03x11 - The Illustrious Client

[bunniefuu]

Previously on Elementary...

(grunts)

You work for Sherlock.

I don't work for anyone. I'm his new partner.

The training I'm attempting to provide her is the same training I provided you.

It is, in part, an attempt to channel certain residual feelings that she has into a productive skill.

You think that Kitty needs help above and beyond my mentorship.

She's a r*pe victim. She was kept and tortured.

I got a nice little surprise. Stotz is leaving the force.

Glad to hear it all worked out.

What did you say to him?

Does it matter?

I'm folding my private detective business and I'm going to go work for Leda.

An insurance company.

Captain. A body just turned up-- I need you at the scene.

Her name is Melanie Vilkas.

24 years old.

And the reason I couldn't bring Kitty with me?

They're the same markings I saw in those files you gave me. The same ones that are on Kitty's back.

The man who hurt her is here in New York.

(elevator bell dings)

Wow. (chuckles)

Yeah, the view's not bad, right?

Not bad, no.

But, please, make yourself at home.

We want you to be as comfortable here at Leda as you were at your old job.

(phone buzzes)

I'll try, but how do you guys feel about pj's at the office?

Well, there's been talk of expanding casual Fridays.

Oh, Del, I cannot thank you enough for this opportunity.

Or this office-- it's incredible.

Well, it comes with a big job.

I-I don't want to scare you, but our in-house investigation unit's got a little complacent.

But I have a feeling you're gonna give 'em a great sh*t in the arm.

Well, I can't wait to get started.

(phone rings)

Well, at least we know the tech people got your company phone activated.

Actually, it's Sherlock. We talked about him during the interview process.

The ex-partner.

(phone rings)

Sorry, if I don't tell him to stop, he probably won't.

Um, Sherlock, now is not a great time to t...

(door unlocks)

Watson.

I thought today was the day. To start work.

Holmes: I asked her to be here.

For you.

The man who took you in London.

He's come here. To New York.

How do you...

How do you know?

Early this morning, the body of a woman named Melanie Vilkas was found on a pier in Gantry Plaza. She had been blindfolded with duct tape.

The flesh on her back was branded.

Every aspect of the att*ck on you had been replicated identically.

It's him.

He is serial after all.

How did it end?

Blunt force trauma. She d*ed from internal injuries.

He's never left a body before.

That you and I were able to discern, no.

We assumed that, in the event his crimes were recurrent, he took great care to dispose of his victims.

But it seems in this case, the body was meant to be found.

Sherlock and I have been talking.

We don't think it's a coincidence.

You think he's found me?

If he has, he's made a grave mistake. Watson and I intend to capitalize on it.

You and Watson? I know you've always seen yourself in pursuit, but that's turned around now.

He clearly has plans for you.

He has announced himself.

Captain Gregson's already assigned plainclothes details to the brownstone, but you don't have to stay.

Obviously, the decision is yours, but I am of the opinion you should not.

We have any number of safe houses at our disposal.

Alternatively, you could return to London and stay at Baker Street or with your family.

I'm not going anywhere. This is why I became a detective-- to hunt this man.

I'm ready.

Clearly, he feels prepared for the encounter as well.

When you and I looked for him in London, there was nothing.

The trail was cold, and it's not cold anymore.

There's nothing I wouldn't give to find him.

Nothing.

Gregson: A woman goes missing three days ago, and you've got one page of notes?

Is that how you guys do it at the 8th, Whitaker?

Melanie Vilkas' parents come in.

The first thing they tell me is how much they hate their daughter's fiancé.

This kid, Brandon Powell.

All right? She's been with him since high school.

Mom and Dad wanted her to take a little time, see what else was out there.

She doesn't return a couple of phone calls one day-- boom, they're down at the station filling out a missing person's report and pointing the finger.

To be honest, I thought she was taking a break from them.

Did you talk to the fiancé?

I got why Dad wasn't a fan.

But I never read “creep” from the guy.

Obviously, I got it wrong.

You think the fiancé did this.

She was left with all her jewelry, right?

Mm-mm.

Her engagement ring was missing. How do I know?

Dad complained about that, too.

It was the fiancé's grandmother's.

A family heirloom. Only there wasn't a diamond.

It was an emerald instead.

Mom and Dad must've finally gotten through to her.

She told Powell it was over, he k*lled her, took his ring back.

Respectfully, Detective, your indolence is not excused by the existence of a prospect force-fed by the victim's family.

