?

As I explained to your men
the day I met them,

I didn't see her for
the entire week before she died.

Nyet, comrade. Big lie.

You saw her the
day she died.

You came running into her
office when you realized

her meeting with her
daughter had gone south.

You then pressured Carly into
joining the family business,

and you asked her to leave

so you could dispose
of her mother's body.

The only problem was,

she wasn't dead yet.

You had a big decision to make.

You'd just used
her apparent murder

to leverage her daughter
into becoming a spy.

Carly was quite
an asset for you.

A real U.S. citizen.

Not much use in the short term,
but in the long term--

sky's the limit.

I mean, she-she could be

President Purcell
when all was said and done.

Unfortunately, the same could
not be said for poor Teri.

So you decided to...

retire her.

Teri fought
back, though.

She hit you hard enough
to break her hand.

When that didn't work,
she relieved you of that.

Used it to
stab at you.

She only managed
to break it open in her hand.

Nonsense.

Yeah.

I can understand
why it looks that way, yeah.

After all, there was no ink
found at the crime scene.

None on Teri, none on any of
the other linens in the washer.

But then I thought, just because
you can't see a stain

doesn't mean it isn't there.

Are you familiar with
the concept of invisible ink?

Invisible ink?

Yeah. Yeah, trust me.

I know precisely
how ridiculous it sounds.

Might as well have a phone
in your shoe.

And yet, spies like you

have been using
it for centuries.

This pen, for example,
had traces of a type known

as permanent fluorescing ink,

imperceptible to
the human eye,

and revealed only under

an ultraviolet light.

Now, I went to the morgue
this morning,

and I shone Teri's hand
under a UV lamp.

Even after the wash, her palm
was covered in the stuff.

And when she struggled with you,

she got it all
over your clothes.

Captain, if you will?

Exhibit B.

Your Zegna shirt,

raided from your closet

earlier today,
under a warrant.

When I shine a UV lamp on it,

the story it reveals
is as clear as it is compelling.

And that's Teri's handprint
on your shirt.

You didn't just

see her the other night,

you killed her.

You were right
the other day.

The U.S.

would trade a spy
under the right circumstances.

These, however,
are not those circumstances.

A matter of fact,

I see your stay
in the States being extended.

Somewhere along the lines
of 20 to life?

What's going to happen
with my dad?

He's cooperating

with the FBI right now,
in exchange for immunity.

You'll both be placed
in Witness Protection

and get a new start.

I, uh...

I know my mom was asking me
to do something really terrible,

but I loved her, and I just,

I still feel really,
really responsible.

It's going to hurt for a while.

You need to let it.

And if any old
demons come back...

I'll-I'll-I'll call you.

Or I'll...
I'll talk to my dad.

I promise.

Hey.

Listen, if you two
are through,

I can take Miss Purcell
to see her dad now.

Great.

Thank you.

Tough times don't last.

Tough people do.

How's Miss Purcell?

As well as can be expected.

Quite proud of you,
Watson--

your doggedness.

I give you as much credit

for solving this case
as I do myself.

Thanks.

Hm. No wonder you're so keen
to stay on as my associate.

Sherlock...

As I proposed the other day,

we can tell my father
I've hit a bit of a rough patch.

He'll keep the checks coming.

You can continue
to hone your skill.

I took another
job this morning.

I work with other therapists,

and I was referred
to another client,

so I'll be starting
with him next week,

after you and I wrap up.

I see.

I'm usually quite good
with deductions.

Are you okay?

My dear Watson,
whenever am I not?

== sync, corrected by elderman ==