Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (1999–…): Season 6, Episode 4 - Scavenger - full transcript
The entire squad races against the clock to solve the puzzles and uncover the clues scattered throughout the city by a serial killer who is taunting them to find him and the next victims on his list.
In the criminal justice system,
sexually-based offenses are
considered especially heinous.
In New York City,
the dedicated detectives who investigate
these vicious felonies are members
of an elite squad known
as The Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
I think I'm having
a heart attack!
It's just a cramp.
Run through it, Bernie.
You gotta let me rest.
Uh-uh, rest is a four-letter word.
Let's think positive.
No, stop!
Bernie...
There's a baby in here.
With a note taped to it.
Oh... Hey.
Someone abandoned him?
Not according to this.
The mom was abducted.
Yeah, no ID in the
jogger's stroller.
Drag marks end here.
Well, the perp or perps
must have had a car waiting,
forces her inside, peels out.
Find any footprints?
Over here in a patch of dirt.
It's small.
I figure it's hers.
Which leads into here.
This is a perfect place for a rape.
It's isolated. There's
no view from any direction.
Yeah, but why abduct her
if he's already raped her?
These are not just ripped.
They're shredded.
Ultra-sharp blade, thin.
Maybe a box cutter.
Hard to say no to.
Especially if he's
threatening the baby.
Is he okay?
A little hungry,
but no sign of trauma.
I'm taking him to the ER
for a full exam.
Note was stuck to
the kid with duct tape.
Which he could have used
to bind and gag mom.
- This guy came prepared.
- Yeah, I'll say.
The note was pre-printed
from a computer.
Will you show him?
He signed it,
Rupert Daniel Kilmore.
I'm not sure if that's his real name
or the author of this poem.
Poem.
"The mean, mean man
has a monster in his head."
"Find him by tomorrow
or my mommy will be dead."
Law & Order SVU
6x04 Scavenger
ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC: 2004/10/19
This guy have a vendetta against all
mothers or this one in particular?
Who knows? We don't even have
a bead on our victim yet.
Well, he's given us
a day to figure it out.
Does that mean same time tomorrow,
or midnight tonight?
Let's assume worst-case scenario.
That gives us 13 hours.
Figure the prints on the baby's s
troller are mom's.
No hits in the system.
Nothing from Missing Persons.
And if there is a husband,
he might not know till
he gets back from work.
All right, that leaves us
with the stroller and the baby.
We're checking the gift registries.
This jogger's stroller is a huge seller.
The baby's one of a kind.
Let's get his picture out on the news.
Just say a baby was found.
Withhold all details.
Not many to give.
Only prints on the note are
from the jogger who found it.
Well, what about the name?
There's no listing in Manhattan
for a Rupert Kilmore.
The closest one is Staten island.
Get going.
Kilmore Time
Sales & Repair
Staten Island, New York
Tuesday, September 28
You got a sec?
Uh, 60 every minute.
Unfortunately, this little
guy only has 52.
Hairspring's gummed up.
You're really into time, Rupert.
Fourth generation horologist.
What are you in the market for?
Missing woman.
Who? / We're hoping
that you can tell us.
Seeing as your name is written
on a note threatening to kill her.
You've got the wrong
Rupert Kilmore.
You're the only one
in this time zone.
So tell us, Rupert, why would
a rapist use your full name?
Rapist? I have no idea.
Kilmore time.
Yes, they're standing right here.
Hello? Hello?
- Who is that?
- He didn't say.
Just asked if the cops were here,
and to give them the facts.
I swear, I don't know anything.
Not facts, fax.
Son of a bitch is watching us.
It's another poem.
"Once there were some cops so dumb."
"Took them hours to
get to clue number one."
"Mommy's running out of time,"
"so the answer is written
above the rhyme."
The header. Jiffy's copy center.
That's right down the street.
There it is.
Police!
We'd appreciate your cooperation.
Nobody leaves until we say so.
This was faxed from here
a few minutes ago. Who sent it?
Uh, was there a cover sheet?
No.
Black guy, thin.
- Really antsy.
- Where did he go?
He just paid and left.
He didn't even wait for me to send it.
Could be on any paper in here.
What was he wearing?
A ratty, long overcoat.
He looked like a homeless guy.
Okay, a homeless guy
just left here.
Has anyone seen him?
Could have the man
I passed coming in.
He was heading toward the alley.
- What is this, another game?
- Yeah, hide and seek.
Got you, dirt bag!
Up!
Hands up! Hands up!
But they're so heavy.
- Shut up.
- Where is she?
- Who?
- The woman! Where is she?
Uh, oh, oh, you must be the cops
I was supposed to wait for.
What are you talking about?
- The man I sent the fax for.
- Right, right, who was that?
Who? Who?
Who?
The man! Who is it?
He stuck a knife in my back.
He gave me the fax and 20 bucks.
Hey! Hey!
Why were you supposed
to wait here for us?
Give you the message.
Message?
Where's the message.
In here.
Oh, that's just great.
- What is it?
- What's what?
- The clue!
- He needs sugar.
Okay, I want you to
think now, okay?
- He told you to memorize it, right?
- Right!
Right. Was it a poem?
No, no, it didn't rhyme.
Okay, was it a riddle?
Uh, no, just, just words.
Yo! / Half a bar of chocolate.
Eat. Open your mouth.
Open your mouth.
Eat. Eat.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn.
It makes no sense.
Well, we've been grilling
him for eight hours,
and he swears that that's it.
Hophead! No sleep until
you get it right.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn!
Mend, yarn...
Maybe the clue has something to do
with a tailor or a seamstress.
You mend with yarn?
No, with thread.
You knit with yarn.
Look, so far, every clue
has paid off.
Yo, come on, think!
What'd you leave out?
Okay, mend and yarn
have a clothes theme.
Maybe top is a blouse.
How do hog and pat fit in?
Some kind of petting zoo!
Shut up!
Someone outside to see you.
Delivery for you, captain.
Detective Stabler.
Eric Liebert.
They told me you had some
information about my wife and baby.
Yeah.
Do you have a picture?
I got a call.
Somebody saw Timmy's picture
on the news.
Yeah, okay, your son is fine.
He's with protective services.
- What about Julie?
- We're looking for her.
Do you have a picture of her?
That'd really help us out.
What happened to her?
She's been abducted.
What? / Let's talk in
the squad room, okay?
Do you know anyone who
would want to harm her?
No, of course not.
Call CSU over here now.
Just give me one second.
Who is that?
It's her husband, Eric Liebert.
Sir, would you come with me,
please? / No.
What is that?
What are you hiding?
That's my wife's earring.
I gave it to her.
Oh, my god!
Is that her ear?
What did he do to her?
She didn't hurt anybody.
You gotta find her!
Take him to my office.
How in the hell did RDK
get this in here?
It was dropped off at the front desk,
addressed to the captain.
Look at the return address.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn.
Son of a bitch.
- The crack head got it right.
- Yes, he did.
But RDK ran out of patience.
A new poem came with the ear.
"Julie was so sad
to hear you were late."
"Keep us waiting again,
she'll meet a much worse fate."
It still doesn't
tell us where to go.
The clue has got to be
in the return address.
Crack head repeated
the same damn words.
It's an anagram.
I'm rearranging letters and
coming up with two street names.
Mott and Grand.
Okay.
But we still have, what?
Eight letters left.
We got P, A, P-A-Y.
Phone...
The last letters spell phone.
Pay phone at Mott and Grand.
There it is.
Plenty of windows looking
down on us, huh?
Way too many to check.
Dial tone. It's working.
All right, we're here, already!
Let's drop a dime!
Nothing...
Got some petrified gum.
Hey, hold on.
I got something.
Nothing on the outside.
"You're running out
of time. MMCXXXII."
Roman numerals. / 2,132.
So what is that, a date,
time, address?
Time, the clue's gotta be time.
"You're running out of time."
How about...
military time.
21:32 hours.
- Make it 9:32.
- That's over an hour ago.
- Maybe we missed the call.
- He made the call from somewhere.
Have Terry trace it.
Yeah, this is detective Benson.
