Elementary (2012–…): Season 4, Episode 21 - Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing - full transcript

Previously on Elementary...

Emil Kurtz.

Do I know you?

We have a friend in common,
Morland Holmes.

Oh, uh, nice to meet you.

Morland asked me to find
the mole in his office.

In other words,
he asked me to find you.

What do you want?

Same thing
that VinylVenue43 did.

A mole inside
Morland Holmes' office.

Uh, our next comic tonight--

I just want to warn you--

if you don't laugh,
he might autopsy you.

I'm serious,
but I'll-I'll let him explain.

Please welcome to the stage
Mr. Eugene Hawes!

Thanks. Wow.

This is a good-looking crowd.

Everyone's upright,
no signs of rigor mortis.

I would know,
I work in a morgue.

I'm a medical examiner.

Hey, I thought
you were a comedian.

Um, uh, well, then,
uh, sir, you'd be mistaken.

Look around, this is clearly
a pathologist convention.

You were great!

Four laughs, three groans;
a new personal best.

I have to be honest,
I was nervous for you.

I mean, what's
the worst that could happen?

A lot of these stand-ups
at these open mics

talk about bombing,

but, hey, I've lived
through a real bombing.

People don't want to laugh
at my jokes, I'll be okay.

Are you still going to therapy,
uh, the survivor meetings?

Stuff like that?
Oh, yeah, yeah.

This is just one more outlet.

But I got to say,
it's my favorite.

Feeling a lot better.

Almost ready to get
back to work.

Good. We miss you.

Oh, Sherlock is sorry
that he couldn't make it.

Uh, this girl that
he's been seeing,

it's her birthday.

"Seeing"?

Like, a girlfriend?

Tell me more.

Oh, I wish I could.

It's work.

I have to go.

Thanks for coming.

I'll see you soon.

You better.

Bottom shelf.

Barnaby's Historical
World Atlas.

You know, we don't have to do
this whole secret agent thing.

We could just, uh,
talk like normal people.

That's easy
for you to say.

You're not the one
spying on Morland Holmes.

That's everything I could find

on all our recent
dealings in Russia.

I'm guessing what you're
really after is in the back.

Wire transfers.

He paid off four cops,
two correctional officers,

and a prison warden,
all in the city of Novgorod.

These are all
small sums.

Do you think
they were bribes?

Yeah, I made a couple calls.

There's a manhunt on
for an escaped prisoner

named Ruslan Krasnov.

This guy killed
the wrong oligarch's son

a couple years back,
got sentenced to life.

Last month, he broke out.

Seems Mr. Holmes
wants to find him

before the Russian
authorities do.

How much longer are you
gonna make me do this?

I'll know when I know.

You-you got me digging
into areas I don't belong.

It's too risky.

I'm gonna get caught.

Would you rather
I tell Morland

that you were selling secrets
to his competitor?

Keep it up.

Police! Stop right there!

I said stop right there!

I said stop!

This is foot post 11-02, in
pursuit of a bag-snatch suspect.

Headed west
on Sullivan and Ferris.

There you go.

Smart move, man.
I didn't do it.

Yeah, you can save that
for the judge, man.

I saw you snatch that bag.

No, that's not what I mean.

I didn't do that.

♪ Elementary 4x21 ♪
Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing
Original Air Date on April 17,

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

See you've met Miss Purrdy.

She was meant to be
a birthday present.

Fiona, of course,
loves felines,

but the feeling
was not mutual.

This animal is
particular.

Seems she
likes you though.

She's not moving in,
is she?

No, Miss Hudson seems
quite enthusiastic

about adopting the beast.

I'm dropping her off
later today.

You may unclench.

Oh.

I understand Eugene had a more
successful evening than I did.

Who told you that?

You told an amateur comedian

that I was
in a new relationship,

so he e-mailed me
the moment you left

to get my opinion
on a five-minute riff

he is developing
on the fairer sex.

Wished us well on the new case,
by the way.

The one which dragged you away.

Mmm, it was a white lie.

An old friend called to chat.

I ducked out early.

"An old friend."
You're typically more expansive

after your first hit
of caffeine.

Yeah, well, you brought
a bald cat to breakfast.

I'm a little distracted.

Well, when you recover
your wits, Marcus texted.

There's been
a double homicide in Red Hook.