You said they're consultants?

They're the investigators who are gonna be cleaning up after you.

We're taking over here.

I'll call your C.O. and make it official right now.

The fiancé doesn't even have a passport. He's innocent.

You know, not that it's any of my business now, but what the hell's the difference the kid doesn't have a passport?

Because I got these in London.

The man who did it had me locked in a room for three days before I got away.

That's who we're looking for.

That's who you spent the last three days not looking for.

Trust me when I say it... felt much longer to her.

(breathing heavily)

Aah! (coughs)

Quiet now.

I promise you it will get worse.

(crying)

♪ Elementary 3x11 ♪
The Illustrious Client
Original Air Date on January 122 2015

Look at the hair color, the bone structure.

Tell me you don't see a resemblance?

So the k*ller had a type.

Or perhaps he's just stuck on the one that got away.

All that he's done here-- from his choice of victim to her placement-- signals an intent to make this personal.

You must resist the urge to follow his lead.

Most of the facts that we have are from my case in London.

That detective from the other precinct hadn't got much further than how to spell Melanie Vilkas' name.

We have all manner of data from the victim's cell phone, thanks to her provider.

They're a thousand Dutch angle landscapes and texts with her roommate-- they're hardly a treasure trove.

I disagree.

The camera roll indicates that this photograph was taken just ten days ago.

So we have a recent photo. This is not a missing person's case.

It's her only self-portrait.

Taken one week before she disappeared.

Given the narcissism that consumes the modern epoch, a solitary selfie is a minor miracle.

Melanie Vilkas was a modest beauty.

So why, then, did she suddenly decide to turn her much-used camera on herself?

Perhaps she decided to finally heed her parents' advice.

What if, before rushing into marriage, she planned to see if there were indeed... other fish in the sea?

You think she needed a profile picture for a dating Web site.

Well, that's an easy enough theory to test.

Dating sites are as searchable as databases get.

They are also virtual menus for men like the one we seek.

I'm sorry she's dead, okay?

But I never even met this girl.

If you're gonna sit there and lie to us, Ron, we're gonna have a rough time here.

Your brief courtship of Melanie Vilkas on LoveMatchSet.com is well documented.

You came on strong, like Flaubert with an emoji addiction.

That was just... It was all online.

Yeah, we can read.

You two agreed to meet up at Park Slope at Mobius Tavern on Monday night.

You want to guess when she went missing?

Our colleague left a short while ago to show your photograph around the bar.

There was an ample selection of snapshots to choose from on your profile. We opted against Windsurfing Ron and went with Ron in Front of Big Ben instead.

Would you mind telling me what year that photograph was taken?

What? That was...

What do you think?

That was a while ago, it's been like... Even if this were five years ago, it'd be difficult for me to make a positive I.D..

Ron: Why?

Gregson: Because it just so happens...

But you know that. You were given my files this morning.

Gregson: He was there five years ago...

You were in a club. Someone slipped something in your drink.

I woke up and there was tape over my eyes, around my wrists.

I never actually saw.

He sounded American. That much I do remember.

As far as details that might actually help.

Hey.

You survived.

You got away.

What do you think when you see a girl like her?

I didn't do this.

Then I guess no one at Mobius Tavern is gonna remember seeing you the night Melanie disappeared?

They might remember my face. That I was there that night.

But I wasn't with her.

Explain.

When I walked in, I saw her from across the room... She wasn't as hot as she was in her picture, okay?

So I left.

She never even saw me.

I swear.

You're saying you stood her up.

I wish I hadn't.

Maybe none of this would have happened, but that is all I did wrong.

Can you account for your whereabouts after you left?

I met up with some guys from work.

We were out at a club till, like, 2:00, 2:30.

I'll give you their numbers.

They'll tell you I'm not the guy you're looking for.

I don't know. Maybe.

I mean, we were slammed.

We got music on Mondays, so this place was packed.

What about this girl?

Do you remember her?

Gin martini up, two olives. Yeah.

She was at the corner table while the band set up.

Was she with anyone?

No, it seemed like she was waiting for somebody.

She nursed that drink for, like, an hour.

Didn't help, though. She couldn't handle her liquor.

What do you mean?

I remember she tried to get up to go to the ladies', she could barely walk.

That sounds more like she was roofied.

I don't know.

Our clientele's pretty upscale.

Right. Because r*pe is only committed by poor people.

r*pe?

