My Life Is Murder (2019–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - Can't Stand the Heat - full transcript

Alexa is thrown into the world of culinary excellence while investigating the death of a cooking school student. Alexa must hone her chops to uncover a tangled web of lies, rivalry and secrets.

Mate, listen, that aftershave
you're wearing - Paco Rabanne?

A couple of drops
goes a really long way.

You know, unless you're trying to
impress somebody 100 k's downwind.

Yeah, OK, yeah, but your sense
of smell still works, right?

He said...
Yeah, got it. Thank you.

Please.
Thank you.

A few months back, a student
at a cooking school was found dead

on the classroom floor -
blunt-force head trauma.

You said sightseeing.

Yeah, we can sightsee
and chew gum at the same time.

I hate chewing gum.
How long are we up here for?



Half an hour, give or take.

You just wanted to be sure
I couldn't walk away.

How good's the view?

Coroner returned an open finding.
I'm not so sure.

Dead guy is Ivan Zhang, top student.

Kitchen staff found
his body at 8am.

Time of death was estimated
between 4 and 5am.

There was oil on the floor.

Coroner said he could have slipped
and brained himself.

What's a kid doing at school
at 4am?

This is a seriously competitive
cooking school.

The teacher drives them hard.

Every month she comes up with
some crazy, difficult recipe

to test the students.



Zhang was staying back that night

to have a crack at a dish
for the test the next day.

Some complicated salmon tureen,

caviar-and-aspic
pickled vegetables.

Ooh, caviar and aspic, lovely.

None of which use any oil
in the cooking.

Do you think they serve it
on planks of wood?

Because that would drive me
to blunt-force trauma.

OK, what about persons of interest?

Another one of the students -

Yi Ling.

She was staying back
that night too.

She says she left at 9
and went home to bed.

Her family back her up.
Ah, what are families for?

And Ling's got a temper.

She was expelled from high school
for assaulting a teacher.

Kieran, you are overselling.

Food wankers at each other's
throats - irresistible.

Yeah, you'd fit right in.
I mean, you're a good cook.

I bake bread, maybe a stir-fry.

What about those dinner parties
you guys used to throw?

I loved that homemade
pasta of yours.

I never made the pasta.

That was Gary.

You lost your phone.

It's not funny.

I paid out 600 bucks for a new one,
and everything on it looks different.

It's like learning
to ride a bike again.

Next time, take me with you.

Well, that DOES sound like
tremendous fun.

In the meantime, can you just
get me into that cooking course?

What? What's funny, Hannah?

You're going to have to get
a pair of those checked pants.

Please model this uniform for me.
Just enrol me, smart-arse.

I can enrol you as
a transferring student.

I'll fake your academic record.

But, you'll have to pretend
to know everything.

Yep, I'll struggle through. Thanks.

A couple of drops goes a long way.

Proper preparation for this
is cool performance.

I can smell onions!

You should not be frying!
Come on, focus, people!

Number one -
mise en place, precision cuts.

- How do I want them?
- Perfect, Chef!

"Perfect, Chef." What do you want?

I'm Alexa, I'm the transfer.

You're late. Find a spot
and do not hold me up.

Hi. Hi.

We're on lesson three.

Prepare poultry dishes, coq au vin
and stuffed roasted quail.

I'm Ranesh.
Hi, Ranesh. I'm Alexa.

I can hear chatting. You don't
have time to chat. Move it!

Hi, I'm Alexa.
Here's your chicken.

Thanks. Can I get some of the breast?
God, no!

Also, she's a dick.
Your potatoes should be on.

Your concasse, done!

- Come on, people!
- Yes, Chef!

Yes, Chef!

Oh, God!

We are not doing a fucking stir-fry!

What is half the battle, people?

Presentation, Chef!
Presentation.

I quite like a nice stir-fry.

What? Something funny?
Yeah, what you're doing.

Oh, shit.
Oh, Jesus wept!

You got blood on the eggplant?

Yeah, sorry.
Have you, uh, got a bandaid?

Oh, do you want me to
kiss it better, too?

You're supposed to be
past the bandaid stage.

I thought I was.
Well, clearly you're not.

I told you not to slow me down.
Get your own bandaid next time.

Oh...

So, what's this about for you?
Like a midlife crisis, or...?

Yeah, something like that.

Let me guess, um...
public servant going mad.

Surrounded by idiots.
Huh, snap.

I'm Brenda.

Yeah, I know, that's why I'm here.

I thought maybe I could,
uh, learn from you.

