Elementary (2012–…): Season 5, Episode 10 - Pick Your Poison - full transcript

Previously on Elementary...

A member of a rival gang

was shot and killed
in SBK territory last night.

I didn't have nothin' to do
with what happened to that man.

They also saw
two men who fled.

One of them tossed
a gun as he ran.

I think that one of the men
the police is looking for

is Shinwell Johnson.

I'm not back in SBK
'cause I want to be.

I'm an informant
for the FBI.

He showed me his badge.

You said his name was Whitlock.

Any information
that he gathered,

anything he
did for me

was completely off the books.

If you don't do something,

he's gonna be sent back
to prison.

It's the cloth I used
to wipe the gun.

Hadn't been processed
yet. When it is,

there won't be any prints on it.

It's your second
second chance.

Do make the most of it.

What do you think?

About...?

Table.

I saw it downstairs.

Thought I'd restore
it as a gift.

For you and Doc.

So, it is the one from the...

storage area, in the basement.

Yeah, the top was nicked
in a couple places,

and one of the legs was loose.

But, uh, I fixed it up.

Refinished it, and...

you can hardly
recognize it, right?

What you did for me.

I just wanted to say thank you.

What?

Nothing.

It's just, um...

the table was...
i-it was evidence

in a 78-year-old murder

I was trying to solve.

You're playin' with me.

No, you're not playin' with me.

The Minetta
Chess Club Slaying.

Greenwich Village, 1938.

The table was from the scene.

Took me, um...

Took me a few years
to track it down.

The, uh...

chips were the, uh...

well, it was from
all the stabbing.

No, it's just as well.
Because, I mean,

my progress was very slow, so...
this is going to force me

to look at the case another way.

It's an even more appropriate
gift than you intended, because

I destroyed evidence
for you, and now...

I would offer to break
it in with you, but, uh,

I have to go.

Can you tell the
doc I said bye?

Shinwell is still
engaged with SBK.

He's got two ringtones on
his phone. One for his work

as a handyman,
the other for the gang.

The one I just heard upstairs
was the latter.

Right. Because he's
still gathering Intel.

Agent Whitlock of the FBI
couldn't be more dead.

Even if he wasn't, his goal

was to steal from SBK,
not dismantle them.

Right. But he still wants
to bring SBK down.

By himself?
No.

He knows he needs help,
so he asked me

to connect him with someone
from the Bronx Gang Squad.

You remember
that Detective Guzman?

We helped protect one
of his witnesses once?

When I committed a felony
to keep Shinwell out of prison,

it was so he would
have the opportunity

to get his life straight.

He is getting his life straight.

He's finishing what he started.

You think that's wise?

I think that's
what he wants to do.

Ah...
Listen, he risked his life

to get back into SBK.
They trust him.

He doesn't
just want to waste that.

Did you think he was
just gonna leave town?

I thought he would find
a clever way

to extricate himself
from the gang.

Well, then maybe you should've
talked to him

before you wiped
his prints from that .38.

I should have.
Look,

Guzman and Shinwell are gonna
meet in a couple of days.

If things go well,
he'll be registered

as a C.I. for the NYPD. This
time he'll have real support.

It's Marcus.

He wants to meet me
at the morgue.

We'll talk more
on the way there.

Actually,
he only wants me.

Dead guy's name
is Jeffrey Banks.

Opioid addict.

OD'd on oxycodone.

The 8-7 caught it,
but a buddy of mine there

gave me a heads-up.

DEA's been all over it.

They're considering
criminal charges

against the doctor
who wrote the prescription.

Something about an
online monitoring system,

that it was the doctor's job
to check?

Yeah, it's to make sure addicts
aren't doctor shopping,

getting the same script
from multiple doctors.

So, if whoever wrote
Banks' script

didn't check it, they're liable.

So, how can I help?

So you don't know
this guy, right?

Never seen him before?
Why would I?

Because according to the script
this guy used to overdose,

you're the one who wrote it.

All due respect, Dr. Watson,

considering you're the subject
of our investigation,

there's only so much
I can share with you.

I understand.
But if you're focusing on me,

your investigation
is off to a bad start.

Agent Ritter.
Your boss, Ken.

He tell you how far
he and I go back?

