Law & Order: Criminal Intent (2001–2011): Season 6, Episode 12 - Privilege - full transcript

NARRATOR: In New York City's
war on crime,

the worst criminal offenders
are pursued

by the detectives of
the Major Case Squad.

These are their stories.

(BOTH GASPING) Hi, Zoe!

(LAUGHING) Hi, honey!

Oh, come on in! Mommy
has a playdate tonight!

Aw! Bye, sweetie, I love you!

There you go.

Bye!
Bye-bye!

You can borrow these.



Thank you.
All right.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Hi there.

(DOORBELL RINGS)

Sorry to interrupt, but...

I don't know how, it turned
up behind some mats.

You're very kind.

Well, good night.

Good night.

And thank you.

You hungry?

Isabel!

Isabel!

Zoe wants to see her mommy!



Isabel?

Isabel? Isabel?

Isabel?

Oh. My God!

We haven't ID'd the male yet.

This was her place.
Isabel Harrington.

Twenty-five, single,
freelance magazine writer.

In a loft like this? Not unless she's
related to the Park Avenue Harringtons.

She is. Lady Virginia's
only granddaughter.

Isabel had a...
Had a little girl?

Zoe, 18 months. Downstairs
neighbor was babysitting.

So Mommy could have
a romantic evening?

They never even
made it to dessert.

Flowers are fresh.

No store name, no card.

Early morning
delivery gone bad?

Hmm.

A laptop stand, but no laptop.

Gone.

Along with her iPod and
the contents of her bag.

But the rest of the loft
looks untouched.

Because he was interrupted?

Blood drops from there

to here.

Then Isabel's date came out of the
bedroom and surprised the killer?

A florist's knife.

Probably used on both the victims.
Any ID?

No wallet, just a card in
his shirt pocket out here.

From Soho Yoga.

Well, he was fit.

Maybe an instructor?

I never heard her
mention any yoga guy.

She seems to have wanted
last night to be special.

Would she have done
that for a first date?

She didn't usually
bring men home.

Because of Zoe.

You mean instead she
went to their place?

Regen, we're not passing
judgment on Isabel,

we just need to know if she
had a man in her life.

A man? No. Men? Yes.

She had this romantic notion

that some prince would sweep her
off her feet and be a dad for Zoe.

Other than Zoe's
biological father.

He wasn't in their life. I mean,
she never even told me a name.

An unwed mother. Unusual
in her family's world.

That's why she moved downtown.

She wanted to get away from the
pressure of being a Harrington.

She said she couldn't
breathe on Park Avenue.

Isabel's father and stepmother
are coming to pick up Zoe.

GOREN: You mentioned that Isabel
was searching for a prince.

Did any of them
bring her flowers?

Not ours. This is Soho,
we use square vases.

Uh-huh. But you have sent
arrangements to Isabel Harrington?

Yeah, all the time.

Last one was a week and a half ago.
Paper whites.

(PHONE RINGING)

Excuse me.
I need to get this.

Soho Yoga ID'd Willem Vanderhoeven
as one of their instructors.

He's been in the
country for five weeks

on a work visa from Holland.

Who did he know in Manhattan?

Just his fellow yogis.

He lived at the ashram,
his family's in Amsterdam.

He went to Isabel's last night

to return a shoe she'd lost
after her yoga class.

So the wine and the candles...
She was expecting someone else.

Mmm. Vanderhoeven died because he was
in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Isabel was my beloved niece.

And the Harrington family
mourns her tragic death.

On behalf of Lady Harrington,

we also extend our
deepest sympathies

to the Vanderhoeven
family in Amsterdam.

Finally, we would like...

Ernest, excuse me if I may.

My name is Grant Harrington.

I'm Isabel's father.

Today we are establishing
a $100,000 reward

for any and all information leading
to the arrest of her killer.

(REPORTERS CLAMORING)

Thank you.

$100,000 for
a black sheep daughter.

They're making all
the right gestures.

"Black sheep"?
She was a freelance writer

living in a 5,000-square-foot
Soho loft.

Must not be too estranged
from the family.

Nice to have you back
on the job, Detective.

Thanks.
Everything, uh...

Everything's good.

We were talking
about Isabel's finances.

We'll be looking into her
family trust And Zoe's.

Zoe, that's the little girl.

Bet she has an
inheritance now, too.

