(low, indistinct chatter)
WOMAN: So... what did you think?
Well, who knew that beef lollipop and foie gras mousse and mint could be so delicious.
You're making fun of me.
No, I loved it.
Now I see why it's so hard to get in this place.
I had the best day today, Maggie.
You should see your face right now-- you're beaming.
(laughs)
It's all the sun we got on the water taxi to Battery Park.
I gotta say, the Statue of Liberty from that perspective... really was something.
Yeah. Guys?
Excuse me, I hate to interrupt but they want me to close out for the night.
Oh sure. You need us to settle up? No problem.
How was everything? Fantastic.
My wife kept telling me, Iowa's got nothing like this.
WAITRESS: That's the state that grows all the corn?
Or is it potatoes?
Oh, corn.
Though most of what I grow now is turned into biofuel.
Ethanol.
It's a renewable energy source.
My husband loves his work.
Cool.
Well, listen, enjoy the rest of your trip.
For you.
Thank you.
You sure I can't get you anything else before I go?
No, we're fine. I am just going to go and have my after dinner cigar.
But not right outside, okay?
Um, smoke gets in: customers hate it.
But a little ways down to the left is cool.
I'll be back before you finish your sambuca.
FRANK: Hey. Sorry I'm late.
Well, you said you were running a half-hour behind, so that makes you on time.
Long day?
Some eight-hour days feel like a week.
Yeah.
Anything you want to unload?
How are you?
Me?
Well, I'm headed for another run-in with the Port Authority...
Ian Boyd was sh*t dead today.
Good. Who sh*t him?
A convenience store owner he was trying to rob, but not before he was... able to k*ll a young woman who was also in the store.
She was trying to warn the owner she saw a g*n.
Ian sh*t her.
She was pronounced dead at the scene.
I'm sorry.
He should have been behind bars from the last robbery.
That was a jury's decision.
Yeah, on a case that I lost.
And because I lost it, he was back on the streets, and because of that, a young woman is dead.
You can't tell me I don't bear some responsibility for that.
Okay.
Menus or another round?
Both.
(man and woman chatting, laughing)
Did you try the monkfish? I wanted to.
It all sounded good.
I had the bay scallops...
(three g*nshots)
(diners murmuring)
MAN: What was that?
MAN 2: Those were g*nshots.
They had to be.
What's going on?
Oh, God! Lance, no!
No!
(gasps)
Call 911!
Hurry! My husband's been sh*t!
All right, let me get this straight.
The sh*ts ring out, and after a quick peek the customers all just go back to eating their meals, like nothing happened? That's what they said.
Must be one hell of a restaurant--
make you wait around for six months for a reservation, then they don't even let a man getting sh*t interrupt their dinner.
What else you got for me?
Well, the victim was a tourist from Iowa, Lance Olson.
He's at St. Benjamin's Hospital, with the wife... Margaret.
sh*t three times.
All his money and his credit cards taken.
You find a g*n? No. Not yet.
Keep searching. And what about the canvass?
Some of the people were sleeping.
And, uh, the one's that were awake apparently didn't think it was that big of a deal.
g*nshots are not new to this neighborhood, no matter how many fancy restaurants they put on this street.
Canvass again, just in case somebody didn't answer their door.
And widen the search perimeter for the w*apon, okay? Right.
You know, Jack?
You know what I can't figure out?
Nice, well lit up area right here, nice little bench-- why is the husband over there smoking next to a dark Dumpster?
Well, the manager says that's where they steer the smokers.
Iowan tourist gunned down in the, uh, Big Apple.
Press is going to eat this up, so to speak.
Yeah, well, it's not our problem. No.
Why are you still up?
Oh, Erin got some bad new tonight.
You remember the Boyd case?
Sure. Where her eyewitness got ripped apart on the stand.
Well, he sh*t and k*lled a young woman in a robbery attempt earlier tonight, before the bodega owner k*lled him.
How's she taking it?
As you can imagine.
Poor baby.
She's successful because she's so hard on herself, but she pays dearly for it.
And I still worry about her like she's...
Like she's your own kid?
Does that ever go away?
Not really.
