Elementary (2012–…): Season 2, Episode 6 - An Unnatural Arrangement - full transcript

I present to you

the human condition
in all its sordid glory.

It's a bunch of guys in a cell.

We have a finite number
of Friday nights in our lives.

Why are we spending
one of them here?

Because it's Friday night.

This is when the holding cells
are at their busiest.

You have before you

a gilded opportunity to sharpen
your deductive prowess.

Each one of these men,
whether they realize it or not,

is telling you the story
of how he came to be here.

It's written in their bearing,
on their clothing.

Look at the guy, then tell you what
they did. There's like 20 people in here.

You find that intimidating?

Plaid shirt, very nervous,

obviously never been in jail before.

Keeps fiddling with his wedding ring,

feeling guilty about something, probably
the hooker he picked up earlier.

Popped collar,

drunk and disorderly.

That one's a layup.
Tattoo guy is, uh...

- Would you like a hint?
- No.

His crime involves a litter
of Yorkshire terriers.

I said I don't want a hint.

This could take a while.
I'm gonna get a coffee. Do you want?

No.

Hey.

Can you do me next?

Gotta warn you, if you hit latte,
you won't recognize what comes out.

Ha-ha-ha.
I just got a coffee, thanks.

I'm Craig Basken.
I work a lot of nights.

Joan Watson.

- You're one of the consultants, right?
- Yeah.

You work with the guy
with the socks.

Listen, I know you guys work the stuff
that Captain Gregson calls you in on,

but I caught this string of robberies
in the West Village.

Someone's knocking over
falafel carts,

and it's not the crime of the century
and it shouldn't be that hard to clear...

- But you're stuck.
- Yeah,

so I thought maybe I'd hit you up,

get another perspective.
I hope that's not too much to ask.

No, it's not a problem. Sherlock and I
would be happy to take a look.

I said hi to that guy once, and he said
that I interrupted his train of thought.

He called me a bell-end,

so I was thinking maybe
you could have a look, just you.

Um...

- Sure, yeah.
- Great.

- I'll just grab the case file.
- Okay.

Hi, honey.

It's your mom.

I'm calling, again.

Just wondering if you're gonna call me
back before the end of the semester.

I hope you're having a great time.
I love you.

- Where is your husband?
- Aah!

Where is your husband?

My...? My husband? I... I don't know.

Where is he?

911. What's your emergency?

Yes, a man broke into my house.
He was armed.

I shot him. There's blood.

Is he still there, ma'am?
Are you safe?

I think he's gone.

Okay, he said that he came
for my husband.

You have to make sure
that he's okay.

Where is your husband now?

He's working, I think.
He's with the 11th Precinct.

Your husband's a police officer?

He's the captain there.

His name's Tommy Gregson.

She's back in the kitchen, captain.

You're okay.

Are you okay?

Yeah.

Yeah.

I was working out
when I heard the gun go off.

I'm gonna need you to walk me
through everything you remember.

- Is the captain all right?
- Holmes, yeah,

he's fine. He's inside with his wife.
I'm giving them a minute.

- Hey, I said I'm giving them a minute.
- All right.

This is Jim Monroe, he lives across
the street, got a quick look at our guy.

- James Monroe?
- Yes, like the fifth president.

My dad was reading his biography
when I was born.

Anyway, I heard the shots.

I saw a guy wearing a mask
come running out.

He was halfway down the street
by the time I got over here.

Can you describe him?

He took his mask off
while he was running,

but he was almost a hundred feet away.
His back was to me. He had dark hair.

- Wish I could tell you more.
- Sorry to interrupt your doctrine.

You know there's blood on the car
over here?

- Yeah, Cheryl said she hit the guy.
- Doesn't look like he lost much blood.

He could run,
so maybe she just grazed him.

Bell, she's ready to talk.

Just seemed like
it happened so fast.

He was already inside
when I came home, and I...

I don't even know how he got in.

You didn't have the alarm on?