You want to reinvent yourself?

Well, you identify a goal,

you plan a straight path
to that goal

and you work like a dog
to get there.

Chef, how long for the figs?
Five minutes.

OK, you show me some skills,
and I'll help you.

If not, I want you out of here -
sink or swim.

I'm fine.
I was worried sick.

Hey.
Hi.

I followed up on Yi Ling.

No CCTV at the school,

but I found a report someone
phoned in to local police.

A man and a woman were seen
fighting in the car park

three weeks before Ivan was killed.

Description fits?
Ivan and Ling.

What was the fight about?

Oh, it's not recorded,
police arrived after they left.

Hey, can I have a go?
Yes.

Careful, those knives are sharp.

Well, yeah, you've got
the bandaids to prove it.

So, was it humiliating?

Look, those kids have
been at it all year,

some of them have even worked
in restaurants already,

which is cheating, if you ask me.

You asked to be dropped
in the middle of it.

OK, what is this great, big,
weird-looking turnip thing?

It's celery root.
It's good for soup.

Actually, Ling's family run a bunch
of restaurants across Melbourne,

so it's not like she's desperate.

Well, she's desperate
about something.

What did you dig up on Ivan Zhang?

Not much. Sporty,
lived with his mum.

I checked everybody's alibis too.

So, Ivan died at 4am.

They're all saying
they were in bed then,

but, fun fact, Brenda Levine,
the teacher,

she was with Diego Mann that night,
midnight until breakfast.

Wait, Diego Mann, the footballer?
Well, ex-footballer.

He's the main backer at
her new restaurant in St Kilda.

Well, that's what I call
a close working relationship.

I've dated a footballer.
Never again.

People are never as interesting
as their dating profiles,

or as good-looking
as their pictures.

In fact, I'm over dating completely.

Bet you 50 bucks you'll be back
on the circuit in three days.

Oh, you're on!

Easy money. I'm a free woman.

Done! Brunoise!

My dad taught me, he's a cook.

Oh, yeah, did he also teach
you to be a smart-arse?

No, I think I picked that up
more recently.

Why don't you go get me
Ivan Zhang's mother's address?

I will.

If I'd made Ivan come home
that night...

...if I'd let him study
cooking years ago...

You just can't blame yourself,
Mrs Zhang.

We had so many plans for him.

He won a scholarship to study law.

But he only cared about
cooking and soccer.

I tried to keep his mind on study.

One day he left and we didn't
see him for two years.

Do you know where he went?
Queensland, mostly.

He worked in restaurant kitchens,
washing dishes.

He's still here, all around!

That's his team.

Pictures, his things, reminders.

This was Ivan's.

He collected reviews,
recipes he liked.

There.

So, after a few years in Queensland,
he came home?

He tried to be a good son.

He went to uni.
But he was miserable.

We sold some things,
found the money for cooking school.

It was his dream.

I'm going to get to
the bottom of this.

I still don't understand.

They said it was an accident.

Well, the police
just want to be sure

of what happened,
for you and for Ivan.

Tell me, did you ever get the feeling

that there was any kind of bad blood
at the cooking school?

Ivan was topping the class.

He said they were his friends.

But they were all enemies, too.

That's half a litre of blood saved.

Why do you suddenly need
mad kitchen skills?

There's someone I want to impress.

Ah. Who is he?

It's a woman.
Really? OK.

So, how long has this been going on?

About 24 hours. She's a chef.

Huh!

Didn't you have a husband?
Yeah.

What?
Hey, I get it.

Life's an adventure, right?

Look out, tuck your nails under.
Guide the knife with your knuckles.

That's it.
Oh!

Teach me everything you know.

Yeah, sure, in a day.
You've got half an hour.

Hey.
I tracked down Ivan's soccer team.

The shorts aren't as tight
as the AFL guys.

Very observant. Now move your
attention to their faces

and ask some questions.

Ivan might have confided in them.

You sent me here deliberately,
but I'm not dating any of them.

Even if they ask nicely.

Now, these are good.
You can do this.

Yeah? Would you serve them?

Sure. One tip -
chefs like their seasonings.

Use twice as much pepper
as you think you need,

and three times as much salt.

Works every time.

So, tell me about your chef.
Is she nice?

She's a demanding hard-arse
with a hair-trigger temper.

Yeah. Yeah, that could work.

You won't get this chicken casserole
outside of a RSL bistro,

but it's foundational work.

Perfect sauce comes from
perfect stock.

This is so weird.

Wasn't this Ivan's space?

