04x15 - Up to Heaven and Down to Hell

[bunniefuu]

♪ ♪

Watson: Fascinating so far.

Holmes: It is.

I was being sarcastic. I'm aware.

How much longer is this gonna take?

Couple more hours should do it.

(clears throat) As I expected, the rats, maggots and other scavengers in this park have shown little interest in methamphetamine-tainted meat.

Which goes to support my belief that six years ago, in the m*rder of Jarrod Ochoa, a known meth addict, the medical examiner grossly miscalculated the time of death.

And we couldn't have done this closer to home?

In pursuit of the most accurate data, Watson.

Pork most closely resembles human flesh.

And Mr. Ochoa was found on this very spot.

You'd be surprised at the specificity of insects depending on where you are in this city.

You know, there's a species of ant which has been found to exist only within a ten-block stretch of the Upper West Side.

The ManhattAnt.

I did not make that up.

This lovely conversation notwithstanding, I'm starving.

(sighs) There's a restaurant not far from here that got good reviews-- I'm gonna get us some food.

Anything other than...

Pork. Yeah, I figured.

Mm. Say it again?

San Gimignano.

San...

Gimi... Gimignano.

Gimignano. Hmm. (laughs)

It's a little medieval town on a hill in Tuscany.

It has stone arches and towers, the whole deal.

Mm.

It's supposed to be the best gelato in the world.

You ever been there?

Mm-mm.

Good. We can go together.

♪ ♪

Something wrong?

I'm just tired.

All right. I'll get the check.

Watson: Captain Gregson!

Joan!

What are you doing here?

Uh, Sherlock and I are staking out a... a steak.

Well, it's kind of a long story, but I came to get us some food.

Oh. Well, th-th... um, this is Paige.

Paige, this is Joan.

Hi.

Hi.

She's, um, she's a doctor.

Oh, what kind of doctor?

A surgeon.

Uh, I helped the captain's friend out once.

Mm. Yeah.

Well, anyway, good seeing you.

Uh, it was nice to meet you.

Likewise.

(car horn honking)

Man: Hey!

What are you, blind?

I was backing in.

Sorry, man. I got here first.

Woman: Get out of the way! I was pulling in!

Hey, you better move this damn car before I move it for you!

Dude, you're gonna give yourself a heart att*ck.

(horns honking)

Man: Hey, move your ass!

And you should really get your car out of traffic.

All right.

You think this is funny?

(honking continues)

Woman: Come on, man, move it!

(screaming)

(body thuds)

(siren wailing in distance)

Woman: Oh, my God. Oh, my God, did you see that?

I'm calling 911.

She just... she just fell out of nowhere.

♪ Elementary 4x15 ♪
Up to Heaven and Down to Hell
Original Air Date on March 3, 2016

♪ ♪

(drawer opens)

Hawes: Don't know what you think you're gonna find over there.

It's not a mystery what happened to him.

The woman on this table fell on the guy on that table.

The absence of mystery does not mean there's nothing to learn.

How often does one get to examine the effects of one human body crushing another?

But if I'm interfering with your work...

Knock yourself out.

I think this belongs on your table.

The extensive pitting of the enamel and the wearing of the crown indicate it's from a person of advanced age.

And, of course, uh... her lipstick.

This one's Rosalyn Graham, 76.

That's Jason Leary, 28.

The report's over here, if you want to take a look.

It said on the news that she fell from her tenth floor balcony.

su1c1de, is it?

Cops thought either that or an accident.

She'd been showing signs of dementia, so it's possible she got confused and fell.

I won't have an opinion of my own till after the autopsy.

Her neighbors report seeing her wandering on numerous occasions, lost in her own building.

Also found an ottoman placed against the railing of her balcony as if she'd used it to climb.

I doubt this woman's moved anything heavier than a teacup in years.

Judging from the degenerative damage to the hands and feet, I'd say she had... severe arthritis, wouldn't you?