Who's her father?

Her birth certificate says "unknown"
and nobody's stepped forward.

Dinner at home,
could be an old flame.

When you're done
with the florist list,

take another look
at her phone records.

(CHUCKLES)

Isabel and I haven't been
romantic since Bastille Day.

Now there's a holiday
that's tough on relationships.

You keep a diary
of all your relationships.

I'm a writer.
I keep notes.

You're recording us.
...since Bastille Day.

You'd better start
explaining this,

or you'll be working for
the Rikers Daily News.

(LAUGHS NERVOUSLY) Okay, uh...

I'm specing a piece
on her murder.

Your girlfriend is killed and
you're looking to cash in. Sweet.

Ex. And she cashed in
on me all the time.

Every piece she wrote,
I placed it for her.

All except the last one.

And what was that about?

(SIGHS)

All right.

Wait, wait, wait.
Playground adultery.

That might be it.

She mentioned those
stay-at-home dads

making the moves
on her in the sandbox.

Isabel brought
Zoe here every day.

She was obsessed
with motherhood.

Music lessons, French
lessons, but now...

(SIGHS) We're still in shock.

You were close?

We worked together at Vogue.
We kept in touch...

Isabel always said that Soho was
a nice place to raise kids.

Max!
Max. Play nice!

We're thinking of
moving down here.

Yeah, Isabel said
she heard about

a great sublet from someone
on the playground. Um...

I think she said he was a
stay-at-home dad, married, I think...

She was actually friendly
with someone, Isabel?

"Friendly"?
Right.

Jeez, poor Isabel, she kept trying
even when he lost interest.

(SIGHS) Who?

Dylan, the sandbox Romeo.

He's right over there.

By the sandbox.

Ladies, could you watch our
kid for just one second?

Uh. Dylan?

Yeah? Those ladies said you
knew Isabel Harrington?

We have some questions for you.
I have nothing to say.

Dylan, NYPD.
Dylan, stop!

Dylan...

Excuse us.
Sorry.

Pardon me.
Dylan!

Dylan! Sorry.
Excuse us.

EAMES: Sorry.
Dylan, stop!

GOREN: Watch out.

Don't make us arrest you
in front of your son.

EAMES: Marijuana.

Most people keep diapers and
baby wipes in their diaper bag.

I don't know
how that got there.

Right.
So why'd you run?

My lawyer's on her way.

Maybe I should wait for her.

Well, that's okay. So,
while we're waiting,

why don't you tell us what
you and Isabel talked about

the night before
she was murdered?

On this phone, here.

(SIGHS) Oh, that. She wanted
me to come over, I couldn't.

So you stood her up.

I had to babysit my kids.

Oh, I love when men say
they have to babysit.

If they're your kids, it's not
babysitting, it's called being a dad.

GOREN: How many
do you have?

Two.

Three, though, right?
Counting Zoe, that's three?

You have the same ears,
got the same brow.

Look, we could do a blood test.

Look, no one knows.

Not even my wife.

Okay, Detectives,
cease and desist.

What'd you do, Dylan?

Oh, oh, this is your lawyer?

And wife.
Leslie Mercer.

Leslie.

(CLEARS THROAT) Well,
your husband's charged

with possession of marijuana.

(SCOFFS) A little weed,
personal use.

EAMES: And
resisting arrest.

Mistaken identity, babe.

And he's a suspect
in a murder investigation.

Isabel Harrington.

(LAUGHS)

Well, my husband
is a saxophone player,

he doesn't hobnob
with the Harringtons.

(SIGHS)

You gonna tell her, or...

Oh, man, that's not cool.

Your husband is the father of
Isabel's 18-month-old child.

What?

I was gonna tell you.

EAMES: Isabel was
murdered Saturday morning.

Your husband claims
he has an alibi.

Now that I think about it...

You went out early.

8:00 a.m. He didn't
come back until 10:00.

Uh, I was moving the car.

Oh, for two hours?
Where'd you park? Jersey?

I'm going to go pick up our
son from Social Services.

And get yourself
a new attorney.

Two. Criminal and divorce.

Babe...

Pot-smoking sax player
to double murderer.

I don't see it.

He has motive.
Custody of Zoe.

There's a lot of
money at stake.

I saw him with his
wife, he was passive.

He's also a liar.
That car story?

I'd like to find out
what he's hiding.