Join us when you're ready.

Good morning, Detective.

I can think of two guys
who would disagree.

So at first blush,

it would seem that a carjacker
and his would-be prey

opened fire on each other,

but obviously all
is not as it appears.

They both had I.D.

Jared Talt's the driver.

Vehicle's registered
to his company,

Open Road Land Development.

He might have been out here
looking at property.

I don't know.

Butch Callahan, meanwhile,
is an army vet.

He's got a sheet,
but it's just petty larceny

and a few misdemeanor
assaults and discons.

Nothing in the vein

of grand theft auto
or armed robbery?

No, and this wouldn't
just be out of character.

You-you see his belt?

It was put on clockwise.

I think he's a lefty.

And yet the gun is
next to his right hand.

Now, I can think of a few
reasons he might have ended up

with the gun in his right hand,

but the position of Talt's gun
looks funny to me, too.

Guy gets blasted with a .45
from point-blank range,

and then calmly lowers
the weapon into his lap?

You would expect it

to end up somewhere on
the floor of the vehicle.

I think someone else
killed these guys

and made it look
like they shot each other.

Why is CSU using flash

to take photographs
in broad daylight?

They're not.

Crime scene photog
went home ten minutes ago.

Then what's that noise?

What noise?
The noise.

What is that?

If I had to guess,

I'd say it was dropped
in Mr. Callahan's blood,

cracking the lens and causing
the flash to malfunction.

Probably why it was tossed.

Guess he didn't want to walk
away from a double homicide

carrying a strobe light.

Of course, you got to wonder
why he brought a camera

in the first place.

What?

He didn't take
a selfie, did he?

No.

But how often do you get to
see through the killer's eyes?

Camera was brand-new,
only four snaps on it,

all of Jared Talt
and all the same.

Weird thing is

none of them match
what we saw at the scene.

Take a look at the pictures
CSU took this morning.

He was slumped back
like that when you got there?

First responders
didn't monkey with him,

try to check his pulse
or something?

No, we think the killer
moved him. He would have had

to climb into the car to put
Mr. Talt's prints on the gun,

take a shot,
stage all that.

When he was through,
he left the body like this.

There's little doubt
that those steps were taken,

but they don't account
for every discrepancy.

Why pry his eyes open?

That's a good question.

Then again,
there are others.

Why kill two guys

and dress it up
like a carjacking?

Why take pictures of it?

Do we know if there was a
connection between the victims?

Not yet. Right now
I couldn't tell you

if one of them was
the intended target

and the other
was a witness,

or if they were both
victims of a thrill-kill.

Well, we know that
Jared Talt was the one

that the killer was
interested in.

He was the wealthier of the two.

Uh, maybe we should start there,

get some background.

I contacted his wife,
but she was up in Vermont

visiting a sister.

She's driving back
this afternoon.

There's also a business
partner in Westchester.

On Butch Callahan's side,

there's only his girlfriend,
Roxanne Ortiz.

All right, you two
take the girlfriend.

Joan and I will take
the business partner.

Sorry I'm not dressed.

Uh, after I got
the news about Jared,

I could hardly get
out of bed.

Please, don't worry about it.

We're sorry for your loss.

Uh, Mr. Potter,
we were wondering

if you knew the second man
that was killed, Butch Callahan.

This is the guy
who tried to carjack Jared?

Well, we're not entirely
sure that's what happened.

There's a good chance
that, uh, both men were killed

by the same person.

No.

Nope, I've never seen
this man before.

Um...

is this Jared's desk?

Yeah.

A few deals went
belly-up last year.

We could barely afford

a real office,

so about, uh, six months ago,

my house
became our headquarters.

Something like that
can put a lot of stress

on a partnership.

Yeah, it did.

But we were friends first,
partners second.

So what will happen
to your business now?

Usually with
a setup like ours,

assets are divided

between the surviving partner

and the heirs
of the deceased.

Thing is we don't
currently have any assets.

Just liabilities and a lawsuit.

The lawsuit, was it contentious?

Something that could've

made Jared a target?

No.

I don't think so.

We bought this acreage
a stone's throw

from Lake Placid.

Geologists told us there
was big fracking potential.

We were just about to flip the
mineral rights to an oil company

when the governor
banned fracking.

Just our luck, only state
in the country to do it.