And cook this perfectly
and you might get a shot

at my tarragon cream mussels
this afternoon.

That would be nice.

Weren't you and Ivan good friends?

No, not really, no.

Oh, he was a really good cook,
someone said.

Listen, he got good grades,
but his food was shit.

Oh, is that why you punched him?

Someone said.
Spoon!

Not bad.

Bit of flavour, moist chicken.

Seven.

Great sauce.

Perfectly seasoned.

This is an eight.

Showing me skills.
Thanks, Chef.

Our sauce will be perfect,

and our Caponata will be perfect

because our macedoine will be...

Perfect, Chef!

And remember, I told you,

the best cook here gets the
demichef job at my new restaurant.

That would be cool.
That job is mine.

Ivan was great. I miss him.

Miss him as a player, or...
Miss everything.

He was a really good mate.

Was there anything unusual about him
in the weeks before he died?

He was way distracted.

Missed heaps of training.
Missed a semifinal, which we lost.

Well, did he say
what was bugging him?

Hardly saw him.
That cooking school ate his life.

It's awesome that a detective
finally showed up, though.

No stone unturned.

Are you thinking it
wasn't an accident?

Well, we want to make sure.

If me and the boys
can help, we will.

Ask them if they remember anything -
it might be small, doesn't matter.

Sure.

I should get back to it.

But maybe we can get together later,

have another chat about it?

Ah, yeah. Can I get your number?

Yeah.

Here we go, yep.

With only half the cream sauce
in the pasta,

it stays a little stiff, sits up.

Do not give me flat pasta.

Alexa.
Hang on a sec.

Then we're gonna
spoon on the mussels.

Do not overcook your mussels.

Then we're going to add
some extra sauce,

and please let it bleed
over the plate.

Some colour...

Alexa.

Wait a sec.
Garnish. Don't forget your tarragon.

Your roasted garlic -
there's a problem.

Voila. Go play!

And the best five cooks
get a tour tonight,

give you a head start
to the demichef job.

Oh, that looks like a one.

Do you need a fire-extinguisher?

Uh, no, Chef. All good now.

My fault. I guess I'm just
not used to this oven.

I know you did that.
Sabotage is for dead shits.

Right, well, you get
a golden ticket for tonight

based on the strength of your sauce.

Based on the strength of your sauce.

Get rid of that.
Yes, Chef. Thank you.

Mature students are always
a pain in the arse.

Yeah, well, people who generalise
are always just dickheads.

You can't cook to save your life,
but you're in my face.

More special treatment.

More?

Hey.
Housekeeping.

I've sent you some shots
the CSOs had.

Stuff from Ivan's locker -

spare clothes, cooking bags.

His kit they collected
from the kitchen.

There'll be a photo icon
on your home screen.

Uh-huh.
It's nothing very interesting.

Yeah, but those knives...

...that's a Japanese brand.

I think I should
interview Simon again,

Ivan's friend from his soccer team.

Oh, yeah?

I've arranged to
meet him one-on-one.

He was very keen... to help.

That sounds a lot like a date.

Oh, no, it's definitely not.
It's much more formal than that.

Madison, just don't go sleeping with
any witnesses or suspects, alright?

What?! I mean, no.

Night.
As if.

If you have passion,
this is where it leads.

15 years of my life
is distilled right here.

It's awesome.

That must be terrifying, Chef.

Terrifying and exciting.

Two faces of the one coin.

You're the first students
to come here. Come on, soak it up.

One of you could end up
working in there.

We have no plates, no wineglasses.
Diego, not here. Not here.

We open in two days.
Yeah, I know.

The supplier's number
is on the paperwork.

Tell them tomorrow or
I will be making testicle pate.

Right, I need some help.

Let's make perfect stock.

So, I'm interested in what you said

about Ivan being distracted
in the weeks before he died.

Did he ever mention a fight
with one of the other students?

No. I don't think so.

Something definitely changed.

Hi, guys.
Specials are there at the bottom.

Thanks.

Oh, you're Alexa's friend.
Oh, colleague.

Can I get you something to drink?
Oh, um, I will if you...

Oh, no, I'm alright.
But, I mean, go for it.

Oh, no, just water.

Do you want something to eat?
You look like you're going out.

Oh, yeah.
No, it's just a work thing.

No, I'm alright.

So, two glasses of water.

Yeah, that would be great, thanks.
Thanks.

So, those times Ivan
missed training?

It wasn't just training.

We used to hang out a bit.

In the weeks before he died,
he burned me two or three times.