That woman you saw, Melanie Vilkas, she disappeared that night.

Her body was found earlier this morning.

And you think somebody here...

We're still putting together a time line-- it would help to look at security footage.

But I don't see any cameras anywhere.

Our owner wanted a celebrity clientele.

Somebody told him not to put them in.

Then I'd like to see your receipts for Monday night.

It'll help us figure out who was here.

Yeah, you can have whatever we got.

Including...

Hold on.

There was a phone.

One of the servers found it under that table at the end of the night.

We figured it might be hers.

Don't. Don't touch it. It's not hers.

It's a disposable, but it might be his.

(footsteps approaching)

Anything?

Appletinis are making a comeback.

I have run nearly 50 names of the tavern's male patrons and come back with exactly zero hits, not even a parking ticket.

The chance that your abductor paid with his Amex at the scene of his latest crime are virtually nil, but there is an applicable expression about leaving no stone left unturned.

One drink-- just like the bartender told Watson.

She texted, by the way.

She said it all went well at Leda and she will rejoin us shortly.

She's being stupid. Today was supposed to be her first day-- now she's taking a leave of absence.

She cares about your case.

As do I.

Perhaps we should... go to a meeting.

Mine or yours?

Yours.

That's a fine idea.

Not like there's a homicidal r*pist about.

Perhaps we could take in a show, too. This work is easily handed off to the department.

We have the phone that Watson found.

There's no reason they can't also study receipts.

I am concerned about you.

(phone ringing)

Detective.

Bell: Check your e-mail.

The burner Joan found at the bar was fresh.

Only had a few calls on it, all to other disposables, but we got good prints.

They belong to a pretty nasty ex-con.

Holmes: Simon de Merville. Lengthy record.

Solicitation and coke, mostly. Spent some time in Otisville.

We're reaching out to known associates right now.

Any luck, we'll turn up an address.

Keep us posted.

(pounding on door)

(pounding on door continues)

(gasps)

It's all right, ma'am. You're gonna be all right.

Clear!

This is Team Four.

We are clear upstairs, but we got another one.

(trembling breath)

Clear.

(indistinct radio transmission)

(siren wailing in distance)

Just... take them away.

(quietly): Son of a bitch.

Team Leader to Detective Bell, meet me on channel four.

Copy that...

It's him.

I'm holding the brand he used on Melanie Vilkas... and Kitty.

I got to say, this is not what I was expecting.

His old dealer told us he was running a brothel for the Albanians.

No, I know, it's just... this guy turns out girls for work and fun?

Wouldn't be the first twist with a day job.

Detective Bell. I'm more interested in why he isn't here.

His car's out front.

One of the girls told us he left an hour ago.

So, did one of the contacts we talked to tip him off, or did he just get lucky?

Man: I think we got two more upstairs.

I don't think he got lucky.

I think he was fleeing the scene of a m*rder.

(knocking)

Sonia, the nurses said you asked to speak to someone.

Yeah. You're police?

We work with the police.

Have you talked to the others?

No. They're still being treated.

Sonia: I want to know what is being done.

What about the man who did this to me? Simon.

We're looking for him. We're still trying to make sense of what happened at the house.

What do you mean?

This was not our choice. We did not want...

We know.

I meant, what Simon did and where he went.

(clears throat) Well, what, uh, happened at the house is, uh...

Simon, he gave orders, he watched us, and... and the other man-- he brought the girls to America.

He brought me here from Croatia.

His name is...

Kitty: Ervin.

At least it was. Ervin Bogdani.

He's a suspected sex trafficker.

He had ties with the Albanian mafia.

Had?

Watson: We found his body at the house-- we think Simon k*lled him.

Good.

That's good.

You said that Simon ran the house.

He said I was the most trouble.

There was this one man, he... he came back and asked for me a few times.

I thought he liked me, so...

I asked him to call the police.

Is that why you were locked in that room?

Simon said he was, uh, going to teach me... again, like when it started.

They, uh... they hit you and r*pe you.

And they make you take the dr*gs until you will, uh, meet the men. (clears throat)

Then they move you here and there.

And in the end, most girls don't fight anymore.

You know, it's your life.

I didn't want it anymore.

Sonia, this woman's name is Melanie.

Did you ever see her at the house?

No, but they... they tried to keep us to ourselves so we wouldn't help each other.

And sometimes new girls would come in, and... then they're gone-- they're sold to others for work (crying): or to one man who... wants one girl for themself. (sobs)

(sniffles) It's okay. It's over.