Detective, you've
outed him to his wife.

He's not going to tell you.

I was making
a pot drop. Uptown.

145 West End, apartment 4D.

Tough getting a buyer
to verify that.

Building has a doorman and
security cameras in the lobby.

Well, your client could have just
hired someone to kill Isabel.

Oh, come on.

With Isabel gone, you'd get custody
of Zoe, and her trust fund.

Isabel wanted me named legal guardian.
But her family...

When that kid was in utero,

Isabel's people had me sign
papers giving up parental rights.

Which you went along with.

Well, like I had a choice.

She's a Harrington,
and I play alto.

I was the Harrington family
attorney for 25 years.

I can't violate
the attorney-client...

We don't have time for a lecture
on privilege, Mr. Winthrop.

One of your clients
was murdered.

With a billing hook
just like this one.

Only it was older.

You can't seriously
think that I...

The murderer left
flowers, Mr. Winthrop.

We could call CSU,
have them come in here,

bag all of your flowers,
see if there's a match.

I've known Isabel her whole life.
I adored her!

Then help us,
Mr. Winthrop.

Isa.

She was such a free spirit.

So you protected her
when she wanted

to name Dylan Mercer
Zoe's guardian.

I told Mr. Mercer we'd have to
advise his wife of Isa's request.

He went away.

On cue.

To the relief
of the Harringtons?

Her father and stepmother gladly
accepted their role as legal guardians.

Why wasn't that Isabel's choice to begin with?
Were they estranged?

Isa's mother died
when she was seven.

Her father, Grant, became
a born-again bachelor.

Until Cheryl.
Lady Harrington raised Isa.

Loved her.

You call her Isa.
You were close?

She kept in touch with me.

We'd go for lunch.

When did you see Isabel last?

July. She was upset
about the family finances.

But we're back
to privilege, I'm sorry.

GOREN: You implied that you're
no longer the family retainer.

You mind me asking
when you retired?

In August, and I didn't retire.

You were let go.
By Lady Harrington?

Lady Harrington is as loyal
as she is generous.

I'm sure this
was not her doing.

GOREN: Did she tell you that?

Because of her health, I was never
able to speak with Lady Harrington.

Ernest took me to lunch.
He was quite apologetic.

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Excuse me, I have to take this.

So, Isabel came to see
Winthrop in July.

He was let go in August.

We've been worried Isabel
fell prey to an outsider.

Maybe the world she ran away
from was the real threat.

ERNEST: I've known Terrence
Winthrop since I was nine.

I spent more time with him
than I did with my own father.

So why did you
fire him, Ernest?

He was the victim
of regime change.

"Regime change." Oh, your
stepbrother's marriage to Cheryl?

Grant is my half-brother,
not step.

Lady Harrington was
mother of us both.

Yeah, but he's a Harrington,
you're a Foley.

I was raised a Harrington.

Brava! Brava!

That was terrific. That was
wonderful, girls, wonderful.

They all wanted to cancel,
in memory of Isabel.

But she would have
wanted us to press on.

You're a big patron
of the arts, huh?

We saw the plans for your
new space on our way in.

Well, those who can't
do, write checks.

With Foley money or Harrington?

We've heard Isabel was concerned
about the Harrington trust.

I can't imagine why.

Mother, Lady Harrington,

always made sure that Isabel... Well,
made sure all of us were secure.

In the hopes that
we might help others.

Mmm, Lady Harrington used to be

a fixture on
the charity circuit,

but no one's seen
much of her lately.

Is her health okay?

My mother's led a full
and generous life.

Now it's our turn to help her.

(MOANING WEAKLY) Just sign
right here at the bottom.

Right there.
Right there.

Very good, Mother.

Helena, you sign underneath.

Should I read it?

No, no.
That won't be necessary.

Just sign underneath my mother's
signature where it says "witness."

The last thing I expected at my age was
a toddler running around the house,

but Zoe's my granddaughter.

And we assume she stands to
inherit a sizeable fortune.

It depends on your
context, Detective.

I've managed the family's
assets for 15 years.

Zoe's trust is one of a hundred
blips on a computer screen.

And you'll be
administering that blip.

Just what are you implying?

GOREN: Well, we know
that you weren't

Isabel's first choice
for a legal guardian.

Isabel's first choices
were seldom thought out.