Cancelled by text. No explanation.

Harsh.

I had a go at him,
but he shut me down.

So that was evenings?
Do you have exact dates for me?

Yeah, I've still got the texts.
Two waters.

Ranesh, red onions. Daniel, carrots.
Alexa...

Alexa, can you pull three chickens
out of the freezer to defrost?

Yes, Chef.

Boy!

Whoa!
Sorry, sorry.

Idiot!

- Sorry, it's my mother.
- Oh, I heard that.

Yeah. Hey, get to the point.
I'm really busy now.

OK, I've seen the texts

where he cancelled hanging out
with Simon.

Three Friday nights.

"Sorry, dude, sad face, sad face."

I want to access Ivan's metadata,
see where he went.

Assuming he had his phone.

Of course he had his phone,
he's 27 years old.

Unless he lost it.

While you're at it, I want you
to check Ling's phone

the night Ivan died.

Test her alibi.

If you took a call
during dinner service,

your chef would boot you
out the back door.

Wake up.
Yes, Chef.

Hello.

Yes, could I please get a duck
confit with a side of fries?

If you ask nicely
I'll do you a concasse.

Ooh, yummy. What's that?
Tomato sauce.

Hey-up

Bloody food wankers, huh?

I know.
Here, have some chrysanthemum tea.

Oh, I like that blue.

Matches your shirt.
Yeah.

Been to the storage unit.

Yeah, I needed to get out Gary's
knives for the course.

And his pasta machine.

I don't need it. The course
has already done pasta-making.

Madison got me out of bed at six
to organise phone data warrants.

What have you got?

Well, Ling is a hothead
with a motive.

Ivan was getting
the better of her in class

and I think they were arguing
over a job.

I think the murder weapon
was a frozen chicken.

You know, once it thaws, murder
weapon disappears. Abracadabra.

Murder most fowl.

This is really bugging me. Here.

These are Ivan's knives.
They're Japanese, Shun brand.

They cost thousands of dollars
a set.

Chefs need good knives.

Yeah, but Ivan had no money.

His family had to sell furniture
to pay for the course,

so where did he get it?

There you go.
I didn't order that.

Neither did anyone else.
You said you were gonna serve it.

I just did. It's a garnish,
not a meal.

You cut them, you eat them.
No wastage.

Alright, alright.

How's the date?

It wasn't a date,
it was an interview.

George said it looked like a date.
It was totally a date.

We had a glass of water.
Wow, you're a very big spender.

I went into Ivan's class records.

He was getting average marks
the first term,

then suddenly shot up to
the top of the class

a few weeks before he died.

When he had the fight with Ling.
Allegedly.

And also, three Friday nights
in a row he went to the same spot

in St Kilda for an hour,

but Street View shows a vacant
appliance warehouse there.

Is it on the corner
of Fitzroy and Blue streets?

How did you know that?
I was there last night.

It used to be an appliance warehouse
a couple of months ago

and now it's about to be
Melbourne's hottest restaurant.

Oh, and I double-checked
Ling's alibi.

She was texting contacts past
midnight. That's in the case file.

And a fishmonger posted
a photo of her

picking up seafood
with her dad at 4:10am.

She couldn't be in
two places at once.

OK, I'll get back to you, Madison.

Alright, I want to get
out of here by three.

The restaurant is calling.

Oh, Alexa, are you ever
on time for anything?

No, Chef. Sorry, Chef.
Alright, workflow.

What shall we start with first?

What takes forever
in the steam ovens?

The galantine, Chef.
Exactly.

Finish deboning those chooks,
people.

Hey, Ling.
If you want help, ask Ranesh.

Ivan had a really great set
of Japanese knives, right?

Why do you know that?
Did he start the course with them?

No, he had the cheap ones.

When did he get the Shun?
I don't know.

Was it about the time
his marks went up?

His marks didn't go up
because he got the knives.

He still couldn't cut
a julienne for shit.

Thanks.

Chef?
Yep.

Quick question.

I've heard Ivan had
a really great set of knives.

Ivan?
Yeah, Shun brand.

Should I invest in those?

Did he?
Yeah, yeah.

Just like the ones that you're
holding in your portrait.

Um...
Wait.

Did you give him those knives?

You did!
Yeah. Uh...

Don't tell the others, but, yes,
it was a huge favour. Huge.

You're a big marshmallow,
aren't you? Yes, you are.

I like to do things for people
I get on with, like you.

And I want my best students
to do better,

and Ivan was very good.

It's such a loss.

What the fuck are you doing?!

