04x16 - Hounded

Episode transcripts for the 2012 TV show "Elementary". Aired September 2012 - August 2019.*
Watch/Buy Amazon


"Elementary" is a modern take on the cases of Sherlock Holmes, with the detective now living in New York City.
Post Reply

04x16 - Hounded

Post by bunniefuu »

Subject is a 54-year-old Caucasian male, moderately overweight.

The hair on the left side of the head is matted with blood, but there are no apparent external wounds.

Because he was stabbed through the ear.

Ice pick?

Stiletto Kn*fe.

The assailant was right-handed, shorter than the victim, probably a woman.

The victim knew her or was at least comfortable enough with her to let his guard down.

You here for a reason or just to show off?

I'm here about the Gupta case.

Watson and I believe we've identified the individual who m*rder*d him.

Trouble is, the DNA evidence doesn't match our suspect.

Or anyone else in Mr. Gupta's life.

There's no way anyone but the k*ller left that sample.

I agree. It's the only thing that makes sense.

So I did a little digging and I found the DNA's source.

Great.

Who was it?

You.

You are the k*ller, according to the evidence.

Got a sample of your DNA from a discarded water bottle.

An outside lab compared that to the test results from the sample found on the body.

Perfect match.

I contaminated the sample with my own DNA.

Obviously it was a mistake.

These things happen from time to time.

Never on my watch.

Can you still close the case?

We have enough evidence to put the true culprit away for life.

But the contaminated DNA test will complicate things for the prosecutor.

They're gonna want me to testify, explain what happened.

(sighs)

Thanks for letting me know.

You still on for chess this Thursday?

Been brushing up on my Dvoretsky.

You're gonna have your hands full.

Looking forward to it.

(panting)

(animal growling)

(animal growling)

(animal growling)

(grunts)

(tires screech)

Mister, you okay?!

Oh, no, no, no, no.

Mister.

♪ Elementary 4x16 ♪
Hounded
Original Air Date on March 10, 2016

Watson: Nice place.

Holmes: It's a grotesquery.

It's an edifice to its owner's wealth.

It's a brag made of brick, stone and drywall.

My late father built it.

After he plowed over two farms and a school.

He named it Baskerville Hall.

Small wonder that your father and mine were friends.

Sherlock Holmes.

Henry.

And you must be Miss Watson.

Yes. Hi.

He sends his condolences, my father.

I appreciate that.

You said that you had some concerns over your brother's death.

I read about what happened.

According to the news, it was an accident.

The coroner's report said he was running, slipped off an embankment and got hit by a truck.

You sound skeptical.

Charles ran in Central Park every day.

He knew those trails backwards and forwards.

He wouldn't run near the top of an embankment like that, let alone accidentally falling into traffic.

So you think he was pushed.

All I know is my family has a lot of money.

And where there's money...

There's motive for m*rder.

Who stands to inherit in the event of Charles's death?

I do.

But I loved Charles.

And I already have more money than I know what to do with.

I think this may be about his business.

He was a venture capitalist.

He invested in tech start-ups, and he was uncompromising when it came to the companies he backed.

I'm sure he made enemies.

Are you thinking of anyone specific?

No. I just think it's the best place to start.

Understood.

But any talk of motive is premature at this point.

We would start by establishing the facts of the case.

So you'll look into it?

We'll examine the scene of Charles's death.

But not because of your connection to my father.

If anything, we're gonna have to look past that.

I'll pay you whatever you need.

My thoughts exactly.

We'll be in touch.

Henry Baskerville's wrong.

His brother wasn't pushed, he was chased.

Looks like he ran straight through these bushes.

He must've been scraped up pretty badly, but he never slowed down.

Adrenaline narrows the field of vision.

Hence the term “a blind panic.”

It was night.

Charles was fleeing a relentless pursuer.

He was running at full speed and he glanced behind him at whoever was chasing him.

He wouldn't have seen the embankment until it was too late.