I need a rush dump on the number
that I'm calling from.
Incoming, 9:32 P.M.
If midnight is our deadline,
we got 90 minutes.
Police!
"Congratulations."
Guys, over here.
There's a note.
"Sorry, you are too late."
"Consolation prize inside.
Unwrap and enjoy."
It's not her fault.
We were late.
45 minutes late.
He wrote his initials on her.
RDK, Rupert Daniel Kilmore.
We're back to this again now?
We've had someone on
the clockmaker all day.
He hasn't budged.
"RDK is..."
maybe the arrow points
to the answer.
No, there's nothing on her back.
Back.
That's the riddle.
RDK is back.
Well, then, who the hell is RDK?
Is Julie missing any fingers?
No, why?
I just found three on the pillow
in the bedroom, and this card.
"Fun, fun, fun, let's play again."
"For the next feather in my cap,"
"check in the policeman's helmet."
RDK was a serial killer,
who terrorized Manhattan
in the late '70s early '80s.
I had just made detective.
All but one of his
six victims were raped,
dismembered, and killed,
earning him the moniker RDK.
What happened to number six?
Jeanette Henley.
She fought back and
managed to escape.
She get a look at him?
No, he was wearing a ski mask.
Says here that she was
the last one he attacked.
Serial killers don't just stop.
They either die or get popped
for another crime.
Pull records for men who were
arrested after Jeanette was attacked,
and paroled in the last six months.
How do we know it's not a copycat?
RDK taunted police with letters,
poems, and riddles.
He left a distinct mark that was
never released to the public.
This is a copy of his first letter
dated june 9, 1979.
This is today's.
Same symbol.
First victim in '79
lost an ear and was hanged.
Just like Julie Liebert.
I'm assuming the owner of the loft
where Julie was found
is our newest victim?
Gloria Durham, age 35,
single mother.
Luckily her ex had custody
of their son this week.
She's a freelance photographer.
Had a session yesterday
at 6:00, never showed.
Any appointments earlier?
Eddie Willis at 5:00.
No contact info.
He was down in her book
a week ago for a consultation.
Could be our guy.
Let's track him down.
How was the first number two killed?
Bled to death.
Stabbed more than 100
times over four days.
By now, he's already
torturing Gloria.
And the only thing we've got
to go on is policeman's helmet.
NYPD's got 40,000 cops on the job.
Police don't wear helmets,
they wear hats.
Yes, you wear helmets.
It's not about us.
It's a flower.
What are you babbling about?
Impatiens glandulifera.
It's the latin name for
an English garden flower
known as policeman's helmet.
Think it's another anagram?
I think he wants us
to find the flower.
Well, all florists get their
stock from the flower mart.
They'd know anybody in town
that carries them.
It's 4:00 A.M.
They should be opening now.
Excuse me, sir.
You sell any policemen's helmets today?
I can't talk, wedding at 3:00,
and I'm way behind. Go!
Raoul, where the hell's
my baby's breath? / Stop!
Listen to me.
Did you get an order in today.
- Of what?
- Policeman's helmets.
This morning. The phone
was ringing when I came in.
- Then how was it paid for?
- Credit card.
Good, pull it. Pull it now.
Raoul, please don't
crush my peonies.
We need his name and
address, let's go.
I heard you.
Hers.
Gloria Durham.
Son of a bitch.
He used the victim's own credit card.
Where was it delivered?
Hasn't been. I told you,
we're insanely behind.
My truck's loading up now.
We'll save you the trouble.
There is no 2923.
He gave us a vacant lot.
He gave us a community garden.
And a broken lock.
He's pulled up every lastlower.
A lot of upturned dirt.
Maybe he buried her.
- It's not one of his M.O.s.
- Check out the shed.
Think we found our missing flowers.
And our missing girl.
It's Gloria.
We were supposed to have
four days, you prick!
There's multiple stab wounds.
- This is right by the book.
- Another clue.
Where?
Soles of her feet.
Looks like doodling.
Some kind of animal and a...
- stick man with a striped shirt.
- What's that supposed to be?
- A road map to another dead body.
- Hold on.
There's something else here.
Today's newspaper.
"B-3?
How many do I have to screw
to make A-1 above the fold?"
He didn't screw either one of them.
All of his victims are raped.
RDK, Rape, dismember, kill.
That was 25 years ago.
A guy can develop a lot of sexual
dysfunctions in a quarter of a century.
Were there semen on
the original murders?
Every one.
Unfortunately, we didn't
have the technology
back then to do anything with it.
Original second victim,
exsanguinated from 132 stab wounds.
That detail was never released.
Gloria was stabbed
the same number of times,
but that's not what killed her.
Her throat was slit.
These stab wounds were
all inflicted post-mortem.
Changing up his M.O.
to screw with us?
What can you tell us
about the weapon?
Thin, sharp, very short blade.
CSU thought that he used a box cutter
to shred the panties in the park.
Skin is a little more telling.
I'd say something even
smaller, like a scalpel.
He leave anything on her hair, fibers?
Just the ink on her feet.
Well, I am through
playing his games.
I say we pull the old case file
and re-interview the surviving victim.
Apartment Of
Jeannette Henley
38 West 84th Street
Wednesday, September 29
He stuck a knife to my throat
and dragged me in an alley.
He kept the knife at my throat
the entire time he was raping me.
He started whispering in my ear
how I was going to die
when he was done.
I can, I can still
smell the gasoline.
It was in a... soda bottle.
He started to pour it on me.
I grabbed the bottle
and splashed some in his eyes.
I took off running, trying
to scream, but I couldn't.
He cut my throat.
When did you find out it was RDK?
When I got the poem.
It came in the mail three
days later with my compact.
When I got home from the hospital,
it was waiting for me.
The police told me
what the symbol meant.
"Ode to the one who got away."
RDK's mark. / So he got your purse
during the attack.
Everything was in it.
My driver's license, the house key.
I moved out that day.
But I'm still terrified
that he'll find me.
You need to know that
he's resurfaced.
Oh, god.
What do I do?
You found me.
The reporter found me.
What reporter?
The one, the one who did
the article last month
about the 25th anniversary
of the murders.
I didn't see that story.
Neither did I.
I still think I have his card.
He was very polite.
He told me I reminded him
of his mother.
Blane Lawson,
the New York Examiner.
Miss Henley,
is there someplace
else that you can stay?
I have a sister in Queens.
Why don't you give her a call?
The reporter, did you
show him that poem?
Yes.
Lawson saw that mark.
Three weeks before
RDK's big comeback.
Yeah, we got a Blane Lawson
on staff. Works metro.
What can you tell us about him?
Real scrapper, always
brings home the story.
This is crap.
Rewrite it.
We understand he was
working a piece on RDK.
Serial killer from the late '70s.
He never mentioned it.
Lawson! / Yeah.
That's Blane? / Yeah.
Never mind.
No, the reporter we're
looking for is a white guy,
mid-40s, short, pasty.
That describes most
of my reporters.
Well, the victim that he interviewed
said that he had thick,
black-rimmed glasses.
That sounds like one
of our researchers.
Humphrey Becker.
Works in the morgue.
Look at this.
It's what they use
to cut out articles.
Exacto knife?
It's like a scalpel.
Matches the weapon used to slice
up the park victim's panties.
- And victim number two.
- May I help you?
Yeah, hi. We're looking
for, uh, Humphrey.
He's on vacation this week.
What's he like to work with?
Oh, a real inspiration.
He's a constant reminder not to get
stuck down here for 20 years, like him.
You ever get a bad vibe off him?
He's a miserable human being.
Never says a word, just stares.
Creeps me out.
Have any idea what he's
doing on vacation this week?
Probably sitting alone
in his apartment.
Finishing off one of those puzzle
books he's always working on.
Our perp has a penchant for puzzles.
Puzzles give him a smug sense of victory,
possibly to bolster a low self-esteem.
Maybe from failing art class.
These are the symbols
he drew on the victim's feet.
It's a rebus.
These pictures should string
together to spell out our clue.
He's made murder into a game.
By giving us clues, he's absolving
himself of responsibility.
If they die, it's not
his fault, it's ours.