He had this mask on.

I can describe it
to a composite artist.

He had a Glock handgun,
a 21, I think.

He was about 6'2",
maybe 170 pounds,

and I would definitely recognize
his voice if I heard it again.

Now, before tonight,

had either of you two
noticed anything odd?

Cars you didn't recognize,

anyone who seemed
unusually interested in the captain?

- You?
- No.

But I'm not living here
at the moment.

For how long?

For about a month.

Mrs. Gregson,
your mother just got here.

Okay.

Now, look, my wife's the victim here,
I'm the target,

so obviously,
I can't run point on this case.

So let me be clear, I'm not running point
when I tell you

I want a rush on the prints
and the serology.

If this guy's
got a vendetta against a cop,

there's a good chance
he's in the system.

Captain.

It hardly needs saying,

but Watson and I will devote
our full attention to this matter.

We might need access to your files,
personal and professional.

There's a good chance we'll need
to examine your life in minute detail.

You don't tend to shed much light
on your private affairs,

so comfortable with that?

Whatever you need.
Just help Marcus find this guy.

Did you know Captain
Gregson turned down a promotion

that would have made him
the youngest detective in the N.Y.P. D?

He didn't want to work
for Internal Affairs.

He is also, judging by his e-mails,

surprisingly tolerant of forwarded videos
of mischievous kittens.

He never talks
about any of these things.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised.

None of us knew
he was separated until tonight.

I knew. Had my suspicions, anyway.

He's been arriving earlier
in the morning, leaving later,

stopped bringing
home-packed lunches.

If you knew, then why didn't you say
something to him?

Well, why would I?
His work hasn't suffered.

If anything, he's been slightly
more focused.

Quite frankly, I'm surprised
it's taken this long

for the captain's marriage to buckle.

He's an excellent detective.

What does that have to do with it?

Well, as you know,
detection is a calling, not a job.

Hardly leaves one with time left over to
sustain the elaborate ruse of marriage.

Because, of course, you think marriage
is an elaborate ruse.

There are other ways to describe it.

An unnatural arrangement

which forces its participants
into an unhealthy monogamy.

An accretion of petty fights
and resentful compromises,

which, like Chinese water torture,

slowly transforms both parties

into howling, neurotic versions
of their former selves.

Yeah. So anyway,

I found about 20 cases so far
with perps that fit the description

that Mrs. Gregson gave us.

So I'll keep sifting through,
if you want to take a look at them.

Not necessary.

I was fairly certain that listing
the captain's enemies

via reviewing his casework

was a fool's errand.

Now I'm all but positive.

The kind of criminal the captain pursues
tends to be intelligent.

The sort of person who knows
attacking a policeman

is very bad business indeed.

I believe that we are hunting
for a different class of person.

Someone driven by sound and fury.

An idiot.

Someone like, for example,
Dustin Bishop.

There was little of interest
in the captain's inbox,

so I took the time to sift through
his spam filter.

Now, Mr. Bishop has been sending
the captain...

fan letters, I suppose you'd call them,
for quite some time now.

They get more intimate
with the passage of time.

More disturbing.

"Hey, buddy, can I still call you buddy

even though you never write back?

I don't know what your problem is,
but I know I'm getting upset."

- This guy sounds like a stalker.
- Hmm.

Looks like the person to catch a bullet
during a botched home invasion.

Don't you think?

- Good morning, sir.
- Morning.

- Hello, captain.
- Morning.

- Hi, sir.
- Hey.

- Morning, captain.
- Hello.

Please tell me you have some
actual work to talk about.

Yeah. We just heard back
from Latent Prints.

All the prints on Cheryl's car
were hers.

Perp must've had gloves on.

We did get a good DNA sample
from the blood,

but there was no match in CODIS.

I know, not what we hoped for,
but I got a detail together,

and Holmes and Watson
are off running down

some Holmes-and-Watson thing,
so...

- Hmm.
- And I just wanted to say,

I'm sorry about you and Cheryl.