I'll make some coffee.
(phone chimes, vibrates)
Well, if I wasn't awake, I would be now.
What happened?
A tourist was sh*t on the Lower East Side.
He's critical.
(knocks on door)
Mrs. Olson?
Detective Reagan. My partner, Detective Curatola.
He just got out of surgery.
(sniffles) They think they stopped the bleeding, but they said it was... very bad.
(indistinct announcement over P.A.)
Uh...
We know it's a trying time for you.
We need to ask you some questions, and we're hoping that you can help us.
What am I going to do if he doesn't pull through?
We understand you were the first person to find your husband after he was sh*t.
Did you see anyone, anything, anybody follow him out of the restaurant?
I heard the g*nshots and I ran outside.
My husband was lying on the ground.
It's my fault.
I dragged him here.
I came her with my girlfriends, shopping and seeing shows, and... I love it here.
And I wanted him to, as well.
Um, Mrs. Olson, um... when you were outside, did you see anything?
A car? Anyone around?
I don't know.
Right when I was coming out, somebody passed me.
Did you get a look at them?
It happened so fast.
Was it a man, a woman?
Did you see what they were wearing?
Were they short? Tall? Man.
He had on one of those, um, sweatshirts with a hood.
Do you know what color?
Blue? It was dark colored.
How about his face?
He had the hood up.
I didn't get a good look, because Lance...
Mrs. Olson, the manager of the restaurant said that your husband paid a very large bill in cash.
Is it typical for him to carry a lot of cash around?
He likes to pay cash.
He says businesses appreciate it.
Okay, so he had a lot of cash on him.
Who would have known that? Today? Yesterday?
We got in...
We stayed in the room at the hotel all night.
This is kind of a second honeymoon.
We've been married ten years.
The bellman.
The... cabdriver.
The waitress at the restaurant tonight.
Lance gave her a really nice tip.
That's Lance.
Nice to everyone.
You've been very helpful.
We'll find out who did this to your husband, Mrs. Olson.
Thank you.
Caucasian male, approximately 74 years old.
Fixed posterior... Condition the body's in; he's been dead at least a day, I would say.
...gauge syringe found on the body. Hundreds of people walk by, and nobody bothers to call, you know?
Guess they figure he's homeless; who cares?
But he was someone's loved one.
Figure... just being human should earn you better.
Right? I mean... Yeah.
Excuse me, Dr. Trent?
Reagan, it's our second crime scene, you can call me Laura.
Uh, Laura, I was just wondering, um, are you writing it up as natural causes?
Well, insulin found on the body initially indicated complications arising from diabetes.
But neon green fluid in the mouth cavity could be antifreeze.
Have to wait on the tox screen, though.
So you're calling it a homicide?
Preliminarily.
Lots to learn back at the lab.
So it's totality of circumstances.
Exactly. Why are you so interested?
I'm only on the job six months, so I figure the best way to learn is to... ask questions of smart people.
Well, you're right.
Ask questions, keep an open mind, work hard.
I appreciate you taking the time, Dr.... Laura.
Keep up the good work, Reagan.
Thanks. I'll try.
Attaboy.
(clears throat) What?
Shame on you, Reagan. What?
Hitting on a doctor, over a body?
Do you also flirt at funerals?
Hey, I'm just trying to learn, okay?
You-you-you jealous somebody else might have something to teach me?
Knucklehead, go.
(chuckling): Okay, Sarge.
Can we just jump right in?
Do you have another speed?
No, I don't.
Tourism in New York is a multibillion-dollar industry, partly predicated on a kind of safari model.
They're going to be disappointed if they don't get close to the lions and tigers, but really disappointed if one of them eats 'em.
It's a fine line.
That's a pretty harsh way to put it.
Yes, it is, but that's the version the press will hammer you on.
This is a safe city.
Not for white Iowa farmer Mr. Olson, it turned out, and he's the story.
I am not going to try and parse this tragedy along racial divides.
With all due respect, it's not going to be your choice.
The elephant's already in the room.
I can speak to the facts. I don't have to join the circus.
Frank, whether you like it or not, you're going to have to play to the house on this, just a little.
