♪ ♪
I can't believe my mother made me take out my nose ring.
How do you think I feel in this penguin suit?
It's better than this dress.
I look like a wedding cake.
Actually, it's kind of hot.
If you like the whole virginal daughter thing.
Oh, please.
There isn't a virgin in the room.
Debutante balls are such a joke.
Screw family tradition.
I wish I was raised by wolves.
Mom says you and Uncle Jamie and Uncle Joe used to play detective around the house.
Mm-hmm.
So, you always wanted to be a cop?
Well, actually, when I was three, I wanted to be a fireman for Halloween. Um...
But Grandpa, your great-grandfather, said, "As long as I'm alive, "no Reagan will ever wear a turnout coat
"because the FDNY is nothing but a bunch of thieves and glory hounds."
His words.
What happened?
Well, Grandpa found me the smallest blue uniform he could find and he let me use his slapper for a day.
I got so much candy from shaking down the kids in the neighborhood, that I decided I never wanted to take the uniform off again.
You never did.
Not until I made detective.
What other questions you got?
Well, Mrs. Eaton says the point of oral history is stories.
Mmm, well, Mrs. Eaton's very smart.
I don't have as many stories as Grandpa, but I'll see what I can do.
My feet are k*lling me, and if I have to smile any longer, my face will cr*ck.
At least two more hours.
Let's go get high.
Mrs. Carmichael's watching.
If we get caught, we're gonna get in pretty big trouble.
You know that, right?
We won't.
(laughs)
Yeah, jail break.
Right under the warden's nose.
Come out here. Come out here.
So you've got it?
Tell me you've got a light.
Do I ever not have a light?
Here we go.
(door opening)
Hide. Go, go, go, go. Hide, hide, hide. Hide, quick.
God. Who's that?
It's Mrs. Carmichael.
Quiet, she'll hear you.
(screaming)
(cell phone buzzing)
Uh-oh.
Reagan.
No. No, no, no. I'm on my meal right now.
Yes.
Yes, sir.
Forthwith.
I'm going to have to take a rain check on the interview, kid.
But it's your break.
Well, my break's over.
They found a body at a debutante ball, so I'm going to have to go.
It seems the Chief of D's is showing off for the Trumps.
What, drive all the way from Manhattan to Park Slope and come right back? It'll take forever.
I'm not going to let you take the train.
Let me come with you.
No. No.
I'm gonna be a cop. I got to learn sometime.
Nicky, your mother would k*ll me.
Grandpa let you ride along when you were 14.
Yeah, and Grandpa caught a five day rip when he did.
You'll get ten if you show up at the scene at midnight.
Please, Uncle Danny...
(sighs)
Just like your mother. Come on.
Come on.
(sirens wailing, excited chattering)
All right, Nicky.
In the car until your Uncle Jamie gets here to take you home. You got it?
I told you I would. All right.
Thank you.
Hey, what do we got?
A cluster.
I locked down the hotel.
Um, they got every Fortune 500 kid in there, and they're begging to let their kids go.
We know if the DOA is a debutante?
No. There's no I.D.
There's no clothes on her, for that matter.
Looks like the perp took the clothes and dropped them somewhere else.
I see the vultures from the press are starting to gather.
You want to have these uniforms keep them back, so we don't get a photo op before we notify next of kin?
Thanks, Jack. All right.
Hey.
Hey. Jane Doe's a teenage girl.
Head trauma and strangulation. Oh, man. She's young.
MEDICAL EXAMINER: Yeah. 16, 17 years old.
(sighs)
OFFICER: Hey, kid. Get out of there.
What are you doing?
Huh? Hey, are you guys asleep over here or what?
Sorry, sir. I told you to wait in the car.
Hey. You get back in the car and you wait for your uncle.
Get in there!
You guys, keep your eyes open.
* Blue Bloods 1x16 *
Age of Innocence
Original Air Date on February 25, 2011
♪ ♪
Hey. Sorry I'm late. Just, uh...
No. It's all right. Thanks for coming.