Thanks.

- What else?
- I caught this case,

so I have to be the one to ask,

you sure there's no way
the separation's connected

- to what happened last night?
- Come on.

It's a trial separation.

It's... It's no big deal.

Kids are gone from home now
and everything feels a little different.

Anyway, Cheryl wants some time alone,
I'm giving it to her.

That's the whole story.

- Thanks.
- Okay.

And I'll let you know when we have
anything, all right?

Dustin Bishop.

Would you open the door, please?

We'd like to talk to you about your
correspondence with Thomas Gregson.

You hear the water running?

Yeah.

After you.

He's got a gunshot wound.
He's lost a lot of blood.

Yeah. Thanks.

So that was the hospital.

The doctors pulled a.38-caliber slug
out of Bishop's right shoulder.

He's stable,
but he won't be awake for a while.

Also, we should get the preliminary
DNA results back soon,

we'll know if he's the one
who broke into your house.

We shouldn't waste time waiting.
The DNA won't be a match.

This guy's got my pictures
all over his wall.

The doctors just took my wife's bullet
out of his shoulder.

I don't believe it was her bullet.
I believe Bishop shot himself.

Surely you noticed
the two handguns in the bathroom.

There was a Glock 21,
same as the assailant carried,

and then there was the.38 revolver,
same one used to shoot the attacker.

Why would Bishop shoot himself?

Well, I think he intended to confess
to a crime he didn't commit.

Man is disturbed.

There are anti-psychotic medications
in the cabinet,

they haven't been refilled.

Two guns, a prescription.
That doesn't mean Bishop didn't do it.

No, but the fact that he shot himself
in the wrong shoulder does.

The blood on her car
was on the driver's side window,

had to have been on the left
of the attacker as he fled.

Ergo, the wound
was in his left shoulder.

Bishop shot himself
in the right shoulder.

It's the lab.

Blood's not a match.

It's the wrong type.

Look, I know it's frustrating,

but whoever broke into your house
knows we're looking for him,

he knows we got a protective detail
on Cheryl, on you.

He's not getting violent again.

Name is Sam Clennon.

According to the evidence,
you two have a friend in common.

I've never seen this guy before.

Never even heard his name.

You sure he was killed by same man
that threatened Mrs. Gregson?

Sure? No.

But a security camera
outside Mr. Clennon's building

caught this around 10:30 last night.

I already showed this to Cheryl.
She's pretty positive it's the same guy.

And Clennon was shot with a Glock 21,
just like the gun she described.

Now, if this is our guy,
and I'm thinking it is,

gotta figure this is what he had in store
for you the other night.

Obviously, last night wasn't the first time
someone tried to kill Mr. Clennon.

- No, he's ex-mil...
- Military, yeah.

Shrapnel wounds are a giveaway.

As is the sun damage
to his hands and face. Afghanistan?

He's between tours.
Got back a few weeks ago.

There's an old bullet wound here.

More intrigued by the stab wound.

Most injuries sustained by soldiers
in the Middle East

are from IED blasts or gunshots.

This man has managed
to get himself stabbed.

Almost quaint.

You're sure you never seen
this guy before?

- Never.
- I'm not sure I trust that answer.

Trust it.

It's possible there's a connection

between Mr. Clennon and you,
and you don't remember.

This man's death, although unfortunate,
must be viewed as progress.

We know the killer has an agenda
which is not limited to you.

Watson and I will continue
to pore over your case files.

If we can find a connection, maybe
we can find the culprit. Gentlemen.

We done here?

One more thing.

A dog walker in your neighborhood
called the precinct a little while ago,

said she'd seen
the same light blue pickup truck

parked in front of your house
on at least two occasions last week.

Light blue?

No.

Oh, Detective Basken.

- Hi.
- Hi.

I wanted to let you know
it's gonna take me a few more days

before I can dig into those files,

what with everything happening
with Gregson.

Okay. Um...

Holmes didn't talk to you?