I'd need a medical history to be sure, but, uh...

Yeah, looks that way.

I think she'd have a hard time opening a refrigerator door, let alone moving that ottoman onto her balcony.

You think someone else put it there?

I think you should just, you know... delay your report until I've had a look at the scene.

(sighs) You know... if she was m*rder*d, then Mr. Leary becomes a homicide, too.

And to think, a moment ago you were calling this case boring.

I think Mrs. Graham might not just be a m*rder victim, she might be a m*rder w*apon as well.

(knocking)

Someone call for a doctor?

(sighs)

Close the door, will you?

Um, about last night...

It's okay, you don't have to explain.

It's none of my business.

Sit down.

(sighs): Me... and Paige.

We go back a ways.

We started seeing each other about a year ago, but she wanted to keep it quiet for my sake.

What do you mean?

She used to be a detective in the 7-4.

One night about ten years ago, her team searched the home of a known drug dealer.

Some of the cash they recovered never made it back to the precinct.

Oh.

She went with the flow. She took her cut.

And not to make excuses, but, uh... at the time, she felt like she didn't have any choice.

They all got caught.

She cooperated-- she was never charged-- but as part of the deal, she put in her papers.

And she thinks if other cops knew about your relationship, it would reflect poorly on you.

So... when I called you "Doctor" last night...

You were trying to hide the fact that we work together.

Yeah.

Honestly, uh, I thought she was over this months ago, the hang-ups, the worries, and... all of a sudden, out of the blue, couple of months ago, it became this... thing again.

She could tell something was up.

So when I told her who you really were...

She broke up with you?

For my "own good."

Wow. That's terrible.

It was nice.

Having someone again.

(lock clicks)

The super said Mrs. Graham owns the building.

Rest of the units are rentals.

So she had three adult children.

They're being notified.

Husband's dead, though; she lived alone.

(sniffing)

Not entirely alone.

(sniffing)

Oh. Shih Tzu, if I'm not mistaken.

There was a dog.

Says here somebody picked it up.

Maybe one of her kids?

Hmm.

The dog was well cared for, based on the lavender-scented shampoo.

Interesting that a woman with dementia could care so attentively for a pet.

(exhales) Why do old people always have that smell?

Uh, it's a buildup of a compound called 2-nonenal in their sweat.

Which is also responsible for the cardboard taste of stale beer.

I found her arthritis meds.

My mom's on the same stuff. It's strong.

I'd say you're probably right about Mrs. Graham not moving that ottoman.

Well, whoever did move it did so quite recently.

It rained yesterday morning; it shows no sign of exposure to the elements.

Hmm.

Pretty sure these tablets should be pink.

These are yellow.

Switching an addled woman's medication would be an ideal way to incapacitate her, making it much easier to hurl her from a balcony.

Which makes the next question, who else was up here?

Building doesn't have cameras, and the tenants say they didn't see anyone.

Well, lucky for us, then, that whoever moved it might have left us a sample of their DNA.

I'll get CSU up here.

(footsteps approaching)

Hey, I got your text.

So we're looking for someone who threw an old lady off a balcony?

Blood on the underside of the ottoman has been submitted for DNA analysis.

It could be a while before we have those results.

Marcus and I were, however, able to identify the mysterious pills found in place of Mrs. Graham's arthritis medicine.

Clonazepam.

That's used to treat seizures and anxiety disorders. That's pretty heavy stuff to be taking by mistake.

Would you say its misuse could cause someone to appear confused, disoriented, forgetful?

Absolutely.

And might those symptoms be mistaken for dementia?

You think that's what the k*ller wanted.

Mrs. Graham had no prior history of either senility or depression.

Inducing signs of dementia in recent weeks could have set the stage for the tale we were all meant to believe-- that in her confused state, she wandered off her balcony to her tragic end.

So you think it was someone who had access to her meds.

Plus, you said she had money.

Did she have children?