No problem. But is, uh...
You think Erin's going to...?
She's gonna k*ll me. It's all right.
I won't tell her. What do you mean?
No, no, no. No dice. You got to...
It's my fault. I promised I'd stay in the car.
Mom's gonna flip out on you.
Listen, you go home and you tell your mom the truth.
Okay? I'll call her myself later.
We'll straighten it all out.
Deal?
Okay.
All right. Be good.
Thanks.
Hey, Jamie.
All right, so nobody recognized the girl.
The place is full.
It looks like we're about to have the first riot ever, in the history of the Social Register.
Oh, rioting rich people.
I'm sure they'll change their tune if the DOA happens to be one of theirs.
No. It couldn't be one of our girls.
Why don't you just take a look at the picture, and see if you recognize her?
No.
Exactly how many debutantes did you have here tonight, ma'am?
CARMICHAEL: It's our annual cotillion.
About 50, from all over the world.
50, huh?
What a tragedy for all these lovely young women.
We had to stop the ball before the presentation of the debutantes.
Oh, yeah. Well, not to mention the tragedy of the young woman who was m*rder*d.
And then there's that.
You know all these girls personally?
Of course.
These are society's most promising young women.
Of course. Okay.
Take another look. A real look.
Definitely not.
One of the most important nights in this city's social calendar and it's just been ruined by some-some nobody.
Probably a street kid.
Yeah. A dead street kid.
She's definitely not a street kid.
She's in excellent health.
Yeah, well, you mean, aside from her being dead.
Good nutrition, clean skin, looks like she had braces on her teeth.
She's somebody's well-loved daughter.
Okay. So she comes from a good family.
Somebody report her missing?
You'd think.
I ran her prints through Missing Persons.
No match.
All right. Let's take a look.
Forensics come up with anything that can help us I.D. the k*ller?
Male, from the size of the hands.
You see the thumbprints on either side of the larynx?
Yeah. She's got eight fingertip bruises in the back of her neck.
It's up close and personal.
People are sick.
Well, strangling someone takes time, and a lot of anger.
Mm-hmm. Whoever it is probably knew who she was.
Whoever she is, she didn't deserve to be m*rder*d and dumped in the trash.
I'll tell you that.
Thanks.
FRANK: Yes, Baker?
The mayor's new deputy press secretary is here, sir.
Five minutes early.
Okay.
Miss Connors?
Thank you. Commissioner.
Sue Connors. It's so good to meet you.
Nice to meet you. Welcome to New York.
It's a little bit colder than Atlanta, but I'm having a ball.
Please, sit down.
Thank you.
Ah...
So, what can I do for you?
Well, we sent you some material.
We've been inundated with requests about you.
I've got to tell you, I've been doing this a long time, Commissioner, and I've never seen such a deluge of media interest.
I am talking about an in-depth feature in Vanity Fair, a fabulous spread in GQ, and New York Magazine wants you on the cover.
That would be the "Ten Most Eligible Men" cover.
Somehow, I don't think that's for me.
So you've read my proposal.
I did.
(chuckles)
Well, you could have told me that.
You didn't ask.
I've heard you're publicity-shy, but like it or not, Commissioner, this latest incident puts you on the national radar.
You're a hero.
Getting sh*t didn't make me a hero.
Well, the mayor feels this exposure would be very good for New York.
You mean, the mayor feels that it might be useful during the upcoming election.
And that would be useful for both of you.
May I remind you, you serve at the mayor's pleasure.
And may I remind you that I have my own deputy commissioner of public information.
Hmm. All due respect, I don't think you're being well-served by him.
This meeting's over.
You know what I think?
I have no idea what you think.
I think you're dug into a position, and you think it's a sign of weakness to change your mind.
And I resent your obdurateness.
Good.
There's no reasoning with someone like you.
You're walled off, and you don't even know it.
But I see right through you.
Have a nice day.
DANNY: I swear, if I got to look at one more businessman with a wheelie getting off an elevator, I'm going to eat my g*n.
Oh, sh**t me first, please.