The oil company put
the brakes on the deal,

Jared and I got stuck
with this, a white elephant.

So you're suing.

The State of New York, right.

Us and few other businesses.

That is not looking good.

Look, I'm not a big fan of
anyone in the governor's office.

But no, I don't think
any of them wanted Jared dead.

Uh, last question.

We got to ask.

Where were you last night?

I was cooped up here all day,

grinding on a re-fi,

so I went to a Knicks game
to unwind.

Not that they're making
unwinding very easy this year.

I went with friends.

I'll give you their names.

This is the other guy?

Jared Talt.

I don't know him.

I don't think
Butch knew him.

But then again,
what do I know?

Butch was Butch.

A lot of people loved him.

We reviewed his arrest
record this morning.

It would seem that
there were some people

he didn't get along with.

You're talking
about the bar fights.

But that was years ago.

When I met Butch,
he'd come back from Afghanistan.

He was drinking.

He had a really hard time
readjusting.

People do.

But I got him into
a program at the VA.

We were talking
about getting married.

I think he was gonna ask me
one of these days.

That would've been good.

I'm sorry, there's
just a few more things

you could help us with.

There was a gun
found next to Butch.

Was it a .45?
A Colt?

Yep.

That was his dad's.

He would carry it sometimes.

I didn't like it.

But it was the city.

Butch would always say,
"It's dangerous out there."

Looks like it was pretty
dangerous in here as well.

What the hell is that?!

Looks like a bloody shirt to me.

You never seen it before?

What about this one?

No.

No?

Food coloring.

And corn syrup.

That's not blood?
No.

But it is proof
of a conspiracy.

Hi, got your text.
What's up?

I need you to pick out
a shirt for me.

Can you tell which one
of these Jared Talt

was wearing when he
was killed last night?

He wasn't wearing any of them.

None of them have bullet holes.

That's right.

They are otherwise identical
to the one he died in.

They're the same brand,
same size, same color.

What?
Magic Marker--?

What are these?
Failed experiments.

This one was done
with food coloring.

This one with paint.

I found them
in Butch Callahan's rubbish bin.

So, what was he doing
with three different versions

of Jared Talt's shirts
spattered with red?

He was trying to determine

which type of fake blood
was most photogenic.

Ultimate he went with pig's
blood from the butcher's--

a wise, if obvious choice.

The lab already confirmed it.

So that camera you found,

it didn't belong to the killer.

It belonged to Butch Callahan.

He took this photograph
of Jared Talt,

while Mr. Talt was still
very much alive.

That's why his body

was in a different position
when we found him.

Here he was still

quite capable
of moving around.

So they did know each other.

Evidently well enough to engage
in a rather strange conspiracy.

I'm quite convinced that they
were staging a fake murder,

when they fell victim
to two real ones.

So two nights ago,
Butch Callahan

was helping to stage
Jared Talt's murder,

when someone came along

and shot them both for real.

The shooter got Callahan first,

and then he used
Callahan's gun to shoot Talt,

so it looked like the two
of them killed each other.

That's what we think.

Does anyone have
any idea why Talt

would fake his own murder?

Well, we think perhaps
someone wanted him dead

The photographs
that Callahan took

were meant to fool
that individual.

How long can you fool someone
without a body?

Not very.

But think of the scam

the police use to catch people

who want to hire a hit man.

Husband wants his wife dead,

so he contracts her murder.

Only he doesn't realize

he's hired an undercover cop.

Cop takes pictures of his wife,
who looks dead.

Shows them to the husband.

Husband pays up.

Cop arrests him.

So, okay, in this scenario,

Butch Callahan
is the cop, right?

Someone hired him
to kill Jared Talt.

Only instead of going
through with it,

he went straight to Talt
and told him everything.

And instead of going
to the police

and asking them to build a case,

they start doing it
themselves-- why?

We think
that blackmail

was their ultimate goal.

A couple days before he died,

Butch Callahan went
to an electronics store

and bought a pen with
a microphone hidden in the tip.

We figure he was gonna use it
to record the conversation

with the guy who hired him

after the guy got a look
at the fake pictures.

Except he and Talt
never got that far.

The person who hired Butch

must've caught
onto the double-cross.

So he killed Butch
and Jared Talt himself.

So the question is who wanted
Jared Talt dead so badly

that he hired a hit man
to make it happen?