Three. Her 50-year-old son Alan, a physician, is the only one who lives locally.

He's also proven difficult to reach. He's not at home or his office. Not answering any of his phones.

You're welcome to sit in on the interrogation when the police find him. Unless, of course, you prefer to continue cyberstalking the captain's paramour.

You witnessed their secret tryst last night, he invited you to the precinct to discuss, and now you're reading up on a defrocked female cop.

When the captain confided in you this morning, did he ask you to pry into the affairs of once-Detective Cowan?

I'm not prying.

Obviously.

She didn't want anyone to know about their relationship.

I bumped into them, she broke up with him.

That's unfortunate, but it's hardly your fault.

I know. I thought I would reach out to her, let her know I can keep a secret.

(phone dings)

The newly-orphaned Dr. Graham has turned himself in voluntarily.

In the company of an attorney.

Man: This has all gotten horribly out of hand.

Yes, I replaced my mother's arthritis medication, but I never meant for her to die.

So you thought she would just float to the sidewalk?

What? No.

What are you talking about?

We know she didn't go over that balcony on her own.

She had help.

Are you saying that...

She was my mother.

Dr. Graham, we were under the impression you were here to confess.

To switching her meds.

I just wanted her to seem out of it.

I did-didn't k*ll her.

Lawyer: We were under the impression you thought she fell.

Oh, my God. I was thinking this was all my fault.

Are you telling me she was m*rder*d?

You said you wanted your mother to appear disoriented. Why?

(sighs)

A few months ago she rewrote the will.

She told us at Thanksgiving she was cutting us out, said we were a bunch of spoiled ingrates who cared more about her money than about her.

So far, I'm inclined to agree.

I visited her every week. I brought her her groceries, made sure she was all right. I earned my share of that money.

Watson: And you thought if she showed signs of dementia, you could have her ruled incompetent and have the will thrown out.

That's why you gave her the Clonazepam.

The hearing was gonna be in a few weeks.

Gregson: I don't say this very often, but your lawyer should tell you to talk less.

You just copped to a motive.

Actually, from where I'm sitting, he just proved he didn't have a motive.

Holmes: Because if she dies prior to the competency hearing, the present will stands and he and his siblings won't see a penny unless they successfully contest it.

So who benefits most from the will now?

Maybe we should be talking to them.

Mom left the entire estate in trust to Eustacia Vye.

You can try talking to her, but you won't get much back.

Eustacia Vye?

That a friend of hers?

Holmes: Her best friend.

As in "man's best friend."

Eustacia Vye is Ms. Graham's prize-winning Shih Tzu.

We can rule her out as the k*ller.

Rosalyn was a tough old broad.

You know, a lot of guys at the firm didn't like her, but I did.

We understood each other.

I know it's morbid, but the first thing I thought when I found out she d*ed was, "Well, she always said she'd leave that place feet first."

Did she?

I'm sorry, what do you mean?

When you dropped her, which way was she pointing?

Um, wait a minute, I-I thought she fell.

I'm sorry, are you saying you think someone k*lled her?

You think that I--?

Bell: You were her lawyer.

When she rewrote her will, she named you as trustee of her estate.

That means you're in control of her assets including her building--

Holmes: Where, according to her explicit instructions, you are now to reside with Eustacia Vye, ensuring she lives out the remainder of her days in the surroundings and lifestyle to which she's accustomed.

You must be looking forward to moving day.

It's not often the dog house is a step up.

(scoffs) Wow, do you have it wrong.

Really? You were just telling us what kindred spirits you were.

Maybe you sweet-talked her into changing her will.

We were "kindred spirits" because she was a hard ass.

No one ever sweet-talked that woman into anything.

No, she changed her will to give her kids the finger.

I tried to talk her out of it.

If she was so obstinate, why bother?

Those were her wishes.

You were her lawyer.

Why argue against them?

Because I've seen the way these things go.