It'd be a mercy k*lling.
Oh, tell me about it.
Oh, look.
There's our victim in the polka dots.
Who's the little redhead she's arguing with?
She's a hooker.
She works the pervs who like 'em young.
I know because I remember her when I worked Vice.
She's about 25.
You got a name?
I don't remember.
All right, well, the M.E. said that the-the k*ller was probably a man, based on the strangulation marks.
Maybe these two had a little girl-on-girl action planned for the john, something goes wrong.
Well, either way, she could be a witness to a homicide.
(both laughing)
Of course you were. That was not bad.
You tell a good joke.
See? You're funnier than you think.
Yeah.
Hey, Renzulli, I want to report a crime.
Damn tagger vandalized my gate.
Hey, Nestor. That's you.
That's a pretty good likeness.
He made me fat.
Ah, that's terrible.
Kids today.
Do you have any idea who did this?
Well, if I did, I'd handle it myself.
I got a Louisville slugger behind the counter.
Take it easy, Pops. All right?
Hey, it looks like they, uh, signed it, too.
Looks like "TMac""
Well, great. Now you got a name.
MAN: Checking in, sir?
Uh, actually, checking out is more like it.
You get a lot of hooker traffic around here?
Um, what hotel guests do in the privacy of their own room is their business.
Okay, but if, uh, one of those guests wanted a little help making that transaction, they'd probably turn to a smart guy like yourself.
It's against hotel policy to help guests with illegal transactions.
Kid, I'm not trying to roust you here, okay?
I just want to know where the lonely hearts might turn if they're looking for a little jailbait or something.
Normally, that information doesn't come cheap.
Really?
Well, how about I slap these cuffs on you and drag your ass out of here?
I might mention Elite Escorts.
They're very discreet.
Good. And if I was partial to redheads?
Ask for Tiffani.
I'll do that.
(shower running, knocking on door)
Um, hi.
It's Tiffani.
Maybe I should join you.
You could soap me up, get me all clean.
I've been a very dirty girl.
It's just a little extra for water play.
It's not a problem, is it, Daddy?
Actually, you got two problems.
One is I'm not your daddy.
Second is you're under arrest.
Turn around.
Come on. Turn around.
It's a shame. You're cute.
(chuckles)
m*rder? I didn't k*ll anyone.
Well, this is you and her on a hotel surveillance video, and that's you hassling her.
And, coincidentally enough, she turns up, three and a half hours, dead in an alley.
So?
So, you tell us what happened, and we'll go easy on you.
What? I didn't know the bitch.
Then why were you fighting with her?
That hotel is my turf.
She came in looking all nervous, dressed like me.
I figured she was working.
So, she's on your stroll. So she pissed you off?
You're damn right. I got an exclusive with the bellhops.
Was she a hooker, too?
Well, she said she wasn't.
But I told her to get off my track.
She acted like I didn't know what I was talking about.
Well, did she tell you what she was doing there at the hotel, then?
She said she was meeting her boyfriend for the weekend.
She looks a little young for a romantic getaway.
So do I. Drives the guys nuts.
Oh.
HENRY: Morning.
FRANK: Morning, Pop.
How's that shoulder?
Stiff, first thing.
(sighs)
The mayor's got a new press secretary.
Yeah?
She's a piece of work.
Wants me to do magazine covers and personal interest stuff.
Really? What do you think?
I think it got you in a lot of trouble.
(laughs) It got me fired.
Then why'd you do it?
Well, I didn't know that would be the result.
What I was trying to do was change the perception of the city.
You remember how wild it was before we cleaned it up.
And the mayor thought that I was trying to upstage him and take all the credit.
Mayor's trying to turn me into a hero.
We could use one.
You think I should do it?
Don't put words in my mouth.
Can I tell you something?
I don't think I'm going to have a choice.
Meaning? There's something on your mind, Pop.
Francis, you were circling the drain when they brought you to the hospital.
Not quite.
Life is short.
It's over before you know it.
I'm talking about grabbing a little bit of it.