Well, you're fortunate that
Mr. Winthrop was able to protect Zoe.

He's a good man.

Then why'd you fire him?

My mother's old. She has her whims.
She can be mercurial.

She wanted to make a change.

GOREN: Your mother
made the decision?

That's correct.

Well, then, I guess it
wouldn't be a problem, um,

for us to discuss the matter
with Lady Harrington.

I'm afraid her doctors
won't allow that.

She's not always lucid. She has
her good days, bad days, but...

My wife is
at her side constantly.

Oh, it sounds like your wife is
who we need to speak to, then.

You don't have a problem
with that, do you?

Moving?

Organizing.

GOREN: Well, it looks
like you're packing up.

Lady Harrington requested some of her
things be brought down to the city.

You're leaving that, yes?
Absolutely not.

Virginia adores it.

She doesn't weekend
here anymore?

She hasn't been here in a year.

She rarely leaves
the New York apartment.

Because of her health?

It was worse when she was
aware of her deterioration.

I'm almost glad she's at the point where
we needn't tell her about Isabel.

And how long has
she been less aware?

She broke her hip a year ago.

Since then she's been, the
doctor calls it, dwindling.

Huh. That's funny.

Your husband told us
that she was the one

who made the decision to let go of
the family lawyer, Mr. Winthrop.

Oh, she was.
She felt he was dwindling.

If she was unaware
of her surroundings,

then why was she allowed to make a
decision that was so important?

Lady Harrington is still
this family's matriarch.

Her son does what she asks.

Janice?
Mmm-hmm?

Can we talk about
the vanity upstairs?

Would you excuse us?

You get the feeling
the new daughter-in-law's

giving Lady Harrington
a run for her money?

Or taking every last penny.

Isabel got a monthly stipend from the
sweep account that her father managed.

Basically, he sweeps in
50K, she sweeps it out.

But I can't trace where
that money's drawn from.

That's the problem with
these family-managed trusts.

Or maybe that's the advantage
for Grant Harrington.

Touché, Detective. He could be committing
the cardinal sin of dipping into capital.

But as long as Isabel and Ernest
keep getting their monthly checks,

they'd have no way
of knowing that.

There must be
some public trail.

Yeah, right on. So I conducted a
search of all real estate sales,

all corporation taxes, anything
that goes through the state.

That's when things
got interesting.

Right. So, in the
last four months,

Lady Harrington has sold
two houses in the Hamptons...

And there's a title search on
that Westport house you visited.

There have been paintings sold
at public auction, jewelry...

How much?

Twenty million.

Lady Harrington's
having a fire sale.

The Harringtons stand
to inherit the whole pie.

Why the rush?
Tax advantage?

Most likely, Grant is bailing himself
out of some sort of sinkhole.

Well, and he has power of
attorney for his mother.

No, she signs every sale.

Then there must be a witness.

Right! Same witness
every time.

A Miss Helena Arcenas.

Occupation,
home care assistant.

I know she's supposed
to be in fragile health,

but pay a call
on Lady Harrington.

Find out if she's really
signing these papers,

or if they're robbing her
grave before she's even in it.

The police came to me.
Asking about our finances.

Ernest, stop worrying.

Just cash your monthly check,
it's what you do best.

Maybe I should
take a look at things,

because I may need
a lump sum soon.

For a new dance space.

The money,
it's all there, isn't it?

I think I should
become more involved.

Fine, Ernest.

Involve yourself.
What would you like to see?

The stochastics, S&P
deviations, the puts to calls?

You tell me.

Exactly.

Go play with
your dancers, Ernest.

As a little girl, I used to
dream of living this way.

It's musty in here, though.

You see the dead
flies in the lamp.

Fake flowers?

I hope you got over that.

Mr. Grant will be
right with you.

Actually, we were hoping to
speak with Lady Harrington.

He said he'll be
right with you.

Are you, uh, Helena Arcenas?

Can we talk to you for a minute

about those papers you
signed for Lady Harrington?

We won't tell
Mrs. Cheryl.

They just told me to sign.

Do you know what you signed?

The woman before me, she asked
questions, she was fired.

Do you know her name?

Birdie?
Like...

Thank you, Helena.

Detectives. Sorry
you've wasted your time.

My mother can't be seen.

Well, if she's indisposed,
she's indisposed.

She's old, she's frail,
but she still has her pride.

