Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (1999–…): Season 8, Episode 20 - Annihilated - full transcript

The investigation of a bride-to-be's murder uncovers a man's double life; a turn in the case rattles Stabler, who turns to his wife and children for comfort.

(male announcer) 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.

Ay, Dios mío.

(O'Halloran) Victim's
Cynthia Yellin,
33, rape-homicide.

What's her pedigree?

Single, lives alone,
neighbors say she's quiet



and friendly, kind
of a homebody.

Works as a secretary in a
Midtown insurance company.

Any forensics?

Not anymore.

Housekeeper scoured the place
before she found the body.

We'll process the vacuum
cleaner for hairs and fibers,

but there's no way to
separate the old debris

from last night's evidence.

How 'bout you, you
got anything for us?

Her neck was snapped.

Classic subluxation technique.

Whoa.

That's pretty extreme.

You mind if I
demonstrate on you?



Saves me a trip to
the chiropractor.

You're not kidding.

You grab here and
come under the chin,

and you just snap in
opposite directions.

I learned it in
the military.

It's basically a silent
way to kill someone

in hand-to-hand combat.

If our perp was
in the service,

then his DNA's in the system.

Any fluids?

Found this condom
wrapper on the floor,

so I don't think
we'll get DNA.

Time of death?

Based on rigor and lividity,

sometime between 9:00
and midnight last night,

taking into account
the open window

which accelerated the
cooling of the body.

No forced entry
through the front door,

so probably our fire
escape's point of entry?

Already dusted it
for prints, nothing.

Perp wore gloves
or wiped it down.

Broken neck,
condom, no prints.

Guy's no amateur.

Elliot.

A wedding dress.

So where's the groom?

(Stabler) She
got pictures of her
friends, her family,

but no guy.

Well, if I was getting
married a week from Saturday,

I'd have a picture
of my fiancé.

Huh, quiet girl with
an ordinary job.

How'd you wind up the target
of a professional hit?

(Janet)
That's Cynthia's
engagement party.

She was so beautiful.

Everyone said they'd
never seen her happier.

She waited so long to
find the right man.

I thought she'd
never get married.

(Benson) Is
that her fiancé?

(Janet) No, that's
her cousin Bill.

Steven, her fiancé,
couldn't make it.

An emergency
came up at work.

That must've been
some emergency

for him to miss his
own engagement party.

(Bud) Steven
works for the
government.

And that's why my
daughter is dead.

What does he do?

He's a CIA agent.

In an antiterrorist unit.

He told you that.

He said he worked for the
Department of Agriculture.

Her mom got the truth
out of Cynthia.

She wasn't supposed to tell us.

But I knew
something was wrong

when I asked her
questions about Steven.

She was so secretive.

That's why there's no pictures
of him in her apartment.

He told us he
was camera shy.

But we knew it was
because of his job.

I snapped this
at Christmas.

When he wasn't looking.

(Benson) Cynthia
ever worry about
marrying a spy?

Sometimes.

But she loved him.

(Stabler) She ever
talk about calling
off the wedding?

We asked her to because
of the death threats.

From who?

Jemaah Islamiyah.

The Indonesian Islamist group.

They put a fatwa
on Steven.

Those terrorist sons of
bitches killed my daughter!

And where is Steven now?

In Jakarta on assignment.

He was supposed to
meet us in Hawaii.

Before the wedding.

And how can we reach him?

[crying]

All we have is his
cell phone number.

(man over speakerphone)
This is Steven Dashiell.

Leave a message.

I did, he hasn't
called back.

What about his
billing address?

Prepaid cell phone,
no way to trace it.

What about DMV or
credit bureaus?

The guy's a
spook, Olivia.

He needs a driver's license,

company prints one up.

Short on cash,
no problem.

There's a black ops slush
fund in a bank in Geneva.

So let's go pay
the CIA a visit.

They'll have a way
to reach Dashiell.

Yeah, ask them what
he's been doing

since he was reported missing
in action in Afghanistan.

Pentagon records
show Steven Dashiell

was a military advisor
who disappeared

when his Black Hawk crashed

outside of Kandahar in '03.

So why is he listed as
MIA if he's alive and well

in New York City?

'Cause the CIA
wants it that way.