Then give us
some credit.

We're trying
to save you some time.

She didn't write that
prescription for Jeffrey Banks.

Mr. Banks' name
is just one of many.

We've identified multiple
improper opioid scripts,

all bearing your license
and DEA numbers.

Obviously, someone stole
my information.

I haven't practiced
medicine in ten years.

Then why did you keep
your license current?

I asked my partner
the same question.

The answer is simple:
professional pride.

Watson studied for over a dozen
years to become a surgeon.

So, if she's
guilty of anything,

it's of not wanting
to let hard-won accomplishments

fall by the wayside.

I don't know
what to tell you.

It's her name
on all the scripts.

You say we're dealing
with an identity thief,

only I haven't come across
any evidence of that.

We'll be happy
to find you some

if you tell us what you know.
I got another idea.

Don't step on another agency's
toes. Let us do our jobs.

Hey.

How'd it go?

They suspended my license and
sent out an alert to pharmacies

saying that no one should
accept my prescriptions.

Not that I'm writing any.
The act inspires

little confidence
in the DEA's investigation.

It's hard to imagine
a government agency

finding an imposter
when their position

is the imposter doesn't exist.

You holding up?
I'm fine.

I just want to find this person
before anyone else gets hurt.

Thanks for putting in the call.

Keep me in the loop.

Got a sec?
Yeah.

I talked some more
with my friend at the 8-7.

He said the doctor's
address that was printed

on Jeffrey Banks' script
led to a mailbox store.

No security cameras, just
a box rented to Joan Watson.

Phone number's a prepaid cell.

Meaning it could have been me
just as easy as someone else.

As far as the DEA's concerned?
Yeah.

He also gave me this.

That's the pharmacy where Banks
filled the prescription.

It was handwritten,
so they would have

the actual sheet of paper

the imposter wrote on.
If you can talk them

into letting you look,
maybe it'll help.

It's in Hoboken.
Yeah. It makes sense.

Scripts in New York are almost
entirely electronic now.

It raises fewer eyebrows

to fill a handwritten one
out of state.

Plus, that monitoring system
that's supposed

to keep patients
from doctor shopping,

from what I read,
it gets checked

a lot less consistently
between states.

Convincing the pharmacist
to show us the prescription

might be another hurdle
altogether.

You're right. I think it'll
be better if I go alone.

That way, it's one medical
professional to another.

Let me know how it goes.

Can I see your
department directory?

Sure. Who you calling?

There's a detective in the Bronx
I need to speak to.

Thank you.

If you need me again,
all right? Take care.

Detective Guzman.

Hey! Holmes, man.
How the hell are you?

Your squad said
I could find you here.

Yeah.

I know Joan is expecting a call back
from me about her friend, Stonewall?

Shinwell.

I just needed to get through
this court appearance,

and now that I'm clear of
it, I'll be able to meet up with the guy.

Don't.

Don't what?

Don't meet Shinwell.

I thought he was all
dialed in with SBK.

He is.

That's why you should
keep your distance.

I'm sorry,

this doesn't feel right.
The DEA's already been here.

This is part
of their investigation.

You're not even really police.

True, but I'm not asking
as a police consultant.

I'm asking because
I am Dr. Joan Watson.

Which means I either
wrote the prescription,

in which case I know
everything that's on it,

or I didn't write it,
in which case the DEA

could decide to penalize you
for filling it.

I hate to say it,

but it's perfect.

I mean, it's not my handwriting,
but other than that,

I can see why the DEA
doubts my story.

I'm sorry it wasn't more help.

Actually, I spoke too soon.

That J,

it stands for Jingyi,
it's my Chinese name.

I used it for a short time
professionally

at a hospital I used to work at.

How does that help?
Well, it tells me

where the identity thief
stole my information from.

Corona General Hospital
in Queens.

Thank you very much.
Mm-hmm.

Sometimes I wonder what hobbies

other people's
roommates have.

I briefly shared
a flat in London

with a collector
of wild game urine.

He used it as a lure
for hunting and trapping.

Oh. Then I count my blessings.

Well, I embraced
the opportunity

to educate my olfactory
palate, but...

I must admit,
it's not for everyone.

I thought you said the table
wasn't helpful anymore.