You solved the case that Basken
gave me?

- What's a Basken?
- Detective Basken.

He asked me to look into
a string of robberies.

I brought the files home with me
yesterday.

Oh, yes. That Basken.

I refer to most of the detectives here
as "not Bell."

He told me you e-mailed him last night
with the rap sheet of a guy

that you thought was robbing
food vendors in the West Village.

Basken just picked him up an hour ago,
and he confessed.

I was up late last night,
ruminating the captain's case.

The files were in the study,
and I needed a palate cleanser.

A palate cleanser?

The solution presented itself
rather quickly.

Was I supposed to keep it to myself?

- It was my case.
- In point of fact, Watson,

it was Detective Basken's case.
You were merely consulting. As was I.

I didn't ask you to look into it.

- Nor did you ask me not to.
- No, I...

We live together,
we work together, Watson.

When it comes to cases, there is no his
or hers, there is partnership.

I assist you, you assist me.
What matters is the result.

- Or do you disagree?
- It's not about disagree...

Hey, I just got the contact info
for Sam Clennon's mom.

Thought you might want to come with
me to make the next of kin notification,

see if she can point us toward anyone
who had a problem with her son.

Unless you're in the middle
of something.

No.

We're good.

Hey, guys.

Hot coffee.

Hi. I didn't realize
you'd be stopping by today.

- Is everything okay?
- Mind if we talk inside?

Sure.

Mikey put on some weight, huh?

He was so skinny
back when he was a uni.

I could've stirred my coffee with him.

Have you seen
Steven Accorsi lately?

Bell told me someone saw
a light blue pickup parked

in front of our house a few times.
I was thinking, wait a minute.

I know someone
with a light blue pickup.

He's a friend. Always has been.

A friend,

who's suddenly in the habit
of parking in front of our house.

He came here twice.

The first time, I just needed some help
moving some furniture.

And the second?

I made him dinner.

Nothing happened.

Nothing is going to happen.
Steven knows that.

Yeah.

Well, maybe he's not the person I'm
having a real problem with right now.

I'm sorry.

Do you not know the definition
of the word "separated"?

I can have dinner
with whoever I want.

You said all you needed
was some time.

Were you under the impression

I was going to be
meditating here like a monk?

You never said anything
about seeing other people.

I said that I wasn't happy.

I suppose I should just, uh, go out

and pick up some floozy at a bar.

You want to? Be my guest.

What I want

- is to be with my wife.
- Now?

After 28 years of missed dinners
and weekends at the precinct?

Come on.

When did I ever tell you
I wanted to be anything but a cop?

When did I tell you that I was always
gonna be okay with that?

He made it
through three tours in Afghanistan.

He comes back here,
where he's supposed to be safe,

and gets killed in his own home.

Mrs. Clennon,

we think what happened to your son
may be connected to a break-in

at the home of a New York
police captain the other night.

Does the name Thomas Gregson
mean anything to you?

No.

Sam never mentioned him before?

Never.

Can you think of anyone
who might've wanted to hurt Sam?

No.

Everybody liked him.

Not everyone, obviously.

There was his killer, of course,

but also the person
who stabbed him.

- You know about that?
- Well, I noticed the mark this morning.

I said to my colleagues that I thought it
might not be due to his military service.

- Would that be correct?
- Well, yes and no.

During Sam's last tour, there was this
guy who was having trouble adjusting.

Sam knew how hard deployment
could be, wanted to help,

but this guy,

Jacob,

he was too far gone.
He snapped one day.

He came at Sam with a knife.

- Do you remember Jacob's last name?
- Esparza.

Okay, I'll reach out to the Army,

see if we can't get some current
contact info on Mr. Esparza.

You could try Lieutenant Monroe.

- Monroe?
- James.

He was Sam's commanding officer
in Afghanistan.

He lives here in New York.

The fifth president.

We talked to him outside
the captain's house the other night.

I remember.
Buzz cut, tattoo on his arm.

