Lincoln Rhyme: Hunt for the Bone Collector (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - Game On - full transcript

Previously on "Lincoln Rhyme"...

Maybe people should just do their jobs.

Maybe they'd do them better

if their work environment
was a little more harmonious.

Lincoln, wait for backup.

He's always been Lincoln-y,

even before he was in that chair.

His problem is that he lost
to the Bone Collector,

and he cannot accept that.

- Dad?
- If I go after him again...

We're thousands of miles away, Lincoln.



Rachel's gonna find out.

Make sure she hears it from you first.

I looked into the phone
the Bone Collector used

in the surveillance footage.

I think we can safely extrapolate
where this path is heading.

To the greatest city in the world.

It's good to be home.

Profile by Laura S. Cutter, FBI.

Our suspect is likely a white male.

30s to early 50s.

A uniquely organized killer.

He's killed 15 victims,

both male and female,

across racial and socioeconomic lines.



He sees victims as unworthy objects.

Even his name, the Bone Collector,

is coined from his own
disrespect of humanity.

Unlike Bundy, Dahmer, or Gacy,

he doesn't seem to derive
any sexual pleasure

or physical thrill
from the violence itself.

It's about the control.

He doesn't hide his crimes.

He displays them with great effort

to engage the police in the process...

the game, whereby he will show
he is better than us,

that he wins...

that he's the best.

This... is about ego.

What's about ego?

What are you doing up?
It's, like, 5:00 a.m.

What? You can't tell me?

Nothing.

You know, it's...

just another one of Lincoln's old cases.

Okay.

Well, then tell him it can wait.

I'll try that.

If there's anything Lincoln loves,

it's waiting.

Kay.

Hey. Everything okay?

It's time.

He's back.

Really?

I mean,

it's him for sure?

A murder was reported an hour ago

at a library across town.

Evidence displayed deliberately.

Victim left in an apparatus
which led to his demise...

Holding a copy of my book.

Sellitto and Eric are already there.

I see.

The first of three victims.

Which means if we don't move fast,

two more innocent people die today

and he disappears again.

Right. Kill and retreat.

He's in New York for one reason:

to play his game with me.

You're my eyes and ears, Amelia.

I need you out there right now.

Lincoln...

if he's back and he knows where we are...

I need your head in the game right now.

Your full mind.

So a personal security guard
is already on his way

to your place.

He's Special Forces.

He's good.

And believe me,

no one is getting near your sister today.

Thank you, Lincoln.

No. You can thank me by
getting to that crime scene.

Yeah. On my way.

The game's already begun.

There's no ID.

We need to figure out who this victim is.

I know who he is.

Wait. What?

Dr. Robert Banks.

Professor of U.S. history at CUNY.

My alma mater.

Only person ever to flunk me in a class.

History, of all things.

Made me study out of spite.

Became my mentor.

Put me on a path to all this.

I'm so sorry, Lincoln.

Me too.

Make sure I speak to
his family when this is over.

Right now, there are three
clues left here for us.

We need them to save the next victim.

I see a few of them.

The victim regurgitated
something on himself.

Maybe that's our third.

I'm gonna talk to the building manager,

figure out how on Earth someone managed

to get this body down here
to play mad scientist.

And nobody saw nothing?

- He reeks.
- Vomit tends to.

Of alcohol.

Did your professor drink?

Not like this.

He always liked
perfect control of his mind.

I see why you two got along.

What's in the IV?

Well, it's not your
typical saline solution.

It's something called tetrodotoxin.

It's a neurotoxin found in pufferfish.

Intravenous injection
would have paralyzed him.

If liquor were poured down
his throat, he couldn't move.

And without a gag reflex

or the ability to cough up the alcohol,

he would gradually drown.

- He was paralyzed.
- We've established that.

No. I mean this entire scene
is aimed at you, Lincoln.

Your professor.

Your book.

Paralysis.

Like I said, this gets personal.

Little early for video games.

Naia, I have to ask you.