I noticed that Shinwell hadn't
sanded down the knife chips,

but rather packed them
with wood filler.

I can still make out the angle
of attack of each strike.

Hence, my efforts
to determine

the killer's height, build,
left- or right-handedness

may continue.

Did you see my text
about Corona General?

I did. I checked the hospital's
online directory.

Sure enough, your contact
information had been replaced

with the thief's
mailbox information

and burner phone. I also
gave the hospital's computer

security measures
a thorough prodding.

System is far too porous
to have logged

who made the changes and when.

I've had a harder time breaking
into an advent calendar.

Which is why you turned your
attention back to the cold case.

Not before the ease of breaking
into the system itself

gave me another thought. Hmm?

It occurred to me

to look for other doctors

whose information
had also been changed.

If, like you, their office
numbers were now...

prepaid mobiles,
then surely the area codes

would be easy enough to spot.

I identified
three such doctors.

Like you,
their office addresses

are now mailbox stores.

So you think
these three doctors

had their identities
stolen by the same thief.

I've passed this information on
to Marcus.

He's now canvassing
the mailbox stores.

The one which was rented
in your name was no help,

but perhaps these
others will be.

Have you, uh, heard from
Detective Guzman today?

No, why?

I paid him a visit.

I advised him not
to take on Shinwell as a C.I.

What?

Understand, I admire
Shinwell's ambition.

I think his goal
could not be more worthy.

But as an undercover operative,
I find him wanting.

What are you
talking about?

He lacks the guile
to play multiple sides.

Not to mention the rudimentary
skills of survival.

Shinwell's not a survivor?

He was a gang member
most of his life.

He survived nearly
a decade in prison.

Both of which involve

rigid societal roles

and say nothing about
his capacity for subterfuge.

That doesn't mean
he can't do it.

No, evidence suggests that.

He allowed himself
to be duped

by an FBI agent
who told him

he was a registered informant,
when he wasn't.

He left his fingerprints
on a gun

at the scene of a murder
he did not commit.

And how did you two
meet again?

Wait, hold on a second.
That's right!

You pulled five bullets
out of him after he was

ambushed and shot.

Now that I know him better,
I'm surprised he didn't

step on an open bear trap
and then fall down a well.

I'm sorry, but if I'd have known
he was going to remain with SBK,

I never would have wiped
his fingerprints from that gun.

The man's safer in prison.

You...

What is this?
It's Marcus.

“Checking other mailbox
stores paid off.

“Security picture of woman

who rented one of the boxes
attached.”

I know that woman.

She was at Corona General
the same time I was.

Dr. Franny Krieg.

That's her. She's
the identity thief.

Were you close?
She was in rheumatology,

so we didn't
intersect much.

We just said hi
in the halls.

According to this,
her practice is in Jamaica.

Hello?

Dr. Krieg?

I don't think anyone's
going to answer.

There's burnt gunpowder
in the air, about an hour old.

It's Dr. Krieg.

She's gone.

Marla Ridgley Moore,
address in Great Neck.

It's hard to say whether
she had anything to do

with Dr. Krieg's
opioid trafficking.

Her getting killed
certainly did.

These are from the Bureau
of Narcotic Enforcement.

They print all the prescription
pads for New York state.

They're packing slips
from those boxes--

they're all empty.

Whoever did this
took the pads.

Five boxes.

One for each of the doctors
she was writing as.

You included.

20 pads per box,
100 pages per pad.

That's 10,000
more opportunities

for addicts to overdose.

Entry wounds are
all in the front,

so they were facing
their attacker.

He fired from the doorway
before entering

to collect the pads.

Blood spatter on the cabinet
supports that it was closed

at the time of the shooting

before being opened, where
the blood dripped down

onto the floor here.

Any receptionist
out front?

She'd already left.

Watson and Bell went
to speak with her.

According to her,
Dr. Krieg was in the habit

of sending her
home for the day

once the last
appointment had arrived,

which, in this case,
was 4:00 p.m.

Once the M.E.'s given us
the time of death,

we'll be able to confirm
the receptionist's timeline

and check the security
footage at Jamaica Station.

Make sure she was there
when she said she was, yeah?

So Joan's identity was
stolen by a doctor?

She was running

a pill mill.