Mrs. Talt is on her way here.

Strikes me as
an excellent person to ask.

I'm sorry again
I couldn't be here yesterday.

But it was good
to be with my sister.

She took care of me.

Got me on the road this morning.

Things were good
between you and your husband?

Of course, why?

Did he have any enemies?

Anyone who might've
wished him ill?

Jared was killed
by a car-jacker.

They shot each other.

So why do you want
to know about my marriage?

Why would you ask
if he had enemies?

Well, since yesterday,

some, uh, new details
have come to light, so...

And our theory about the
crime is a little bit,

uh, fluid at the moment.

There's a chance
your husband died,

because someone
wanted him dead.

I don't get it.

Are-are you saying you think
what happened to Jared was...

arranged by someone?

It's something
we're considering.

That son of a bitch!

Who?

Davis.

Davis Potter,
his business partner?

They've been arguing a lot.

The company's been losing money
for a long time now.

It was affecting me and Jared,

our home life.

I didn't love him any less.

But we had to take out
a second mortgage.

Cash out
our life insurance policy.

We-we sold our boat,

Jared's coin collection.

Even my engagement ring.

Davis, though,
he comes from money.

He has a trust fund.

He isn't married.

And they got
in a huge fight last week.

Jared wanted him to unload
some piece of property,

but he refused.

"Don't push me," he said.

You want to talk to someone
who would've hurt Jared?

You talk to him.

Well, if she's right,

Davis Potter really
is behind the shootings,

he couldn't have
pulled the trigger himself.

His story checked out.

Three buddies and a couple
of security cameras

put him at the Knicks game

at the time of the murders.

Of course they did--
would be a shame to let

such an ironclad
alibi go to waste.

Meaning what?
Well, I imagine the game

was part of the original
plan of Butch Callahan.

Why his partner was being
perforated several miles away,

he's got club-level
seats at the Garden.

When he realized that Butch
was planning to betray him,

he hired a second hit man.

A far more dependable
one, obviously.

Hmm.

Well, so much for catching him
by surprise.

I'll have Marcus comb through
his phone records again.

If he did hire a second gunman,

maybe we'll find
some trace of it.

Keep us posted, will you?

What, you're not coming
back to the station?

We have an appointment to keep
with a private client.

I've, uh, summoned a car
to come pick us up.

I'll let you know when
I get Potter on a leash.

We don't have a meeting
with a private client.

No, we've got business
to attend to here.

Obviously, you want to poke
around in there, but I'm sure

you saw the same alarm sensors
on the windows that I did.

Mr. Potter's security system
is top of the line.

I've defeated that brand on only
three out of 13 occasions,

so breaking in would
virtually guarantee

a visit from the police.

So obviously we should do it.

No, you misunderstand.

I've got no intention
of infiltrating the house.

Did you know, Watson, 90% of
homes with security systems

fail to include sensors
on the garage doors?

Well, I do now.

I saw these through the window.

Thought it might contain data,
which would shed

a more vivid light
on the alleged rift

between Messrs.
Potter and Talt.

Hmm.

I have to go.

Now?
Yeah.

It's my mother.

My stepfather was supposed

to take her to see
her neurologist,

but he's stuck in a meeting
with his publisher.

I've got a car
coming for real now.

I'm gonna meet them
on the corner,

so the driver
doesn't see you.

I'll-I'll call you
when I'm done, okay?

I didn't expect you to ask
for a meeting so soon.

Yeah, well,
this is the last one.

Excuse me?

Yesterday, my assistant
was out sick.

So I asked one of the
secretaries down the hall

to print out a
contract I needed.

And when I found my own
copy later that night,

I realized something
was wrong, look.

These look like
the same document.

Exactly.

They look like
the same document,

but they aren't.

Check the end of the
second paragraph.

There's an extra space
after the period here,

but not here.

It isn't a typo-- I asked
a few other secretaries

for copies of
the same contract.

Every one has that extra
space in a different place.

Mr. Holmes hired you to find
a mole in his office.

You told him
there wasn't one,

but obviously he
didn't believe you.

You think he's fishing.

He marked each copy differently.

So that if the document
was leaked,

he would know
where it came from.

It's more than that.

This morning,
he took me off

of one project and
put me on another.

No explanation.