But she would never want
strangers to see her this way.

So... Detective,
what are you doing?

Eames, you remember when we were
talking about terra-cotta tile?

Yes!
Italian marble inlay.

He's a tile buff.

Oh. That's nice, but...
No, no!

Detective, I have to ask you
not to disturb my mother!

Grant was just a little too
concerned with shutting the door.

You can't come in here.

You know, actually, this home
reeks of everything but concern.

What do you think you're doing?

What... No, no, you can't touch her!
Stop it.

Look, she is
clearly dehydrated.

I didn't realize you were
a doctor, Detective!

This is how you
treat your mother?

She's flushed, her skin is dry.

Eames, we're gonna
need an ambulance.

You have no right to barge in here
and start demanding ambulances.

Shut up!

I'd shut up if I were you.

Detectives, get out of my home!

I said to shut up,
so sit down and shut up!

This is Detective Eames,
Major Case.

We need an ambulance at the
Harrington residence on Park Avenue.

No, Bridie, not Birdie.

And yes, I was Mrs. Harrington's
personal assistant for many years.

How is she?

I read in the paper that when you found
her, the poor woman was near death.

Her potassium levels
were in the twos.

She's on diuretics.

They must not have given her
the potassium supplements.

Is she okay now?

She's made
a remarkable comeback.

She always was a fighter.

Were they tying to
hasten her death?

Grant and Cheryl fired
the home care worker.

They blame it all on her.

Well, of course they do.

Do you mind me asking
why they let you go?

I overstepped my bounds.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington
wanted me to witness

a deal transferring Lady
Virginia's Westport estate.

But you knew that
she loved her home

and you refused to sign.

Right. So they fired me.

I stirred that pot good.

That whole family.

(IMITATES SPITTING)

Except for poor Isabel.

You know, Bridie,
you don't seem shy.

(LAUGHS)

When you knew that
she was being mistreated

why didn't you tell someone?

I did! I told Isabel
three months ago!

EAMES: And what did she do?

She told me she was gonna
go public with an article.

An exposé of
the Harrington family.

And the Harringtons can't have
been too happy about that.

I promised her
I'd keep it a secret.

Okay. Thank you.

The desk in her loft
was ransacked.

Whoever killed her didn't want the
family's dirty laundry aired.

Well, her laptop may be gone,

but if she did any
research online,

we may be able to find it
through her server.

Any luck?

Everything Isabel googled
in the last six months.

I thought she was doing
an exposé on her family.

How much research
did she need to do?

Well, these searches,

some were about Lady
Harrington's medications,

but she was also
looking into the death

of her mother, Lissie
Harrington, 18 years ago.

Her mother, how did she die?

Well, according to her
obituary, a heart arrhythmia.

She was 28.

That seems awfully young.

Isabel's search engine
also showed inquiries

about the medications
Mellaril and Hismanal.

Mellaril was used in the '80s.
It's an anti-psychotic.

So, researching old drugs
and her mother's death.

Have Rodgers take a look at
her mother's autopsy report.

There was no autopsy.

Lissie Harrington died
in the emergency room.

Her EKG showed an arrhythmia,

a week later a tox report was
filed in her medical records.

No one ever looked at it until Isabel
requested them about three months ago.

Let me guess,

Lissie had Mellaril and
Hismanal in her system.

Uh-huh.

Well, an anti-psychotic
with that antihistamine?

That's a lethal combination.

Would that have been common
knowledge at the time?

Oh, definitely.

No doctor would have
prescribed them together,

and no doctor should have attributed
her death to natural causes.

Detectives,
we're grateful to you

for saving Lady Harrington,

but these questions,
they border on harassment.

You don't know what's
going on here, do you?

I mean, between your
first wife's overdose,

your mother's neglect,
your daughter's murder,

you are, at best, looking
like the angel of death.

(CLEARS THROAT) Okay.

When Isabel was born,

Lissie became depressed.

Weepy, angry.

Post-partum? Isabel was
seven when Lissie died.

That's correct. It was
seven years of hell.

Hell for you?
Uh, hell for her?

I mean, how about your wife?

Did you get her help?

I did everything I could.

Doctors, therapy...

And medicated her
with Mellaril.

That's an anti-psychotic.

It was the only
thing that worked.

She had become
delusional and paranoid.