Where's Camden?

At basketball camp.

Since when is he playing basketball?

Since a few months ago
when he made the AAU team.

Competitive basketball, and
no one thought to mention this?

Maybe he was...

protecting your feelings?

Knowing he can't
shoot hoops with his dad.

Naia, please listen carefully.

I need you to pick him up.

I'm sending someone to watch your place.

So he's back.

He's in New York.

He won't be anywhere near you,
at least not today,

but I'm not taking any chances.

Please get Camden?

I will.

Be careful, Lincoln.

I will.

Synced & corrected

The library.

Surveillance?

Witnesses?

I can't imagine he just
walked in the front door.

Side door.

And there was a power surge
just before closing time.

All systems, including
the limited security footage,

went dark for ten minutes.

And no witnesses, per usual.

Your professor was alone, apparently.

Staying late grading papers.

"There's always work to
be done," he used to say.

I'll get the unis to circle back

with the properties on that block,

see if anyone or their security cam

saw anything before the blackout.

I'll check with the university,

get the professor's
schedule from yesterday.

While you're at it, run
anyone I mentioned by name

in my book.

If they're in the city,
send a uni as a precaution.

Let's go.

Why do you think he
left a copy of your book?

You said it. This is about me.

This time is different.

Is it?

He's been playing this game with me

since I figured out
his three-clue pattern

the night of the very first murders.

Maybe he's been playing
with you, but up until today,

the victims weren't about you,
the clues weren't about you.

- What are you saying?
- I am saying he's changing the rules.

Well, he doesn't change the rules.

Then why the book?

I don't know.

What I do know is there are
two victims we can find

by triangulating the clues.

The dollar bill, the stomach contents,

and whatever that white fragment is.

Those are his rules.
That's what we focus on.

Amelia, you've got a terrible poker face.

Just say what's on your mind.

Okay.

Maybe the game itself is the problem.

Hmm? It's always the same.

He throws. You swing.

If we don't play the game, people die.

15. I know. 16, if we...

I'm aware of the score.

Look, I am sorry.

I'm just saying,
you are always on defense.

Have you ever thought
about going on offense?

I've been thinking about
this for eight years,

three of them stuck in this chair.

We've tried every way.

Playing his game is the only way

we've ever gotten close to him.

We just have to win.

Okay.

I'm sure you're right.

Agent Cutter?

Officer Lincoln Rhyme.
You asked to see me.

So you're the dog with the bone,

flooding my inbox every day

with your thoughts

on the FBI's approach
to the Tourist Killer.

Not trying to step on toes.

I've just been following the case.

Want to help.

Well,

your instincts were correct.

The last victim had salt water
on the clothes and her luggage,

and so did this one.

How did you know?

If they took the ferry on the Hudson,

like I suspect,

the spray from the river would
track on their clothes.

All right then.

Can you explain these fragments

found on the victim's hair and feet?

The killer's hunting ground could be

any one of a half dozen tourist areas

by the Hudson.

Only one would explain
the Torrey's rush flower;

a leaf from New Jersey's
state tree, the red oak;

and what I'm guessing is a feather

from the endangered northern harrier.

Liberty State Park in New Jersey.

Your killer could be a visitor,

even pose as a tourist himself.

You think he selects his targets there?

Someone innocuous

who crosses paths with
hundreds of tourists a day,

willing to divulge their vacation plans

to a complete but totally
harmless stranger,

then tracks them to their hotel rooms,

where they're taken from.

But... that would be speculating.

All the evidence says for sure is...

this is where you'll find them.

It's quite the theory, Officer Rhyme.

But none of that fits our profile.

- Got it.
- Music to my ears.

Victim's vomit is mostly whiskey...

a New York rye...

except for a few undigested particles

of turtle meat.

- Turtle meat?
- How aristocratic.

And inhumane.

Green sea turtles are endangered.

It is illegal to eat one
in the United States.

We'll be sure to add that at
the Bone Collector's sentencing.