When Leona Helmsley d*ed, she left $12 million to her dog.

You think her heirs didn't fight that?

It took years to sort out.

Ate up half the estate in legal bills.

And the same thing's gonna happen here.

Her kids have already put a freeze on her accounts.

Look.

I didn't go to law school to run a doggy daycare.

Okay? (chuckles)

I'm not staying in New York much longer anyway.

I just accepted an offer from a firm in Chicago a few weeks ago.

Feel free to confirm that with my bosses.

Some other associate can live with Miss Eustacia.

Unless... either of you wants it?

(bell dings)

Hi.

Oh.

It's Joan, right?

Yeah.

Uh, the captain didn't send me, in case you were wondering.

He told you we had it out.

He told me that you were worried that you were gonna hurt his career.

That's right.

Look, you made a mistake ten years ago, and you paid for it.

You really don't think other cops are gonna see it the same way he does?

You consult for him, right?

I'm not a cop, if that's what you're asking.

Well, uh, y-you know, you coming here, it's very sweet, but you're talking about something you don't understand.

Then please explain it to me.

I've worked for the captain for a long time.

He stuck his neck out for me and my partner more times than I can count.

If he says he can take the heat for you, he will.

I'm surprised you don't know that about him already.

Unless there's some other reason you're calling it quits.

I'd like you to leave now.

He's one of the best guys that I know.

Whatever it is, you should tell him the truth.

Nice place.

Making an offer?

No need.

It's already in the family.

One of Father's investment properties.

I can just imagine him standing here going, "Need it, need it, got it, got it, need it."

Want to tell me what we're doing here? and what it has to do with a lovechild of a toilet and a corkscrew.

Hmm.

We're due at an appointment quite soon, and I thought biding my time up here would help put me in the mind of Rosalyn Graham's k*ller.

Okay.

I have a new theory of motive.

Visited the law firm of Rosalyn Graham's attorney.

They confirmed everything he told Marcus and me.

In the short term, at least, no one can profit from her estate.

It will be embroiled in a legal quagmire for years.

Included in that quagmire is a deal she was about to make involving an old friend of ours, William Hull.

The real estate mogul?

Yes. That... is Rosalyn's building there.

And this is Hull's latest monstrosity.

Scheduled for construction at the end of her block.

So, Rosalyn was gonna sell Hull her building?

Not the building.

The air above it.

Every building in the city comes with a finite amount of air rights, limiting the space that one can build up, hmm?

It's to stop the city growing out of control.

Overcrowding the streets.

Public services.

But a developer can buy another building's air rights.

So long as that owner promises never to use them.

So Hull needed Rosalyn's air rights.

Not just hers-- those of every other building on the block.

You acquire this one, this one, this one.

Pretty soon, huh, got yourself a skyscraper.

Only now that Rosalyn's estate is tied up, Hull can't acquire her rights.

And since the law requires that air rights only be sold across adjacent lots, the loss of her rights means he'll never be able to get the rest of the block's.

So his project is essentially a nonstarter.

Dead before they even break ground.

You think whoever k*lled Rosalyn did it to stop Hull's project from moving forward.

I'd like to ask Mr. Hull about his thoughts on the matter, who's behind it.

Great, well, you let me know as soon as you know.

Yeah.

Mr. Hull?

Don't tell me. I'm excellent with faces.

The detectives.

Sherlock Holmes, Joan Watson.

You did some work for me on a casino deal.

Not how we'd characterize it.

We know you're having a tough day with Rosalyn Graham's m*rder.

We just wanted a few minutes of your time.

I remember now.

You as much as accused me of being a k*ller.

Today I don't have time.

You misunderstand.

We believe that Rosalyn Graham was m*rder*d specifically to hinder your project.

So as much as it pains me to say it, we're on the same side.

Your design, is it?

It is.

Straight lines hurt you as a child?

Everyone's a critic.

Reception's been harsh, has it?

Polarizing.