I think he's onto me.
Emil?

No, we're done.

Because if I keep helping you,
we are both gonna get caught.

Don't contact me again.

Uh, this is new.

Well, actually, it's very old.

It's a 1941 Indian Scout.

Extremely rare
vintage motorcycle.

Can I assume this is
the same vintage motorcycle

that was in Davis Potter's
garage this afternoon?

You know me, Watson; sticky fingers.
Why...

When the contents of
Mr. Potter's filing cabinet

proved disappointing,

I couldn't help but look over
his beautiful motorcycle.

I only meant
to admire it,

so imagine my surprise

when I found this

in the saddlebag.

It's a mileage log.

As you may
or may not

be aware,
antique vehicle owners

often keep records
of their trips

so they can ensure
that maintenance

is performed
at proper intervals.

If you look at
the most recent entry,

you'll see that Mr. Potter

logged a trip of 580 miles
the same day

that Butch Callahan
and Jared Talt were murdered.

Well, he told me and the captain
that he never left the house.

He lied. Presumably
because he doesn't want

the police to know
where he'd been.

Well, there are no destinations
in here, only mileages.

Hence my borrowing
of the motorcycle.

I wanted to know where
he'd been that day.

I've been examining it
for the last few hours,

and I've found
exactly two clues.

First, a geological analysis
of the sediment

in the tire tread has yielded,

amongst other,
more common minerals,

traces of migmatite,
granulite and monzonite.

Secondly...

this was trapped
in the air filter.

An insect wing.

From a Boreal Snaketail
dragonfly.

So how do a dragonfly wing

and some strange
minerals tell us

where Davis Potter
drove his motorcycle?

If Mr. Potter logged a trip
of 580 miles,

the very furthest
he could've driven

in any one direction
is half that amount.

290 miles.

The radius of this red circle

is exactly that distance.

So Davis went to a point
somewhere inside it.

The only area in there
with deposits of migmatite,

granulite and monzonite
and a documented population

of the Boreal Snaketail
dragonfly

is a stretch of forest here,

just southwest
of Lake Placid.

Unfortunately,

it has an area of

20 square miles,
too large to suggest

a specific answer to our query,

but it's a start.
How's your mother, by the way?

Uh... she's fine.

Thanks.
Wait a minute.

Davis said that he and Jared

owned property a stone's throw
from Lake Placid.

So that must've been
where he went.

But why would he lie
to us about it?

I know a way to find out.

So, I walked all the way

to the eastern edge
of the property,

and I did not find a thing.

No dead bodies,

no secret hideouts,

no smoke monster.

There's plenty of mud, though.

I hope,
for Jared's sake,

that he wasn't killed
over just some wet dirt.

What about you?

How'd you manage
to stay so clean?

I never left this spot.

You're joking.

We were supposed to split up.

Have you seriously been
sitting there the whole time?

Yeah.
But... look at me.

Look at my clothes.

I saw a freakin' bear out there.

Did you also see plants
such as these?

Yeah, they're ginseng plants.
They're everywhere. So?

They're not just ginseng plants.

They're old-growth
ginseng plants.

I think this
root system

is somewhere between
ten and 15 years old.

Have you any idea how rare
old-growth ginseng is?

I mean, I know it's expensive.

Try $1,400 a pound.

There are plants as far
as the eye can see.

While I awaited
your return,

I did my sums.

The current value
of old-growth ginseng

times the square footage
of this property

minus the areas occupied
by other visible flora...

Davis Potter
told you

this property was worthless.

I'd estimate its value to be
somewhere in neighborhood of...

$20 million?

Is this some kind of a joke?

Why would I want
Jared dead?

The guy was
my best friend.

Was your friend,

until you paid
to have him killed.

Why would I do that?

Jared dying...
it's going to ruin me.

That's true, but not
in the way that you mean.

Taking on Jared's
share of your debt

wouldn't have been cheap,
but it would've paled

in comparison
to what you'd get

as the sole owner
of your most valuable property.

Which one?

Our overgrown
Putt-Putt golf course

or our condemned warehouse
full of asbestos?

What about the
property you visited

the day Jared
was killed?

Your white elephant
near Lake Placid?

We know it's covered
in old-growth ginseng.

Wh... old-growth what?

Don't.

We made calls to ginseng dealers

all over the state.