(Chase) I can
neither confirm nor
deny the employment

of anyone working for
Central Intelligence.

We don't want
classified information,

we just wanna talk
to Steven Dashiell.

The whereabouts of field
agents are classified.

His fiancée was
raped and murdered.

I'm very sorry, but
that's a civilian matter

unrelated to the agency.

(Stabler) Her
parents said that

Jemaah Islamiyah had
made death threats.

I doubt that.

Why's that?

Foreign nationals sneaking
into this country

to assassinate an
agent's girlfriend

is rather far-fetched.

Steven Dashiell
didn't think so.

He said he was
under a fatwa

and he was worried about
her being targeted.

I suggest you discuss
those concerns

with Mr. Dashiell.

Great, why don't you tell
us where he is in Jakarta

and we'll do that.

I'm sorry, Detectives,
I wish I could.

Well, this is like
chasing shadows.

Our guy is a terrorist?

How are we gonna find him?

Have I mentioned my
buddy Mel Canner?

Recently assigned to the
Joint Terrorist Task Force.

(Canner) Jemaah
Islamiyah was founded
back in the '70s,

but kept a low
profile till the Bali

nightclub bombings in '02.

I remember that, a
couple hundred tourists

were killed.

Since then, they've
stayed busy.

Bombed a hotel in '03.

Also the Australian
Embassy in '04.

Plus a second wave of
attacks in Bali in 2005.

But no attacks
on U.S. soil.

So far, they haven't been
active outside southeast Asia.

They're mainly in
Jakarta and Bali

with a growing presence
in the Philippines.

Well, our victim's
parents seem certain

that Steven Dashiell
was targeted locally.

Any intel on a cell
here in the city?

I've never heard any
chatter about that.

And they're not a priority as
far as domestic targets go.

They're terrorists, but
they're not a priority?

We got our hands
full with Al-Qaeda

and other splinter groups
that are confirmed active

in the States.

You have any sources who
might know a little more?

Come on, Elliot.

I can't give you
my CIs.

You know you
still owe me.

McFadden's, the blonde?

There's a guy who owns

an Indonesian
restaurant in Queens.

If anyone knows what's
going on in the community,

Wahid does.

Do you know Indonesia's
the third-largest democracy

after India and the U.S.?

But a handful of
crazy fundamentalists

plant a few
bombs in Bali,

now we're public
enemy number three,

right after Osama
and Kim Jong Il.

Well, you know,
we've got our share

of homegrown crazies
right here too.

And I wouldn't want you
judging all Americans

by what the Unabomber did.

Apology accepted.

Now what can I do for you?

Could there be a
Jemaah Islamiyah

sleeper cell here?

That wouldn't make sense.

Why not?

Their mission is to create a
fundamentalist Islamic state

in my country.

Attacking America doesn't
further that goal.

What about a fatwa against
an intelligence officer?

Now I think someone's
lying to you, Detectives.

Fatwas have been issued
by Middle Eastern Imams.

But they're just not
used in southeast Asia.

(Benson) Captain,
there's no evidence
that Jemaah Islamiyah

is involved in Cynthia
Yellin's death.

But her murder has all
the earmarks of a hit.

We don't know where else
Steven Dashiell may have worked

or who else he may
have pissed off.

And how are we
gonna find out?

We can't release his
photo to the media.

If we do, we
blow his cover.

We go to jail.

(Munch) Hey, I got
something spooky
on your spook.

Steven Dashiell's
prepaid cell phone

is reloaded with
air time first thing

every Monday morning
from the same address

in Staten Island.

From fatwas and sleeper
cells to suburbia.

Spies gotta live somewhere.

Staten Island's boring.

Makes for good cover.

Modern technology.

Aren't we lucky that Big
Brother's watching us

from outer space?

There's no place to hide.

(Stabler) Nothing
more anonymous
than a mini-mart.

Spy school 101.

Hide in plain sight.

(man) Mr. Coffee
Light and Ledger.

That's what this
guy always gets.

He comes in every
morning with Muffin.

He brings you breakfast?

No, Muffin's his dog.

Big beautiful golden.

I'm not supposed to
let pets in here,

but she's so awesome--

Psst.

You know where
this guy lives?

No, mm-mm.

Brings his dog around, he's
gotta live nearby, huh?