You're safe now.

(takes deep breath) Yeah.

You should rest, okay?

(exhales, sniffles)

(sighs)

Are you okay?

I've always had an understanding of what happened to me.

The man who took me was a predator.

I was his prey; it was simple.

I had no doubt in my mind that in the end...

I was gonna be...

But what if I was meant to end up like her, just... property, a plaything?

I went through three days of hell.

She's been... she's been living with it for years.

If I hadn't managed to get away from him...

There are differences between... you and Melanie and the others.

They were at-risk women from Eastern Europe, lured into prostitution, promised jobs and taken across borders.

You and Melanie were drugged at bars, blindfolded and branded.

Sonia doesn't have scars like yours.

Neither do any of the other women.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

I wasn't gonna be sold into sex sl*very.

I was going to be beaten to death and left on a pier.

I'm just trying to understand who this man is, why he's doing what he's doing.

It's like she said, he's a monster-- they don't need a why.

(phone rings)

(sighs)

We're just wrapping up here.

Our manhunt for Simon de Merville is about to graduate from APBs and news reports to a proper search.

The car that he stole has been found.

He stole a car?

While examining the crime scene, the circumstances of Ervin Bogdani's death became clear.

He came at De Merville with a Kn*fe.

De Merville overpowered him but not before being stabbed in his left arm.

I traced the blood trail to a house down the street.

There was broken auto glass at the curb.

The DMV was consulted, and a LoJack put to good use.

We now know that Simon de Merville left a purloined Hyundai Sonata at the corner of 40th and 8th Avenue.

That's right near Port Authority.

You think he took a bus out of town?

I do not. I think he was headed to Immaculate Heart Hospital in the same neighborhood.

If he needed to be stitched up, he had his pick of hospitals.

We're standing in one.

You might recall from his file that he has a sister, Violet.

The police could not reach her this morning, but she works at the pharmacy at Immaculate Heart.

The evidence suggests that De Merville is out of favor with his Albanian employers.

Perhaps they found out about his extracurricular activities and disapproved. In any event, turning to one of his cronies in his hour of need would be risky.

So he's turning to family instead.

The police are searching the hospital as we speak, if you and Kitty would like to join us.

Woman: I'm sorry you were too late to talk to Simon, but it's like I told the other eight cops-- I don't know anything.

Well, you might know more than you realize.

Let us be the judge. We're just...

We're not close.

I hadn't seen him for, like, a year, and then he shows up out of nowhere.

He was bloody, he was a mess.

He came to you for medical help.

He said he was in a bar fight, and he just didn't want to answer a lot of questions from the cops.

I couldn't just turn him away.

The cut wasn't bad. It-it was deep, but it didn't hit anything. So I taped him up and I told him to get out. That's it.

He say where he was going?

Violet: He didn't say anything.

Bell: And you didn't ask.

Kitty: You're quite pretty, you know.

You should see what Simon does to pretty girls, what his clients do.

Violet: I don't know what you're....

Kitty: You helped a m*rder*r today, a r*pist.

You're wrong. And until you find out what's really happening here, I hope you don't find him.

This is a mistake.

You may well be right.

I certainly hope so.

In any event, you've done all you can, and, uh, we thank you for your time.

She's lying.

Yes. Well aware. Thank you.

She absolutely knows what her brother does for a living, yet she agreed to help him anyway.

Her soul is a horror. Doesn't mean she should be arrested.

If we take her into custody for aiding and abetting, that would significantly decrease the chances of her leading us to her brother.

Isn't that right, Detective?

I'll call the captain, see about a tail and electronic surveillance for Ms. De Merville.

And what is it you did not want Marcus to know?

De Merville didn't come here for a Band-Aid.

He came here for Esephera.

May I remind you that we didn't both used to be doctors?

It's a blood medication.

Making it all the more appropriate that his own blood gave him away.

He left a trace of blood on the inside of the glass door of a locked refrigerator.

Only one drug is missing.

He could have robbed the pharmacy of OxyContin, Vicodin, any number of narcotics which could be converted into cash.

Indeed, he could have robbed them of actual cash.

So then why take...?

Esephera.

It's a treatment for PNH.

There are fewer than a thousand cases in the U.S.

Tiny blood clots form in the arteries if you don't take the medication. A year's supply runs north of half a million dollars, but I doubt the pharmacy kept more than a month or two on hand.