Having some fun.
You had a life-changing experience.
Like losing your wife and your son?
Compared to that, getting sh*t's nothing.
All right, so what have we got? Our girl comes into town to meet her boyfriend at the hotel.
And who is he? Is he a rich guy from the city?
Or a businessman out of town?
Odds are, he's older. Maybe he's married. Maybe he's not.
Never sleep with a married man.
Don't say that too loud.
The sarge will have a broken heart.
(groans)
Please.
Anyway, she goes upstairs, but never comes back down.
Yet somehow she ends up dead in the alley. How's that happen?
It's too bad they don't have, uh, cameras on the guest floors.
DANNY: Yeah, the case would be solved already.
Can I talk to you, please?
(clears throat)
Look, I was going to call you.
Yeah, that would have been nice.
Instead, I had to hear it from the principal at her school.
I had to hear about how she's going around telling all the other kids about a m*rder*d girl, and all the gory details with it.
Well, she said she was going to talk to you herself.
That's not the point.
You took my daughter to a crime scene.
You didn't even talk to me about it. Oh, come on.
For what? A ninth grade school paper?
I thought she was going to stay in the car.
She's 14 years old.
What 14 year old is going to stay in the car?
Okay, well, what do you want me to do?
You want me to cuff her to the armrest? What?
She shouldn't have been in that car.
(sighs)
I'm sorry.
If I could take it back, I would.
I'm sorry.
Great.
She didn't need this, Danny.
(sighs)
I'm feeling like a meatball sub.
Yeah? Why don't we hit that deli on Tenth?
That's a good idea.
Hey. Oh. Oh.
Hey. Well, looky here.
TMac, back in the nabe of the crime.
Hey, Picasso!
Hey, kid! Stop!
I hate it when they run.
Go around. We'll cut him off. All right.
Come here, you son of a g*n. Hey!
Stop right there! You little scoundrel.
Son of a g*n.
Hey, Mr. Picasso!
You're mine, kid!
Hey! Hey, you son of a g*n!
Sucker's fast, that kid.
What do you know? A lifetime supply of spray paint.
And what else?
There you go.
Textbooks.
Bet I know which he uses more.
Oh.
It's property of Chadmore Prep, signed out to Mr. Tom Mackey.
"TMac."
I got you, kid. Dead and stinking.
We have over 1,500 rooms, and we were fully booked on Thursday.
JACKIE: Well, we'll need a list. That's 1,500 perps.
Or more. The conventioneers like to bring their wives or girlfriends.
Not to mention the body parts.
The what?
Uh, the prosthetic makers.
They've been playing practical jokes on our staff.
Room service found a hand in a dinner trolley.
We really need the list, please.
Okay.
It's gonna take at least a week to go through all those names.
Yeah, it is.
(sighs)
Unless... you know, we, um... leak the girl's photo to the press.
I'm just saying. Oh...
Come on. You know the media.
A young girl m*rder*d. They're gonna eat it up.
I'm telling you. It will be a national story in 24 hours.
Can't hurt. And headlines is going to read, "The police don't have a lead."
Mmm... We make the NYPD look bad.
For a minute.
Look, we' can't find the k*ller until we know who the girl is, right?
Headquarters is going to be pissed.
Yeah. I got one Reagan mad at me already.
Might as well double down.
(theme music plays)
REPORTER: In a breaking news update, the body of an unidentified teenage girl was found today outside an upscale New York City hotel.
Anonymous sources say the police have no leads and have not yet identified the scantily-clad victim.
Is that right? Oh, she was abducted by aliens?
All right, I'll tell you what. Give NASA a call, okay?
Good-bye. It's your daughter?
This is Detective Reagan. Are you sure?
Uh-huh. Okay, we'll get right back to you.
I'm so sorry.
Go ahead.
And the name's Betsy?
Okay. Thank you.
It's a teacher from Upstate. Says the girl's name is Betsy...
Betsy Vickers.
Vickers. I was just speaking to her father from Brewster.
I'll bring her up on DMV.