Sorry, Chef, my knife slipped.

Oh, no, don't apologise to me.
Apologise to the fucking chicken!

I mean, the farce will be ruined
by the time the chicken's cooked!

Here!

Hey! Go work with Mikka!

Yes, Chef.

Ling, turn on the exhaust fans!

That is your job!
Yes, Chef.

Steam ovens are on and we are
cooking faster than the chicken!

Wow! That's noisy.
It's another day at the office.

Hey, listen.

I want you to arrange a meeting.
I want to talk to Simon.

Mm. If you insist.
Wait, what have you found?

Brenda was doing a whole lot
of favours for Ivan all of a sudden.

Higher marks, get him a bloody great
set of bloody knives!

Oh, you think they
were having an affair?

Hard to know, isn't it?
What did I say about phones?

Hello?

Weird how people sometimes get
the wrong idea.

Simon, hi.
Hey.

This is my colleague Alexa Crowe.
How do you do?

She has some questions.
Cool.

Thank you, Detective.
Do you need to get your breath?

No, no, I'm good.

So, I believe that you
were a friend of Ivan.

Yeah, yeah, good mates.
Used to hang out a bit.

He was the one who
introduced me to my fiancee.

Oh, nice.

So, did he ever talk about
his relationship with a woman

who takes his class - Brenda Levine?

Relationship?

You're not saying
they were on together?

No, but there were a number
of secret meetings.

Do you know anything about that?

I know that he wanted
to work for her.

But he said her recipes were troppo.

Troppo? Not mad or crazy?

No. Troppo.

Thanks, Simon. That's it.
Thanks. See ya.

Wow, dangerous business getting
involved with an engaged men.

I did not go on a date with him!

OK. You still owe me 50 bucks.

You never thought
Brenda and Ivan were on?

No, Brenda is driven.

She wouldn't risk it all
by having sex with a student.

Let alone in a place where her
rich boyfriend could walk in.

So, what does 'troppo' mean?

I think I might know.

Please be careful.

This is precious.

I know it is.
I'll take very good care of it.

May I?

Thank you.

Mrs Zhang, do you really want to
know everything about your son?

We tend to idealise our
loved ones after death.

But the truth is usually
more complicated.

What are you saying?

I think your son was
a very complex young man.

It may have contributed
to his death.

Tarragon cream mussels.

This was the recipe that
Brenda Levine got from Ivan,

who, in turn, got it from
the Tropicana Buono Cele

in Townsville, 10 years ago.

But Brenda claims it's her recipe?

Yeah.

Coffee or cucumber this morning?
Coffee, please.

Hey, George, what if you had
the best sourdough bruschetta

in Melbourne, but the chef you stole
the recipe from called you out on it?

Firstly, it would be my recipe
and they would be stealing from me.

Well, yeah.
But, yeah, it's no big deal.

We steal each other's
ideas all the time.

Mm.
How did your date end up?

It wasn't a date.
You want another glass of water?

I'll have a coffee, too.
That's the way. Live it up.

Asian julienne, salmon
and asparagus tureen.

This also is Brenda's recipe,

and that's what Ivan was making
the night that he died.

Yeah, I reckon the aspic did it!

Oh, "chef Elaine Summer".

Hello, Troppo Girl!

Hey, what you got?

Facial recognition is running.

I don't know.

Different hair,
different hair colour.

I mean, this photo is
really old and faded.

You might be right.

It's a match.

Brenda Levine is Elaine Summer.

And she didn't steal
the recipes from Ivan's book,

they were hers the whole time.

Ivan recognised her

and realised he knew her from
Townsville 10 years before.

Wait, why does that matter?

And why would she change
her name anyway?

Elaine Summer made a mistake.
She served week-old bearnaise sauce.

One customer died of food poisoning.

She must have been booted
out of the industry.

So, she's making a comeback
as Chef Brenda.

I think Ivan was blackmailing her,

so she smashed his skull in.

How? She was in bed
with Diego Mann when he died?

No, no. And get Diego
to do a strawberry run.

You're not invited.
I've got enough hands.

Just came to soak up the buzz.

Did your plates come in?

Stop being such a tourist,
Alexa, I'm busy.

Hey, just one quick question.

Why didn't you tell police that
you worked with Ivan 10 years ago

at Tropicana?

What's the story, Elaine?

I don't talk about Townsville
because I'm ashamed of it.

Yes, I changed my name,
of course I did,

and you would have done
the same thing.

Yeah, it does help you
get back into business.

But, uh...
does your investor know?