People love it or hate it.

But, uh, it's got them talking.

No one k*lled anyone over this design.

You have a particular enemy in mind?

Off the top of my head?

Other developers that wanted the lot.

A steel company I didn't hire once.

Any of my ex-wives.

Watson: So, what is your next step? Is the building definitely dead?

That's what today's meeting was to discuss.

Maybe we can get the rights another way.

Maybe we can find an alternative site.

Maybe I cut a deal with the city to give me the rights if I offer to build an opera house uptown.

The project is that important to you, is it?

What are you leaving behind, Mr. Holmes?

I build the future.

Long after we're gone, people will look around out there, and they'll see me.

And this one... this one is a legacy-maker.

For Busquet and for me.

There's a note here that says a copy of this letter was sent to building security. Can I ask why?

It's from an organization called Save the West Side.

We had an incident outside on the street.

Save the West Side was protesting, and their leader hit one of my employees with a picket sign.

Charges weren't pressed, but after that, we just sent everything we ever got from them to security.

"Your building is a modernist nightmare."

Mmm. "A blight that must be stopped at all costs."

You didn't think threats from a violent protestor merited mention?

Honestly, I forgot about it.

Run-ins with neighborhood groups always come up during a project like this.

They just don't want another Starbucks on their corner.

So you say the incident involved the man that wrote this letter?

The group's leader, Derek O'Neal.

According to Mr. O'Neal's address here, your building would have completely obstructed his Central Park view.

You're the real estate expert.

How much would the loss of his view affect the value of his property?

A million dollars?

That might've meant more to him than a new Starbucks.

Hello. Excuse me.

Uh, we're looking for Save the West Side. This is the right place, yes?

Not anymore. We're done.

You want to look at the space, talk to the building manager.

Fourth floor.

Rosalyn's death sticks a fork in Hull's building, and these guys call it a day?

Either news travels fast or, uh, we're on the right track.

Woman: Can I help you with something?

Watson: We're not here for the space.

We're consultants with the NYPD.

What makes you think that William Hull is pulling the plug on his development?

What did you say?

Holmes: Well, no announcement's been made in the news yet, and here you are, closing your doors.

We're-we're just curious how you found out.

Hull's not putting up the building?

It's not looking good.

Are you telling us that you didn't know?

No.

Are you saying that we won?

Could you tell us where we could find Derek O'Neal?

He's the head of the group, right?

You say you're with the police?

You don't know?

Derek is the reason we're shutting down.

He was this group.

The rest of us didn't have the heart to go on.

There was a break-in here last Friday night.

He was stabbed to death.

Right over there.

Well, now, we're sorry for the intrusion.

Condolences on your loss.

If that's Derek O'Neal's blood, there's no way he could have k*lled Rosalyn Graham.

Because somebody k*lled him five days ago.

Bell: Derek O'Neal was out with friends when he realized He left his phone at the office. He went back.

Members of his group found him the next morning, s*ab wound to the chest, few thousand dollars worth of computers gone, so detectives who caught it thought it was a robbery gone wrong.

We think it was less random than that.

CSU found a size-11 shoe print on the office carpet.

Didn't belong to anyone in the group.

Police were not able to identify the tread.

But I was.

Watson: The shape of the heal is unique to Luzzattos, an Italian dress shoe that retails for $500.

So unless the thief robbed an investment banker on his way to k*ll O'Neal...

You think his m*rder had something to do with Hull's building?

O'Neal was the project's most vocal opponent.

Between the timing and the shoe, seems an unlikely coincidence.

Do we think there's any connection between his m*rder and Rosalyn Graham's?

They both had ties to the building that was supposed to go up.

But on the surface, the murders have opposing motives.

Rosalyn's m*rder will in all likelihood doom the project, which is exactly what O'Neal wanted.

A single theory to explain both homicides has yet to present itself.

Bell: Could be we're looking at two K*llers.