Did you get a house number?

What?

Your assistant said you'd gone
to see your wife. Still there?

I'm just leaving. Why?

Your neighbor, James Monroe,

you need to take your wife's
protective detail, go to his house.

What? Why?

We now know the connection

between you
and the second victim, Sam Clennon.

Or rather,
we know that there is no connection.

- The killer wasn't after you.
- That's not what he told Cheryl.

No, he told her
he was after her husband.

Never mentioned you by name.

O'Malley, Grell, I need you with me.

Sam served under James Monroe
in Afghanistan. They knew each other.

More importantly, if you enter
Monroe's address into Maps Earth,

a picture of your house comes up.

It's quite common, apparently.

Instead of receiving something
as mundane as a pizza

ordered by your neighbor...

I got the guy
that was coming to kill him.

We need to locate Lieutenant Monroe
before the killer realizes his mistake.

James, it's Tommy Gregson.

I need to speak with you.

You home?

It's important.

The ME thought
he was killed last night,

just a few hours after Sam Clennon.

No prints or DNA
found at the scene,

but those casings
were from a Glock 21.

So you were right.
This was the work of our guy.

Yeah, looks that way.
Now, the good news is,

we think we've identified a suspect.

Name is Jacob Esparza.

He served under James Monroe
in Afghanistan.

So did Sam Clennon.

Height and weight would be in line
with Cheryl's description.

Clennon's mother told us he was
attacked by Esparza in their barracks

about a year ago.

Clennon took a knife to the gut.

Now, the incident report
that Lieutenant Monroe wrote up

pretty much sealed Esparza's fate.

But Esparza says it was trumped up

and that Monroe and Clennon
had it in for him for months.

Also, given the fact
he dropped out of high school

and barely passed his GED, makes him
something less than a Rhodes Scholar,

which makes it less surprising
that he broke into the wrong house.

Mm. Sorry.

It's Crawford and Gleason. They just
picked up Esparza at his residence.

Hey, I know I still can't take point,
but let me know when they get here.

All right.

You need something?

You, uh... You glanced at me.

- I beg your pardon?
- You glanced at me twice earlier on.

Yeah, I do that sometimes when
someone's standing right in front of me.

Yeah, but your glances were furtive.

I was thinking about asking you
something after all this is over,

and then I realized how crazy it was,
so I decided to keep it to myself.

- You know, people can do that.
- Is it something about your wife?

I found out today
that she's seen this guy

that she grew up with
a couple of times.

"A friend."

He's a contractor. He did some work
on our house over the years.

You were thinking of asking me
to investigate him?

I was thinking about
and then I reconsidered,

because like I said, it was a crazy...

Anyway,

it's probably too late.

She and I talked.

I don't think it's gonna work out.

If you should
need someone to talk to,

then, please know I'll...

I'll make Watson available to you.

You see something funny, Jacob?

Just thinking.

Even dead, these guys are still
managing to mess with me.

So you admit you weren't a fan.

No.

You, Jacob, are what we in law
enforcement call a "cool customer."

It's not exactly what I expected
given your military record.

Yeah, probably because you believed all
that crap about me cracking up, right?

There some other reason
you stabbed Sam Clennon?

I proposed to my girl
right before I left for Afghanistan.

Three months into my deployment,

I find out
she's shacked up with my best friend.

Weren't married yet,
but it still felt like adultery.

So when I found out that one of the
guys from my unit was hooking up

with a girl who I knew had a husband
back in the States,

I took that real seriously.

You saying you stabbed Clennon
because he was having an affair?

I called him out
because he was having an affair.

He got physical.

I was just defending myself.

That's not how this murdered man
described the incident in his report.

Course he didn't, because Clennon was
the lieutenant's boy. They were tight.

Can you account for your whereabouts
the last two nights

between the hours of 8
and 11 p.m?

- I was home.
- Can anyone verify that?

No.

If we were to ask you
to take off your shirt,

would we find
any fresh bullet wounds?