We found one,

named Xiang Wu,

who said he'd met you
at the property several times.

You know how much it's worth.

Mr. Wu, however,

was unaware that you owned

the property with a partner.

He says he's been negotiating
with you and you alone.

Jared's wife told us

there was one property you
absolutely refused to unload.

We're guessing this is the one.

See, he didn't know
anything about the ginseng,

so when he pressured you
to sell the place at a discount,

you made a decision.

He had to go.

Okay.

Okay, maybe I was thinking of
screwing Jared out of his share,

but I'm not a killer.

I told you, I was a Knicks game.
We know, we checked.

Your alibi
is airtight.

But the thing is,

the penalty in New York
for soliciting a murder

is the same as if you committed

the act yourself.

You lied when you said

you didn't know
Butch Callahan.

You were both on Scoville
High School's 1989

JV basketball team.
So you hired

your former teammate
to kill your

current partner.

Somehow, you realized
Butch had teamed with Jared

to blackmail you,
so you had them both killed.

That's a grand total
of three counts of soliciting

and two counts of murder.

Look...

you're right.

Okay?

I talked to Butch about Jared.

I gave him
$50,000 to...

help me out.

He was gonna get another $50,000
after it was done.

But everything else
you're saying, no.

I don't know anything
about any blackmail,

I don't know anything about any
second hit man. That's crazy.

Do yourself a favor:

give us the name
of the second guy.

I just told you, I can't.

There was no second guy.

Nobody was more surprised

than I was when they
both wound up dead.

I got an e-mail from Butch

the-the day before it happened.

It'll prove
I'm telling the truth.

"We can meet after it's done.

"There's a bus stop
at Van Dam and 37th.

Bring the money. 2:00 a.m."

It's from an account he created
just so we could talk

about this stuff.

89WildcatPF@odkermail.

"PF" is power forward,

his position
in '89.

On the Wildcats.

Well, that
proves that your friend

is terrible at dreaming up
digital aliases,

but as far as exculpating you
from the murders, it doesn't.

You don't get it.
I went to that meeting.

Why the hell would I do that
if I knew they were both dead?

I swear.

I sat on a bench

for two hours

with $50,000
in a bag at my feet.

When Butch never showed, I left.

Somebody there

had to have seen me.

He's right, actually.

If he's telling
the truth,

somebody would've.

The captain
subpoenaed the MTA

for the on-board
camera footage

from all three buses
that passed that stop

between 2:00 and 4:00 a.m.
the night of the murder.

He wasn't lying.

At least not about this.

Looks like he waited
at least two hours

to pay Butch off.

It's hard to imagine
why he would do that

if he really did hire someone
to kill Butch and Jared.

So, aside from knowing
that he'll go to prison

for soliciting a murder,
we're back to square one.

Or-or perhaps square two.

Aside from Davis Potter,

does anything else
look familiar to you?

"Crystal Radio."

I've seen
those posters before.

Yes. That's because

they're plastered
up and down the block

where Butch and Jared
were slain.

Okay, but bands slap those
things all over the place.

Some do; others have it
done for them.

So they thought
the two locations

were well-chosen.

Other than the bus passing
every hour or so,

they were devoid
of surveillance cameras.

They seemed like good locations
to stage a fake murder

and have an illicit drop.

Question is,
who scouted those places?

Now, when we visited
Butch's girlfriend, Roxanne,

did you notice the shirt
she was wearing?

It's that one,
isn't it?

"Thunderclap 8."

Yeah.

They would appear to be
Crystal Radio's label-mates

at Overmorrow Records.

And look who works
in the promotions department.

Roxanne Ortiz.

She could've hung
those posters.

You think she was in
on the blackmail plan.

Her connection to the two places

might be a huge coincidence,

but given that two men died
at one of them,

I think she deserves more
consideration as a suspect.

You're wasting
your time, you know.

I loved Butch.

You mentioned that
on our first visit.

You did not mention
that you'd been

to the scene of the crime
just a few days before.

I told you, I hang posters
all over the city.

Including the bus stop

where Butch planned
to meet Davis Potter

and gather blackmail
materials against him.

I can't explain why Butch
did what he did, okay?

Maybe it was because we kept
talking about marriage

and he thought
we needed the money.

But I'm telling you,
he never told me

anything about
a blackmail plan.