Hey, wait, I know
where Muffin lives.

Does that help?

Yeah. Where does
Muffin live?

Hey, Muffin,
how you doing?

Come here, girl.

Yeah.

Huh.

[children yelling]

Help! Drew's chasing me!

I'm gonna get
you! Come here!

Mommy!

Come back inside!

Can I help you?

Yeah, we're, uh, looking
for Steven Dashiell.

I'm sorry, there's
nobody here by that name.

You sure?

Yeah, pretty sure,
we're the Royces.

Your husband home?

Uh, honey, can you
come here a minute?

Sure, sweetheart!

They're detectives.

Hi, I'm Malcolm Royce.

Really? Huh.

You're a dead ringer
for Steven Dashiell.

(Fin) Malcolm
Royce, 38,

works for Ciliento-Sherman
as a convention planner.

(Benson) Doesn't
sound like
an agency cover.

(Stabler) A wife
and three kids?

It's not exactly standard issue
for a spy's phony identity.

I don't think the
CIA could fake up

a background this good.

I got Royce's financials,
his credit history,

even his employee file.

Got a lot of travel here, but
nothing to southeast Asia.

The most exotic
place he's been

is...Decatur, Illinois?

Everything he said to
Cynthia Yellin was a lie.

Including his name.

What is this about?

Your alter ego.

Steven Dashiell.

Do you work for
the CIA full time,

or is it just
a weekend gig?

I can explain.

Look, you don't have to.

Claiming to be a secret
agent's a hell of a good way

to hide the fact
that you're married.

What do you tell Cynthia?

"Can't spend the night, honey,

gotta go make the world
safe for democracy?"

Well, except the wedding
was getting close.

So you had to
get rid of her.

What are you talking about?

Cynthia's dead, Malcolm.

Dead?

(Benson)
Mm.

Oh, God. No.

Mm-hmm.

How?

Where were you
Wednesday night?

Do you think I did it?

Where were you
Wednesday night?

Well, that's crazy!

I couldn't hurt
Cynthia, I loved her!

You got a strange
way of showing it.

Since you lied to her
about everything.

What you do,
your name.

Yes, but only so I
could be with her.

How 'bout your wife?

I love them both.

I couldn't give
either of them up.

Is that so hard
to believe?

A man loving two women?

I wouldn't call it love,
I'd call it betrayal.

You proposed to one woman while
you're married to another?

I know it was wrong.

Cynthia wanted a
wedding so badly.

[sighs]

I kept putting her off.

With phony stories
of fatwas.

She said she didn't care.

She was willing
to risk everything

to be with me.

Come on, Malcolm, what
were you gonna do?

Go through with
the sham ceremony,

become a bigamist?

If that's what it took
to make her happy.

Okay, Casanova,
again, last time.

Where were you
Wednesday night?

Hmm?

I was with my kids.

(Benson)
All night?

Yes.

That night is my
wife's book club.

I take the kids
to Pizza Please.

It's their favorite place.

Check with the restaurant.

They'll remember us.

You'll see I couldn't
have done this.

Yeah, I recognize him.

He's in here every
Wednesday with his kids.

We get a lot of them.

Them?

You know, dads bribing
their kids to love them

with all-you-can-eat
pizza and soda.

You know what time they
left here Wednesday night?

We close at 11:00, so
sometime before that.

Okay, well why don't
you rack your brain?

It could use the exercise.

Hey, man. This
place is a zoo.

Non-stop mayhem until we pry
their grubby little paws

off the soda
machines at closing.

So I got no idea what time
some schmuck paid his bill.

Did he use a credit card?

Probably.

No one pays cash anymore.

Good. Find the
receipt for us.

Malcolm Royce's
credit card receipt

from the pizza joint.

9:27 PM.

What's the drive time
from the restaurant

back to their house?

15, 20 minutes tops.

Okay, so he's
back by 10:00.

That leaves time
for him to sneak out

after the wife and
kids go to sleep,

head into Manhattan,
and kill Cynthia.

You ever try to put
three kids to bed

hopped up on
pizza and soda?

Well, maybe Malcolm's
got the magic touch.

Cannot be done.
Trust me.

All right, Superdad,
if Malcolm Royce

didn't kill Cynthia
Yellin, who did?