I look shot to you?

The individual we're looking for
got winged the other night.

You don't have a wound,
you don't have anything to worry about.

I guess I got nothing to worry about.

You're conscious. Excellent.
We're going to Queens.

Why are we going to Queens?

To visit the home wrecked
by home-wrecker Sam Clennon.

Jacob gave us the name
of the woman

Clennon was sleeping with
in Afghanistan.

Elizabeth Roney. Looked into her.

Turns out, not a fellow soldier,

but an archaeologist overseeing
the excavation of artifacts

from a Buddhist temple.

I'd say her husband had motive
to want Clennon dead, wouldn't you?

Yeah, but why kill Lieutenant Monroe
as well?

As I said the other day,
monogamy is not a natural state.

In Dr. Roney's case, perhaps one affair
was not enough.

Hey. Hey, hey, hey.

Oh, I'm really sorry.

She's sort of a man-hater. Heh.

Goes crazy every time
some guy walks past the yard.

We weren't walking past, actually.
We were walking in.

- Elizabeth Roney?
- Yeah. Beth. Can I help you?

I'm sorry.

This is just a lot to take in.

Sam and I weren't together very long,
but still, it's hard to believe he's gone.

I'm surprised you didn't hear about
what happened on the news.

I've been overseeing a dig in Kabul
the last few days.

Ordinarily, I'd be on site,

but when teaching opportunities
pop up here in New York,

I take advantage of the technology.

These are eight and a half hours
ahead.

So I've been keeping odd hours,
pulling a lot of all-nighters.

Is your Hus...?

Gotham.

Sorry. Like I said,
problems with men.

Hmm. Is your husband around?
We'd like to speak with him as well.

Why would you want
to talk to Cameron?

Sam Clennon, the man you had
an affair with in Afghanistan,

was found dead,
murdered in his home two nights ago.

If you were me, wouldn't you want
to speak with your husband?

Okay, there's been some confusion.

Yes, Sam and I were involved,
but it wasn't an affair.

- Not by a long shot.
- What do you mean?

When we met, I was excavating a site
in Afghanistan called Mes Aynak.

Sam's unit was assigned
as a security detail.

Before I left the States, we were already
halfway through divorce proceedings.

Yeah, technically, we were married,
but we weren't a couple.

Cameron moved to Arizona
to be with his new girlfriend,

and I went to Mes Aynak.

Now that I'm back, I'm even mailing him
some of his old stuff.

Were you ever romantically involved
with Lieutenant James Monroe?

No.

Why would you ask me that?

Look, I wish I could tell you Cameron
was some nut or bad person,

but he wasn't.

Even if he knew about Sam,
which he didn't,

he would not have hurt him.

I found the case file that Detective
Basken gave me right outside my room.

I put it there.

Any particular reason?

You seemed miffed that I'd solved it.

I thought, for your training,
you might want to review the file,

see if the answer presents itself.

I don't want to solve it now. I wanted
to solve it when it was unsolved.

I was only miffed
because I didn't have a chance to...

To figure it out on my own.

As I explained, the essence
of our arrangement is partnership.

Partnership implies equality.

I'm good at this. We both know that.

You've been solving cases
since you were a kid.

I've got some catching up to do.

It takes, what, 10,000 hours
to master a skill?

This file was an opportunity for me
to put some time in.

Now it's not, okay? I don't want
busywork, thank you very much.

I want to be useful.

But you're meditating, apparently.

I'm learning everything I can
about Mes Aynak.

That's the site where Beth Roney
worked with those two victims, right?

Esparza was stationed there too.

It seems to be a crossroads
in this particular puzzle.

Fascinating place.

The remains of several ancient
Buddhist settlements

sit atop the world's
second largest copper deposit.

Six years ago, a Chinese company
was granted a lease to mine the copper,

but they can only do so
once the site is razed.

- They're just gonna destroy it?
- They would if they had their way.