Delusional, paranoid...
Paranoid...

What, that's, uh,
your diagnosis?

The doctors'? Whose?

Maybe he gave her something
to be paranoid about.

Cheating?

No, she was paranoid
about the money.

Lissie grew up worse
than hand-to-mouth

and she was afraid
the money wouldn't last.

Or was she suspicious of you
managing the family finances?

Not of me, Detective.
Of Ernest and my mother.

She wanted me to cut them off.

Their charitable contributions.

Experimental
theater for Ernest,

and for Mother, museums, parks
and historic preservation.

So, Lissie was depressed
for seven years

and then one night she takes
an overdose of her meds.

Hmm?
Mmm-hmm.

Where were you?

On a boat in the Galapagos.

Nice. EAMES: Well,
that's convenient.

Yet you know it was a suicide.

It was the holidays.

She had been drinking.

Her maid came home,
found her passed out,

called my mother,
they took her to the E.R.

and unfortunately,
it was too late.

Your wife on any
other medications?

Other than the Mellaril?

She have allergies?
No.

What about you, Grant?
You allergic to anything?

No, Detective,
I have no allergies.

I'm sorry to inform you
that this was a suicide.

My son Grant tells me
that I'm in your debt.

(CHUCKLING)

Apparently, there was a
mistake with my medication

and only you noticed.

It's a terrible shock
to gain my health

only to find out that my
granddaughter was murdered.

She was my joy.

We're very sorry for your loss.

And I gather that you think

that my daughter-in-law
was murdered as well?

Grant told you that?

No, Detectives.
I deduced it.

Why else would you
be talking to my son

about an 18-year-old
suicide?

Mmm, yeah, we wouldn't.

But Grant believes
that Lissie killed herself.

And you don't?

If she were going
to take her own life,

she would never have done it
with Isabel in the apartment.

Well, if you don't believe
that she committed suicide,

why didn't you ask
for an autopsy?

It's your name, isn't it?
The Harrington name.

You didn't want it
splashed on the front page.

EAMES: Or maybe
you had some idea

of who may have
wanted Lissie dead.

I knew a great deal about
my daughter-in-law's past.

And I accepted that we were
better off not knowing.

You never suspected your son?

Of course not!

Grant was far away
the night that Lissie died.

And he is a Harrington,

with what all that entails.

These Harrington traits...

Did anyone have allergies?

No. Oh...

(CHUCKLES)

That would be my first husband.

Your first husband,
that would be Ernest's father?

Did Ernest have allergies?

I'm not sure.

Ernest had nannies.

Lady Virginia,
your car is here.

Oh, thank you, Bridie.

We have reopened Westport,

and Grant and Cheryl are giving
me a small party tonight

to welcome me home.

It's just a terrible tragedy
that Isabel won't be there.

Well, the tragedy is if you had
said something 18 years ago,

Isabel might still be alive.

His father had allergies,

so you think Ernest Foley
may be good

for a double family murder
18 years apart?

Yeah, that's one theory.

Has anybody ever told you
you're reductive?

My ex-wife.

Eames, walk me
through this slowly.

Grant told us Lissie wanted to cut off
Ernest's charitable contributions.

Okay.

Ernest's identity
is tied to his philanthropy.

But his money
was tied to Grant.

He would have felt
threatened by Lissie.

So he faked her suicide

and Lady Harrington covered
even that up as an arrhythmia.

Ernest got away with murder
for two decades.

Until Isabel began digging.

And the other working theory?

Grant. He plundered
the family trust,

then he and Cheryl
over-medicated Lady Harrington

so she would sign away most of her
real estate to cover their debt.

I don't suppose either
of them will come in.

Well, maybe we can wrangle
a last-minute invitation

to Lady Harrington's
party tonight.

(GRANT CHATTERING)

No, thank you.

No, no, no.
(DOOR OPENING)

Oh...

Uh, excuse me.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you're
gonna have to leave. No, no.

You're not allowed
in here, Detectives.

This is not where we...

Detectives! I'm sorry
you came all the way.

Please take some coffee in the
kitchen before you leave.

CHERYL: It's really
a private affair.

Oh, we know.
Lady Harrington invited us.

She did what?
Oh, Detectives!

There you are.

Please come with me.

Everyone! Everyone!

I want you to meet these two
terrific detectives who...

Well, who saved my life!