I don't know, but I do
think that we, uh, jumped

on this international
terrorism angle so fast,

we forgot about
any other suspects.

Don't waste your time.

You've got your
man right there.

EZ Pass records
show Royce's car

made a round trip
to Manhattan

late Wednesday night.

They remembered me,
right? At Pizza Please?

Uh, yeah, they sure did.

All right, so
I can go now?

No, you can't.
Sit down, please.

I don't understand.

Well, you went into
Manhattan Wednesday night.

No, I didn't.

I came home, I put
the kids to bed...

watched some TV and
then I went to sleep.

Well, the EZ Pass
records show your car

crossing the Verrazano
Bridge from Staten Island

into Brooklyn at 10:32.

The Brooklyn Battery
Tunnel into Manhattan

at 10:50.

And returning 90
minutes later.

I didn't leave the house.
Someone is framing me.

Indonesian terrorists?

I'm telling you,
it's not possible.

I didn't go into the city.

Read 'em and weep.

You've got
the wrong car.

That's not your Honda's
license plate number?

It is, but I
wasn't driving it.

I had the kids, so I
needed the minivan.

My wife had the Honda.

Doesn't make sense.

Lindsay's book club
meets in Staten Island

a couple miles
from our house.

Why would she
be in Manhattan?

So what time did your wife
come home Wednesday night?

I don't know.

Must have been late.

I went to bed at midnight,
she wasn't back yet.

She know about your affair?

No.

You're sure.

She's been so moody
these last couple weeks.

Oh, God.

Maybe she found out.

What do you say,
Captain, cut him loose?

Well, if you do,
he'll just go home

and confront his wife.

Well, we gotta
interview her first.

I'll keep Malcolm
on ice for an hour

then cut him loose so
he can't warn his wife

you're comin'.

Thanks for telling
me my husband's

an unfaithful bastard!

You mind explaining why
it's any of your business?

After you tell us where
you were Wednesday night.

Book club.

Yeah, now Malcolm says
that it meets nearby.

That's right.

Then why did you
go into the city

at 10:30 that night?

Is that a crime?

No, it's a question.
Answer it.

I have three kids...

a husband who's
never around,

and just one night a
week that's all my own.

Book club ended.

I wasn't ready
to come home

and do a week's
worth of laundry.

So I went out
for a drink.

I do that sometimes.

Alone?

None of the other girls
wanted to come along

this week.

So you drove 45 minutes
for a nightcap.

I'm sick of Staten Island!

I am sick of carpools
and juice boxes

and soccer games.

I wanted a little glamour.

I bet you're married.

Did it ever
cross your mind

that your wife might wanna
do a little bit more

than just make beds
and cook dinner?

[horn honking]

That's the school bus.
I need to get my kids.

I'll do it.
Let me.

(Stabler)
Hey.

Why are you here again?

I'm just visiting
with your mom.

She said you're
a policeman.

That's right.

You shoot bad guys.

Well, I also help people.

Are you gonna help my mom?

Why, does your mom
need any help?

She's really mad and sad.

Oh, do you know why?

'Cause my dad's sick.

What's wrong with him?

Mom says he got
a dirty whore.

Oh.

She tell you that?

I heard her say that
to Ms. Lefkowitz.

Who's Mrs. Lefkowitz?

She's her best friend.

Oh.

You know where she lives?

By my school, in the house
with all the gnomes.

(Lindsay) Tyler,
come inside
right now.

You're gonna
have to leave.

I'm not having this conversation
in front of my children.

That's fine, Mrs. Royce.

Thanks for your time.
We're all done here.

Still a lot of
questions to answer.

Yeah, but first
we're gonna pay

a little visit to
Mrs. Lefkowitz.

(Millie) Lindsay
was crushed when
she found out

Malcolm was cheating on her.

After all she's
been through.

What has she been through?

Three kids in
four years.

Then breast cancer.

She beat it, but she
went through hell

after the mastectomy.

She cracked up, spent
some time in a nuthouse.

And now her no-good
husband is cheating.

How long has she known?

Couple weeks.

And what tipped her off?

She found a hotel
confirmation.

Hawaii.

She called the
travel agent,

found out he booked
the honeymoon suite

under a phony name.

Steven Dashiell.