Exactly. / I got something!
These lines from the skunk
could be scent.
Scent, oar. Center!
Next clue's at the center or something.
Or some kind of center.
These waves could be ocean
or sea next to a cross.
That's not a cross.
That's a small "T", seat!
Seat!
This little stick figure in stripes.
This is a con.
We figure he's done time.
Maybe that's him.
Interconnected circles.
Could that be a chain?
But the arrow points
to an individual link.
Link con?
Lincoln center!
Lincoln center.
Our next clue is under one
of the seats at Lincoln center.
There are more than a dozen
concert halls at Lincoln center.
You're talking thousands of seats.
Take all available manpower.
Got it, captain!
Where's Benson and Stabler?
They're executing a search
warrant on the puzzle master.
Go! Go! Go! Go!
Police!
Clear!
He's got quite a book collection.
They're all mysteries.
and he takes care of them.
Humidifiers.
He steals from libraries.
And collects night lights.
A serial killing kleptomaniac
who's afraid of the dark.
Interesting choice of wallpaper.
They're all from publishers.
"As we explained
in our previous letter,
we do not accept
unsolicited manuscripts."
This is weird.
He's taken the doors
off all the closets.
These are all rejection letters.
Why would he put them
up on his walls?
He's insane?
Check this out.
This is dated two months ago
regarding a book proposal
on serial killer RDK.
- Nice timing.
- It wasn't then.
Turned him down flat.
"At this time, we are only in the market
for recent, high-profile cases."
Like the return of RDK.
So this Humphrey is just some
crackpot pretending to be RDK?
It's looking that way.
He never made it home.
I think he made us.
Or he's out stalking his next victim.
Guy never sleeps.
I know we haven't in two days.
Gotta suck down some coffee,
do some push-ups.
Our only hope is to get
ahead of him. / Captain!
What did you find at Lincoln center?
18,900 seats.
Not counting the toilets.
Which is where he hid the next clue
in his demented little scavenger hunt.
Where'd that take you?
Fun house at Coney island,
which was anything but.
Which took us to an obscure book
on the dead sea scrolls
at the city library.
We found a note
inside the dust jacket.
"If you found this,
you deserve a reward."
"I won't grab another girl till thursday,
so relax and take in a show."
Which means he hasn't taken
victim number three yet.
It's 20 to nine. Thursday's here
in less than four hours.
That one is easy.
The clue is "take in a show."
The original third victim
was a chorus girl.
Do you know how many musicals
are on broadway right now?
The curtains went up
40 minutes ago.
This may be a long shot,
but, unlike the original RDK,
all of Humphrey's victims are mothers.
Of little boys.
To know that, he would
have had to screen them.
Hit the theater district.
Talk to dancers with sons.
John?
The original story on RDK was broken
by a reporter at the examiner.
That's Humphrey's paper.
Could explain how he
got to Jeanette Henley.
Track down this reporter,
this Morty Graf.
All right.
Conrado's Cigar Club & Lounge
253 East 51st Street
Wednesday, September 29
So, how did you get all those
RDK scoops back then?
By working long, hard hours.
Drinking with the detectives.
They ever release the number of
stab wounds in the second victim?
No, that I charmed out of little
cutie in the M.E.'s office.
You mind lighting me up, sweetheart?
No, not at all.
You ever print that detail?
Tried, damn editor came down
with a case of ethics.
So your notebooks at the paper,
you left them there when you retired?
Hell, no. Those get buried with me.
But your research assistant,
Humphrey Becker,
he would have had
access to them, right?
No, but funny you should bring him up.
Unfortunately,
the guy's a member here.
I thought you only let in
published authors.
He lied through his ass.
Claimed to be a member of
the mystery writers of America.
Plus, they were desperate.
They just lost a bunch
of long-time members.
Cancer?
Hey, the only thing killing
off members here
is being pestered by Humphrey.
He's always pumping me for old cases.
Like RDK?
Don't get me started.
Damn thing's stale.
I got a fresh stash in my locker.
Locker?
Does Humphrey have one?
Yeah. Everybody's got one.
I just set a new world record
getting these warrants,
not to mention risking my life interrupting
judge Terhune's poker game again.
Open it.
Poor baby. I've been up 40 hours.
What we got here...
Cigars, more cheap cigars.
Bingo!
We got journals.
This one's a proposal
for a ripper book.
This one's just full
of story ideas, bad ones.
This one's a how-to book
on taking over RDK's identity.
It's a diagram of Central
park running path.
Yeah, complete with descriptions
of women with babies, all boys.
This one sounds like
Julie Liebert.
This guy does his research.
Skip to the third victim.
Got a long list of musicals here.
Here's one starred. Prairie days.
This is it!
"Leggy redhead. Two-year-old
named Jake. Stage name, Red Watts."
She's number three!
Red!
Yeah?
Well, we glad to see you.
You need to come with us.
What, are you crazy?
I'm in the finale.
Is this your son Jake?
- How'd you know his name?
- We'll swing by, pick him up,
but we need to get you
someplace safe now.
What are you talking about?
Have you ever seen this man before?
Yeah, last week.
He was waiting outside the stage
door for an autograph.
Did he ask you about your son?
- Oh, my god. He did.
- Benson!
Did he hurt Jake?
No, no, no. Jake's not
the one in danger.
You just get changed.
We'll explain in the car.
I'll take care of them.
Where you going?
Jeanette Henley never made
it to her sister's.
Possible abduction
at 38 west 84th street.
Request backup, apartment 9G.
Jeanette?
Jeanette?
Congratulations.
You caught me.
What are you doing here?
I needed a place to sleep.
You people were all over
my apartment.
I figured this spot
was as good as any.
Now that it's, um, vacant.
Where's Jeanette?
Sorry, she's a little
buried at the moment.
We need you in there now.
- What's he said?
- He buried her alive.
Doesn't make sense.
RDK never did that.
- He'll only talk to the lead detective.
- What about Liv?
Wants it man to man.
This popped on his credit card.
He bought an oxygen tank yesterday.
- He's letting her breathe?
- Not for long. 15-hour capacity.
She's possibly gone
though half of it.
- Found his car inside of Jeanette's.
- Anything in it?
No, but maybe we can tell
where he took her from the tires.
Can't wait for lab results.
Victims four and five are safe.
Wait, we need a game plan.
No time.
Where is she?
Huh?
Oh.
Sorry. I must have dozed off.
Tell me...
is it true only the guilty sleep?
Yeah, it is.
Well, then, I guess you got me.
But in my own defense,
I must say I am just pooped.
Oh, my, oh, my, look at the time.
You must be, too.
Well, I haven't slept in two days.
I know, but wasn't it fun?
No.
No, actually, it wasn't.
And in case you haven't
heard, you lost.
And yet, and yet, and yet,
where in the world is Jeanette?
I guarantee you're gonna tell me.
Oh, I get it.
Bad cop.
Okay, fine.
But remember the rules.
You don't get a good cop
to play off of.
- No help from the peanut gallery.
- I don't need any help.
Who are you kidding?
I'm a big fish.
I'm sure the entire department's
right behind that mirror.
Hello.
If I'm stuck in here,
so is he.
Anyone walks in or out
that door, game's over.
I'll play.
Good.
I'm the final clue.
Okay.
Think you're smart enough
to get it out of me?
One way or another.
Oh.
I must warn you,
I am going to be quite the challenge.
I know every trick in the book.
I've written 27 of them.
I know, I saw your rejection letters.
Maybe I'll take another nap now.
Uh, yeah, baby, I'm kind
of working right here. What's up?
Belittling him is only gonna
shut him down.
He obviously wanted to get caught.
He craves attention and recognition.
Play to his vanity.
He's been a loser all his life.
Give him his 15 minutes.
I'll try, but I'm
a little pressed for time.
Love you, too. Bye-bye.
Who was that?
My wife. I'm sorry.
No, I'm sorry that you
find me so boring.
Boring? No. I don't
find you boring at all.
Then turn off the damn phone!
Sorry.
You know, I think you misunderstood
what I said back there.
- About what?
- Your books.
You wrote 27 of them.