(keyboard clacking) Vickers...
Betsy...
Here we go.
16 years old.
She just got her learner's permit.
(groans) Her father said she was his pride and joy.
He's beside himself.
Well, then the M.E. was right.
She said she probably came from a loved family.
Who would want to k*ll a little girl like this?
An animal.
Here you go.
Thank you.
I just... I just don't understand what Betsy was doing in New York.
Where'd you think she was?
In, uh...
Skiing in Vermont with friends.
It-It-It was a reward for her midterm report card.
She's always struggled with science, (sobbing): but this time, she worked so hard.
So you, uh, didn't know she was missing, then?
No. I...
You know, we told her to go on the trip.
You know, have a wonderful time, all that, and then... and then we saw that photo on TV.
Oh. I'm sorry you had to find out that way.
Did you call at all? Check in?
I worried. I wanted to call.
But I told him not to.
Let her have some freedom.
(sobbing): Oh, God.
My baby was dead, and I didn't even know.
I'm sorry. I can't.
I can't. JACKIE: We'll go get some air.
Thank you.
A couple more questions, okay, Mr. Vickers?
Do you know if Betsy was dating anyone at all?
No.
She-She had boyfriends, you know, like kids...
She dated a little bit.
She said most of the guys just wanted to get drunk and get to third base.
No. She was at home every weekend.
Hmm. She go online a lot?
Yeah, like every kid goes online.
Oh, here's the computer you asked for.
We brought her yearbook and some other stuff.
I tried to get on it, but I don't know the password.
It's okay. We'll have our tech people take a look at it, see what they can find.
(girl screaming)
Nicky?
You okay?
What did you see?
(panting)
Hey. Shh. I had a bad dream.
Okay.
It's over.
There was this man, and he was chasing us, and he caught us, and somebody was screaming, and she was just lying there with her eyes open.
Okay. It's over. It's over.
It's... Somebody k*lled her.
Okay, sweetie.
Come on.
It's just a dream.
Shh. It's okay.
MAN: Cracked the password.
Couldn't really find anything juicy... excuse me... on her e-mail account.
It was mostly just gossip between girlfriends, but, uh, I found something kind of interesting here, on her Social Gizmo page.
It's a bunch of private messages between Betsy and this guy, Lee Huntington.
"If I know what love is, it's because you taught me."
Ah, very romantic guy.
Yeah. It's just, like, poetry.
Wait, listen to this one. "You will be mine on Thursday.
I can't wait to hold you in my arms."
And choke your neck.
She was m*rder*d on Thursday. Yeah, she was.
Looks like her prince turned out to be a frog, right?
Or maybe just a possessive freak.
Either way, I think we got a suspect.
Uh, well, actually, I-I looked him up, and there's no record of any Lee Huntington in any of the department databases.
There's always a first time.
There's something about that name.
Huntington.
Huntington. It's, uh, familiar because it's one of the large hedge fund families.
Like, the Black, uh, Blackstone Group.
Ah. Bingo.
Marshall Lee Huntington was at the debutante ball, which puts him at the hotel on Thursday.
Same night as our victim. Mm-hmm.
I like when rich people do bad things.
Let's take a ride.
We need to speak to Marshall Lee Huntington.
Please wait here. I'll go get him.
This guy's gonna miss his maid in Rikers.
He may end up being somebody's maid in Rikers.
(chuckling)
You Marshall Lee Huntington?
Can I help you, Officers?
I'm Detective Reagan. This is my partner, Detective Curatola.
Excuse me, but I don't think you should be having this conversation without Mr. Huntington present.
Who are you?
I'm Howard Markham. Marshall's tutor.
And this isn't a good time.
We're in the middle of SAT prep.
Don't be a tool, Howard.
Let's see what they want.
I've heard enough about Lord Myron.
It's Byron. Lord Byron.
And I'm getting your father.
Speaking of names, you go by Marshall or Lee?
My friends call me Marshall, but my family calls me Lee.
Why? Well...
This about that dead girl at the hotel?