That's right.

Lindsay was a mess.

She didn't know what to do.

Did she confront Malcolm?

I told her
not to bother.

Just file for divorce.

Gave him the name of the
lawyer that did mine,

but she said it was
out of the question.

They're Catholic.

So what's she gonna do?

Lindsay said she'd
make him pay.

Ha.

House is dark.

Maybe they went out?

(Stabler) They
gotta be in.

Both cars are
in the driveway.

[dog barking]

Something's not right.

It's open.

Mrs. Royce?

Hello?

Mr. Royce?

You smell that?

Cordite.

Jennifer?

She's dead.

She killed them all.

Help me.

(Stabler) He's
still alive.
Call the bus.

Malcolm!

Malcolm, you gotta
hang in there.

Hang in there.

I'd say a straightforward
murder-suicide.

Looks like Lindsay shot
each child in the head

then killed herself.

I didn't see this coming.

Hospital called,

said Malcolm's coming
out of surgery.

It looks like he's
gonna make it.

His whole family's gone.

He may be wishing
he hadn't.

(Dr. Parnell) Mr.
Royce was very lucky.

There was no brain damage.

Is he conscious?

Yes, but I don't
want to overtire him.

You can talk to him
for a few minutes.

Does he know about
his children?

I thought that news
would be better

coming from you.

I woke up.

Lindsay was...
standing over me.

She had a gun.

She put it... she put
it to my forehead.

And I grabbed
it, but she...

she pulled the trigger and...

I... I thought
I was dying.

I heard more shots, but...

I couldn't--I couldn't move.

My kids?

They're gone.

I'm sorry, Malcolm.

No, please. No.

[Malcolm crying]

My--

And Lindsay?

She took her own life.

(Malcolm)
No.

That's enough for now.

No.

I gotta get out of here.

Yeah, probably get
back and brief Cragen?

Can you handle
it? Sure.

Thanks for letting
me come by.

Did it help?

Yeah.

Stay.

(Kathleen)
Dad, what are
you doing here?

I came by to
see you guys.

At 2:00 in the morning?

I had a long day.

It isn't fair to Mom.

Look, I called. She
said it was okay.

That's not what I mean.

We're your family,
not some booty call.

Come home or don't.

But there's nothing
in between.

[phone ringing]

Bye, Dad.

Yeah.

Where are you?

Okay, I'll be right there.

(O'Halloran)
Something's not right.

According to
Malcolm's statement,

Lindsay Royce walked up
to her sleeping husband,

put the gun to his forehead,
and pulled the trigger.

Basically, yeah.

The slug from that shot
entered the wall here.

But check out
the trajectory.

Laser gun.

Now, say Lindsay Royce
was standing here.

She points the gun at
Malcolm's head like that.

Okay--

The angle of the
gun doesn't match

the bullet's trajectory.

Right.

But Malcolm said that he
struggled for the gun.

Doesn't matter, it's
all about angles.

Lie down.

Try it 100 ways,

but you're gonna have
to break my wrist

to make the
trajectory line up.

Try to shoot yourself
in the head.

Just enough to
graze the scalp.

(O'Halloran)
Perfect match.

He killed them all.

Where's Malcolm Royce?

He went for a smoke.

A smoke where?

I told him the staff
go up to the roof.

Malcolm.

Leave me alone,
Detective.

I should have died tonight.

But you didn't.

You're alive
for a reason.

I don't care.

I don't want to live
without my family.

I can't let you do this.

Why do you care?!

Because you're a
good man, Malcolm...

who's been through an
unimaginable ordeal.

I've lost everyone I love.

Look, you dying is not
gonna bring 'em back.

But it'll stop the pain.

God, it hurts.

My kids.

[sobbing]
My kids!

Malcolm, they
wouldn't want this.

They'd want
you to go on.

Think of them.

Drew, Tyler, Jennifer--
they love you.

(Stabler)
They'd want you
to be happy.

What--what are you doing?

I'm not sure.

I should have thrown
you off the roof.

Malcolm Royce,

you're under
arrest for murder.

Look at him.

Bastard kills his family,
and then cries for his loss.

How sick can you get?

Family annihilators are
the ultimate narcissists.

They're usually men who
lead average lives, who lie

to make themselves
sound more important.