That takes a lot of time and effort.
I'd be flattered if you'd
actually read one.
I'd like to.
This whole plot that you
cooked up here.
Very clever. / Clever.
It was brilliant.
Okay, brilliant.
It's a shame about
the son of sam law, though.
What do you mean?
The book is obviously
gonna be a bestseller,
but unfortunately you can't
profit off your own crimes.
No, no, no.
It's not about the money.
What's it about?
Proving them all wrong.
- Becoming famous.
- You're on your way there.
You think? / I do. Serial killers
are very popular.
Yeah, yeah.
I'm gonna be a legend.
That'll show her.
Her?
Them. Those small-minded publishers.
You said her.
Well, I'm done talking now.
Come on, Humphrey!
Come on, don't do that.
Let's talk about you now.
I guess you're just gonna
have to buy my book.
Okay, just tell me this.
Your next victim was supposed
to be the chorus girl.
Why skip to Jeanette?
Because you figured out who I was.
I was forced to jump ahead
to my piece de resistance.
RDK's original sixth victim.
Yes. The one that got away.
She eluded him, but not me.
Well, she's 65 years old.
Not looking good for 66.
Why, detective, is that your
phone vibrating,
or do you just find me
terribly exciting?
911 from the wife.
I talked to Novak.
He gives us her location, she'll take
the death penalty off the table.
Oh, I don't know.
You know how I hate letting the kids
get away with that kind of thing.
Okay, bye-bye.
Oh, no "I love you" this time?
It rings one more time,
and we're done!
As is Jeanette!
Okay, look, you win!
You win everything.
And what exactly do I win, detective?
How about your life?
Tell us where Jeanette is,
and we take the death
penalty off the table.
You don't have the authority to do that.
I'll give it to you in writing.
Okay, well, just to clarify,
what if I do tell you
where she is
but she's sucked up all
the oxygen and died on us?
How much air is left in the tank?
Technically,
four hours, 28 minutes,
and 30, 28, 27, 26 seconds.
Assuming she's breathing normally.
Of course, people do tend to breathe
harder when they're panicked.
There's no reason to do this to her.
She must be so frightened
in that small, cramped space.
I wonder if her eyes
have adjusted to the dark.
If so, she can see the needle
on the tank approaching empty.
You want to talk to me man to man?
You're no man.
You just attack helpless women.
Now, you're gonna tell me
where Jeanette is,
or I'm gonna choke
the life out of you.
Do it!
How does that feel?
No air in your lungs.
How does that feel now?
Now, you're gonna tell me
where Jeanette is, you freak.
Elliot, stop it!
Come on, stop it!
Let go. Let go.
Five minutes with him.
Let's go! Let's go!
Just when we were
starting to have fun.
Game's over, detective!
You lose. You broke the rules.
- You brought in help.
- No, he didn't.
I'm a doctor.
I'm here to help you.
- Can you breathe all right?
- Yeah. I'm fine.
What about Jeanette?
She was dead when you
buried her, wasn't she?
Quite the contrary.
She was alive and kicking.
I believe you.
What is that, huh?
Poor man's lie detector test?
Taking my pulse while
you interrogate me, detective?
I'm not a detective.
And I'm not stupid.
I really am a doctor.
And I'm also with the FBI.
They brought you in here
to profile me.
We've got a whole team on you.
Really?
And what are they saying about me?
That you're impotent.
I told them that they were wrong.
Now, why would they say that?
Because you mimicked RDK
in every detail,
except that RDK's victims were
all raped, and yours weren't.
They have no idea what
I did to those women.
Well, you didn't rape them.
And I know why.
Do tell.
Because it would have been like
having sex with your mother.
What are you talking about?
You targeted women with children.
You told Jeanette she reminded
you of your mother.
You let those little boys go unharmed
because they were innocents.
Do we know if the mother
is still alive?
I'll find out.
How disappointing.
And you look so smart.
You have a deep-seated rage
against women, and yet
you identify with their sons.
What did your mother do to you?
Please.
With you people,
it's always the mother.
There must be some mistake.
This isn't my Humphrey.
Captain, this is Mrs. Becker.
Ida. Everyone calls me Ida.
Even Humphrey, since he was five.
Thank you for coming, ma'am.
Sorry to drag you out in the rain.
Oh, it stopped on the way over.
Right this way, ma'am.
It doesn't make sense, you know.
He was destined for such great things.
- I named him after a legend.
- Bogart.
Wasn't he wonderful?
Mrs. Becker was just telling me
that she hasn't seen her son
in over 25 years.
You had a falling out?
Over the scandal.
I worked 2 jobs to put him
through journalism school.
He was gonna be a reporter,
just like bogie in his final film,
the harder they fall.
You mentioned a scandal?
Oh, he plagiarized his honors thesis.
All my hard work, out the window.
He was thrown out.
- Hey, Mrs. Becker, um...
- You know, just disgraced.
I know, we really, really need
to get you in there. Come on.
Oh, yeah, sure.
Anything I can do to help.
Humphrey?
What's happened to you?
Ida?
You two must have
a lot of catching up to do.
Here, have a seat, Mrs. Becker.
Your hair!
What did you do to it?
You, you haven't changed a bit.
You should have seen him
when he was little.
Head full of curls.
Um, they're not interested
in my childhood.
Oh... but we are.
Nice play.
You mind giving us
a few minutes alone?
Sorry. Against my rules.
Humphrey, tell them where
you put the lady.
Um, stay out of this, Ida.
Why, when she's such
a big part of it?
Okay...
you want to know
where she is, Ida?
She's in a lonely place.
Ready for the big sleep.
Those are bogie films.
- You're a disgrace to his name.
- You like that?
You're gonna love this.
One of the aliases I used
was Eddie Willis.
Bogie's last role.
I knew you'd be pleased.
Why don't you tell your mother
what you've been up to lately?
Why don't you shut
your damn pie hole?
Language.
You know how I feel
about curse words.
Even when bogie played a bad guy,
he never worked blue.
Sorry, Ida.
Didn't mean to disappoint you...
- yet again.
- I should be used to it.
- I had such high hopes for him.
- Well, it was nice visiting.
You were supposed to grow up
to be somebody.
I'm sitting right here.
In a police station.
Do you have any idea how
embarrassing this is for me?
I did this for you, Ida.
I'm finally going to be famous,
just like you always wanted.
Happy now? / You were
never anything but trouble.
He was a difficult child?
You can't imagine.
- Shut up, Ida.
- I couldn't take him anywhere!
- Not even my movies.
- Shut up.
Soon as the lights went down,
he'd throw a tantrum!
- Stop it.
- He's afraid of the dark?
- He was a crybaby!
- Stop it!
He'd cry like a baby till
they'd ask us to leave.
Oh, you sure in hell figured
out a way to see them.
How did you manage that, Ida.
- Never mind!
- I'd like to know.
What else could I do?
I had to leave him at home.
Alone? / I made sure that he
couldn't get in trouble.
Shut up, Ida!
That's why you took the doors off.
She locked you in the closet.
Well, you know, he might have hurt
himself running around the house.
- That's enough!
- It was only for two hours.
But he'd get so worked up,
he'd soil himself.
Shut up! Please!
Shut up!
Don't you ever shut up?
Don't you ever shut up?
I'll kill you, you bitch!
You bitch!
You see how he treats his mother.
Claustrophobic.
Wait!
No, let me go.
Where are you taking me?
My game room!
No!
No! No!
Please! Don't!
You need another clue?
Wouldn't want to leave
you in the dark.
No, please! Please,
you can't do this!
Relax, Humphrey.
It's just a game!
No, let me out!
Tell us where Jeanette is!
Let me out, and I'll tell you!
You tell me, I'll let you out!
Thought you could use this.
Please, I can't breathe.
Where is she?
Where is she!
In a dump in Staten island.
In a refrigerator
with a chain around it.
Now please let me out!
Jeanette first!
I'll call ESU.
Open it!
She alive?
Barely breathing.
Needle's on the red.
She's almost out.
He found me.
I told you he'd find me.
You're safe now.
He'll get out.
I just know it.