The question is: who was chasing him?

Ground's frozen; has been for some time.

So no footprints.

But... notice how these branches are broken twice.

Once by Charles, once by his pursuer.

Whoever was chasing him was big.

Several inches wider than Charles.

Ran with a low stance.

What is it?

Someone else.

A third party.

Forced their way through here from just behind this tree.

Headed south.

Away from Charles and whoever was chasing him.

Judging by the degree of browning on the breaking points of this twig, I'd say that both paths were created at roughly the same time.

So maybe a witness.

Saw something, ran.

What was he doing here, alone in the middle of the night in the dead of winter?

He was drinking.

(sniffs)

Fortified wine of the cheapest variety.

It's from a liquor store just half a mile south of here.

Time-stamped an hour before Charles's death.

Should be more than enough for you to track down our witness.

Me?

Where you going?

It's the first Thursday of the month.

Wait, you're leaving to go play chess?

Hey, spare a little change?

Hey, s-spare some change for an Iraq vet?

Here you go.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

Pretty lady gives me a 20, she can do whatever she wants.

You bought a bottle of fortified wine from BRN Liquor a few nights ago.

They gave me your name, said you were a regular, told me that you work this area.

They treat me okay.

They don't act like I got the plague or nothing.

You brought the bottle to the park, and then you saw something that scared you, and you ran away.

I don't want to talk to you anymore.

Hey, I just want to know what you saw.

No, y-you're from the hospital.

Y-You just want me to say something crazy so you can take me away.

Y-You want me to take my meds.

No, I just want to know what you saw.

And I want to help you find a place to stay tonight.

Here, you can take the money either way.

There was this guy.

H-He was running, he was afraid.

Did you see who was chasing him?

It wasn't a who, it was a what.

What do you mean?

It was an animal.

Big like a... like a bear or like a giant wolf.

It had this-this crazy growl like...

(imitates growling)

And it was glowing.

Like a lantern.

It was glowing?

Checkmate.

The usual.

Actually, Eugene, your play has been distinctly subpar today.

Are you aware that our average game lasts approximately 46 moves?

I don't really keep track.

It speaks to your skill.

And yet, today we've played four games of 21, 33, 28 and 19 moves.

Add that to your rather sleepy disposition, your work on the Gupta case, and, uh...

I must say, I'm concerned.

I'm fine.

Two months ago, a b*mb went off in this facility and a close friend of yours was k*lled in the blast.

You yourself were nearly k*lled.

I can only imagine the trepidation you must feel coming to work here.

It's a small wonder you've started taking anti-anxiety medication while at work.

(chuckles softly)

Lot of people take anti-anxiety meds.

That may be, but based on my observations, you're taking an unusually large dose, enough to produce mild cognitive impairment.

19 moves, Eugene.

And you missed an obvious avenue of escape.

I'm sorry I'm not giving good chess.

Like you said, I have a lot on my mind.

Yeah, and yet you're not in therapy.

You're just self-medicating.

I'm fine.

Lunch break's over.

I should get back to it.

You've got another 13 minutes.

Yeah, well, maybe I've taken enough beatings for one day.

Thanks for the games.

What's all that?

Case materials.

Those are old cases.

What are they doing back up here?

I expected you home hours ago.

Were you not able to find the man who witnessed Charles Baskerville's run through the woods?

I found him.

Helped him find a shelter.

He was homeless.

Did he see who was chasing Charles?

(sighs)

Sort of.

Giant, glowing wolf.

Or a very small bear.

Like I said, the guy was off his meds, he was drunk. I mean...

Why do you look like you're taking this seriously?

Because it is, in its way, a confirmation that Charles was chased to his death.

By a giant four-legged animal that was lit up like a lantern.

As you said, the man you spoke with was in an altered state-- maybe two-- but he was there and he did see something.

What if Charles's pursuer was just a large man in bulky, light-reflecting winter gear?

Oh, you have a very large man in mind?