(Cragen)
CIA operative
fits the bill.

Steven Dashiell is everything
that Malcolm Royce is not.

Exactly.

And once they're
threatened with exposure,

they cannot bear the shame.

How do you live with
a woman and three kids

for all those years--

take care of them,
protect them,

and then one night
blow their brains out?

The narcissist believes he's
the only one that counts.

"Nobody matters
but me."

Take him to trial.

Make him see what matters--
those three little kids.

(Cragen)
You good to go?

Oh, yeah.

How could you think
I killed them--

my own children?

I don't think,
Malcolm, I know.

But I couldn't.

Look at this!

I've done more damage
to myself shaving.

I am going to admit that
you had me fooled at first.

But, uh, forensics proves
that wound of yours

is self-inflicted.

I wanted to die...

after what Lindsay
did to my kids.

Okay, now I need
you to tell me

everything that happened.

It's so hard to
talk about this.

I understand. Try.

I was asleep.

Gunshots woke me up.

I ran to check
on my children

and I saw what--

what she had
done to them.

God, it was horrible.

I was, uh...

I was in shock.

Then I heard another shot.

I came into our bedroom,

and Lindsay was
on the floor.

Why didn't you call 911?

They were all dead.

I couldn't go on
without them,

so I laid back down,

and I put the
gun to my head,

and I pulled the trigger.

Then what?
Nothing.

I must've blacked out.

Next thing I knew
you were there.

Well, it all makes sense,
except for one thing.

The gun wasn't
in your hand.

It was on the floor
by your wife.

I'm Catholic.

Suicide's a sin.

I wanted to be buried
with my children,

so I threw the gun
over by Lindsay.

This guy's got an
answer for everything.

All we have on Malcolm is
a failed suicide attempt.

The minute he wises up
and asks for a lawyer,

we're gonna have
to let him walk.

He's not gonna
want an attorney.

He needs to be
in control.

This is just
a game to him.

Well, so far
he's winning.

Trust me, he'll talk.

We need to
hedge our bets.

I'll light a fire
under O'Halloran,

see if he can get
us more forensics.

Well, look, science is
not gonna break this guy.

It's gonna
happen in there.

(Stabler) Tell
me about the
gun, Malcolm.

It's mine.

I bought it a
couple years ago,

after there'd been
a bunch of break-ins

in our neighborhood.

Where do you keep it?

In my study
in a lock box.

I didn't want the
kids to find it.

You ever fire it?

I took lessons
at the gun club.

So you know
what it sounds
like. Yeah.

So after the first shot, you
knew exactly what it was.

I was asleep.

I wasn't sure
what woke me.

A .44-caliber handgun,
when it's fired indoors,

it makes a hell of a noise.

You were awake after
that first shot?

I guess so.

Uh-huh, so--

All right, so
what did you do

after the second shot?

I got up.
Where'd you go?

Into the boys' room.

I saw them--

Was Lindsay there?

I don't know.

Uh, she must have been
in Jennifer's room.

Third shot,
where were you?

Third shot, where
were you, Malcolm?

I was still with the boys.

You didn't move--you didn't try
and save your daughter's life?

It was too late.

I went out in the hallway,

and Lindsay was there
with the gun in her hand.

You saw her--
what did you do?

I don't remember.

Your children are dead.

You're standing there
watching your wife

holding a gun!

You had to do something--
what did you do?!

I yelled at her.

She went back into our
bedroom, and I followed her.

You didn't just stand there
and watch her kill herself.

I tried to get the gun.

You acted, you
grabbed the gun.

You wrestled it
away-- you shot her.

And you shot her.

Malcolm, I know.

Jennifer dead, Tyler
dead, Drew dead.

That bitch took
everything from you!

You had every right
to shoot her.

Yes--yes, I killed her.

[whispering] I'd have
done the same thing.

[sighs]

Feels good to tell
the truth, huh?

Yeah.

Can I get a
glass of water?

Yeah, of course.

He's good.

At least Royce isn't
going home tonight.

Well done.

It's not enough, is it?

It's a crapshoot at trial.

Malcolm can say
he killed Lindsay

in a fit of rage

after she killed the kids.

Why don't you
take a breather?

See if we get
the forensics.

No, I want to
hear it from him.