But the plans incurred
quite a bit of negative press,

in response to which
the Afghan government

set up a rapid excavation.

The mining is currently on hold
until 2014.

Anything which is not carefully removed
before then,

will be lost forever.

- But they're beautiful.
- Not beautiful enough, apparently,

to delay access to the world's
second largest copper deposit.

James Monroe and Sam Clennon
were part of the unit

which was assigned to provide security
for the dig,

a hastily-assembled excavation
of priceless artifacts.

- Corners were cut.
- You think they stole from the site?

I'm casting about for motive
where it's proven difficult to come by.

- Was anything reported stolen?
- No.

Which could mean that the robbery
was a phenomenal success.

Or that it never happened.

Watson,

you attempted to work
through the night. Excellent.

- Mm. Did you sleep?
- In brief intervals.

Tea, Tibetan fried bread.

- And the answer we're looking for.
- What is this?

It is a list of every artifact catalogued
at Mes Aynak thus far.

The site contains nine different temples.
They've excavated seven.

In each of those temples,

they have found a carved votive bowl
common to Buddhist temples.

Unique to copper-rich Mes Aynak,

the bowls are adorned
with green copper ornamentation.

Interesting.

Not the answer I was looking for,
but interesting.

They have found a bowl in each
of the temples they've excavated,

except for the last one. The one
overseen by Monroe and Clennon.

In that dig, there's no bowl.

It was thought lost to plunder or time
or shelling, but I believe it was stolen.

Here is a picture of one of the bowls
recovered at the site.

Beth Roney had a bowl
just like this in her office yesterday.

She was working with Monroe
and Clennon.

She prevented it
from being catalogued,

got it into their hands
so they could remove it from the site.

Why would she steal an artifact
then just leave it out in the open?

No one even knows it's missing.

She felt confident enough to hide it

amongst other souvenirs
from her excavations.

She isn't working alone. We know
that a man committed the murder,

so she and her partner are simply
eliminating the other profit participants.

Eat.

Detective Bell is procuring
a search warrant.

Once we've retrieved the bowl,

it should be simple to compel
Dr. Roney to turn on her accomplice

and then we'll have to decide what
to do with the rest of our afternoon.

This is absurd.

I'm a scientist.

I don't steal from my digs.

It was sitting right here.

We got a warrant.
We'll turn this place upside down.

I doubt they'll find anything.

She hid it somewhere
after our visit yesterday.

I hope not, because if she did,
we got nothing on her.

We searched her place
from top to bottom.

There's no trace of the bowl we think
she stole from the Afghan temple.

Well, it was at her house yesterday.
Sherlock and I both saw it.

Well, Miss Roney
says they're mistaken,

and that she had nothing to do
with the murders of Clennon or Monroe.

Obviously, our visit spooked her.

She must have passed the artifact off
to her co-conspirator.

We could check her cell activity,
see which towers carried her signal.

That way we have a rough idea
where she went.

She spent all night
on two video conference calls.

Fifteen archaeologists
on two different continents confirm

she wasn't away from her computer
longer than five minutes.

In all likelihood,
her accomplice came to her,

removed the bowl and all other
incriminating evidence.

Yeah, well, without proof,
we don't have much choice.

We have to let her go.

I'm giving up on meditation.

Because we haven't figured out
who Beth Roney's partner is yet?

We've only been at it
for a couple of hours.

We can't even find any suspects
to evaluate.

She seems to have no boyfriend,
no close friends.

To put a finer point on it,
no friends of any sort.

Her every waking hour
is occupied by work.

Wonder what that's like.

Where'd that come from?

Oh. The attic. It's for you.

It is without doubt
my most loathed article of furniture.

I'm touched.

I was thinking about what you said,
about wanting to improve yourself.

I support the instinct.

But when it comes to investigation,

I cannot restrict myself
to your current pace.

And the trunk
is gonna help me how?

Inside, you will find files
on several cold cases.

My cold cases.