She stole the credentials
of four doctors,

including Watson's,
and used them

to sell opioid scripts.

Using multiple identities

makes it much less likely
to raise any flags.

Maybe one of her customers
decided

to cut out the middleman.

Why pay a doc every time
you want a new script

when you can take
all the pads for yourself?

Yeah, that's what
we were thinking.

And the other victim,
Miss Moore?

Do we know her
connection?

The receptionist said
she was the mother of a patient.

She was here
for consultation.

So perhaps she was
just collateral damage.

Perhaps she was the
mother of a patient

and involved
in the pill mill.

It's very difficult
to say.

And hopefully we'll know more
once we've spoken to the family.

I'll reach out
to the DEA.

Tell 'em about this
and everything

you found out about Dr. Krieg.

Should get them off
Joan's back.

I should have
been there with her.

I was the patient, not her.

There's nothing
you could have done.

I'd have lost
you, too.

Ethan, come on,
sit down.

Was it unusual
for your mom to go

to Dr. Krieg's office
without you?

No.

I've been sick
since I was a kid.

My mom always dealt
with everything,

with all of the doctors.

There was a
scheduling mix-up.

My physical therapy
was at the same time

as my appointment
with Dr. Krieg.

They were just
gonna talk over

new treatment
options for me,

so I didn't go.

Can I ask you
about your diagnosis?

You can ask.

I just wish
I could tell you.

Mostly they call it

“non-specific
autoimmune disorder”"

Which, I've learned,
is doctor-speak

for “we have no idea”"

I have a lot
of joint pain.

My muscles are weak.

I get sick a lot.

I really hit the jackpot.

And, Mr. Moore,
were you here

with Ethan while your wife
went to Dr. Krieg's?

Uh, no. I don't
actually live here.

Marla and I split up last year.

I-I came over as soon
as I heard what happened.

Then I have to ask,

can you account
for your whereabouts

between 4:00
and 6:00 p.m. yesterday?

Yes, I was at a friend's
watching the Riviera Cup.

It's a golf tournament.
I'll give you his number.

Did your ex-wife have
a history of pain?

Was she on any
medications?

No. Why?

We think Dr. Krieg was
operating a pill mill.

Are you familiar
with the term?

Wait, you think
she was a drug dealer?

To be clear, as of right now,

we just think your mom was
in the wrong place

at the wrong time.

But if she was involved
in the other side

of Dr. Krieg's business,

getting it all out in the open

might help us find
whoever did this.

I'm sorry, no, no.

Marla wasn't involved
in anything like that.

Y-You can look around
if you want,

I mean, check
the medicine cabinets.

but I don't think
you'll find anything.

I remember seeing
this guy once...

in Dr. Krieg's waiting room.

It was a couple
of weeks ago.

He was older than me.

20s, maybe.

He was in real bad shape.

Shaking, sweating.

Hunched over, like
he had a stomachache.

I just thought he was sick.

So now you're wondering
if this was an addict

who was in withdrawal?

Well, Dr. Krieg
told him to leave.

And he did.

But he was angry.

I'll check with
Dr. Krieg's receptionist,

see if she can tell us
who that patient was.

Meantime, you think
you could describe him

to a sketch artist?

I could try.

That time already?
Why? You light, D?

Hell no.

It's been like this
all day.

We're gonna have
to start using bigger bags.

Ain't you gonna take it?

You see that homie
over there-- the big one?

What about him?

Could have sworn I saw him

outside my apartment
this morning.

You think he's Five-O?

What you think?

I think you trippin'.

Brother's too big.

Never seen a big cop?

I'm looking for cops
all the time.

It's what I do here.

I got, like,
a spidey sense.

Dude's no cop.

We'll finish
our business later.

Take care.
All right, then.

Can I come in?
Sure.

Something the matter?

I was being followed.
A big dude.

I lost him,
but I don't...

Shinwell, I'd like you
to meet my friend Luc.

Luc, voici Shinwell.

Luc, Merci pour ton

excellent travail
et ГЎ trГ©s bientГґt.

You had me tailed this morning?
Actually,

he's been following you
since last night.

When you finally caught
on and evaded him,

he got a cab here.

I'm assuming that you walked.

I did, three miles
out of my way.