While you were out, Henry Baskerville gave me access to his brother's social media account.

As you know, it's common for such accounts to become memorials in the event of their user's death.

I wanted to see who had visited Charles's page and who'd left their condolences, and I discovered this.

It's a messaging app.

There are two distinct inboxes-- one for friends and one for messages from strangers.

There's no evidence that Charles ever accessed either of them.

But the second inbox drew my attention.

Watson: “You're committing crimes against nature.

You will reap the whirlwind.”

These are death threats.

All left by the same anonymous user.

He apparently took issue with Charles's biotech ventures under the aegis of one of his companies, Baskerville Genetics.

Producers of such horrors as drought-resistant rice and improved-yield cotton.

And you couldn't find him.

He's proven quite adept at concealing his identity.

But he did let slip one telling personal detail.

“Pray we never meet in person.

I'm twice your size.”

You really think that someone k*lled Charles because of the work we were doing?

The work you do is controversial.

(sighs) Well, it shouldn't be.

As you can see, the genetically modified organisms we create are harmless.

Pest-resistant potatoes.

Hens that can produce more eggs.

The fact remains, Charles Baskerville received death threats over his association with this lab, and then d*ed.

Well, we all receive threats.

It's a hazard of the trade.

One of the people who sent threats to Charles stood out.

The way he described himself fit the physical description of our k*ller.

We thought if he threatened anyone else here, we might be able to identify him.

If I could see the notes in question...

Sherlock has them on his phone.

(barks)

That is not a pest-resistant potato.

No, that's Cornwall.

He's a very special dog.

I can tell.

Watson: Oh, my God.

It's glowing.

Is he also modified to account for his whereabouts the night Charles Baskerville was m*rder*d?

Watson: Good boy.

Technically, Cornwall's a chimera.

An animal with genetic material from two different species.

In his case, we introduced jellyfish DNA to make his skin bioluminescent.

He seems very sweet.

He is.

And he loved Charles.

They used to throw that ball around all the time.

As for Cornwall's whereabouts the night Charles d*ed, he's never left the lab.

How can you be certain?

We monitor him constantly.

The jellyfish DNA is an experiment.

If he stays healthy, that means we can introduce genetic code for resisting cancer or enhancing motor skills, controlling blood sugar.

You name it.

Well, he could be the “GMO-trocity” that triggered the threats.

People who send those kinds of messages aren't particularly discerning in their judgments.

“GMO-trocity”?

The person you're looking for used that exact term?

Multiple times a message.

Yes, I received similar threats.

Dozens a week.

Actually, our security people are looking into it.

I'll call them.

I hope by now they've managed to locate the sender.

Watson: Mr. Selden, we work with the police.

Please answer the door.

I can hear you breathing. Open up.

Or would you prefer we spoke with your probation officer?

(footsteps approaching)

What do you want?

I heard about Charles Baskerville's little accident on the news.

(grunts)

Couldn't have happened to a nicer perverter of science.

Actually, we don't think it was an accident.

Not exactly.

We think someone was chasing him the night that he d*ed.

And you thought that I...?

(chuckles)

Baskerville was offed Sunday night, right?

Just after 9:00.

I was at a comedy club with my sister.

Big mistake.

Every bozo that got onstage made me the centerpiece of their routines.

Fat shaming is the last acceptable prejudice in America.

We found you through your posts on anti-GMO Web sites.

We know that you communicate with a lot of people who share your outlook.

Do you think any of them ever threatened Charles Baskerville?

Nah. The people on those sites are mostly whiners and posers.

Unlike you?

I put myself out there.

GMOs are a thr*at to human existence.

Modified foods can make us sick.

Modified diseases could wipe us out.

I tell the people making the stuff what's what.

So you've sent threats to people other than the employees of Baskerville Genetics?

Take a look at my research on the table.

Go ahead.

You think they're the only ones creating abominations?

This is a chicken?