If he had, I would've
talked him out of it.

Hey!

You listening now?

Good.

If I was in on it,

tell me why
I would've killed Butch

right before he was gonna
get a bunch of money

from that Potter guy.

Because you saw an opportunity

to commit a murder
at a time and place

where suspicion would not
fall on you and you took it,

because you had another,
more meaningful way

to profit from Butch's death.

What are you talking about?

We're talking about

the life insurance policy
he had through the Army.

Almost half a million dollars.

It was about to lapse last year

when you started
paying the premiums.

You also became
the sole beneficiary.

I did.

Right after I made Butch

the beneficiary on my policy.

Isn't that what people do

for each other
when they're in love?

You find it weird

that I hung posters
in two places,

but you know who helped me?
Butch.

Posting bills
without permission

is illegal, so most of the time,
I would do it at night.

He came with me.

To make sure I was safe.

So he knew about the two
locations, thanks to you,

but you think
he chose them himself?

That would explain
why my posters

were there, right?

It would.

If it's true.

But if it's all
the same to you,

we're just going to continue

having a look around.

Joan.

Good evening.

Did I frighten you?

As a matter of fact, you did.

Sherlock didn't tell me
you were coming.

His communication has been poor

these last few weeks.

I left him a message, earlier.

I explained that I had left
an item in storage here,

and that I wanted
to retrieve it.

But he never responded.

Are you telling me he doesn't
even know you're here?

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

This is Mr. Coin.
He's a member

of my security team.

Do you mind telling me

what he was doing downstairs?

I thought the item in question
might be in the basement.

Mr. Coin was checking.

So he was poking around
in my office.

You do recall who owns
this building, don't you?

Any luck?

Mmm.

Well...

we'll be on our way.

Maybe you could describe this
item that you're looking for.

I could try and
help you find it.

It's good to see you, Joan.

I take it

the girlfriend did not
confess last night.

She offered neither confession
nor alibi, so, consequently,

we will spend the day
sorting through

the flotsam of her sad life
with Butch Callahan.

Oh. Wonderful.

Did your father leave you
a voicemail yesterday?

As a matter of fact,
he did. Why?

Did he say he'd left
something here in storage

before we moved in?

You gonna tell me how you knew,
or shall I guess?

He was here when I got home
last night; he'd let himself in.

I'll change the locks,
post-haste.

Set a few traps.

Do you think he was
telling the truth

about wanting to, uh,
dig something out of storage?

Why would he not be?

You'll have to continue
without me.

Where are you going?

Marcus has asked me to return
to the home of Roxanne Ortiz.

Did you guys
miss something?

We must have.

She set fire to
the place an hour ago.

There are less dangerous ways
to destroy evidence.

She claims that's not
why she did it.

I wanted to hurt him.

Hurt who?

Butch.

I wanted to hurt Butch.

But he's dead already.

I figured this is
the next best thing.

This is his family home.

He grew up here,
he cared about it.

So I splashed

some gasoline around
and lit a match.

Last night, you eulogized
your great love for him.

I got a call last week
from this realtor in Tahiti.

He said Mr. Taft's money still
hadn't come in over the wire.

I thought it was
a wrong number,

but this morning,
the same guy called back,

saying he received the money,

and the condo was all lined up.

The condo.

Where Butch was running away to.

He was leaving me.

You think he bought
property in Tahiti

under an assumed name

and was gonna move there
without you?

The guy said he'd been assured

that the condo would
only have one occupant.

And when I asked him how much
money Mr. Taft had sent,

he said 25 grand.

Exactly half of
what you told me

Butch got for saying
he would kill the developer.

I was telling you
the truth last night.

Butch never
said anything

about his stupid
blackmail plan.

He kept it from me.

Now I know why.

He was gonna go be "Myron Taft"

in Tahiti.

Myron Taft?

Yeah.

Ms. Ortiz, I don't think

your boyfriend was a...
very good man,

but I don't think he was
planning on leaving you.

Nor do I think you murdered him.

Marcus...

You get that she just
gave us motive, right?

I do.

A very strong motive.

It just isn't hers.

Can't you just say
"I told you so,"

like a normal person?!

Oh, I can't hear you over
the Tahitian nose flute.

You were right, okay?

I just got off the phone
with Island Breeze Properties.