Simon didn't take any medication when he was in prison.

He does not have PNH.

One possibility is that he knows someone who does.

Another possibility, far more likely, is that his sister pointed him in the direction of another sufferer who is also a customer of the pharmacy.

That person might be willing to buy it at a discount.

Or... even provide De Merville with safe haven until the Albanians and the police call off their respective dogs.

There's just one problem: the department can't access pharmacy medical records. Patient privacy rights make it impossible to get a warrant.

Yeah, for a police detective this would be no lead at all.

But for an investigator in the employ of a global insurance company, however...

Del: You realize what you're looking for.

The Insurance Records Bureau may not even have it.

The IRB has medical data on everyone who's applied for or changed their health insurance in the last seven years.

200 million Americans, right?

Anyone with PNH is staring down the barrel of a $500,000 prescription bill every year.

Most of them will have shopped around for the best insurance.

So whoever Simon de Merville gave his Esephera to-- that person should be in the system.

Well, I'm glad you're so sure. 'Cause I thought you were asking me to defraud a powerful institution and commit a felony for a sh*t in the dark.

(sighs) I understand. It's a lot.

(scoffs) You know, even if I wanted to, I don't know how to request a list of patients who have a certain disease.

That's not what the IRB database is for. You know, we give them the name of someone who's applying for life insurance, they kick out a coded list of their medical history to help us arrive at a premium.

This is... Irregular.

No question. But at the end of the day, the IRB answers to its subscribers. Like Leda.

They don't just do whatever we ask.

You can tell them that Leda is researching new actuarial models, disguise what we're after by making a bigger request for data on all blood disorders. All we need is a list of patients in the New York area who are coded for PNH.

You've really thought this out.

I would not be asking for this if it wasn't for someone I consider family.

(meowing)

Come on, Pickles.

(knocking)

Hello again.

Did you find him? Did you find Simon?

No.

I came here to apologize.

For the things I said, losing my temper.

I can only imagine how difficult things have been for you.

If you're amenable, I'd like to ask you a few more questions.

I already told you...

Please?

It'll only take a moment.

(sighs)

I'll give you five minutes.

What are you doing?

There's an unmarked police car parked in front of your building.

I'd rather they not catch a glimpse of me through your windows.

I don't understand. Don't you work with them?

Not tonight.

(bees buzzing)

You startled me.

I tried you three times. I thought something happened.

I would've called the police if they weren't already guarding your front door.

I was immersing myself.

Well, I couldn't get Kitty either.

She was working at the station. She texted me to say she was en route to a meeting. Alone.

I was not consulted on her decision to venture out unchaperoned.

Well, maybe she didn't want to come home and see all this.

Can you imagine how she feels when she looks at it?

I have done. Repeatedly.

My name is Sherlock, and I have allowed empathetic thoughts to clutter my mind and reduce the clarity of my perception.

So you called in the bees to crowd out caring.

To no avail.

A grand unifying theory of Simon de Merville has yet to present itself.

Almost everything on his criminal CV can be chalked up to sadism and misogyny.

But Melanie Vilkas...

Was a message. Presumably to Kitty.

Was meant to be the beginning of something. Only he fell out with the Albanians before he could make his next move.

Well, that's a good thing, right?

It makes divining a pattern in his behavior considerably harder.

A fugitive is more difficult to anticipate than an obsessive.

Your new employer, did he agree to help us?

Actually, I spoke to him, (phone ringing) and he... (sighs)

Captain.

Hey. You're not gonna believe who just called to say they're coming to the station tomorrow morning.

Simon's the only family I've got left.

I know it's not an excuse. It's just...

I didn't know he hurt those girls.

But I wasn't surprised either.

He's always been... different.

Do you know where he is?

No, I swear.

He didn't tell me where he was going.

He told me his own people were trying to k*ll him.

You said he took something from the pharmacy, a medication?

Esephera.

It's an expensive drug, so we keep it locked up.

He had me open the case.

I was surprised he even knew what Esephera was, but he knew exactly what he was looking for.

He even knew how much we charged. It was strange.

But I thought it was for someone he knew.

Only you don't know who.

So that's it?

You're just here to clear your conscience?

Uh, I have a phone number for Simon.

He gave it to me at the pharmacy.

He told me to leave a message if I got my hands on more Esephera and he would call me back.

If you want, I was thinking I could try to get him t-to meet with me.

(phone ringing)

We're ready.

You can take it.

You got my message?