Engineered to be featherless for easier processing.

You could've eaten one of those and not even known it.

Hmm.

Hey, you should take a look at this.

What precisely is this?

Selden: A w*r dog.

Made for the U.S. m*llitary.

It's supposed to be stronger, smarter and faster than a normal dog.

And willing to k*ll on command.

But, hey, let them keep telling you how harmless GMOs are.

Oh, I'll admit Charles and I had our disagreements.

Holmes: He underbid you on several valuable contracts.

b*at you to market with drought-resistant rice and stole a dozen of your employees.

Then he got hit by a truck-- karma.

I'm still not sure why I'm here.

The department's decided to reopen the investigation into Charles Baskerville's death.

We now have reason to believe he was m*rder*d.

You think I did it?

Watson: A witness told us that Charles was chased down by some sort of strange animal.

It might even be as strange as this.

(chuckles)

You think I sicced one of these on him?

And being accused of m*rder is humorous why?

Because this animal doesn't exist.

Watson: We have evidence that your company has been developing these so-called w*r dogs for the U.S. m*llitary.

According to public records, the U.S. Army Research Laboratory gave you $5 million in preliminary development funds for something they call “an enhanced canine asset.”

They did, but that picture's a mock-up.

It's concept art from our proposal, the one that got us that grant.

So you're saying you never actually developed these dogs?

The Army wanted the animals to be fast, strong, smart, practically wanted them to talk.

It was too much.

We tried a dozen different approaches, but every attempt ended up either stillborn or nonviable.

Bell: Got any way to prove that?

Anton: Call the ARL.

When they saw our results, they cut off our funding.

Point is, I can't k*ll anyone with a super dog that doesn't exist.

Look, you want to identify people who wanted Charles dead?

Easy-- make a list of everyone he ever patent-jacked.

You know about the patent-jacking, right?

Patent-jacking?

A neologism for the hijacking of patents.

Or so I infer.

Charles Baskerville had it down to an art form.

Now say you're a start-up with a brilliant idea but no money.

He'd give you working capital in exchange for shares in the company and seats on your board.

But once he had a controlling interest, bang.

He'd liquidate the company and sell off its assets.

Mostly to himself.

And most especially the patents.

He stole the hopes and dreams of dozens of brilliant inventors.

If you really think someone sent a monster after him, I'd start with them.
Holmes: Corporate records of Charles Baskerville's meetings with more than 30 of his alleged patent-jacking victims.

We do not want for suspects.

I'm surprised Henry didn't mention this patent-jacking before.

Well, it's possible he wasn't aware.

Some people have a way of blinding themselves to the faults of those that they love or admire.

Did you know that American icon Thomas Edison used similar techniques to acquire many of his patents?

He would invite young inventors to show him their creations, and then he would have his employees reverse-engineer their work and then patent the results.

The real inventors wouldn't see a penny.

I get it now. Yeah.

The only thing Edison didn't patent was patent-jacking.

No, I'm not talking about that; I'm talking about all this stuff that you've been reading.

Our recent cases-- Hawes.

Yeah, he's been struggling.

That Gupta thing.

The contaminated DNA.

I wanted to make certain that there weren't other mistakes.

And?

I found some typos.

His reports have been more perfunctory of late.

That's it?

For now.

After everything that happened, he was prescribed certain medications, and I fear he's been misusing them.

That's why you left yesterday to talk to him.

Mm-hmm.

How'd it go?

Poorly.

Is there anything you want me to...?

No, I think I know what I need to do next.

Hmm.

Find something?

I think Henry did know about his brother's patent-jacking.

These are minutes from a meeting that Charles had with one of those companies he screwed over.

Henry was in attendance.

If he was present at other meetings with other victims, that would suggest he was an active participant in his brother's crime.

If Charles really was k*lled over patent-jacking, Henry could be a target, too.

Henry: Charles didn't do anything wrong.

The owners of the start-ups he liquidated were well compensated.