Were you able
to identify the realtor

that called Roxanne Ortiz?

It wasn't
a wrong number.

"Myron Taft's" application

to lease a condo Papeete

came with a deposit
from Butch's bank account.

I asked the realtor to describe

the driver's license
they had on file.

It was Jared Talt, to a T.

Or, more accurately,

It was Jared Talt to an F.

Passable
forged IDs--

difficult to come by,
very expensive.

Perhaps he doctored
his own papers

before he ran out
on his wife and disappeared.

So Butch was just doing
his new pal a favor,

helping Jared
keep her in the dark.

Clearly, it didn't work.

I know Roxanne Ortiz
does not exactly dispel

the myth of the woman scorned,

but why do you think Ida Talt
is behind the killings?

I mean, she was
in Vermont, right?

Not unless they moved the
Battery Tunnel to Montpelier.

Captain just sent this over.

She was spotted

paying a toll in the city
one hour before the murders.

Someone's got
some explaining to do.

Too early to turn screws
just yet.

Lying about an alibi is
one thing, motive is another,

but proof-- that's
something else entirely,

and that, we don't have.

No.

But I think I know
where we can find some.

You lied to us,
Mrs. Talt.

You weren't in Vermont
with your sister

when Jared died;
as a matter of fact,

it looks like you were in

the same borough
where he was killed.

It's actually not unusual

for people to lie
about their whereabouts

when their spouses
are murdered.

Everyone knows
that the police take

a hard look at the
husband or the wife,

so when they don't
have an alibi,

they cook up a false one,

even when they've got
nothing to hide.

But that's not
what happened here.

So you're accusing me?

Your husband was planning to
blackmail his business partner

and leave his life behind.

You had every reason
to feel betrayed.

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

Jared never would have left me.

No, he would have.

You just never
gave him the chance.

We don't presume to know
all of the secrets

of your marriage.

We don't know, you know,
what you knew

or how you came to know it.

Somehow, you had knowledge

of Jared and Butch's plan
to stage a fake killing.

You saw your chance.

You followed them

to the site they had chosen.

Brought a gun with you.

You shot Butch first,

but not before you realized

he had a weapon of his own.

You got a little too cute

when you decided
to stage the scene

as if it was a carjacking
gone wrong.

'Cause that meant
there had to be

gunshot residue on their hands

and you had
to take care of that,

plant the weapons...

The thing is,
you used Butch's right hand

to fire his gun.

And he's left-handed.

No.

I don't know where
you're getting this.

Right here, actually.

What is that?

Broken auto glass.

I don't understand.

You lied

when you said that you
sold your engagement ring

'cause you couldn't
make ends meet.

You just damaged it

when you climbed
into your husband's car

to fire his gun.

The recoil knocked your hand

into the window frame,

jarring the diamond loose
from your ring.

Jared's car was placed
in impound several days ago.

The interior was covered
with that pebble glass,

so you can imagine why...

nobody noticed this.

I didn't realize.

I woke up the next morning
and it was gone.

I didn't know where it went.

What are you doing?

Things did not work out between
Ms. Hudson and Ms. Purrdy,

so I'm posting an ad

that I hope will deliver
the animal to an owner

less likely
to leave Greek manuscripts

in places
they might be befouled.

And you're using Marcus'
computer because...?

He's out.

He was called to the scene
of a shooting.

So I was told
by Detective Nash.

The details are
still coming in.

If you go home,
I wouldn't get too comfortable.

Our presence
might be requested.

That is assuming, of course,
you don't have any

last-minute plans
with parents or old friends.

Yeah, I'll keep an eye
on my phone.

Marcus Bell, Major Case.

What do we got?

Robbery gone bad,
sounds like.

The cook was back there
when it happened.

Kept his head down,
but he heard the whole thing.

Apparently, the guy
wanted the cash drawer.

So he shot two people?

Four. We just
took two more

over to St. Bede's.

One woman was unconscious.

I don't think
she's gonna make it.

Anyone see which way he went?

No. He emptied the till

and just strolled out
like it was nothing.

That's all we know.

That's one
cold psycho.

To do all of this

for a couple hundred bucks.

Uh, you're gonna help me
till the cavalry arrives.

I'll check I.D.s,
you take notes.

Yeah.

First victim: Emil Kurtz.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man