Why'd your wife
kill your children?

To punish me.

For what?

Cheating on her.

But you said Lindsay didn't
know about you and Cynthia.

But she did.
About the affair?

The trip to Hawaii?

She must've been
pretty pissed off

about that honeymoon suite.

I never wanted
to hurt her.

I know.

Look, I've been
married over 20 years.

I know how good it
was in the beginning.

And then the kids came...

and the sex dried up.

And you wind up
talking about...

[sighs]

bills and braces
and college tuition.

And all you want is
the damn romance back.

And then you meet
another woman

who makes you
feel so alive.

She doesn't nag you,
it's just easy.

Cynthia was that way, huh?

Being with her
made me feel young.

Like anything was possible.

I got caught up
in the adventure.

And then she changed.

She started making
demands, right?

She wanted to get married.

She wants a big
wedding on the beach

with the white dress.

I mean, man, you
must've felt trapped.

I didn't know
what to do.

I knew I should end it.

I didn't want to hurt her.

You didn't.

I mean, the last time
you went over there,

you made love, you
held her close.

You put her to sleep.

Malcolm, you're so close.

Tell me the truth--
you can tell me.

No, I didn't kill her!

Malcolm.

Cynthia loved me so much.

And I loved her.

But Lindsay wanted
to break us up.

She couldn't accept
that I had enough love

for both of them.

If Lindsay hadn't
been jealous,

none of this
would've happened!

Nothing like
blaming the victim.

[door opens]

I got something.

Tom Clancy,
Robert Ludlum.

Looks like every spy
novel ever written.

Required reading
for Malcolm's

secret agent act.

But some of these don't
come from Barnes & Noble.

The Assassin's Manual.

Chock full of
untraceable poisons,

sniper rifles,

and a chapter with very
detailed instructions

on how to break
a person's neck.

Malcolm Royce's prints
were all over that part.

Well, we got him for
his girlfriend's murder.

What about the
EZ Pass records?

Now, there's nothing that shows
that Malcolm drove the minivan

into the city that night.

He must've paid cash--
no records that way.

Circumstantial, but
I can make it work.

Juries love this stuff.

Well, you're
gonna love this.

Guess where else I
found Malcolm's prints.

On the key to the lock
box the gun was kept in.

That's no
surprise, it's
his gun. Right.

But his wife's prints
weren't on the key,

or the lock box.

If Lindsay didn't
open the gun safe,

she didn't kill the kids.

That's enough to charge
Malcolm with the murders

of Cynthia Yellin and
the three children.

We got him.

I'll pull Elliot out.

[knock on door]

Elliot.

Can you give me
a minute?

Coming.

[door shuts]

Shouldn't you go
see what he wants?

I know what he wants.

What are you doing?

You see, the only reason
my boss would come in here

is to shut me down.

But you and me,
we're not done yet.

I've told you everything.

But you will, or I'm gonna
beat the balls off you.

Malcolm, you're
a coward.

You pretend to be a spy.

You're a spy?

You take down terrorists?

But what you really do is just
go after women and children.

What'd your children
ever do to you?

Come on, killer, huh--
are you a killer?

What'd your
children do to you?

Just tell me that.

You wanna kill
someone, kill me.

Kill me.

Come on, kill me.

Kill me, huh?

Come on, kill
me... kill me.

[banging on door]

(Cragen) Open
this damn door!

That's a direct order.

Do you know how easy it
would be to mess this up

and leave you paralyzed,

sitting in your
own piss and crap

for the rest of your life?

Oh, please, my neck!

[yelling] He's
trying to kill me!

I want you to suffer the
way your children suffered.

They didn't.

They didn't.

I put sleeping pills
in their juice.

What about Cynthia?

Yes.
What?!

Yes.

I didn't want
them to wake up.

Maybe because you couldn't
look in their eyes

while you killed them.

I had to do it.

It was all
falling apart.

If I went to jail, who would
take care of my family?

[Malcolm panting]

I had to do it.

You have to understand,
I had no choice.

(Malcolm) I
had to do it.

I had to save them.

I had no choice.

I had to do it.
I had to do it!

Morning, Elliot.

You look like hell--
you stay here all night?

Hey, El.

You okay?

Surf the internet with browser of future
osdb.link/brave