He'll never stop till he gets me.
Believe me, he'll never get out,
never.
sexually-based offenses are
considered especially heinous.
In New York City,
the dedicated detectives who investigate
these vicious felonies are members
of an elite squad known
as The Special Victims Unit.
These are their stories.
I think I'm having
a heart attack!
It's just a cramp.
Run through it, Bernie.
You gotta let me rest.
Uh-uh, rest is a four-letter word.
Let's think positive.
No, stop!
Bernie...
There's a baby in here.
With a note taped to it.
Oh... Hey.
Someone abandoned him?
Not according to this.
The mom was abducted.
Yeah, no ID in the
jogger's stroller.
Drag marks end here.
Well, the perp or perps
must have had a car waiting,
forces her inside, peels out.
Find any footprints?
Over here in a patch of dirt.
It's small.
I figure it's hers.
Which leads into here.
This is a perfect place for a rape.
It's isolated. There's
no view from any direction.
Yeah, but why abduct her
if he's already raped her?
These are not just ripped.
They're shredded.
Ultra-sharp blade, thin.
Maybe a box cutter.
Hard to say no to.
Especially if he's
threatening the baby.
Is he okay?
A little hungry,
but no sign of trauma.
I'm taking him to the ER
for a full exam.
Note was stuck to
the kid with duct tape.
Which he could have used
to bind and gag mom.
- This guy came prepared.
- Yeah, I'll say.
The note was pre-printed
from a computer.
Will you show him?
He signed it,
Rupert Daniel Kilmore.
I'm not sure if that's his real name
or the author of this poem.
Poem.
"The mean, mean man
has a monster in his head."
"Find him by tomorrow
or my mommy will be dead."
Law & Order SVU
6x04 Scavenger
ORIGINAL AIR DATE ON NBC: 2004/10/19
This guy have a vendetta against all
mothers or this one in particular?
Who knows? We don't even have
a bead on our victim yet.
Well, he's given us
a day to figure it out.
Does that mean same time tomorrow,
or midnight tonight?
Let's assume worst-case scenario.
That gives us 13 hours.
Figure the prints on the baby's s
troller are mom's.
No hits in the system.
Nothing from Missing Persons.
And if there is a husband,
he might not know till
he gets back from work.
All right, that leaves us
with the stroller and the baby.
We're checking the gift registries.
This jogger's stroller is a huge seller.
The baby's one of a kind.
Let's get his picture out on the news.
Just say a baby was found.
Withhold all details.
Not many to give.
Only prints on the note are
from the jogger who found it.
Well, what about the name?
There's no listing in Manhattan
for a Rupert Kilmore.
The closest one is Staten island.
Get going.
Kilmore Time
Sales & Repair
Staten Island, New York
Tuesday, September 28
You got a sec?
Uh, 60 every minute.
Unfortunately, this little
guy only has 52.
Hairspring's gummed up.
You're really into time, Rupert.
Fourth generation horologist.
What are you in the market for?
Missing woman.
Who? / We're hoping
that you can tell us.
Seeing as your name is written
on a note threatening to kill her.
You've got the wrong
Rupert Kilmore.
You're the only one
in this time zone.
So tell us, Rupert, why would
a rapist use your full name?
Rapist? I have no idea.
Kilmore time.
Yes, they're standing right here.
Hello? Hello?
- Who is that?
- He didn't say.
Just asked if the cops were here,
and to give them the facts.
I swear, I don't know anything.
Not facts, fax.
Son of a bitch is watching us.
It's another poem.
"Once there were some cops so dumb."
"Took them hours to
get to clue number one."
"Mommy's running out of time,"
"so the answer is written
above the rhyme."
The header. Jiffy's copy center.
That's right down the street.
There it is.
Police!
We'd appreciate your cooperation.
Nobody leaves until we say so.
This was faxed from here
a few minutes ago. Who sent it?
Uh, was there a cover sheet?
No.
Black guy, thin.
- Really antsy.
- Where did he go?
He just paid and left.
He didn't even wait for me to send it.
Could be on any paper in here.
What was he wearing?
A ratty, long overcoat.
He looked like a homeless guy.
Okay, a homeless guy
just left here.
Has anyone seen him?
Could have the man
I passed coming in.
He was heading toward the alley.
- What is this, another game?
- Yeah, hide and seek.
Got you, dirt bag!
Up!
Hands up! Hands up!
But they're so heavy.
- Shut up.
- Where is she?
- Who?
- The woman! Where is she?
Uh, oh, oh, you must be the cops
I was supposed to wait for.
What are you talking about?
- The man I sent the fax for.
- Right, right, who was that?
Who? Who?
Who?
The man! Who is it?
He stuck a knife in my back.
He gave me the fax and 20 bucks.
Hey! Hey!
Why were you supposed
to wait here for us?
Give you the message.
Message?
Where's the message.
In here.
Oh, that's just great.
- What is it?
- What's what?
- The clue!
- He needs sugar.
Okay, I want you to
think now, okay?
- He told you to memorize it, right?
- Right!
Right. Was it a poem?
No, no, it didn't rhyme.
Okay, was it a riddle?
Uh, no, just, just words.
Yo! / Half a bar of chocolate.
Eat. Open your mouth.
Open your mouth.
Eat. Eat.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn.
It makes no sense.
Well, we've been grilling
him for eight hours,
and he swears that that's it.
Hophead! No sleep until
you get it right.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn!
Mend, yarn...
Maybe the clue has something to do
with a tailor or a seamstress.
You mend with yarn?
No, with thread.
You knit with yarn.
Look, so far, every clue
has paid off.
Yo, come on, think!
What'd you leave out?
Okay, mend and yarn
have a clothes theme.
Maybe top is a blouse.
How do hog and pat fit in?
Some kind of petting zoo!
Shut up!
Someone outside to see you.
Delivery for you, captain.
Detective Stabler.
Eric Liebert.
They told me you had some
information about my wife and baby.
Yeah.
Do you have a picture?
I got a call.
Somebody saw Timmy's picture
on the news.
Yeah, okay, your son is fine.
He's with protective services.
- What about Julie?
- We're looking for her.
Do you have a picture of her?
That'd really help us out.
What happened to her?
She's been abducted.
What? / Let's talk in
the squad room, okay?
Do you know anyone who
would want to harm her?
No, of course not.
Call CSU over here now.
Just give me one second.
Who is that?
It's her husband, Eric Liebert.
Sir, would you come with me,
please? / No.
What is that?
What are you hiding?
That's my wife's earring.
I gave it to her.
Oh, my god!
Is that her ear?
What did he do to her?
She didn't hurt anybody.
You gotta find her!
Take him to my office.
How in the hell did RDK
get this in here?
It was dropped off at the front desk,
addressed to the captain.
Look at the return address.
Hog, pat, mend, top, yarn.
Son of a bitch.
- The crack head got it right.
- Yes, he did.
But RDK ran out of patience.
A new poem came with the ear.
"Julie was so sad
to hear you were late."
"Keep us waiting again,
she'll meet a much worse fate."
It still doesn't
tell us where to go.
The clue has got to be
in the return address.
Crack head repeated
the same damn words.
It's an anagram.
I'm rearranging letters and
coming up with two street names.
Mott and Grand.
Okay.
But we still have, what?
Eight letters left.
We got P, A, P-A-Y.
Phone...
The last letters spell phone.
Pay phone at Mott and Grand.
There it is.
Plenty of windows looking
down on us, huh?
Way too many to check.
Dial tone. It's working.
All right, we're here, already!
Let's drop a dime!
Nothing...
Got some petrified gum.
Hey, hold on.
I got something.
Nothing on the outside.
"You're running out
of time. MMCXXXII."
Roman numerals. / 2,132.
So what is that, a date,
time, address?
Time, the clue's gotta be time.
"You're running out of time."
How about...
military time.
21:32 hours.
- Make it 9:32.
- That's over an hour ago.
- Maybe we missed the call.
- He made the call from somewhere.
Have Terry trace it.
Yeah, this is detective Benson.
I need a rush dump on the number
that I'm calling from.
Incoming, 9:32 P.M.