Did they want more than that?

Maybe, but I can't see any of them being angry enough to commit m*rder.

Imagine you're one of the inventors that Charles fleeced.

Imagine watching him make millions from your brainchild, while you're forced to walk away with $100,000 and a hearty handshake.

I'll take a look at my notes from the meetings you mentioned, okay?

See if anyone stands out, but that's the best I can...

Henry?

Sorry.

Thought I saw something in my backyard.

What the hell?

Watson: Something wrong?

There's something out there.

It's glowing.

Henry, stay away from the windows.

What the hell's going on?

We're not sure, but whatever it is, we think it chased Charles into traffic the other night.

Holmes: Just don't let it get anywhere near you.

We're calling the police.

Can-can you describe what you saw?

Uh, I... I-I don't know.

Uh, it's an animal, uh, it's on four legs.

(glass shatters)

Oh, my God.

It's in the house.

(animal growling)

Henry, what's that noise?

It-it's the animal, it's the thing.

Tell me the cops are coming.

Henry, be quiet.

It's in the damn house.

(growling continues)

(pounding)

It's breaking down the door.

Henry, I think I might know what's attacking you.

I need you to go outside, go to your swimming pool.

Keep the swimming pool between you and it.

But...

The swimming pool. Now, Henry!

Police are on their way.

Watson: We're consultants with the NYPD.

Captain Gregson called about us.

Henry: I have no idea what it is.

I've never seen anything like it before.

Excuse me.

Hey. Are you okay?

Yes, thanks to your partner.

You said to keep the pool between me and it.

How did you know it would try to run across the tarp?

(mechanical clanking)

Only slightly less outrageous than a glowing mastiff, wouldn't you agree?

(mechanical clanking, growling)

Just when you think you've seen everything.

You said it was based on one of the patents Charles Baskerville looted?

Several, actually.

From multiple sources.

That's one of the reasons I wasn't able to work out its true nature sooner.

Yeah, about that.

The distinctive growl I heard over the phone, that was the first clue, and that comes from these high-efficiency hybrid engines developed by Devonshire Robotics.

The vague dog-like appearance is due to this reinforced frame-- that was patented by a different company.

A third company developed these terrain-adaptive legs.

So on, so forth.

Charles only held on to biotech and genetic engineering patents for himself.

The rest he sold off.

So someone bought his stolen patents and made a Terminator.

Sherlock shared what we know with a friend who works in automation and artificial intelligence.

Holmes: She confirmed that it employs fire-and-forget targeting, like a m*ssile.

An operator pilots it until it acquires a visual lock on its target, at which point it can be ordered to eliminate that target without any further input.

Watson: That's why it fell into the covered pool.

It was target-fixated on Henry.

It charged at him full-speed, didn't realize the tarp wasn't solid ground.

I don't see any g*ns.

How did it expect to k*ll him once it caught him?

It tore through a solid oak door with its front legs.

It was gonna stomp him to death?

Do we know whose idea it was to build this thing?

We can guess who paid for it, right?

The m*llitary, same as with those genetically-engineered w*r dogs?

Unfortunately, they haven't returned our calls.

Holmes: As far as the actual manufacturer, we've got calls into Devonshire Robotics and the other plundered firms.

And hopefully one of them will be able to tell us who acquired their patents.

Welcome to Stapleton Innovations.

I'm Rodger Stapleton.

Yeah, Detective Bell.

This is Sherlock Holmes and Joan Watson.

They consult for the department.

Like to ask you a few questions about this.

Where'd you find it?

At the home of the man it tried to maul last night.

We were hoping you could explain how it got there.

(electronic rock music playing over TV)

We sh*t this a few months ago.

I think it'll help explain a few things about the Gus machine.

You named your k*ller robot Gus?

Oh, it wasn't designed to k*ll.

It's supposed to carry gear for the infantry, like a pack mule.

And yet we're investigating two different att*cks by your mule, one of them fatal.