Well, that dead girl has a name. It's Betsy Vickers.
Do you know her?
No.
Really? Well, you invited her to the hotel for a hookup.
What? No.
I was there for the debutante ball, with my girlfriend.
Or maybe you had a big night planned.
A little city, and country action on the side.
I don't know what the hell you're talking about.
Don't say another word, Lee.
They have no right to talk to you.
Howard, you can go.
And you are?
I'm Truscott Huntington.
And what is your business here?
Uh, we're just having a little chat with your son, sir.
They're asking about that m*rder*d girl.
You have a warrant?
No.
Then get out of here.
Your son's 18, sir. He can answer questions for himself.
Go. Learn something, will you?
Well, have a glorious day.
RENZULLI: No tags on these walls.
I guess TMac doesn't like dirtying his own nest.
(knocking)
Hey, kid. Come on out here.
Man. Look, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.
Oh, well, if you're sorry, you know?
Please, please. Don't arrest me. It's gonna k*ll my mom.
You should have thought of that before you were vandalizing private property.
It's not vandalism. It's art. It's what I do.
It's my passion. Good.
Now we got something to talk about on the way to the precinct.
Please. Just listen to me. Please.
Just come in. Let me show you what I do.
It'll only take a second.
After that, I promise, I'll go wherever you guys want me to go. I swear to God.
Please!
Okay.
All right.
Yeah, you have 15 seconds.
Let's go.
Come in.
JAMIE: You did all these drawings?
TOM: Every one.
RENZULLI: Yeah?
That's great.
You can pretty up your cell at, uh, Bridges Juvie.
I got in the School of Visual Arts early.
Yeah?
I'll be the first one in my family to go to college.
My two brothers are in jail.
I know I screwed up.
Please. I just... I just need another chance.
Oh, brother.
Put the cuffs away, Reagan.
You just keep the ink on the page from now on.
Yes, sir.
Don't make me come back here.
Lucky.
I saw you guys leave here, but now you're back here empty-handed.
I told you I wanted a body. Where you at?
We're close, boss. We are.
We, uh, have a named suspect and we're just connecting the dots.
All right. Good.
I don't know, Jack.
What are you thinking?
I don't know. I mean, I know this Lee Huntington kid looks good for this. I'm just not sure.
Well, if not him, then who?
I don't know. I mean, we've got no phone records of him ever calling Betsy.
Surveillance cameras don't show him anywhere near any elevators going up to any guest rooms.
I mean... Well, he could have taken the stairs.
He could have. My gut just says it's not him.
Famous Reagan gut? Please.
I know. But you saw the kid.
I mean, I kind of believed him when he said he didn't know any Betsy Vickers.
Well, Betsy met Lee Huntington at the hotel, and she did wind up dead, so...
Is that a coincidence?
Unless it wasn't Lee.
LINDA: Bless us, O Lord, for these gifts we are about to receive through your bountiful hands. Amen.
ALL: Amen.
And thank you for watching over Frank Reagan on that terrible day.
Pass the potatoes.
Grandpa, "please."
I'm sorry, Sean. Please pass the potatoes.
I would just like things to get back to normal, okay?
You given any more thought to that magazine article?
No.
What magazine article, Dad?
The mayor's trying to hitch his star to your father's wagon.
Hero by association.
Well, there is a good story there.
I lit a cigar and got sloppy... that's the story.
HENRY: Hey, Nicky.
Cat got your tongue? You haven't said a word since church.
Yeah, Nick, you doing okay?
'Cause I know it's a big deal.
What's a big deal?
Nothing.
No. Come on, what?
Yeah, what?
Can we please not talk about it?
Yeah. Why don't we just concentrate on our dinner, okay?
Can I please be excused?
I have to work on a report for school.
DANNY: Hey, Nick.
Look, I'm sorry I got out of the car, okay?
What did I miss?
What do you think you missed?
Oh, come on, Erin. How long are you going to stay mad at Danny? He said he was sorry.
Oh, I don't know.
Maybe until my daughter stops having nightmares.