If midnight is our deadline,
we got 90 minutes.
Police!
"Congratulations."
Guys, over here.
There's a note.
"Sorry, you are too late."
"Consolation prize inside.
Unwrap and enjoy."
It's not her fault.
We were late.
45 minutes late.
He wrote his initials on her.
RDK, Rupert Daniel Kilmore.
We're back to this again now?
We've had someone on
the clockmaker all day.
He hasn't budged.
"RDK is..."
maybe the arrow points
to the answer.
No, there's nothing on her back.
Back.
That's the riddle.
RDK is back.
Well, then, who the hell is RDK?
Is Julie missing any fingers?
No, why?
I just found three on the pillow
in the bedroom, and this card.
"Fun, fun, fun, let's play again."
"For the next feather in my cap,"
"check in the policeman's helmet."
RDK was a serial killer,
who terrorized Manhattan
in the late '70s early '80s.
I had just made detective.
All but one of his
six victims were raped,
dismembered, and killed,
earning him the moniker RDK.
What happened to number six?
Jeanette Henley.
She fought back and
managed to escape.
She get a look at him?
No, he was wearing a ski mask.
Says here that she was
the last one he attacked.
Serial killers don't just stop.
They either die or get popped
for another crime.
Pull records for men who were
arrested after Jeanette was attacked,
and paroled in the last six months.
How do we know it's not a copycat?
RDK taunted police with letters,
poems, and riddles.
He left a distinct mark that was
never released to the public.
This is a copy of his first letter
dated june 9, 1979.
This is today's.
Same symbol.
First victim in '79
lost an ear and was hanged.
Just like Julie Liebert.
I'm assuming the owner of the loft
where Julie was found
is our newest victim?
Gloria Durham, age 35,
single mother.
Luckily her ex had custody
of their son this week.
She's a freelance photographer.
Had a session yesterday
at 6:00, never showed.
Any appointments earlier?
Eddie Willis at 5:00.
No contact info.
He was down in her book
a week ago for a consultation.
Could be our guy.
Let's track him down.
How was the first number two killed?
Bled to death.
Stabbed more than 100
times over four days.
By now, he's already
torturing Gloria.
And the only thing we've got
to go on is policeman's helmet.
NYPD's got 40,000 cops on the job.
Police don't wear helmets,
they wear hats.
Yes, you wear helmets.
It's not about us.
It's a flower.
What are you babbling about?
Impatiens glandulifera.
It's the latin name for
an English garden flower
known as policeman's helmet.
Think it's another anagram?
I think he wants us
to find the flower.
Well, all florists get their
stock from the flower mart.
They'd know anybody in town
that carries them.
It's 4:00 A.M.
They should be opening now.
Excuse me, sir.
You sell any policemen's helmets today?
I can't talk, wedding at 3:00,
and I'm way behind. Go!
Raoul, where the hell's
my baby's breath? / Stop!
Listen to me.
Did you get an order in today.
- Of what?
- Policeman's helmets.
This morning. The phone
was ringing when I came in.
- Then how was it paid for?
- Credit card.
Good, pull it. Pull it now.
Raoul, please don't
crush my peonies.
We need his name and
address, let's go.
I heard you.
Hers.
Gloria Durham.
Son of a bitch.
He used the victim's own credit card.
Where was it delivered?
Hasn't been. I told you,
we're insanely behind.
My truck's loading up now.
We'll save you the trouble.
There is no 2923.
He gave us a vacant lot.
He gave us a community garden.
And a broken lock.
He's pulled up every lastlower.
A lot of upturned dirt.
Maybe he buried her.
- It's not one of his M.O.s.
- Check out the shed.
Think we found our missing flowers.
And our missing girl.
It's Gloria.
We were supposed to have
four days, you prick!
There's multiple stab wounds.
- This is right by the book.
- Another clue.
Where?
Soles of her feet.
Looks like doodling.
Some kind of animal and a...
- stick man with a striped shirt.
- What's that supposed to be?
- A road map to another dead body.
- Hold on.
There's something else here.
Today's newspaper.
"B-3?
How many do I have to screw
to make A-1 above the fold?"
He didn't screw either one of them.
All of his victims are raped.
RDK, Rape, dismember, kill.
That was 25 years ago.
A guy can develop a lot of sexual
dysfunctions in a quarter of a century.
Were there semen on
the original murders?
Every one.
Unfortunately, we didn't
have the technology
back then to do anything with it.
Original second victim,
exsanguinated from 132 stab wounds.
That detail was never released.
Gloria was stabbed
the same number of times,
but that's not what killed her.
Her throat was slit.
These stab wounds were
all inflicted post-mortem.
Changing up his M.O.
to screw with us?
What can you tell us
about the weapon?
Thin, sharp, very short blade.
CSU thought that he used a box cutter
to shred the panties in the park.
Skin is a little more telling.
I'd say something even
smaller, like a scalpel.
He leave anything on her hair, fibers?
Just the ink on her feet.
Well, I am through
playing his games.
I say we pull the old case file
and re-interview the surviving victim.
Apartment Of
Jeannette Henley
38 West 84th Street
Wednesday, September 29
He stuck a knife to my throat
and dragged me in an alley.
He kept the knife at my throat
the entire time he was raping me.
He started whispering in my ear
how I was going to die
when he was done.
I can, I can still
smell the gasoline.
It was in a... soda bottle.
He started to pour it on me.
I grabbed the bottle
and splashed some in his eyes.
I took off running, trying
to scream, but I couldn't.
He cut my throat.
When did you find out it was RDK?
When I got the poem.
It came in the mail three
days later with my compact.
When I got home from the hospital,
it was waiting for me.
The police told me
what the symbol meant.
"Ode to the one who got away."
RDK's mark. / So he got your purse
during the attack.
Everything was in it.
My driver's license, the house key.
I moved out that day.
But I'm still terrified
that he'll find me.
You need to know that
he's resurfaced.
Oh, god.
What do I do?
You found me.
The reporter found me.
What reporter?
The one, the one who did
the article last month
about the 25th anniversary
of the murders.
I didn't see that story.
Neither did I.
I still think I have his card.
He was very polite.
He told me I reminded him
of his mother.
Blane Lawson,
the New York Examiner.
Miss Henley,
is there someplace
else that you can stay?
I have a sister in Queens.
Why don't you give her a call?
The reporter, did you
show him that poem?
Yes.
Lawson saw that mark.
Three weeks before
RDK's big comeback.
Yeah, we got a Blane Lawson
on staff. Works metro.
What can you tell us about him?
Real scrapper, always
brings home the story.
This is crap.
Rewrite it.
We understand he was
working a piece on RDK.
Serial killer from the late '70s.
He never mentioned it.
Lawson! / Yeah.
That's Blane? / Yeah.
Never mind.
No, the reporter we're
looking for is a white guy,
mid-40s, short, pasty.
That describes most
of my reporters.
Well, the victim that he interviewed
said that he had thick,
black-rimmed glasses.
That sounds like one
of our researchers.
Humphrey Becker.
Works in the morgue.
Look at this.
It's what they use
to cut out articles.
Exacto knife?
It's like a scalpel.
Matches the weapon used to slice
up the park victim's panties.
- And victim number two.
- May I help you?
Yeah, hi. We're looking
for, uh, Humphrey.
He's on vacation this week.
What's he like to work with?
Oh, a real inspiration.
He's a constant reminder not to get
stuck down here for 20 years, like him.
You ever get a bad vibe off him?
He's a miserable human being.
Never says a word, just stares.
Creeps me out.
Have any idea what he's
doing on vacation this week?
Probably sitting alone
in his apartment.
Finishing off one of those puzzle
books he's always working on.
Our perp has a penchant for puzzles.
Puzzles give him a smug sense of victory,
possibly to bolster a low self-esteem.
Maybe from failing art class.
These are the symbols
he drew on the victim's feet.
It's a rebus.
These pictures should string
together to spell out our clue.
He's made murder into a game.
By giving us clues, he's absolving
himself of responsibility.
If they die, it's not
his fault, it's ours.
Exactly. / I got something!
These lines from the skunk
could be scent.