In the meantime,

I doubt Professor Banks was
dining on exotic reptile meat

while grading papers.

It's a clue.

What about that white tile?

Not a tile.

It's ivory.

From a hippopotamus tusk.

Hippos have tusks?

And the dollar?

It's just that. One dollar.

Nothing telling from the serial number.

Professor's prints are on it.
Probably came from his wallet.

What about my book?

It came from right
off that library shelf.

Wiped of all prints, of course.

Let's take these clues at face value.

One dollar bill,

turtle meat,

and ivory.

It's a common misconception

that Washington had wooden teeth.

In fact,

his dentures were made from hippo ivory.

In 1783, Washington hosted
a farewell turtle feast

for the officers of the Continental Army,

removing his hippo dentures

so he could enjoy a decadent meal

at what is now the oldest operating bar

in New York City.

The next victim is at Fraunces Tavern.

All available units to Fraunces Tavern.

Hey. How was the seminar?

I did my four words routine...

you know, organize,
plan, commit, succeed...

and I got a standing ovation at the end.

Because you organized
and planned it so well?

Cute.

But really, it was invigorating.

How's your work coming?

Oh, you know,

somewhere between committed
and succeeding.

Hey, I'm proud of you.

Why don't we do lunch at the Weybridge?

Celebrate the life coach
who changed my life.

I love it.

And just so you hear me
say it, you were right.

Coming back to New York was a great idea.

I think so too.

Love you.

Love you, too, honey.

It was horrible.

His face was just... oh, my God!

Looks like we're too late.

I can talk to her.

You're needed inside.

Nobody's allowed in
without proper equipment.

It's not safe.

What are you talking about?

The kitchen's a gas chamber.

Someone unscrewed all the carbon
dioxide tanks from the taps.

Let me guess.

You want me to go in anyway.

You set the bar high

by standing in front
of a moving subway train.

Let's get you suited up.

Listen, if you feel a headache
or dizzy or confused...

anything... you get the hell out.

I work with Lincoln Rhyme.

When am I not confused with a headache?

Good luck.

Amelia, relax.

Forget about the stakes for a second.

Only think about what's
right in front of you.

Are you seeing what's
right in front of me?

You can do this.

Now, I need you to turn around

and tell me what's in the victim's hand.

Uh...

it's your book... again.

Did you know this victim too?

I don't, but just in case, check his ID.

Hey.

He's not in your book.

Collateral damage, I'm
afraid, just like the rest.

Oh!

I found one of the clues!

There should be two more.

Where are they?

Oh, wait a minute.

Look at his mouth.

What do you want me to do?

Very gently hold onto it

while you open his jaw.

Okay.

Okay.

Are you seeing this?

It looks like it goes down his throat.

Yes. There should be two more clues

at the other end of that string.

Okay, so this'll be a forensics thing,

to get it out?

Yeah. Pull.

Lincoln,

this is totally against protocol.

A medical examiner should be doing this.

I agree with her wholeheartedly.

We can't wait on the M.E.

The gastric acid is eating
away at the clues.

If we lose those clues,
a third victim dies.

So much for "relax and
forget about the stakes."

Hurry. But do it carefully.

You can't tell me to hurry

and do it carefully
at the same time, Lincoln.

Good. Nice and easy.

Ugh.

I see something.

Ugh. It's stuck.

- What do you mean?
- It's jammed.

Wedged. Not moving.

Cut it.

- What? The string?
- His throat.

Are you insane?

A tracheotomy on a dead body

is a hell of a lot better than
letting the next victim die.

Lincoln, this is borderline il...

We don't have a choice!

Amelia, your job is to do what
I would do if I were there,

and if I were there, I would
have been holding those clues

five minutes ago.

Now, take the knife and...

Atta girl.

We have the clues.

That's all that matters.

Easy.

What'd you say about feeling dizzy?

Nice work.

Yeah. Take a minute.

Eric's still talking
to the surrounding businesses.