Just enough to show that you share the outrage.
I do, Garrett. A man was m*rder*d.
You know what I mean. I hate that you know what you mean.
I'm just doing my job.
I hate that, too.
I can stall until Monday without looking like we're stalling.
(sighs)
The press conference must be timely, but independent of any progress on the case.
There can be no rush to judgment here. Done.
Thank you. Welcome.
All right. Thanks.
Well, we can forget about the cabdriver.
He picked up two fares after he dropped the Olsons at the restaurant, and his GPS shows him in Yonkers at the time of the sh**ting.
Well, this waitress-- I don't know what to say.
I mean, she has no record, but we can't find her anywhere.
She won't answer her phone or her door.
Well, she's a possible, though.
Mm-hmm. I mean, she works in the restaurant.
She sees Mr. Olson pull out all that cash, she calls an accomplice, Mr. Olson goes outside to smoke.
Accomplish shows up, boom, it all goes bad. Right.
Well, I have her employee record from the restaurant.
I'm thinking maybe an emergency contact can help us out somewhere.
What about the armed robberies in the neighborhood?
Four of them in the last year.
Two of them went unsolved, one guy's still in Rikers, and the fourth one, Brian Stratton, walked because the, uh, victim never showed up.
Wait. You said Brian... Brian Stratton?
Yeah. Why?
Brian Stratton's her emergency contact.
The waitress? Yeah.
You kidding me? Yeah. Wait one sec.
And look at this.
His number was called from the, uh, the restaurant phone just before she clocked out.
Our possible just became a probable.
(loud techno music playing)
Door's open.
Looks like we're invited to the party. Yup.
(loud music continues)
Think they're rolling on E? The love drug?
This should be easy then.
Hey, you Ecstasy heads. Hey, you two.
Get down. Get down.
(phone ringing) You want to dance your way out of here?
Oh, yeah, totally.
Yeah? All right. NYPD.
(bangs cabinet, music stops)
NYPD, morons.
You're coming with us for questioning in an as*ault case.
Make that questioning in a m*rder case.
Lance Olson just d*ed.
What do you know.
Get some clothes on.
(reporters shouting questions)
Do you have family coming from Iowa?
Mrs. Olson has suffered a terrible loss.
She will have the full resources of the city at her disposal.
The person responsible for this heinous crime will be brought to justice.
You have my word, and that of the District Attorney's Office.
Now, excuse me. Do you have any idea who did this?
Your sister's on the case? Oh, yeah.
Do you Reagans ever take a day off?
Not if we can help it.
What about those yo-yos we brought in, the waitress and her boyfriend-- they back down to earth yet?
We'll find out. Which one you want?
Uh, I'll take the dancer.
Since you already had your turn with him.
Ha-ha. Funny.
You ever been to prison, Maya?
'Cause, I mean, they got no Ecstasy there.
Nothing to make the mean people suddenly turn nice.
You follow me? I know.
Hmm. So what was your plan, hmm?
A little bump and grab, get what you can?
But you didn't have any idea Brian was gonna bring a g*n along.
There was no g*n!
All we did was go score some E.
She called me to pick her up, that's it.
Right, right, right.
Fancy electronics, couple hundred weekly on E.
Money for that's got to be coming from somewhere.
We didn't jack anyone.
You know what?
Maya's probably already told my partner everything he needs to know, and she's probably got a sweet deal.
Guess you're not getting one. DANNY: Come on, Maya.
Just talk to me, all right? I promise, you'll feel better.
You'll go easy on the dr*gs and everything?
I'll see what I can do, talk to the ADA, but you need to tell me the truth right now.
How we get extra cash is, every once in a while, I get a bunch of customers' numbers and sell them.
Credit card numbers?
The guy I work with waits before using them so it doesn't track back to me.
Okay. Now what about the sh**ting?
We had nothing to do with that m*rder*d guy. Come on, Maya.
Brian picked me up, and we went to East River Park to score.
Come on. That's it, I swear.
Did you see anyone outside that restaurant?
No.
But a couple blocks away, we saw this black guy tearing down the street in a hoodie, maybe blue.