I told you, I check every hour.

What is it?

I just thought you'd want to know the police came and asked about you.

They knew you were at the hospital.

We figured that would happen.

Why did you call me?

You said if I could get more Esephera, I should...

Forget about that. What you gave me was enough.

I think I can get you a car.

If you want to get out of town.

My friend has one I can borrow.

I could leave it for you wherever you want.

No. My face is everywhere right now.

I got to ride this out.

(mechanical rumble)

Just tell me you're okay.

Are you someplace safe?

If I need anything, I'll call you.

Simon?

He turned it off again.

All I got was the tower.

We couldn't get a second or third ping.

It only gives us the radius.

Does your brother have any friends near Gerritsen Beach?

No.

There are probably 50,000 people in that circle.

But far fewer boats. And only two marinas.

Tell me, does your brother make the habit of talking on the phone whilst he's micturating?

What?

Play it back.

You'll hear the sound of a man urinating into a plastic bowl.

The garbled machine sound at the end is the flushing of an electric marine toilet.

Simon de Merville's on a boat.

Gregson: Play it back.

Just the end.

Tell me something good.

No sign of De Merville as of yet.

How's it going at the other marina?

He's not here. We're gonna go over this place with a comb and then head to you.

Remind your people to go slow.

Even identifying a place he used to be is something.

Yeah, I'll keep you posted.

(siren wailing in distance)

You should breathe.

You're sure that sound was a toilet flushing?

Those of us with exceptional sensitivities are prone to motion sickness.

I've spent a bit of time on boats.

And an electric marine toilet is something I know.

What I don't know is how Violet de Merville grew a conscience overnight.

She probably consulted a lawyer, realized how much trouble she'd have been in for helping him.

I sensed she was more eager to gain your approval.

How'd that meeting go last night?

Del just sent the list from the IRB, but there are no matches for anyone with PNH in this zip code.

Holmes: We know De Merville was on a boat.

We know he called from this vicinity.

If he's already sold the Esephera, perhaps he made enough to buy himself a vessel.

Or he used the cash to buy his way back into the good graces of his partners, or we've been wrong about what the bloody Esephera was for all along.

(phone ringing)

Yup.

He's not here.

Dock master's got a camera hidden over here.

No Simon de Merville, nobody, period, last three days.

Look, I'm, uh... I'm sorry, but we got to send our people back to their commands.

Hey?

You still there?

Don't.

Don't what?

Don't send them home.

In fact, tell them not to take off their gear.

Push the snapper, push the bass.

Serve ten of each tonight, we're having sh*ts on me.

Hey, guys.

We'll be open in ten minutes, you want to wait.

Oh, we're not here for a table, Mr. Osweiler.

We want to talk to you about your old neighbor in Queens.

Simon de Merville?

Yeah, sure.

All right, everybody, hit it.

I saw about Simon on the news.

Can't say I was surprised.

I mean, guy always gave me the creeps.

Strange, then, that he recently took up residence in your boat.

One that used to sit in the driveway you shared with his brothel.

Holmes: You moved to this area a couple of months ago, didn't you?

Your 27-foot Catalina came with you.

How do I know this, you ask?

Artificial turf.

What?

You left swatches of artificial turf behind when you walked out on your lease.

I barely registered them the other day.

And I just realized, artificial turf is used to pad trailers and protect the hulls of the boats that they carry.

Bell: Now, we searched two marinas for De Merville today.

Only, he isn't in a boat parked in the water, is he?

He's in a boat parked on land.
Your boat.

You obviously got to know him.

How else would he know about your son's blood condition?

Who told you about...?

When it occurred to us to look for a boat that used to sit outside his workplace, we encountered some of your old neighbors.

They miss little Ethan, wish him well.

Bell: Right now a warrant's being issued to search the boat at your new residence.

ESU's prepping a tactical approach.

They'll go in hard if they have to.

This is happening, and you don't want your family in the house when it does.

We want you to help us clear them out without tipping Simon off.

He just... showed up yesterday.

He's not a friend.

In fact, we moved to get away from that place.

He had the medication Ethan needs.

Enough to treat him for months.

All right, Mr. Osweiler-- your family-- is there a chance De Merville's with them, or isn't there?

The deal was, he stays on the boat, but I'll call my wife right now, I'll tell her whatever you think.

(phone ringing)

Well, hold on.

I was just about to call you, Captain.

Mr. Osweiler's agreed to call his wife for us.