Any witnesses?

Like a ghost, as usual.

All right. I'll go get you some
water, and we'll take off.

This morning, there was
a carbon dioxide leak

in this establishment's kitchen,

causing one fatality.

The police were called to the
corner of...

So we're lying to the public now?

- After an employee...
- Omitting details.

The mayor wants a lid on
anything Bone Collector.

And you guys don't think
that might set him off?

Identified as 25-year-old...

We're depriving him of credit.

Right.

Wouldn't want him to do
anything crazy, would we?

I can always tell when
you're lying, you know.

You're upset about something.

Honey?

Sorry.

I was... distracted by the news.

- Horrible accident.
- No. That's not it.

You're carrying so much tension.

You're not yourself.

Work is not going as I hoped.

There. See?

Now, was that so hard?

- It's just...
- You're a perfectionist.

You worry about what other
people think about your work,

but the truth is,
recognition comes in time.

If you value what you do,

that's all the validation you need.

You're a gift, Danielle.

What have I done to deserve you?

Aww.

Lincoln, you mention
the tavern in your book.

I know. I wrote it.

Here: "I had once chased
a perp through a restaurant

"and lost him, only to
realize I'd failed to check

"the ladies' room he was hiding in.

"This time, in Fraunces Tavern,

I didn't make the same mistake."

"I knocked first politely."

"Then made my arrest."

Much as I love a recitation of my words,

I gather you're working a theory.

I have been researching

the previous crime scenes to this case,

and I read FBI agent Cutter's
profile on the Bone Collector...

I value your ambitions as a profiler.

I do.

But Agent Cutter was never in the
same room as the Bone Collector.

She speculates based
on statistics, and...

Let her finish, Lincoln.

As Agent Cutter says,

"View each crime scene
as a conversation."

So what is the Bone Collector
trying to tell us

about each new murder?

He's telling us he's superior to me.

I've been in his crosshairs

ever since I found
his first hidden puzzle.

A worthy adversary he feels
compelled to prove unworthy.

He's read my book and wants to tarnish

my greatest achievements

by dropping innocent bodies on them.

People I can't save.

People I knew.

Or do you see it differently?

I do.

I... I mean, just look at the tavern.

You didn't really know that person,

and was it really one
of your greatest achievements?

Everyone's a critic.

That's not what I meant.

It's just, it's a random case

in a book full of huge,
incredible anecdotes.

Why that one?
I mean, you said it yourself.

Everything means something
to the Bone Collector.

Lincoln, I agree,

he is targeting your career triumphs.

But just like Agent Cutter said,

this is about ego.

I've read every word Agent Cutter wrote

about the Bone Collector.

I didn't hire you to
regurgitate research.

I hired you to be my eyes and ears.

My brain works just fine.

Yeah, well, so does mine.

I know.

So use it to come up
with something actionable

to help us catch
the Bone Collector today!

Or else we're just wasting time.

And every minute we lose today is...

Is...

Lincoln?

- Claire!
- Hey, hey.

Claire? Cl... Claire!

We need you in here!

He was talking one minute.
All of a sudden, he...

Give him some space, please.

What's happening?

Call 911 now.

God, your heartbeat is out of control.

Stay with me, Lincoln.

Stay with me, Lincoln.

Stay with me, Lincoln.

Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me.

Of all days.

I know. I feel terrible.

I mean, we were arguing,
and then the next minute...

It's not your fault.

Just sometimes, when he gets upset...

it's autonomic dysreflexia.

It's when a paralyzed person's
brain receives alerts

from the body that something is wrong,

but there's no way to pinpoint
the source of the problem.

Everything goes haywire.

To a quadriplegic, an ingrown toenail

has the same urgency as a heart attack.

This has happened before?

Sadly, yes.

Look, they'll find the source,
and he'll be fine.

It's just a little mystery.

High stakes.
Only a few clues to work with.

You have enough of that today
without worrying about this.

That's the thing.