We nearly ran over him on Brian's Vespa.
We almost hit this crazy black dude with my bike.
Does that help?
DANNY: Do your remember him well enough to work with our sketch artist?
Waiting tables, you get a good memory for faces.
I hope you're telling the truth, 'cause if not, you're gonna remember this face for a long time.
(door closes)
FRANK: Extra uniformed officers and anticrime teams have already been rotated into the popular tourist areas in the Lower East Side, and other neighborhoods that are famously our city's nightlife destinations.
REPORTERS: Commissioner? Commissioner?
Isn't that a case of too little, too late, Commissioner?
No, it's question of reacting appropriately to a tragic incident that occurred in this city.
I would like to stress this here.
We have seen no uptick in any of the metrics that we depend on that says to me that the death of Mr. Olson was part of a trend or wave or whatever term you choose to overlay on it.
REPORTER: Commissioner? Yes.
You yourself have ordered an increased police presence in exactly the kinds of neighborhoods where this m*rder took place.
So that our citizens and visitors alike could enjoy an added sense of security.
And I didn't hear a question there. What's next?
Here's my question, Commissioner.
Can you honestly say that...?
If I say it, it's my honest opinion.
...that the effect of this brutal m*rder, in terms of the profile of this city and the
$30 billion in tourism revenue we depend on, can somehow be minimized by your department's comforting statistics?
Are you finished?
Yes, sir.
What we're really talking about here is that a well-to-do white male visiting from the Midwest was m*rder*d in our city.
Now, with the right kind of purposeful slant, you can resurrect an image of New York as a city of mean streets and roaming predators, one that sells newspapers and advertising minutes.
But from where I sit, the death of Mr. Olson, of two girls from Harlem in a drive-by sh**ting, of an elderly man from a mugging in the Bronx--
these are all equally unacceptable, and we try every day to do everything we can to prevent them from happening again.
Thanks for coming.
(overlapping shouting)
Those two flakes weren't lying about their alibi.
I found the drug dealer in the park just where they said he'd be. Oh.
And he ID'd Brian and Maya's pictures out of a dozen I have here.
Said they show up every Thursday like clockwork.
Well, I got the artist sketch of Maya's description. Mmm.
It's in the hands of every uniform and detective on the Lower East Side.
They're checking it against surveillance cameras, dog walkers, stoop sitters, anybody with eyes on the streets.
I don't know.
You think this guy's for real, or a hallucination of some stoners?
(phone ringing)
I don't know.
Their alibi held up.
Hold on, partner.
We may be batting a thousand.
A bodega owner just recognized the sketch. Let's go.
It's Pierre.
This Pierre-- does he have last name?
No. Just Pierre.
He's Haitian.
Drives a cab 12 hours a day, then jogs in the neighborhood afterwards.
You know, I've told him, a black man running at night is just asking for trouble.
He says it keeps him sane.
He comes in for water and plantain chips after his run.
Do you know where he lives? No. Is he in some kind of trouble?
Uh, just need to talk to him. DANNY: Look, you say Pierre drives a cab. You happen to know which company he drives for?
Steady Cabs.
Real sweatshop. Hmm.
Pierre says he gets only
80 bucks for a 12-hour shift.
Good. You've been a real help.
I hope so. You know, most of my customers are a pain, but Pierre-- he's one of the good ones.
Good to know.
Oh, here's number three.
That's the number that the guy from the cab company gave us.
WOMAN: Yes?
Police. Can you open the door, ma'am?
I need to ask you a few questions.
What's this about?
We're looking for Pierre Dornay. Is he here?
Yes. That's my husband, What's this about?
We need to speak to him, ma'am. Can you just get him, please?
Pierre, it's the police. They want to talk to you.
Hey.
Go around, Jackie. Hey! Yeah.
Hey!
Hey! Stop!
Police!
(grunts)
DANNY: Hey!
Pierre!
Hold up!
Hold up!
Hey!
Stop!
Where you going? Where you going?
Get your hands down and turn around.
Turn around!
I did nothing wrong!
Yeah, right, and I'm Mother Teresa.
(reporters clamoring)
DANNY: Oh, and here they come, the vultures.