Tell me, what is this about?

Watson said you want to continue
your work as a C.I.

She thinks it suits you.

I don't.

So I urge you,
quit while you're still alive.

What I do is
none of your business.

I infiltrated a police lab
on your behalf.

I wiped your fingerprints
off a weapon,

I think that gives me
plenty of skin in the game.

When you first came to
Watson, you said you wanted

to get your life
on a better track,

in order to become the kind of
person that you would consider

worthy of reconnecting
with your daughter, Chivonne.

Operating as an informant
is hardly that, is it?

You successfully
distanced yourself from a gang

once before, in prison.

So do it again, outside prison.

Watson could be
there to help.

All you have to do is ask.

I'll think on it.

Hey, it's Marcus.
Ballistics came back

on the rounds removed
from the victims.

They match a slug pulled
from the arm of a mugging victim

two years ago.
Mugger was never caught.

Joan and I are gonna
talk to the victim,

see what he remembers.
Figured you'd want to join.

I was walking home
to my apartment

and this guy grabs me
from behind.

Shoved me up against a car,

sticks a gun in my face,

and he said,
“Give me your wallet.”

I guess
I took too long.

Shot me right here.

Arm's never been the same.
The night it happened,

you told police that
you didn't get a good look

at the mugger's face.

So, maybe you
remembered something more

after the initial shock
wore off?

It was dark,
it happened fast.

I think...

I was staring more
at the gun

than at the guy.

According to
the emergency room report,

they also removed some
auto glass from your shoulder?

Yeah, car window, uh,

broke when he shot me,
there was--

there was glass everywhere.

And the police subsequently
looked for the car

but couldn't find it.

So, presumably,
the driver returned,

he saw his broken window
and he just drove off.

Yeah, I guess.

Yeah.

Except you're lying.

Excuse me?

You claim you were pushed up
against the car

before someone shot you there,

in the front of your arm,
but according to the ER,

the glass came from the same
direction as the bullet,

which means whoever shot you
did so through the car window,

so what's the truth?

I can come up with
any number of scenarios.

You being mugged
isn't one of them.

Given your deceit,
I'm inclined to think

that you were
attempting a carjacking,

and your would-be victim
was armed.

Mr. Fisk,

even without the
attempted carjacking,

I can still charge you with

filing a false police
report about a shooting.

But honestly, we're a lot
less interested in any of that

than we are in finding
whoever fired the gun.

So, how 'bout you
tell us the truth?

And we'll all just agree
that you've suffered enough.

It was a silver Lexus.

It just pulled
out of a parking lot

and up to a light;

there was a guy and a girl
in the car.

I pulled
the driver's door open,

I shouted for them
to get out,

but then the guy
yanked it closed again.

And before I knew it,
he had a gun out from somewhere

and he was shooting at me.

I ran.

I was lucky to get out
of there alive.

You remember where
this took place?

Yeah, out in Hempstead.

They were leaving one of those
big furniture stores.

Ridgley's.

Would you excuse us a minute?

The woman who was killed

alongside Dr. Krieg,

her full name was

Marla Ridgley Moore.

You think it's Ridgley
like the furniture stores?

Furniture empire,
more like.

Hundreds of stores, worth

many millions
of dollars.

All right,
but I'm confused.

What does any of this have to do
with Dr. Krieg

and the stolen pads?

Nothing, that's the point.

The same gun used
to kill the heiress

to the Ridgley
furniture fortune

was also used by a man exiting
a Ridgley's Furniture lot

two years ago.

That could be coincidence, but

the odds overwhelmingly
favor another explanation.

The stolen pads
were a smokescreen.

Franny Krieg was just
collateral damage.

Marla Moore was the real target.

We've been trying to solve
the wrong murder.

This whole thing is insane.

Really?

'Cause the judge kind of
saw it our way.

We checked, you own
a 9mm Smith & Wesson.

Same caliber used to shoot

a would-be carjacker
two years ago.

And to kill your ex-wife
and Dr. Krieg yesterday.

We also know you used
to drive a silver Lexus.

Just like the one Lee Fisk
was trying to steal in 2014.

Why would I kill Marla?

You're divorced.

Yes, but it wasn't

contentious,
not as those things go.