There's still a third victim out there,

and I don't know how to find
them without Lincoln.

- Five minutes to air.
- Mr. Deerfield?

- Give me a minute, Leah.
- Hunter?

What?

You really need to look at this.

Guess we'll be changing our lead story.

I said I'm fine.

It's over.

I'm just doing my job, Lincoln.

Hey.

Where are we on victim number three?

Uh, Lincoln...

I'm fine. Truly.

I I appreciate your concern.

Now, can we try and save someone?

Claire said you could have died.

I... I mean the rest of us can...

I get it.

Yes, I could have died.

That's what this man did to me.

He made it so that a damn
bugbite can take my life,

can prevent me from saving
someone else's life.

Let me do everything I can to stop him.

Can we get back to work?

Okay.

Kate should be here any minute, and...

Glad to see you're up,

but you're not gonna like this.

Breaking right now: the Bone Collector.

The serial killer who plagued New York

for half a decade is back.

NYPD will not comment, but we can confirm

that two victims have
been found dead today

here in New York City.

And if history is any predictor,

that means there's one more to come.

- Someone leaked this.
- Worse.

The Bone Collector sent him Polaroids

of the first two victims.
Labs ran the envelope.

- They got nothing.
- He's taunting us.

He's gonna panic the city.

I heard.

I want to check
those envelopes myself, though.

In the meantime,

the colorful powder from
the second victim's stomach

is patina, or corroded copper

that's been exposed
to sulfur and oxide compounds.

Also known as verdigris.

Formed when bronze, brass,
or copper is weathered

or exposed to seawater over time.

- What else?
- Item two is a plant stem.

Quercus rubra.

Commonly known as northern red oak.

Where from, exactly?

Hacked every field study,
environmental blog,

and your own notes from General 14C;

cross-referenced it with
the Bone Collector sample.

Shows hints of Hudson grime.

Somewhere on the river.

What about the knife?

It's an oyster-shucking knife,

which is relatively rare,

but can be purchased at any store

that sells kitchenware.

Wiped of all prints. No barcode.

Copper patina, oak leaf,
and an oyster knife.

And this is gonna be
specific to you and your book.

Felix, bring up a map
of New York and the Hudson.

Early 1800s.

Zoom in on Communipaw.

It's the Lenape name
for "other side of the river,"

or, as we know it, New Jersey.

The land that borders the Hudson

was flush with oyster beds until 1839,

when the central railroad
of New Jersey was built

and destroyed them.

Across the river, 60 years later,

Ellis Island processed immigrants

greeted by Lady Liberty herself,

dazzled in patina copper.

Nearly 2/3 of them passed through

to the New Jersey railroad terminal

now known as Liberty State Park,

which hosts more than 750
trees, red oak among them,

as a living memorial for the residents

of New Jersey who died
in the attacks on 9/11.

And you want the book to mean something?

Stop! NYPD!

Stop moving.

Hands behind your back.

Like I said, follow the evidence.

Liberty State Park is the location

that launched my career,

where I told your idol Agent Cutter how

to catch the Tourist Killer.

Okay. Liberty State Park. Let's move.

Wait.

We don't have time to wait.

The clues are there. It's in the book.

I know that Liberty State
Park made you famous,

and I know the ending to your book,

but it feels predictable.

Like, it just...

Lincoln, it feels too easy.

- You think this was easy?
- Look, I don't know.

It just feels wrong.

I don't think he'd choose it.

So based on your read of his personality,

where should we go, Amelia,
before someone else dies?

- I don't know.
- So we follow the evidence,

because here's what I do know.

Evidence informs the profile,
not the other way around.

- Can we have a minute?
- We don't have a minute.

That's what you said
to me three years ago.

Ten minutes before
you entered that warehouse,

you and I had this very exchange.

- No.
- We did.

I said, "Don't rush in there."

I was right. The victim was there.

I was right!

I said he was setting us up.

I said we need to think
before we walk into a trap.

You think I should have
let that victim die!