Some kind of turf w*r.

Hull's side kills an activist, so the activists k*ll his building.

Throwing Mrs. Graham from her balcony seems too circuitous a route for revenge.

Then keep it simple.

O'Neal was trying to stop William Hull's building.

Anyone check Hull's shoe size?

Bell: No, but I will.

I was gonna take some guys up to his office, interview his team.

Watson and I will keep our focus on Rosalyn's m*rder.

As evidenced by the hate mail we took from Busquet's office, the building had no shortage of detractors.

We can also check the city council minutes, public records, see if anyone else spoke out against it.

Well, let me know what you find.

So when you said that "we" would look through all this stuff from the city, what you really meant... was me.

I was just speaking with a friend who's an engineer at the Department of Buildings.

He said they might be aware of additional complaints against Hull's would-be building.

Because what we need is more paperwork to look through.

Oh, did you know that in a building without fire sprinklers, the maximum travel distance to stairwells needs to be 150 feet, but in a building with sprinklers, it can be 200?

Well, it seems rude to make evacuees run an additional 50 feet whilst also getting wet, but I assume that's not your point.

My point is I'm gonna tear my hair out.

It's a capital mistake to theorize before one has data.

You know that.

Speaking of data, what did you learn when you went to visit the captain's lover yesterday?

Not a damn thing.

Told you you should leave it alone.

She did not break up with him 'cause she was concerned about tarnishing his reputation.

There's something more.

I thought you said there wasn't any additional data.

There isn't, but I could just tell there was something more.

Have you shared those insights with the captain?

I wouldn't even know what to say to him.

"She lied about why she broke up with you."

How's it gonna help him?

This is weird.

Derek O'Neal spoke at a city council meeting a few months ago.

He brought up problems in an environmental study that Hull's team did on that site.

So?

So how did they get that study?

It was internal.

Stuff like that doesn't get submitted to the city until much later; trust me, I've read a lot about how buildings get approved in the last hour.

Um...

I remember reading an interview.

Yes, this is from an interview he gave. Right here.

He quotes an e-mail from Hull saying that he didn't care about a park they would have to bulldoze.

You think there was a mole inside Hull's organization who was secretly feeding information to O'Neal?

It would explain why the k*ller stole the computers from O'Neal's office.

O'Neal got his hands on incriminating evidence, and the k*ller had to get it back.

Watson: Several people at "Save the West Side" said they saw Derek meet up with someone they didn't know.

The description was enough to I.D. the person.

He worked as a filing clerk here until you fired him last week.

His name is Austin Reem.

Bell: Mr. Reem admitted to us he'd been selling inside information to Derek O'Neal.

He said you personally caught him copying files after hours one night.

Your lawyers threatened him, forced him to reveal O'Neal's name and sign a gag order.

Then they had him clear out his desk.

That was Thursday, one day before O'Neal was k*lled.

This is ridiculous.

You think I k*lled this guy O'Neal over a few files?

They would have become public record anyway in a matter of weeks.

Yes, I fired Reem.

I found a spy in my office, and I plugged a leak.

How is any of that motive for m*rder?

Holmes: Well, it depends what was in the files.

Perhaps it contained evidence that you bribed a public official.

Perhaps you were cutting corners on safety codes.

Bell: We don't think O'Neal knew what he had, or he would have used it against you.

Whatever it was, we're guessing you couldn't just leave it out in the world.

The information in those files, it was nuisance stuff.

Do we skate the legal edge now and then?

Of course we do, everyone does.

It's the only way to get things done.

But there was nothing in there that broke the law and certainly nothing even remotely worth k*lling over.

Then I'm sure you won't mind, uh, sharing those leaked files with us.

Mr. Reem provided a list, if that helps.

No.

Those files contain proprietary and confidential information.

The studies this firm does, my designs, whether you like them or not, they're what we make here, and they have monetary value.

You want those, come back with a warrant.

Getting a warrant won't be easy.