And if you think
I was after her money,

I've been out of her will
for over a year.

You're forgetting about
the will of her father--

furniture tycoon
Sam Ridgley.

I'm not in that one, either.

But your son is.

And while he's legally an adult,

he still requires
a great deal of care.

And with Marla dead,

you're free to step back
into the role of caretaker

and resume a
life of luxury.

All right, fine.

I admit that I was carjacked
two years ago

and that I tried
to shoot the guy.

I didn't report it because I--

because I was having an affair
with one of Marla's employees.

A woman named
Janine Roth.

I was picking her up
from work that night.

I couldn't tell Marla,

so I lied about
how the window broke

and kept the rest
to myself.

I was a bad husband.

But Marla,

she was a saint.

Okay, the stress on her,

the time and effort
to take care of Ethan,

I could have never done that.

And I could never
have hurt her.

So where's the gun now?

In the garage
at the house.

I stashed it in my tool drawer

after I shot the man
who attacked me and Janine.

I haven't seen it since.

Mr. Moore,
I think you're forgetting

I searched that garage
this morning

when we were checking to see
if your wife

had any hidden pills.

Hard for me to imagine
I missed a gun.

Well, you must have.

Either that, or...

What?

Or someone took it.

Tons of people go in and out
of that house.

Domestic help,

medical help.

I told you before,

I was at a friend's
when the murders happened.

Haven't you checked that?

We did. Problem is,

no one else can corroborate it.

And your friend let it slip
that you called him

to make sure your stories
were straight,

so for now,

we're gonna call your alibi
“soft.”

Marla and I got along fine.

Just ask Ethan.

We will.

Okay, Ethan, good.

Good.

Okay. Okay.

Oh, hey.

Come in.

I didn't want to
interrupt your session.

Believe me, we
are not done.

I'll come back in ten,
we'll keep going.

You still owe me for
time we need to make up.

I remember.

How are you doing?

It still doesn't feel real.

But she'd want me
to keep going.

Ethan, I'm here
because my colleagues

are with your father
at his apartment.

The gun that was used to kill
your mother and Dr. Krieg

is registered under his name.

The police are searching
for it right now.

No. No, that has to be
a mistake.

It's not a mistake.

I can't imagine being asked
what I'm about to ask you,

but if you know anything--

if you heard your parents
fight recently, if you think

your father was lying about
where he was yesterday...

Stop.

I don't think you can imagine
what it is you're asking me.

My mom was everything to me.

I don't leave this house.

I don't have friends.

Just the people she
paid to help me.

And now you're asking me
to believe that

my dad is the one
who killed her?

I'm alone.

I need him.

Wouldn't you want
to know the truth?

No. And I already told you,
you're wrong. Katie!

Look, I don't
know anything.

I'm sorry you wasted your time,

but my dad is innocent.

Ethan,

what is it?

It's okay.

I'm leaving.

Did you go shopping?

I had to pick up some supplies.

I also stopped by the precinct.

The police have now searched
Patrick Moore's home,

car, office...

researched
the Moore family home,

the murder weapon
hasn't turned up.

Nor have the stolen
prescription pads.

In my other investigation,

I now believe that
the police in 1938

bungled the chess club case
more than they even knew.

I don't even think
the murder weapon was a knife

but a piece of trophy.
In order to confirm that,

I'm going to have to un-restore
Shinwell's restoration,

regrettably.
Mm.

What about the soldering iron?

Heat softens the wood filler.

It pops right out. You?

I've been going over Marla
and Patrick's phone records

and e-mails.

I had hoped to find proof
that Patrick knew

that Marla was
at Franny Krieg's office

at the time of the murders.

But?

Well, Marcus called

right before you walked in.

He said that Patrick
and his friend

ordered a pizza
during the golf tournament.

Delivery guy recognized Patrick
'cause he was the one who paid.

So, Patrick Moore's
not our killer.

What are you looking for now?

Anything that stands out.

Any reason why someone would
want to kill Marla.

So, Shinwell

and Detective Guzman met today.

It went well. He's gonna
register him as a C.I.

May my concerns have been
for nothing.

This is weird.

Uh, Marla called
this same number

almost two weeks ago.

It's from one
of Franny Krieg's

prepaid cell phones,

which she set up
for the stolen IDs.