I'm saying I had a feeling
something was wrong,

but you knew you were right!

And here we are.

So if Amelia's gut is saying
something's wrong...

let's take a minute, okay?

Let's take a minute. Get it right.

- What?
- Um...

Okay. The three clues.

We know they lead to Liberty State Park.

Could they mean anything else?

Copper patina.

Oak leaf.

Oyster knife.

And the book.

The roof over Grand Central Terminal.

Recently restored,

because the copper patina
was causing leaks.

Under that roof, the oldest
oyster bar in the city.

The entire terminal accented
with oak leaf carvings.

A symbol of the Vanderbilt family

who financed the construction in 1871.

Lincoln, you tracked Hans Baker there.

The murderer you arrested
on the platform.

The same three clues lead
to two different places.

Which one is it?

Uh... I... I don't know.

I... I mean, not for sure.

Go to Grand Central.

You and Eric go to Liberty State Park.

- You won't have eyes.
- Talk me through it.

Go.

Thank you.

Talk to me.

No chaos. No one seems to be...

Dead?

Good. We're in time.

All right.

Let's get all the tourists out
of the way.

Let's not cause a panic.

We'll corral them by the ferry,
and don't let 'em leave.

All right. Let's divide and conquer.

I'm gonna check the north side

like when he first
saw the Tourist Killer.

All right. Good.
I'll head into the terminal

where he caught him.

Amelia, you there?

Please evacuate the terminal.

I'm here.

Please walk carefully to the ledges.

Follow the directions
of law enforcement officers.

No, I see nothing,
except a commuter's nightmare.

- Where do I go?
- Go straight.

Head for the platform.
That's where I got Hans Baker.

Please evacuate the terminal.

Sellitto, what are we looking at?

Nothing yet.

It's just deserted.

It's not here.

The clues lead here. Keep looking.

There should be a passageway.
South side of the terminal.

That's the only place
you haven't checked.

I got it.

Amelia, that's where I got him.

I know. I don't see anything.

Sellitto, what do you see?

It's your book.

I knew it.

No. I mean it's your book,
but there's no body.

It's got to be a misdirect.

It's got to be Grand Central.

Amelia, it's got to be here.

But it isn't.

Unless the Bone Collector's
about to arrive on a train.

Keep looking.

I've been too late, but
I've never failed at this.

We can't be wrong.

Lincoln, it's the wrong platform.

No. This is where I caught him.

Yes, but it's not the only time

you mentioned Grand Central in your book.

The suicide?

The guy who jumped in front of the train.

Do you remember what else
you wrote about it?

What I failed to notice
was the guy on the edge.

Too close to the edge,

and as the train came in, he...

jumped.

But that wasn't a case.
That was a story about...

Where you failed. Your words.

You failed.

This was never about him
tarnishing your success.

He's reminding you of your failures.

Professor Banks.

He failed me in his history class.

Before you made the arrest
at Fraunces Tavern,

you failed to check the ladies' room.

And then the suicide.
I failed to save him.

Amelia, it's Track 19.

Go. Now.

I'm here. It looks abandoned.

Very end of the platform.
That's where he jumped.

Damn. We're too late.

Sorry, Lincoln.

We tried everything.

She's alive!

Amelia, no!

- It's okay.
- It could be a trap.

- I don't see anything.
- She's still alive.

That means he could be here watching.

You'd do it.

Lincoln, you would do it
if you were here.

I know, and look at where it got me.

Screw it.

I got you, okay?

I got you. Okay.

I'm gonna push you back, okay?

I got you. I got you. Shh.

Okay.

Okay. Okay.

Breathe. Breathe.

Okay. It's okay.

It's okay. I know. I know.

You did it, Amelia.

You saved her.

We did it.

The paramedics are on their way.

All of us.

I've examined every
microscopic *** on the photos

***

How about the woman?

Anaña Ceru she is going to make it,
but she can barely talk,

she doesn't remember anything,

she got off the train***

- ***
- And as far as we can tell

no one saw him.