They are the handful of mysteries
in all of my career

which have eluded
my powers of deduction.

So the next time you wish to hone
your skills on a solo venture,

I encourage you to peruse them.

I've already given them my all. Hmm.

So there's little risk that I would arrive
at a solution before you. Heh.

You might even succeed
where I have failed.

Thanks.

Anyway, ahem,

these are Detective Bell's
canvass reports.

Useless.

None of Dr. Roney's neighbors heard
or saw anyone approaching her house

between our two visits.

No one heard anything,

but her partner was there.

Her partner who we know is a man.

You want to get your dog
under control?

No. I don't.

You're not welcome here.
None of you are.

Well, you can do it,
or Officer Dunn here can.

- It's your choice.
- Gotham.

Come on.

So let me guess.
You have another warrant?

We do.
Only this one is of the arrest variety.

What?

We've identified the man who shot
Sam Clennon and James Monroe.

Your ex-husband, Cameron Hecht.

We had the right man
the other day, just the wrong motive.

He didn't kill your old partners
because of a tryst,

he killed them
because he was your new partner.

That's insane.

I told you,
we got divorced over a year ago.

And then you reconciled.

According to him, at least.

- You talked to Cameron?
- At great length.

You told us he was in Arizona,

but a check of his credit-card activity
revealed he was, in fact, in New York.

He had the same look on his face when
we knocked on his hotel door last night.

As soon as we made it clear

how simple it was
to compare his DNA

to the blood droplets he left
at the captain's house, he rolled on you.

He told us about the bowl you stole
and a few other artifacts,

how you thought you could get
over a million dollars for them.

How did we think to look for him?

Well, you have your femi-Nazi hound
to thank for that.

Your neighbors didn't recall
hearing anything unusual

between our two visits,

including the barking of your dog.

Curious.

We know your partner was a man,

and that he'd managed to get in and out
of your home without upsetting her.

So was it someone that she had
grown used to over time,

Or was it someone
that she'd simply never forgotten?

Beth Roney,

you have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used
against you in a court of law.

Come in.

- What's that?
- Background check on Steven Accorsi.

I never gave you his name.

You told me he was a contractor
who'd done work on your home.

I looked at permits
that had been issued...

I told you I didn't want you
doing anything about it.

Well, I wanted to help.

Aside from a few
unpaid parking tickets,

your wife's suitor
appears to be above board.

Sorry if that's
not what you wanted to hear.

No, you keep that. I... I don't want it.

Your wife is aware
that you didn't like him, correct?

Your feelings were clear to her?

Only for the last 30 years, yeah.

Why?

Well, it's just interesting,

out of all the men
she could have entertained,

she chose the one most likely to elicit
a reaction from you.

Maybe she thought I deserved it.

Hmm.

Pictures of you around the house,
it's odd that they're still on display. No?

Well, we haven't told the kids
about the separation yet.

She's just keeping up appearances.

You should know, captain,
I usually cheer the end of any marriage.

As an institution, I think it's outlasted
its usefulness by quite a large margin.

Huh.

And yet I've come to appreciate
the premise of partnership.

It's far more intricate
than I had previously imagined.

The very smallest gesture
can speak volumes.

You're telling me not to give up?

You should never have entered into
the charade that is wedded matrimony.

You had a partner.

Perhaps you still do.

Hi. Who's this? Hi.

Her name's Gotham.

Her owner's
gonna be away for a while.

But I got to warn you,
she's got a thing about strange men.

I had to give her half a roast beef
sandwich to get her in the car.

Oh.
Doesn't like strange men, now I get it.

Hi.

I wanted you to know that...

I understand that this separation
isn't just some...

waiting period.

I put you in second position
for too long.

And you deserve better.

So I'm gonna work to give it to you.

I'm not gonna push.

You need space.

I respect that.

But I'm not gonna throw in the towel.

You take this time,

do what you got to do,

and I'll take it too.

Figure out what I can do better.

Thank you.

Good night, sweetheart.