Mrs. Moore called a number
of doctors at Corona General

in the weeks preceding.

I recognize the prefix
for their private exchange.

She was doctor shopping.

That's a practice
of opioid addicts.

We found no evidence
that she was one, though.

True, but people doctor shop
for all sorts of reasons

any time they're not getting
what they want

from their doctors.

I just thought of something,
but I think we're gonna

have to get a warrant.

For?

It's Dr. Krieg's medical file
on Ethan Moore.

Ethan wasn't really sick.

His mother was poisoning him.

Come again?

She was committing Munchausen
by proxy...

by the looks of it,
since Ethan was a little boy.

She was doctor shopping.

She was extremely involved
in Ethan's treatments

and got a lot of attention
for it.

She spoke to his doctors
on a regular basis without him,

and the illness itself
was a mystery.

None of these things
on their own is significant,

but together,
they're signs that doctors

are taught to look out for.

And you think
he killed her for it?

And Dr. Krieg?

We do.

Marcus is on his way
to the house.

I thought the kid had an alibi.

I heard the
physical therapist

say he had missed time
to make up,

so it's possible he told people
he was going to the sessions,

but really he canceled it
or cut it short.

And what?
Drove himself

to the doctor's office,
shot her and his mom?

I thought this kid
could barely walk.

We think he had some help,
perhaps the physical therapist.

We're gonna speak to her, too.

Say you're right
about the motive for the mom.

Why would he kill the doctor?

Because she discovered
what Marla was doing

and she told Ethan about it.

So, if he had
killed only Marla,

Dr. Krieg would've known
it was him.

Ethan had been Dr. Krieg's
patient for over a year.

She'd already ran
a battery of tests.

Failed to find
a diagnosis

'cause there
was no disease.

Eventually, she
ran out of tests,

so Marla was looking
to start all over again

with a new doctor.

At which point,
she unwittingly calls

one of Dr. Krieg's
stolen identities,

a rheumatologist at the same

hospital.
Dr. Krieg's

burner phones were found
at the scene of the crime.

We had CCS
download voice mail.

Dr. Gordon,

my name is Marla Moore.

I'm calling about my son, Ethan.

He's 18.

He's been in treatment

since he was three,

and our current doctor's
just not on the ball.

At first, we were told

he had juvenile arthritis,

but the symptoms never added up.

She told Dr. Krieg
the symptoms started at six.

She never mentioned
juvenile arthritis.

So, her story was changing.

We think that's what tipped
Dr. Krieg off.

Now, in her
calendar, she had

two more meetings
involving the Moores.

The first one

was a week before the murders.

In her notes,
she says

that she visited
with Ethan alone,

asking the mother
to wait outside

while she shared
her discovery.

So, the mom is abusing her kid.

Why not call
Protective Services?

Ethan's 18.

She decided to talk to him
as an adult.

Given the events
that followed,

you could
imagine how she

shared her awareness

of Marla's message on
another doctor's voice mail.

Perhaps it was the only way
to gain Ethan's trust,

reveal her criminal activities,
and explain

that Marla had inadvertently
called one of her aliases.

The final meeting...

was the day
they were both murdered.

Hey, the captain's here, too.

Something tells me

you were right
about Ethan Moore.

According to the housekeeper,
he was real upset last night

after we finished
the second search.

He just went into his room,

wouldn't talk to anyone.

About a half hour later,

she heard a car pick him up

and drive away.

Didn't see who got him

or the car.

No one's heard from him since.

Ethan is gone.

Sherlock.

I'm here.

Are you done redestroying
the table?

Decided not to, actually.

Got better use for it as is.

Marcus and I just
finished interviewing

the rest of the Moore staff.

No one knew anything.

Physical therapist?

She was on a Skype call
with her boyfriend

at the time
of the murders.

Her phone's geolocation

puts her at Ethan's house.

Now, when Marcus spoke
to her the other day,

she confirmed Ethan's alibi,

but the truth is,
Ethan canceled the session

right when she got to the house.

So, she stuck around to adjust
some of the equipment.

She just assumed he was upstairs
the whole time.

So, the search
for Ethan's accomplice,

and by extension Ethan himself,
continues.

Agent Ritter just sent
this over.