Right now, all we know is that some computers were stolen that may have some of his files.

That's pretty thin.

We know one more thing than that.

We know that at some point at least, he owned a pair of size-11 Luzzattos.

He might have got rid of them already, but, uh, his credit card statements might help.

(cell phone chimes)

I'll take this to the captain, see what he thinks.

My friend at the Department of Buildings has important information to share.

(elevator bell dings)

Well, you go ahead.

I've heard enough about zoning laws to last a lifetime.

(tapping on window)

What are you doing here?

Way to make a girl feel welcome.

I'm sorry, but this is literally the last place I thought I'd see you.

Do you want, uh... do you want some water or coffee?

I'm fine.

Um...

The other night, I wasn't being honest with you.

I told you I thought my past could hurt you, but there's more to it than that, and you deserve to hear it.

Am I about to get the "It's not you, it's me" speech?

It is me.

Your friend Joan stopped by the shop, and... she knew I was hiding something.

What are you talking about?

I have MS.

I was diagnosed two months ago, and I didn't know how to tell you, so...

I haven't been worried about what I'll do to your career.

I've been worried about what I'll do to the rest of your life.

Paige.

It's very early.

But so are we.

Eventually, this disease is gonna get ugly.

And I was using the job as an excuse because... you're a good man.

And you don't deserve to be stuck with what's coming.

So... that's it.

I don't get a say in this?

No.

Good-bye, Tommy.

Holmes: Watson?!

What's all this?

Illumination, Watson.

It is if you put it in the fireplace.

These materials represent a fundamental shift in our perception of the case.

So you got all this from your friend at the Department of Buildings?

Some of it.

His important news was that William Hull put out a press release earlier today.

The magnate has got his wish.

They found a way to move forward with the project.

How? They settled the air rights problem?

No. They went around it.

Or, more accurately, under it.

This is the image which accompanied today's announcement.

It's shorter.

23 stories shorter.

The original is 63, this one is 40.

So they used the air rights they could get to build a shorter building, and they already have completed plans?

That seems fast.

Wait. These are not plans for the new building.

These are plans for the building Busquet's office is in.

It's too early to have details on the new design.

The decision is literally hours old.

These, however, were on file with the city, and my contact graciously supplied them.

These are the files that were leaked to Derek O'Neal's office.

So you got the plans to Busquet's building, and used them to break into his office so that you could resteal the plans to Hull's building that were leaked.

Succinctly put.

You know you can't use any of this as evidence.

I know, but if I'm right, I won't have to.

Because?

Theory of the crimes has been wrong all along.

We've been thinking that Derek O'Neal was k*lled to protect the building and that Rosalyn Graham was k*lled to block it.

I now believe that both murders were the work of the same k*ller, who intended to shrink it.

(elevator bell dings)

I was told the captain of Major Crimes needed to see me.

Yes, he's gonna join us in a little while, but for now, we wanted to keep things informal.

Do I need an attorney present?

Are you a criminal?

You're hard to read.

You'd make a good negotiator.

You've got five minutes.

You remember the Mars Orbital mishap of 1999?

Where the satellite b*rned up upon contact with the Martian atmosphere?

Am I somehow responsible for that?

All caused by a small mathematical error.

One computer was using American units, the rest were using metric.

Watson: The point is, small miscalculations can have big consequences.

In this case, two murders.

Three, if you count Jason Leary, the man that Rosalyn Graham fell on.

An acquaintance of ours looked over the plans for your building.

He found that your architect, Mr. Busquet-- or, perhaps, someone in his team-- made an error in their wind calculations.

In short, at 63 stories, the building would've been structurally unsound.

Anything stronger than a stiff breeze, and it would've come tumbling down.

And you're saying that you think Busquet knew about this?

Watson: We think he discovered the mistake, but by then, things were too far along to pull the plug.

And you yourself called this building a "legacy maker."