Laura: Someone obviously used one of the Guses in a way that was off-spec.

“One of the Guses”?

We've built a total of ten Gus robots.

The one used in the att*cks has to be Gus Five.

And how can you be certain?

Because Gus Five is... was missing.

About six weeks ago, we shipped Gus Five to the Army Research Lab's proving grounds in Maryland.

They said he never arrived.

Did you call the police?

The ARL ordered us not to.

The entire project is classified.

They assigned the case to the Defense Criminal Investigation Service.

Some agents came and conducted interviews, but that was the last we heard from them.

And you're sure it was stolen in transit?

Rodger: Well, we haven't ruled anything out.

Could have been taken by someone here.

It also could have been someone at the shipping company or the testing facility.

Or maybe it wasn't an inside job at all.

Can you think of anyone in Stapleton Innovations who might have motive to k*ll Charles and Henry Baskerville?

Actually, I can.

Me.

Did Henry tell you about the Baskerville trust?

He did not.

You know each other?

The trust is where Charles got most of his money, from the estate of Hugo Baskerville, the rail baron.

It passes, intact, to the oldest surviving heir.

That was Charles; now it's Henry.

I'm their cousin.

So you're next in line.

Next and last, as far as anyone knows.

But I loved Charles; same goes for Henry.

I wouldn't hurt them, not for anything.

Bell: Can you tell us where you were last night and Sunday evening?

Montana.

I got back this morning.

Charles's funeral is tomorrow.

I go on a grouse hunting trip every year with my friends.

They'll tell you, I was there the whole week.

The Baskerville trust seems like a strong motive for m*rder.

Yeah, but Stapleton's alibi seemed pretty solid, unless you think he could've remote-controlled Gus Five from Montana.

Anything's possible.

Well, maybe we should look at the Army Research Lab.

Could be someone there up to no good.

I don't think we'll have to go that far afield.

Bell: It's a nice smoking area.

You want to tell us what you're looking for?

Looking for someone.

The individual who smokes this brand of cigarette.

Who?

You didn't smell it on him during the meeting?

(door opens)

Mr. Barrymore.

So nice of you to join us.

Your arrival in this area was inevitable after such a stressful meeting.

Uh, something wrong?

Well, it was clear that you were hiding something from us.

Specifically, you seemed uncomfortable when your boss was providing his alibi.

So I'd like to know why.

Bell: You withhold information on a m*rder case, Mr. Barrymore, that's felony obstruction.

Look, Rodger was lying through his teeth, all right?

He wasn't in Montana.

How do you know?

It's an open secret at the company that his hunting trips are BS.

He lies to his wife about them, and we all have to cover.

Is there a mistress?

More like a series of professional arrangements.

He goes whoring.

Barrymore: I ran into him at a strip club in Manhattan once when he was supposed to be hunting elk in Colorado.

He was with this girl, really expensive-looking.

He invited me to sit with him.

We had drinks.

I even walked him back to his hotel.

Do you remember where this was in Manhattan?

It's some fancy place.

Uh, the Undershaw?

That's less than a mile from where Charles Baskerville d*ed.

If you're here for another match...

I'm not.

No new homicide victims since yesterday, so you're not here for a body.

No, I'm here for you.

Look...

I told you yesterday...

You're not fine, Eugene.

I know.

And I know 'cause I've been where you are.

(scoffs) I'm an addict now?

No.

(sighs)

See, there was this woman, once upon a time, right?

And to me, uh... to me, she was the woman, you know?

And she d*ed.

Well, (chuckles) I thought she did.

And I lost myself.

Yeah, the pain was, um... it was very intense, so I began to self-medicate, and then my work began to suffer, and I-I made these small mistakes.

Small errors at first, and then much larger ones.

And eventually my own ineptitude was so apparent that... I couldn't deny it.

And my self-esteem shattered.

And then I just, I fell into this spiral of... self-pity, addiction and-and despair.