After we discovered the murders,

he broadened his alert

so that pharmacies

would report the scripts

from Franny Krieg
and the other doctors.

These are where users

either filled their scripts

off the bogus pads,

or tried to,
and were stopped.

His idea

of a peace offering.
He wants me to know

the DEA's net is working.

We should send Agent Ritter

something very nice in return.

I don't think
it's that big a deal.

You don't at the moment,

but you're about
to change your mind.

This dot...

is dated the night
of the murders,

just before 7:00 p.m.
in Fort Lee.

And that's meaningful
because...?

Well, we're looking
for Ethan's accomplice.

You know it's
not his father,

his physical therapist,

or anyone
on the household staff.

Ethan was a virtual shut-in...

so where else could
he have met someone

to enlist in a double homicide?

Um... his doctor's office.

He said he met an addict
in Franny Krieg's waiting room.

Maybe that wasn't
entirely made up?

The stolen pads
have never been recovered.

Whether Ethan intended them
as payment

or whether his accomplice
just helped themselves

to them, either way,
they could've been

incentive to participate
in a murder.

What does an addict do
when they find themselves

with a cache
of blank prescriptions?

He fills one
as soon as possible.

Perhaps in this case,
the night of the murders

after dropping Ethan home.

The first pharmacy

across the George
Washington Bridge.

Can I have a few minutes?

Thanks.

I asked if I could speak
with you alone,

but you are not obligated

to say anything back.

How did they find me?

Todd Fisher,
the addict who helped you,

gave us the name of the hotel
where he dropped you off.

He also confessed
to driving you to and from

Franny Krieg's office
the day of the murders.

We also found
your father's gun

in your hotel room.

I found out some information

that I thought
you might want to know.

I had an idea where your mother
got those drugs

she was giving you
all those years.

Now, your
grandfather, Sam,

was on a whole list
of medications

for his heart, blood pressure,
thyroid...

anti-seizure meds.

His staff knew
for a long time

that pills were going missing.

They even fired a nurse
over it once,

thinking it was her.

Never in a million years
would they have thought

his daughter was stealing them
to poison her own son.

And these explain
all my symptoms?

We won't know for sure

which ones she gave you
until you're tested...

but a number of them can trigger
the immune system to go haywire.

All the signs of an
autoimmune disease show up.

Antibodies in the blood,
the swelling, the joint pain...

everything except a cause.

The effects should
be temporary.

Now that you're not
taking them anymore,

your symptoms should improve.

Will you talk to the police
for me?

About what?

Tell them you understand
why I did it.

What she did to me.

She stole my life.

Here's what I understand.

Franny Krieg was selling illegal
prescriptions to addicts.

If she was caught,
she would've gone to prison,

but somewhere in there
she was still a physician

and you were her patient.

She tried to throw
you a lifeline

and tell you what
your mother was doing.

She had to know
what she was risking,

but she tried to save you anyway
and you killed her for it.

в™Є Are we just now
until we start again? в™Є

в™Є We travel alone в™Є

в™Є This is not the end в™Є

в™Є Follow that road в™Є

в™Є Follow that road... в™Є

Wow.

You could've just said,
“No, thank you.”

Uh, I brought it here
because I think

we're gonna have to spend
more time together.

So consider the table
on indefinite loan.

Hmm, and how many games
you figure we'll get in,

what with how soon you think
I'll be dead and all?

Watson told me you were going to
continue with Detective Guzman.

I can't stop you.

I have a proposal.

You turned down Watson's offer
once that she, uh,

train you to be a detective.

I offer now, instead,

that we train you to be
an informant.

We can teach you the skills
you require to, uh,

survive that undertaking:

skills of deception,
avoiding detection...

how to extract information
without the subject knowing

they're being questioned.

And I pay
for this schooling how?

By getting beat at chess?

Every now and then,
Watson and I have our own need

of a pair of eyes on the street.

So, in addition to your official
capacity with the NYPD,

you'll also unofficially
be our informant, as well.

в™Є Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
ooh, ooh, ooh... в™Є

Do you accept the proposal?

в™Є Owns a map в™Є

в™Є Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
ooh, ooh, ooh... в™Є

Let's see what you got.

в™Є Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh... в™Є