Scent, oar. Center!
Next clue's at the center or something.
Or some kind of center.
These waves could be ocean
or sea next to a cross.
That's not a cross.
That's a small "T", seat!
Seat!
This little stick figure in stripes.
This is a con.
We figure he's done time.
Maybe that's him.
Interconnected circles.
Could that be a chain?
But the arrow points
to an individual link.
Link con?
Lincoln center!
Lincoln center.
Our next clue is under one
of the seats at Lincoln center.
There are more than a dozen
concert halls at Lincoln center.
You're talking thousands of seats.
Take all available manpower.
Got it, captain!
Where's Benson and Stabler?
They're executing a search
warrant on the puzzle master.
Go! Go! Go! Go!
Police!
Clear!
He's got quite a book collection.
They're all mysteries.
and he takes care of them.
Humidifiers.
He steals from libraries.
And collects night lights.
A serial killing kleptomaniac
who's afraid of the dark.
Interesting choice of wallpaper.
They're all from publishers.
"As we explained
in our previous letter,
we do not accept
unsolicited manuscripts."
This is weird.
He's taken the doors
off all the closets.
These are all rejection letters.
Why would he put them
up on his walls?
He's insane?
Check this out.
This is dated two months ago
regarding a book proposal
on serial killer RDK.
- Nice timing.
- It wasn't then.
Turned him down flat.
"At this time, we are only in the market
for recent, high-profile cases."
Like the return of RDK.
So this Humphrey is just some
crackpot pretending to be RDK?
It's looking that way.
He never made it home.
I think he made us.
Or he's out stalking his next victim.
Guy never sleeps.
I know we haven't in two days.
Gotta suck down some coffee,
do some push-ups.
Our only hope is to get
ahead of him. / Captain!
What did you find at Lincoln center?
18,900 seats.
Not counting the toilets.
Which is where he hid the next clue
in his demented little scavenger hunt.
Where'd that take you?
Fun house at Coney island,
which was anything but.
Which took us to an obscure book
on the dead sea scrolls
at the city library.
We found a note
inside the dust jacket.
"If you found this,
you deserve a reward."
"I won't grab another girl till thursday,
so relax and take in a show."
Which means he hasn't taken
victim number three yet.
It's 20 to nine. Thursday's here
in less than four hours.
That one is easy.
The clue is "take in a show."
The original third victim
was a chorus girl.
Do you know how many musicals
are on broadway right now?
The curtains went up
40 minutes ago.
This may be a long shot,
but, unlike the original RDK,
all of Humphrey's victims are mothers.
Of little boys.
To know that, he would
have had to screen them.
Hit the theater district.
Talk to dancers with sons.
John?
The original story on RDK was broken
by a reporter at the examiner.
That's Humphrey's paper.
Could explain how he
got to Jeanette Henley.
Track down this reporter,
this Morty Graf.
All right.
Conrado's Cigar Club & Lounge
253 East 51st Street
Wednesday, September 29
So, how did you get all those
RDK scoops back then?
By working long, hard hours.
Drinking with the detectives.
They ever release the number of
stab wounds in the second victim?
No, that I charmed out of little
cutie in the M.E.'s office.
You mind lighting me up, sweetheart?
No, not at all.
You ever print that detail?
Tried, damn editor came down
with a case of ethics.
So your notebooks at the paper,
you left them there when you retired?
Hell, no. Those get buried with me.
But your research assistant,
Humphrey Becker,
he would have had
access to them, right?
No, but funny you should bring him up.
Unfortunately,
the guy's a member here.
I thought you only let in
published authors.
He lied through his ass.
Claimed to be a member of
the mystery writers of America.
Plus, they were desperate.
They just lost a bunch
of long-time members.
Cancer?
Hey, the only thing killing
off members here
is being pestered by Humphrey.
He's always pumping me for old cases.
Like RDK?
Don't get me started.
Damn thing's stale.
I got a fresh stash in my locker.
Locker?
Does Humphrey have one?
Yeah. Everybody's got one.
I just set a new world record
getting these warrants,
not to mention risking my life interrupting
judge Terhune's poker game again.
Open it.
Poor baby. I've been up 40 hours.
What we got here...
Cigars, more cheap cigars.
Bingo!
We got journals.
This one's a proposal
for a ripper book.
This one's just full
of story ideas, bad ones.
This one's a how-to book
on taking over RDK's identity.
It's a diagram of Central
park running path.
Yeah, complete with descriptions
of women with babies, all boys.
This one sounds like
Julie Liebert.
This guy does his research.
Skip to the third victim.
Got a long list of musicals here.
Here's one starred. Prairie days.
This is it!
"Leggy redhead. Two-year-old
named Jake. Stage name, Red Watts."
She's number three!
Red!
Yeah?
Well, we glad to see you.
You need to come with us.
What, are you crazy?
I'm in the finale.
Is this your son Jake?
- How'd you know his name?
- We'll swing by, pick him up,
but we need to get you
someplace safe now.
What are you talking about?
Have you ever seen this man before?
Yeah, last week.
He was waiting outside the stage
door for an autograph.
Did he ask you about your son?
- Oh, my god. He did.
- Benson!
Did he hurt Jake?
No, no, no. Jake's not
the one in danger.
You just get changed.
We'll explain in the car.
I'll take care of them.
Where you going?
Jeanette Henley never made
it to her sister's.
Possible abduction
at 38 west 84th street.
Request backup, apartment 9G.
Jeanette?
Jeanette?
Congratulations.
You caught me.
What are you doing here?
I needed a place to sleep.
You people were all over
my apartment.
I figured this spot
was as good as any.
Now that it's, um, vacant.
Where's Jeanette?
Sorry, she's a little
buried at the moment.
We need you in there now.
- What's he said?
- He buried her alive.
Doesn't make sense.
RDK never did that.
- He'll only talk to the lead detective.
- What about Liv?
Wants it man to man.
This popped on his credit card.
He bought an oxygen tank yesterday.
- He's letting her breathe?
- Not for long. 15-hour capacity.
She's possibly gone
though half of it.
- Found his car inside of Jeanette's.
- Anything in it?
No, but maybe we can tell
where he took her from the tires.
Can't wait for lab results.
Victims four and five are safe.
Wait, we need a game plan.
No time.
Where is she?
Huh?
Oh.
Sorry. I must have dozed off.
Tell me...
is it true only the guilty sleep?
Yeah, it is.
Well, then, I guess you got me.
But in my own defense,
I must say I am just pooped.
Oh, my, oh, my, look at the time.
You must be, too.
Well, I haven't slept in two days.
I know, but wasn't it fun?
No.
No, actually, it wasn't.
And in case you haven't
heard, you lost.
And yet, and yet, and yet,
where in the world is Jeanette?
I guarantee you're gonna tell me.
Oh, I get it.
Bad cop.
Okay, fine.
But remember the rules.
You don't get a good cop
to play off of.
- No help from the peanut gallery.
- I don't need any help.
Who are you kidding?
I'm a big fish.
I'm sure the entire department's
right behind that mirror.
Hello.
If I'm stuck in here,
so is he.
Anyone walks in or out
that door, game's over.
I'll play.
Good.
I'm the final clue.
Okay.
Think you're smart enough
to get it out of me?
One way or another.
Oh.
I must warn you,
I am going to be quite the challenge.
I know every trick in the book.
I've written 27 of them.
I know, I saw your rejection letters.
Maybe I'll take another nap now.
Uh, yeah, baby, I'm kind
of working right here. What's up?
Belittling him is only gonna
shut him down.
He obviously wanted to get caught.
He craves attention and recognition.
Play to his vanity.
He's been a loser all his life.
Give him his 15 minutes.
I'll try, but I'm
a little pressed for time.
Love you, too. Bye-bye.
Who was that?
My wife. I'm sorry.
No, I'm sorry that you
find me so boring.
Boring? No. I don't
find you boring at all.
Then turn off the damn phone!
Sorry.
You know, I think you misunderstood
what I said back there.
- About what?
- Your books.
You wrote 27 of them.
That takes a lot of time and effort.
I'd be flattered if you'd
actually read one.