I... I don't know whether you're an addict or not.

Uh, I don't think you are.

But you're not well.

I'm hurting.

But I'll manage.

I am managing.

You just...

You're standing on a precipice... and I cannot watch you tumble over it, mate.

I refuse to.

All right?

Bell: Your signature on room service receipts.

Testimony from hotel staff confirming you were a guest.

And final receipt charged to Stapleton Innovations.

Watson: You already admitted you had motive to k*ll the Baskervilles.

To top it off, the department's computer experts confirmed that your activation codes were used to trigger the Gus robot when it att*cked Charles and Henry.

It's not looking good for you, Mr. Stapleton.

You might think about cutting a deal with the D.A.

I didn't do it.

That's not what the evidence says.

The evidence is wrong.

I already told you.

I loved Charles. I love Henry.

And my activation codes aren't much of a secret.

I use them in front of my employees all the time.

And, yes, I may not have been in Montana, but I wasn't alone either.

I was with a friend at the time of Charles's death.

I was with another friend on the night that Henry was att*cked.

I'm happy to have them confirm my story.

I'm guessing when you say “friend,” you mean prost*tute.

If you paid them for their company, they're not gonna be the most credible witnesses.

You want proof that I didn't try to k*ll my cousins to inherit the Baskerville trust?

Fine. I have a perfect way to do that.

We're listening.

I'll punch him in the face.

Or you.

Rodger...

No.

Either way, it's as*ault on a police officer-- a felony.

Four witnesses-- there's no way I dodge a conviction.

And it would prove you're innocence how?

The terms of Hugo Baskerville's will are very clear.

No one guilty of a felony can inherit the trust.

I'm convicted of as*ault, I'll be disinherited.

So how 'bout it?

(door opens)

Watson: Hold on to your hat.

Rodger Stapleton's friends backed up his alibi.

And were they both ladies of the night?

Yes.

Stapleton was paying for their services the two nights in question.

It's hard to imagine he's not paying them again now.

You seem determined to keep him as a suspect.

It was hard to buy anything he was selling today.

Even that offer to plead guilty to a felony.

Maybe he thought it was worth sacrificing his inheritance to avoid a m*rder conviction.

It's possible.

But if the evidence is telling us a different story, perhaps we should listen.

You have a better suspect in the Baskerville family tree?

Hypothetically, thousands. And none.

Even if we're wrong about the m*rder*r, we could be right about the motive.

k*lling Henry and Charles and framing Rodger with one of his robots clears the way for another claimant to the trust.

Okay, so who's next in line?

At first glance, no one.

It appears the Baskerville men, apart from Hugo himself, struggle with infertility.

Henry and Charles have no children.

Rodger Stapleton has no legitimate offspring.

And as far as I can tell, no by-blows from his wenching.

There's also been a fair share of bad luck.

Henry and Charles's sister Clara d*ed of cancer in her teens.

Their first cousin was k*lled in Afghanistan, and Rodger's older brother Ike d*ed in a car crash in Australia.

So after Charles's death, the only living heirs are Rodger and Henry.

The only known living heirs.

I reviewed Hugo Baskerville's will.

For a man of his time, he was remarkably enlightened about bastards.

He allowed that a lovechild could inherit, provided there were no legitimate heirs remaining.

So while the many branches of this tree might appear barren, who's to say that some unknown cross-pollination has not borne fruit?

If that's true, all we have to do is look through...

120 years of birth records to find a new suspect.

We could spend the next few months doing genealogical research, but I think there might be a more expeditious way to identify the murderous Baskerville heir.

I don't know.

I suppose there could be another heir, but he or she could've been born anywhere in the world, at any time in the last century to any one of several dozen people.

True, but I believe there's a way to find our needle without searching a world full of haystacks.

All you need to do is m*rder your cousin, Rodger Stapleton.

♪ ♪

(exhales deeply)

(scoffs)

It's, like, 100 degrees in here.