The only channel on their police scanners they care for.
All right, come on.
(reporters shouting questions)
DANNY: Step back. I said, move it.
(reporters shouting questions)
Come on!
Step aside.
Come on, innocent people do not run from the police, Pierre.
In my country, they do.
Is that because you were a dirty cop, and so they ran from you?
I did nothing wrong.
Yeah, well, your record from Haiti says you were thrown off the police force for stealing.
That is a lie.
I was trapped in the earthquake for three days.
I prayed to live.
And a man--
he said that God sent him to dig, and so he dug day and night until he found me.
I knew from that point on, I must always be a good man.
So when I saw the others stealing on the force, I told.
They made up their lie to silence me.
Wow. That's a touching story.
It's the truth. All right.
Let's say you are telling the truth.
That would put you about two blocks from the restaurant right around the time of the sh**ting.
You see anything? You hear anything?
No. No, nothing of notice.
Except a man who walked past me.
And what makes him so special?
He walked quick quick.
And he turned his head away like he purposefully didn't want to be seen.
Anything else?
His clothes.
Uh, they didn't match.
On top he wore a big hoodie, and on the bottom were nice trousers and shiny leather shoes.
It was strange.
(sighs)
Police got a break in the fatal sh**ting of Iowan farmer and tourist, Lance Olson, when a Haitian cabdriver, Pierre Dornay, was taken into custody for the brutal m*rder of the heartland visitor to New York City.
Lance Olson, a pioneer in the development of sustainable biofuels...
All right, well, the wife didn't want to tell me, but since she lost her job Pierre's been more and more desperate for money.
I'm thinking this is a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time, Jack.
Two witnesses put him running from the scene of the crime just after the sh**ting.
Where he apparently jogs every night.
And when we go to talk to him, the guy dives out the window.
Come on, Danny, that's guilty as hell.
I know he looks guilty, Jackie, but it doesn't feel right.
Come on, maybe it's a coincidence.
Look at the media: "The heartland pioneer att*cked by the scary immigrant."
I mean, they're throwing this guy to the wolves.
Doesn't feel right.
Uh, well, explain that to your sister.
Detectives, I hear you have a good suspect in custody.
Well, that's a matter of opinion, which at the moment is split.
You have anything on motive?
They're drowning in debt.
I mean, he has a list of thefts, although none of them are violent.
You know, we know it's a step away from robbing someone and hurting them at the same time.
I think we should go back to the wife, see if she can identify the suspect. Whoa, whoa, whoa.
She said she didn't get a good look at the guy. A statement she made a few hours after her husband was sh*t.
I think we should give her another opportunity.
Opportunity for what, to-to make something up?
She said she didn't get a good look at the guy.
To tell us whether upon further reflection she can identify a suspect.
Of course she can identify the suspect now.
His face is all over the TV. Come...
If she identifies Pierre now, it's gonna have stink on it, and you know it.
Look, we have a visitor to this city who in one moment is holding hands with her husband across dinner and a few hours later, he's dead.
I think she should have the chance, if she can, to put the man responsible away.
Okay.
Doc.
Got more questions?
I have a favor to ask.
I'm listening.
I've misplaced my memo book, uh, containing my notes from the homeless man scene.
(slow mocking gasp)
Did the dog eat your homework, Officer?
I wish. Um...
(chuckles)
it's gonna make me look like that big of a jerk if I have to... ask my boss to log me onto the system to get the information for the reports.
(smacks lips)
Yeah, that doesn't look good.
No, it doesn't.
So I was wondering if, um... if I'd log you in here?
Makes you a hero and me just a little bit less of a jerk.
You're lucky I have a soft spot for rookies.
I owe you one. Hm.
Favor from a rook might not mean much, but...
Hey, you never know.
♪ ♪
You say he spoke his mind; I say he sh*t himself in the foot.
Then let's just agree to disagree, shall we?
The mayor would appreciate a clarifying statement.
Every reporter there understood exactly what he was talking about-- there's nothing to clarify or rescind, end of story.
The mayor requested it, end of story.