Who are you?

Alexa Crowe.

I'm investigating the death
of Ivan Zhang.

I spoke to the police.
You told them nothing.

Your whole life is a lie.
But since when?

It's not a lie.
I'm passionate about food.

I can't do anything else.

Ivan was passionate about food, too.

He felt the same way, and
his death was a terrible accident.

He was blackmailing you.

And I was with Diego
the night Ivan died.

Yeah, Diego, the alibi
you prepared earlier.

Get out. Get out.

Be careful with that.
It's really sharp.

Oh, and, um...

...you owe me a phone.

So, you don't believe
Brenda's alibi?

Diego said that Brenda arrived
before midnight and left at seven.

But he's her investor. He's got
a lot to lose if she goes down.

Have you got it yet?

Give me a break,
I can't just click my fingers

and bring up any old CCTV footage.

Well, just call me when you get it.
I'm getting it. I'm getting it.

You know, for someone
who's always late,

you're an incredibly
impatient person.

OK... got it.

Here she comes. 11:58pm.

OK, now scroll forward and make sure
she didn't leave in the wee hours.

On it.

It's just people coming home late.
Drunk people.

People who have been
on disappointing dates.

So, how could she have
killed Ivan at 4am?

Unless she hired some muscle.
Brenda's a chef.

She has to be at the
centre of everything.

Everything is the Brenda Show.

There she goes, 7am in the morning
like she said.

What now?

Well, now, let me see.

Now what?

Oh, come on.

George.

George-ous.
Yes?

I am making caviar in aspec
on a salmon tureen.

I need caviar and gelatine.

What? Do you think this is a deli.

What the hell?
Do me a favour.

Are you ever going to do me one?
Yeah.

Gelatine?
Ah, jeez.

There you go.
Salmon?

You get your fish
from the fish shop.

My little friend.

Come here, my little friend.

Ooh-la-la.

None for you.

OK, well, that took forever,
but not all night.

What's wrong with this picture?

Madison, I need details of the
cooking school's electricity usage

across the day and night
when Ivan died.

Thanks.

Man, you're as welcome as
a tuna on the creme brulee.

You got the job, Ling.
Congratulations.

Three ceviche. One mezze plate.
Two quail.

Yes, Chef.
What did Ivan want, Brenda?

Get out. Get out of my restaurant.

He came here one Friday night.
Then the next and the next.

The recipes you'd been inventing
seemed familiar to him.

And then he remembered.

Elaine from his Townsville days.

Remembered how he'd
lost his job there.

He wanted to do well.

He needed to do well for his family,
so you helped him.

Gave him your best knives.

Risotto.
I need that risotto, please.

Yes, Chef.

You gave him good marks

even though his food
wasn't very good.

Didn't have much flair, did he?
That's horseshit.

Service.

But then Ivan asked for too much.

You knew that he was working back

trying to perfect
one of your recipes.

So you waited till Ling left...

...then you surprised him.

You cracked his skull open
with a frozen chicken.

Then you left out more
chickens to defrost.

Normal procedure.
Smeared a little oil on the ground.

Shit.

Now you needed to cook the recipe

to make it look as if Ivan had been
up all night.

You shut off the exhaust fans,

turned on the commercial ovens

and set the timer to,
what, six hours?

The room heated up

and Ivan's body stayed warm a lot
longer than normal.

Estimated time of death, 4am.

But the school's electricity usage
spiked hard from 10pm.

Of course, the room had cooled down
by the time that they found the body.

But you'd done enough
to fool the pathologist.

One more ceviche.
Yes, Chef.

Get that beef off, it's done.
Yes, Chef.

It was the aspic, Brenda.

What do you know about aspic.
Well, I made it.

Your recipe.
It's terrific at normal temperature.

But when things heat up,
it's just a puddle of liquid.

Still tastes great, though.

You know what he wanted?

He wanted to be my partner.
He wanted to tie himself to me.

But he wasn't good enough.

He was never going
to be good enough.

And I was never going to
be able to forget

the one stupid thing I did.

Could you not...

...could you not have let me
have just one day?

You actually taught me a lot.

Victim's name is
Christina Cortez. 22 years old.

Assistant at a PR place.

Christina was involved
in a fatal hit-and-run.

The driver swears that somebody
pushed the girl in front of her car.

PR and social media
sounds right up my alley.

You want to know what really
happened to my daughter,

ask the woman who broke her heart.

Ask Morgana Finch.

I'm asking you nicely -
leave this alone.

Captions by Red Bee Media