Gregson: Well, he should get to it.

She's pretty upset.

You're already with her?

Local precinct got a 911 call from Mrs. Osweiler.

She was calling to report a fire.

Somebody torched the boat.

I don't understand. You're saying we missed De Merville again?

Actually, we don't think we did.

There was a body inside.

The door was nailed shut.

It's gonna take dental records to know for sure, but I think De Merville's Albanian friends caught up with him.

I think this whole thing is over.

You wished to see me?

Is Kitty with you?

No. She's gone to the, uh... to the morgue to await the M.E.'s report.

You can understand how eager she is to put an official end to this matter.

Eager is an understatement.

Close the door.

Something troubles you?

Tell me the truth.

Did you know about her visit to Violet de Merville's apartment?

After the fact.

Well, Ms. De Merville paid us another visit tonight.

Very different attitude this time around.

I thought she was just upset about her brother.

But there was more.

(sighs)

She claims that Kitty did this.

You believe her?

And so do you.

Captain, you were there when Ms. De Merville offered us her assistance.

Her invaluable... assistance.

Did she seem coerced at the time?

Kitty has a knack for bringing people around to her way of seeing things.

Trust me.

I looked the other way once before.

I shouldn't have.

I will talk to her.

I'm gonna have to suspend her association with the department.

Will you allow me to convey the news myself?

It's him-- Simon de Merville.

His dental records matched perfectly.

Well...

He's not the man who r*ped me.

What?

(sighs)

Look at the right hand.

It's perfectly intact.

The night you escaped, you said you broke some of his fingers.

My bindings slipped when he was moving me.

I knew I wouldn't get another chance, so, when he... reached for me, I wrenched his fingers back as hard as I could.

The way he screamed.

I'm not the only one who left that room with scars.

We ought to be looking at screws or a metal plate, or-or some kind of seam where the bones set.

Extensive damage to his flexor and extensor tendons, to his median nerve, would have felt, to you, like breaking bones.

It's not him.

You think I'm mad, don't you?

I think I know something of how you're feeling.

(sighs)

For me, for quite some time, the idea of a... of a sober existence-- it was my fuel and my purpose.

I dare say that it dominated my consciousness.

Then, I-I had to acknowledge one day that, for me, sobriety was a struggle, not a state of being.

A sense of closure would never come.

Accepting that moment was as difficult as arriving at it.

So it's denial, is it?

I want this man who hurt me to still be alive, to still be out there, hurting other people.

I won't pretend for a moment that there aren't questions that need answering, but every piece of evidence that we have can be reviewed, every assumption we'd ever made can be reexamined.

I will help you do that, but you should prepare yourself for the possibility that your uncertainty... is the only uncertainty that remains.

Someone hurt me, Sherlock.

You hurt yourself.

You don't know anything about how I am feeling.

(phone ringing)

Hello.

Hey, it's Del.

I tried you on the company phone, but it went straight to voice mail.

Hold on.

Oh, it's dead. I'm sorry.

I'm still trying to get used to this two-phone thing.

Today was sort of crazy.

I know. I-I'm watching the news.

The man you were looking for was k*lled.

I... I'm not sure if that's what you wanted, but, well, at least it's over, right?

Yeah, at least it's over.

Does this mean you're coming back to work?

Actually, I was hoping to take an extra day.

Just want to make sure my friend is okay.

Well, of course.

I-I can't thank you enough for-for all your help.

I didn't do anything.

Del.

Repeat after me, Joan.

“I didn't do anything.”

Okay, you didn't do anything.

I was already grateful for the opportunity, and now I'm indebted to you.

I'm gonna do great work for you.

Well, that was never in doubt. Have a good night, Joan.

I'll see you in two days.

Okay. Bye.

Kitty: Who was that? (gasps)

Kitty, what are you doing...?

Who was that?

My boss at Leda. Del Gruner. Why?

You said I could come here if I ever needed to.

You gave me a key.

Kitty, tell me what's going on.

Before we got De Merville on the phone the other day, I wondered... what it would be like to hear his voice again.

After five years, what it would do to me, if I would even recognize it.

And I didn't, but... it had been so long, so many years of just...

I think the most important thing for potential investors to understand is that fraud prevention (groaning) and fraud detection are both... improving rapidly, and insurance is a $4 trillion industry.

(crying)

I was wrong, Watson.

I didn't forget the voice.

I couldn't.

De Merville didn't hurt me.

He did.