I'd like to.
This whole plot that you
cooked up here.
Very clever. / Clever.
It was brilliant.
Okay, brilliant.
It's a shame about
the son of sam law, though.
What do you mean?
The book is obviously
gonna be a bestseller,
but unfortunately you can't
profit off your own crimes.
No, no, no.
It's not about the money.
What's it about?
Proving them all wrong.
- Becoming famous.
- You're on your way there.
You think? / I do. Serial killers
are very popular.
Yeah, yeah.
I'm gonna be a legend.
That'll show her.
Her?
Them. Those small-minded publishers.
You said her.
Well, I'm done talking now.
Come on, Humphrey!
Come on, don't do that.
Let's talk about you now.
I guess you're just gonna
have to buy my book.
Okay, just tell me this.
Your next victim was supposed
to be the chorus girl.
Why skip to Jeanette?
Because you figured out who I was.
I was forced to jump ahead
to my piece de resistance.
RDK's original sixth victim.
Yes. The one that got away.
She eluded him, but not me.
Well, she's 65 years old.
Not looking good for 66.
Why, detective, is that your
phone vibrating,
or do you just find me
terribly exciting?
911 from the wife.
I talked to Novak.
He gives us her location, she'll take
the death penalty off the table.
Oh, I don't know.
You know how I hate letting the kids
get away with that kind of thing.
Okay, bye-bye.
Oh, no "I love you" this time?
It rings one more time,
and we're done!
As is Jeanette!
Okay, look, you win!
You win everything.
And what exactly do I win, detective?
How about your life?
Tell us where Jeanette is,
and we take the death
penalty off the table.
You don't have the authority to do that.
I'll give it to you in writing.
Okay, well, just to clarify,
what if I do tell you
where she is
but she's sucked up all
the oxygen and died on us?
How much air is left in the tank?
Technically,
four hours, 28 minutes,
and 30, 28, 27, 26 seconds.
Assuming she's breathing normally.
Of course, people do tend to breathe
harder when they're panicked.
There's no reason to do this to her.
She must be so frightened
in that small, cramped space.
I wonder if her eyes
have adjusted to the dark.
If so, she can see the needle
on the tank approaching empty.
You want to talk to me man to man?
You're no man.
You just attack helpless women.
Now, you're gonna tell me
where Jeanette is,
or I'm gonna choke
the life out of you.
Do it!
How does that feel?
No air in your lungs.
How does that feel now?
Now, you're gonna tell me
where Jeanette is, you freak.
Elliot, stop it!
Come on, stop it!
Let go. Let go.
Five minutes with him.
Let's go! Let's go!
Just when we were
starting to have fun.
Game's over, detective!
You lose. You broke the rules.
- You brought in help.
- No, he didn't.
I'm a doctor.
I'm here to help you.
- Can you breathe all right?
- Yeah. I'm fine.
What about Jeanette?
She was dead when you
buried her, wasn't she?
Quite the contrary.
She was alive and kicking.
I believe you.
What is that, huh?
Poor man's lie detector test?
Taking my pulse while
you interrogate me, detective?
I'm not a detective.
And I'm not stupid.
I really am a doctor.
And I'm also with the FBI.
They brought you in here
to profile me.
We've got a whole team on you.
Really?
And what are they saying about me?
That you're impotent.
I told them that they were wrong.
Now, why would they say that?
Because you mimicked RDK
in every detail,
except that RDK's victims were
all raped, and yours weren't.
They have no idea what
I did to those women.
Well, you didn't rape them.
And I know why.
Do tell.
Because it would have been like
having sex with your mother.
What are you talking about?
You targeted women with children.
You told Jeanette she reminded
you of your mother.
You let those little boys go unharmed
because they were innocents.
Do we know if the mother
is still alive?
I'll find out.
How disappointing.
And you look so smart.
You have a deep-seated rage
against women, and yet
you identify with their sons.
What did your mother do to you?
Please.
With you people,
it's always the mother.
There must be some mistake.
This isn't my Humphrey.
Captain, this is Mrs. Becker.
Ida. Everyone calls me Ida.
Even Humphrey, since he was five.
Thank you for coming, ma'am.
Sorry to drag you out in the rain.
Oh, it stopped on the way over.
Right this way, ma'am.
It doesn't make sense, you know.
He was destined for such great things.
- I named him after a legend.
- Bogart.
Wasn't he wonderful?
Mrs. Becker was just telling me
that she hasn't seen her son
in over 25 years.
You had a falling out?
Over the scandal.
I worked 2 jobs to put him
through journalism school.
He was gonna be a reporter,
just like bogie in his final film,
the harder they fall.
You mentioned a scandal?
Oh, he plagiarized his honors thesis.
All my hard work, out the window.
He was thrown out.
- Hey, Mrs. Becker, um...
- You know, just disgraced.
I know, we really, really need
to get you in there. Come on.
Oh, yeah, sure.
Anything I can do to help.
Humphrey?
What's happened to you?
Ida?
You two must have
a lot of catching up to do.
Here, have a seat, Mrs. Becker.
Your hair!
What did you do to it?
You, you haven't changed a bit.
You should have seen him
when he was little.
Head full of curls.
Um, they're not interested
in my childhood.
Oh... but we are.
Nice play.
You mind giving us
a few minutes alone?
Sorry. Against my rules.
Humphrey, tell them where
you put the lady.
Um, stay out of this, Ida.
Why, when she's such
a big part of it?
Okay...
you want to know
where she is, Ida?
She's in a lonely place.
Ready for the big sleep.
Those are bogie films.
- You're a disgrace to his name.
- You like that?
You're gonna love this.
One of the aliases I used
was Eddie Willis.
Bogie's last role.
I knew you'd be pleased.
Why don't you tell your mother
what you've been up to lately?
Why don't you shut
your damn pie hole?
Language.
You know how I feel
about curse words.
Even when bogie played a bad guy,
he never worked blue.
Sorry, Ida.
Didn't mean to disappoint you...
- yet again.
- I should be used to it.
- I had such high hopes for him.
- Well, it was nice visiting.
You were supposed to grow up
to be somebody.
I'm sitting right here.
In a police station.
Do you have any idea how
embarrassing this is for me?
I did this for you, Ida.
I'm finally going to be famous,
just like you always wanted.
Happy now? / You were
never anything but trouble.
He was a difficult child?
You can't imagine.
- Shut up, Ida.
- I couldn't take him anywhere!
- Not even my movies.
- Shut up.
Soon as the lights went down,
he'd throw a tantrum!
- Stop it.
- He's afraid of the dark?
- He was a crybaby!
- Stop it!
He'd cry like a baby till
they'd ask us to leave.
Oh, you sure in hell figured
out a way to see them.
How did you manage that, Ida.
- Never mind!
- I'd like to know.
What else could I do?
I had to leave him at home.
Alone? / I made sure that he
couldn't get in trouble.
Shut up, Ida!
That's why you took the doors off.
She locked you in the closet.
Well, you know, he might have hurt
himself running around the house.
- That's enough!
- It was only for two hours.
But he'd get so worked up,
he'd soil himself.
Shut up! Please!
Shut up!
Don't you ever shut up?
Don't you ever shut up?
I'll kill you, you bitch!
You bitch!
You see how he treats his mother.
Claustrophobic.
Wait!
No, let me go.
Where are you taking me?
My game room!
No!
No! No!
Please! Don't!
You need another clue?
Wouldn't want to leave
you in the dark.
No, please! Please,
you can't do this!
Relax, Humphrey.
It's just a game!
No, let me out!
Tell us where Jeanette is!
Let me out, and I'll tell you!
You tell me, I'll let you out!
Thought you could use this.
Please, I can't breathe.
Where is she?
Where is she!
In a dump in Staten island.
In a refrigerator
with a chain around it.
Now please let me out!
Jeanette first!
I'll call ESU.
Open it!
She alive?
Barely breathing.
Needle's on the red.
She's almost out.
He found me.
I told you he'd find me.
You're safe now.
He'll get out.
I just know it.
He'll never stop till he gets me.
Believe me, he'll never get out,
never.