Busquet's been heaped with praise, from which he's already lined up several more high-profile jobs: Dubai, Tokyo, Sydney.

Watson: All of those would've gone away if he'd come clean.

So, instead, he found a way to make sure the building could only be 40 stories without reflecting poorly on him.

So he k*lled Rosalyn Graham to tie up her estate-- and air rights-- in legal battles.

Derek O'Neal's m*rder was likely not planned.

The evidence suggests that Busquet broke into the offices of Save the West Side to retrieve the leaked documents, lest his error be discovered one day.

O'Neal walked in on that, sealing his fate.

I swear, I had no idea.

Holmes: Yeah, well, your reputation for litigation precedes you.

Had Busquet ever told you about his cock-up, you'd have sued him blind.

So then why I am I here?

Why not just arrest Busquet?

Because we need your help.

Watson: The police have a sample of what we think is the k*ller's blood.

With a warrant, we can compel Busquet to provide a DNA sample.

The problem is, everything we just told you was from us seeing a report that was not acquired in a way that would stand up in court.

That's why our captain isn't in the room yet.

Holmes: Now, from here, things can proceed in two ways.

We could find another way to arrest Busquet.

And, I mean, you know us well enough by now.

We'd eventually be able to do that.

But in that scenario, who knows how the court of public opinion is going to judge you?

I mean, we don't think you're involved.

Press might see it differently.

And in the other scenario?

You "give" us all the materials you see here before you, which, as the property developer, you rightfully own.

Then we invite the captain in, the police get their search warrant and then they arrest Busquet as the k*ller.

Your building is gonna be 40 stories either way.

This way, you'll be the hero.

Holmes: I understand you're considering running for office.

So which scenario do you think's better?

Hi.

Got my message.

Yeah.

I'm guessing it's not a coincidence you asked to meet at a place across from Paige's shop.

She told you that I went to see her.

Look...

No, no, no, no, no, no. This isn't...

I'm not mad about that.

It has nothing to do with that.

Sit down.

♪ Let 'em turn into a river ♪
♪ And carry you away... ♪

She's out getting her lunch, but when she gets back, I'm gonna talk to her.

But I wanted to talk to you first.

♪ Brother, don't be afraid... ♪

Okay.

She has MS.

That's why she was pushing me away.

She wanted to... spare me.

You know?

It's early now, but, you know.

I've been reading up, mostly on the Internet, about the timeline, uh, you know, when things happen, how bad it gets, uh...

It gets bad.

♪ Let the silver voices guide you... ♪

My first thought-- and I mean my first thought-- is "I don't care.

I love her; I want to be with her."

But then...

♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh... ♪

You know, I realize with something like this, you know...

This isn't like that.

Doesn't count unless you go in with your eyes wide open.

So I wanted to talk through it first, you know?

With a... doctor. (chuckles)

And a friend.

See if there's, uh, anything this stuff isn't telling me.

Well, I doubt there's anything I can tell you that you haven't already read.

♪ Till you reach the other side... ♪

MS. is... cruel.

(exhales)

The progression is gonna be tough on her and you.

It could take years... or months.

And once the disease really takes hold, she's gonna need a lot of help.

Well... she's worth it.

♪ Don't close your eyes... ♪

The one thing the literature probably doesn't mention is that you're not gonna go through it alone.

Your friends are gonna be there for you.

♪ I'm here in the fire... ♪

Mmm.

♪ Like a match to the sky... ♪

Gregson: Oh. She's back early.

♪ Lightin' up the night for you... ♪

Oh...

Well, wish me luck.

♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh... ♪

All of it.

♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh ♪
♪ I'll see you on the other side ♪
♪ Ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh ooh ♪
♪ I'll see you on the other side ♪
♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh ooh ♪
♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh ♪
♪ I'll see you on the other side ♪
♪ Ooh ooh ooh-ooh ooh ooh ooh ♪
♪ I'll see you on the other side... ♪