No one saw anything.

The track was closed for repair.

Security cameras went dark.

But it was a win, Lincoln.

I mean, for the first time,
we saved someone.

It's not a win.
Two more people died today.

We're not closer to finding
him, and he played me again.

I was wrong,

and if you hadn't seen through it...

But I did.

And then Sellitto convinced
you to listen,

and then you figured it out.

And now, he's gonna be shaken up

because his game didn't work.

- We beat him.
- That's what worries me.

When he wins the game,
he goes dark for a year.

What happens when he loses?

Does he have to play again?

Tomorrow?

We can't let him play again.

Yeah, but how do we stop him?

Nice work, Officer Rhyme.

Thank you.

Something else?

Yes.

You're smart and you're good,

but you're arrogant, Lincoln.

But may I remind you, I had a team

and we spent a long time
tracking this guy.

You brought us the final piece,
and for that, I commend you,

but this wasn't you alone.

It was a team effort,

and if you can't play on the team,

you'll be good,

but you'll only be so good.

You said the game is
he throws and I swing,

but he's not playing me anymore.

He's playing us.

And you're right. We had a victory today.

Not a win, but a small victory.

What did we learn?

What helps us change the rules?

Today was all about your failures,

and he was throwing them in your face.

So what that says to me is

he's got his own failures that haunt him.

Like what?

Well, he hasn't failed
as the Bone Collector,

but nobody starts killing
three people in a day.

That's an escalation.

So where did he start

before he learned to get away
with everything?

Before he learned not to make mistakes?

Well, don't you think I've done that?

We went through everything.

Piled through unsolved cases for years.

Yeah, but now you have a whole team here.

We change the parameters,
look in different places,

look at other crimes.

We profile everything that we know now

and we keep looking until we find him.

So we find his first kill or his second,

where he made a mistake.

It's a good plan,

but it doesn't change the game for him.

He's gonna keep killing.

And the city's already in a panic.

Well, let's see if we can
stir up a little panic

in the Bone Collector.

Play offense.

I'm Hunter Deerfield live
with NYPD detective

Lincoln Rhyme to talk
about our breaking story:

the return of the Bone Collector.

So three years ago, your hunt
for the infamous serial killer

left you paralyzed
and retired from the force.

Today, two more New Yorkers
have been murdered,

but not a third.

That's right.

Anaña Ceru is alive.

Tonight, we beat the
Bone Collector at his game.

Now, let me ask you this.

For three years, he went dark.
Why is he back now?

I believe he's back for one reason:

to taunt me, because I'm back.

But as of tonight,
he can't do that anymore.

I quit.

- You're quitting the case?
- No.

I'm quitting the game.

Because he cheats.

His game is rigged.

It's an elaborate distraction,

so instead, I've decided...

we've decided.

My team and I,

we're going to play a new game.

So let me address
the Bone Collector directly,

if he's watching.

For eight years,
we let you set the rules,

but now we're done.

We have a new game with new rules.

And all you need to know
is we're coming for you

and we will find you.

Thank you, Detective Rhyme.

And there you have it.
A new game with new rules.

The Bone Collector better watch out.

How long have you known?

We've been after him for a few weeks.

Rach, he knows where we live.

He sent a human bone to the apartment,

and I didn't tell you

because I wanted to protect you.

Especially after everything
that you've been through.

But you deserve to know what's happening,

even if it scares me
as much as it scares you

and even if I can't promise
it'll be okay.

M... maybe you were right to lie to me.

Oh, come here.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

What Lincoln said...

a... about the new game
and the new rules...

Is that really gonna work?

Hey, Dad. You're up late.

Don't old people have to go to bed early?

Funny man.

How was basketball?

It was good.

Sorry I didn't tell you.

It's fine.

- You like it?
- I do.

Glad to hear.

So... something you wanted?

Just to... talk to you,

make sure you're good.

Well, I'm good. You?

Yeah.

I'm good now too.