It's precisely 95 degrees.

Ideal for yoga and tortoises.

I thought it best not to overtax the furnace.

Yeah, well, as long as you don't set all those papers on fire.

Reexamining the evidence will not help events progress any faster.

(sighs)

So no news.

Nothing as of yet.

You know, it's been five days since Henry k*lled Rodger.

I'm well aware, thank you.

What about Hawes? Have you heard from him?

(cell phone chimes)

Finally.

It appears our endgame has begun.

My Australian birth certificate, listing my father as Ike Stapleton.

You'll forgive my skepticism, but no one in the family has had any contact with Ike Stapleton since he left the U.S. in 1972.

He d*ed when I was five. Car crash.

My mom says he was a bit of a hippie.

They weren't together long, but she says I have his chin.

I don't hear an Australian accent.

I lost it.

Years ago, when I moved to L.A. for college.

Look, I know I don't look much like a Baskerville, and I know I kind of just came out of nowhere, but I'm happy to take a DNA test if you'd like.

Did Rodger know that you were his niece when he hired you?

Of course.

If you won't take my word for it... take his.

Uh, this is... e-mail correspondence between you and Mr. Stapleton?

Uncle Rodger tracked me down when I was in college.

We exchanged the occasional e-mail over the years, and when I got my masters in robotics, he offered me a job.

He never mentioned any of this to me.

Or to the Baskervilles.

And he never mentioned the Baskervilles to me.

Not once.

I only found out about the trust last week when the police came to see him.

You know, all this time, I thought he tracked me down to make up for the way he treated my father, but now I wonder if he was setting me up.

Setting you up?

I would have made a good patsy for when he k*lled his cousins, don't you think?

(Holmes scoffs)

What was that?

I have some guests.

Holmes: Good show, Miss Lyons.

Quite clever of you to posit that Rodger wanted to frame you, when in fact, you framed Rodger.

Oh, that's right.

You thought he was dead, didn't you?

m*rder*d by Henry here.

Conveniently making you the heir to the Baskerville trust.

Well, it was in all the papers.

But you of all people should know not to believe everything you read.

The e-mails she just handed over were forgeries, right?

I sure as hell didn't write them.

You tricked me.

We created a vacuum, and the heir rushed in.

Or more specifically, the heiress.

Watson: We recorded your meeting with Miss Chambers.

It doesn't prove that you sent Gus Five after the Baskerville brothers, but it should be enough for police to get a warrant to search your home and car.

Your plan was elaborate and quite some time in the making, so it's hard to believe there isn't some evidence to be found.

It's true, she does have your brother's chin.

(”Stories” by Big Little Lions playing)

♪ Stories we have ♪
♪ That we tell ourselves ♪
♪ Stories that bend with time... ♪

(doorbell rings)

♪ Histories change like books on a shelf... ♪

Eugene. Come in.

♪ Pages that need a rewrite... ♪

(clears throat)

I, um... came by to give you these.

Files on your fellow M.E.s?

The three most likely to put up with your, uh, visits.

Pick one, and I will warn the unlucky winner what to expect.

So you're going somewhere.

(sighs)

You were right.

As usual.

I've been struggling.

I told the chief M.E. what's been going on, and, uh, we decided it might be best for me to take medical leave till I can get my head straight.

Until then, call me the P.T.S.D.M.E.

Well, you'll be back.

Maybe a month or two.

Maybe never.

I get, uh, offers all the time to run my own morgue.

Smaller cities, mostly.

Portsmouth, Tucson, Boise.

More pay, less stress.

(chuckles)

Fewer memories.

Well, any one of them's going to be lucky to have you.

I'm just thinking it over so far.

I'll keep you posted.

But, in case I decide to move on...

...thank you.

For bullying some sense into me.

What are bullies for?

♪ We leave behind... ♪

(sighs)

♪ Stories ♪
Ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh...
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
♪ Stories ♪
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh...
Post Reply