She won't even talk to me about it.
Talk about what?
Shh. The adults are talking, okay?
She's withdrawn.
And I don't even know what's going on.
Well... you know, some of the moms with teens at school, they go online to see what their kids are thinking.
They do?
What did I just say to you?
I tried to friend her. She blocked me.
So use an alias.
Okay. Rights of privacy?
I'm-I'm an attorney for God's sakes.
Excuse me. What do you think...
What did you just say about a phony profile?
What? Alias?
Sean wants some milk.
What you working on?
I got to do this report.
I threw up the first time I saw a dead body.
You really looking at that screen, or are you hiding behind it?
I cried.
(sighs)
I wanted to be a cop so much, Grandpa.
But I don't think I can. I'm not strong enough.
You're strong enough. You're a Reagan.
(sighs)
You're growing up, Nicky. I'm not going to sugarcoat it.
I've cried.
But I learned pretty quick that you can't be a cop, especially a good cop, if you let your emotions take over.
So... you sit on them.
You push them way down.
I don't know whether that's a good thing, but it's a necessary thing.
I had a partner who always said, "Cops can't cry, so that their city can."
Do you pay a price?
I think so.
But it's the price you pay for the privilege.
You're 14 going on 40.
But you're still 14.
You got time.
But if that's what you decide you want, you're my granddaughter, you're strong enough.
You better give Sean his milk.
I made that up.
(refrigerator door opens and closes)
DANNY: Okay, so we're looking for an alias.
We got two profile pages supposedly belonging to the same kid.
One under Marshall Huntington.
The other one's under Lee Huntington.
Right, but he says he goes by both names.
Yeah, but if you look at the Marshall page, there's nothing connecting him to Betsy Vickers.
It's the Lee page that's got all the romancing stuff going on.
I mean, which name did he say his friends call him, again?
He said "Marshall"" Which makes sense.
I mean, the Marshall page is... sounds like a kid.
"BTW, homes, that video made me LMAO."
But now look at the Lee page.
Yeah. It says, "Sorry you had
"a bad day, my friend.
By the way, I love your profile picture."
Doesn't sound like a kid saying that stuff.
No. Especially not this kid.
Yeah, they used an alias.
Seems like there's two different people writing this.
Well, somebody was definitely seducing Betsy Vickers online, but I don't think it was Marshall Huntington.
We need to figure out who set up that Lee Huntington account on Social Gizmo.
Don't worry about it. We got wonder boy on the case.
He'll find something.
Hey. I can hear you in here.
Good. Then shut your mouth and keep working.
Uh, okay, I think I got it.
Ask you you shall receive.
What do you got for us, wonder boy.
The lead account was set up on a computer at the Huntington's.
Are you sure? Yeah. I triple checked.
The billing's going to Truscott Lee Huntington.
So what? So the dad kills Betsy and let's the son take the fall for it?
I believe that.
The way the guy was looking at me, he's a predator for sure.
All right. Well, what about this tutor... Howard?
I mean, he had access to the computer, too.
Well, he seems harmless to me.
Maybe. He's 30 years old, he's educated and what does he do for a living?
He spends all his time giving his knowledge to some spoiled Richie Rich kid.
If he's not happy at his job, you never know.
And he didn't have a wedding ring on.
So if you're single and you're unhappy at work, you're a suspect for m*rder?
Let's go take a look at the hotel registry again.
DANNY: Hey, Howard.
(door closing)
I want to thank you for coming down.
We don't want to waste too much of your time, but we need your help.
To be honest, we want you to kind of give us the scoop on the Huntingtons.
I signed a non-disclosure agreement.
Mr. Huntington could sue me.
Well, that's fine.
We'll just keep everything between us.
Do you think he did it?
DANNY: I don't know.
What's he like?
He's a bully.
He's boorish, rude.
He's awful to Marshall.
Calls him, "My moron son."
Well, the school says he gets straight "A's."
Because he father pays me to do his homework.
Oh.
That's got to be frustrating, hmm?
You do all the kid's homework, you do all the hard work and he just gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.