Bravo! Bravo!

We're very grateful
to both of you.

Well, actually, we were just
about to tell your sons

we may have had
a break in the case.

You know, Lady Harrington doesn't
have to worry about that.

Not tonight.

Ernest, please.

I think about Isabel
night and day.

What have you learned?

Your granddaughter was working
on an investigative piece.

We thought that her murderer had taken
all of her notes and her drafts,

but it turns out she
mailed a copy to herself.

It's a poor man's copyright.

We got it this morning.

And so you think
that this article

had something to do
with her murder?

Isabel wrote about
yoga wear and ankle boots.

She'd hardly get
killed over that.

Cheryl, don't push it.

What was she writing about?

Well, she was writing
about the Harringtons.

Oh, poor Isabel.

A memoir, huh?

She must have thought that the
only way to make it as a writer

was to betray
the Harrington name.

Less of a memoir
than it was a mystery.

I mean, Isabel was convinced

that her mother's death
wasn't an accident.

Her mother?

Well, no, no, no,
it wasn't an accident.

No, she had a heart attack.

Ernest, stop.
Let it go.

They know about
Lissie's depression.

Mother, I apologize.

I thought it best
to be forthright.

Grant, you don't
have to apologize.

The truth is, if I hadn't worried so
much about our name when Lissie died,

if I hadn't swept everything
under the carpet,

Isabel might be alive now.

Mother, Lissie's suicide had
nothing to do with Isabel's death.

No, no, she had
a heart arrhythmia.

Caused by an interaction of
anti-psychotics and antihistamines.

EAMES: Which raises
a red flag right there,

since Lissie wasn't
allergic to anything.

Not cat hair, not dogs,
not flowers.

We're trying to figure out how she
could have had access to Hismanal.

GOREN: We asked your mother if
anyone in the family had allergies.

Grant doesn't.

Well, that's what
Lady Harrington said.

The Harringtons don't.

But she doesn't
recall your childhood.

I'm sorry, Ernest.

EAMES: Oh,
but that's not her fault.

Mr. Harrington didn't
want you around.

In our world,
it's about quality time.

My nanny was there to draw
my bath, to wipe my nose.

Oh, your nose.
I remember it dripping.

I mean, at weddings and during
the summer up at Westport.

So you do have allergies?

Fine. I have allergies.
I'm on medications.

What meds are
you on, Detective?

Your allergies, any specifics?

Goldenrod, roses. Name
the bloom and I sneeze.

Just to make it through this damn party,
I had to double up on my Claritin.

Which means, Detectives,

that if I had gone to Isabel to
confront her about her lies,

I never would have brought her
a bouquet of flowers.

How'd you know about
the flowers, Ernest?

I don't know,
I read about them!

We never released
that detail to the press.

All right, I don't know.

I heard it from
Isabel's neighbors.

Mother, there are guests. Would you
tell these detectives to leave?

No! No!
I want them all to know!

Don't leave, anyone!
All of you, stay!

GRANT: Mother,
Mother, please!

I'll talk to you later, Grant.

Ernest! Mother, it's
not what you think.

That's right, Ernest, tell her

that you were trying
to save yourself.

Just like Lissie, Isabel
would ruin everything, huh?

Your life as a benefactor,

a fixture on
the charity circuit.

All that would be over.

What have you done?

I tried to protect
the Harrington name.

Ernest, you don't have what
it takes to be a Harrington!

But Grant does?

Marrying this piece
of white trash?

Wiping the family
fortune clean?

Keeping her doped up until you
could pick her carcass clean!

How dare you!
You killed my daughter!

All right, back off!
You killed my daughter!

Oh, my God! What have you
done to my granddaughter?

Isabel was gonna
write about all of it!

The busted trusts!
Grant's whores!

You, lying there in those
urine-stained sheets!

Mother, is this how you want the
Harringtons to be remembered?

Oh, she was trying
to save my life!

She cared about me!

She cared about Zoe.

What have you done?

Mother...
No, you monster.

(CRYING) You monster!

Please... Hey. Put your
hands behind your back!

Can we do this outside?
No, we cannot.

We'll do it right here.

Ernest Foley,
you're under arrest

for the murder of
Willem Vanderhoeven,

and Lissie and
Isabel Harrington.

All right.

Mother...

My life.

What happened to my life?

(SOBBING)