I feel bad for Marshall.
He'll never know how it feels to earn something.
He definitely doesn't know what it's like to romance a girl.
Not without his good looks and his father's money.
But you know how to romance a girl, don't you?
I mean the right way.
With words, poetry, stimulating conversation.
And that's why you set up the Lee Huntington profile page.
Isn't it?
Yeah. See, the words gave it away.
Wait, that wasn't me.
Sure it was.
I mean you all but said Marshall was a dumb brat.
What kind of dumb brat's going to go around quoting Lord Byron and Emily Dickinson?
I mean the poetry, the romance... it worked.
Betsy fell in love with you.
Well, she fell in love with Lee Huntington.
And she went to the hotel that night expecting to find some teenage poet.
But instead she found you.
No. I wasn't there.
Yes, you were.
You checked in under the name George Byron.
That's Lord Byron's real name.
Yeah, see, we did our homework and checked the hotel registry.
It was me she was in love with.
I thought she'd understand.
Understand what?
That her teenage dream boy turned out to be a 30-year-old pervert?
I don't think so.
She didn't love you, and that's why you k*lled her.
I didn't, I didn't.
Yes, you did.
Because you couldn't handle the rejection.
So why don't you just tell us what happened, Howard.
She got upset.
She called me a dirty old man.
She said she was going to call her parents.
I... I told her it was me she fell in love with... me and my words.
I tried to calm her down, but she fought me and then she started screaming and yelling at me.
So I... I didn't...
I just needed to make her stop.
So you choked the life out of her.
(sniffling)
I just wanted her to love me.
Nicky's very strong.
She's going to be fine, sweetheart.
I know. I just... I never expected her to have to deal with something like this on top of everything else that she's going through.
Well, she's lucky she has a very good mother looking out for her.
Nicky's got a lot of growing up to do.
Who knows where she's going to end up on this.
A cop.
Why not a doctor or a journalist or a lawyer?
What is so wrong with being a lawyer?
What kind of lawyer?
She's... It's going by so fast.
It does. Too fast.
Look, Erin, Danny feels terrible about this.
MAN: I'll be outside. Danny...
Miss Connors.
Commissioner.
Please sit.
Uh, this is my daughter Erin.
Hi.
Miss Connor is the mayor's new deputy press secretary.
Congratulations.
Thank you. Nice to meet you.
I didn't mean to disturb your breakfast.
Yet, here we are.
I just wanted to apologize for the other day.
There was no need to make it personal.
Well, it takes two.
And I do tend to dig in.
Nice meeting you.
You, too.
What was that about?
The mayor wants to make a hero out of me.
She's very attractive.
She insulted my DCPI and called me obdurate.
Obdurate.
Well... you can be obdurate.
Well, thank you.
Dad, do you think it's time that you start thinking about getting on with your life?
You've been talking to Grandpa.
No, I don't need to talk to Grandpa to know that you've been through a life-changing experience, and...
Let's see... life-changing.
You mean like going through a divorce?
You need to get on with your life.
I asked you first.
And what was the question again?
Do you think it's time you start thinking about moving on?
How do you know I haven't?
(both laughing)
Hey, Renzulli.
Hey, Nestor, my friend, how are you? What's up?
I'll tell you what's up.
That damn kid tagged my store again.
Oh, yeah?
So much for second chances.
Go on laugh.
Oh, come on, Renzulli, laugh.
Or maybe this time you won't think it's so funny.
(mechanical whirring)
(laughing) I told you that kid had talent.
Is that us?
I think it's us. Yeah.
I guess he saved the best for last, huh?
(Nestor laughing)
Fine. When you lost at trial, it'll be 25 to life.
Always a hard-ass, huh?
Runs in the family, doesn't it?
Yeah, pretty much.
Look, I wanted to come by and tell you that I know I screwed up.
And you've got every right to be mad.
Though I...
I wish you wouldn't be anymore.
Want to be friends again?
You're such a pain in the ass, you know.
Yeah, well, I'm a Reagan.