Okay, here you go: "The commissioner regrets
"that in his statements to the press
"he didn't emphasize the need for visitors
"to exercise reasonable caution in emerging neighborhoods
"where the underprivileged are being pushed out.
Oh, here you go. "Where a bodega that still
"takes food stamps sits next to a restaurant
"that gets 50 bucks a plate for mac and cheese." How's that?
Okay. I give up.
But the mayor won't.
Thanks for dropping by.
(door closes)
You're an idiot. Thank you.
She's right, you know. No, I don't know.
Your position won't be compromised by embracing the fact that tourism is good for New York City.
Equating the m*rder of a white, wealthy tourist to an old man mugged in the Bronx...
That is not what I said, and you know it.
I know it's how it was perceived.
Only by someone who didn't bother to listen.
The mayor listened!
We're done here, Garrett.
(sighs)
I'm Detective Reagan, ma'am.
This is, uh...
Erin Boyle, with the Manhattan District Attorney's Office.
I'm Margaret's sister, Leslie.
We were hoping to speak to her if we could.
Come on in. She's resting.
This is my husband, Mark.
And... I'm Carl Perry, friend of the family.
He was kind enough to fly us here.
I'll go get Margaret.
(clears throat)
DANNY: So, uh... you two from Iowa also?
Yeah. We're, um... we haven't had a m*rder in my hometown for five years, Detective.
You lure people here with your glitzy advertising, and then put a fancy restaurant in a hellhole... while the armed criminals roam the streets.
You guys just get in or something?
MARK: Yeah, this morning, and, uh, we're just staying long enough to get my brother-in-law's body and fly him back home. All right, all right, Mark.
Take it easy, all right? They're here to help.
How are you doing?
I'm numb.
Mrs. Olson, we could use your help, if you're up to it.
You said that you didn't clearly see the face of the man who was running from your husband after he was sh*t.
Has anything come back to you?
I don't think so.
We'd like to put you in front of a lineup to see if anything would jog your memory.
They said that you arrested somebody.
Did you see any of that on the news?
No. I can't bear to watch it.
Do you think you could handle the lineup?
I'll do anything to put Lance's k*ller behind bars.
Okay.
Let's go.
All right, I want you to take a look at all the men in this lineup, tell me if you recognize any one of them.
(gasps)
Number five.
I recognize him.
Okay, where do you recognize number five from?
That's the man I saw running away from Lance after he was sh*t.
She picked him.
She got lucky.
We have two independent witnesses that corroborate.
Come on, we just served this guy up on a silver platter for her. Well, then he'll have 20-to-life to commiserate with all the other murderers who insist they're innocent.
(sighs heavily)
But I read that eyewitness testimonies are responsible for a lot of wrongful convictions.
Yeah, but that cuts both ways.
Sometimes it's the closest account to what actually happened.
HENRY: And the best sh*t at making your case.
Jurors hear what happened from a layperson, they perk up.
Which is fine, Grandpa, as long as the witness really saw what they say they did.
She lost her husband-- what is she gonna gain by lying?
I don't know. But all I do know is, first she said she didn't see a face, then suddenly she saw a face, and of course, it turns out to be this guy All right. who's plastered all over television.
Oh, Mom let us watch TV when you arrested that man.
He looks like a bad guy.
What do you mean, he looks like a bad guy, sweetie?
You know, scary.
DANNY: Boys, listen.
We've all arrested guys-- bad guys and scary guys, okay?
But you can't tell if a guy's bad or not just by looking at him.
I mean, we put a guy in handcuffs and we walk him in front of the news cameras, sometimes they look very scary, and it's really just because they're scared themselves.
Oh.
Dad, you want to weigh in on this?
Yes, I do.
The lamb was perfect.
HENRY: Too bad they didn't have lamb at your press conference, Francis.
Whoa, Poppy.
Just telling it like it is.
For what it's worth, sis, I think you're the one in the most difficult position here.
Oh, actually, it's the Haitian guy who's in the worst position here. I'm clearing.
I like these cabinets; they're original to the house.
Cool it.
I know you two are supposed to be all grown up, but humor me here.
Danny... what makes you think this guy is innocent? I don't know if he's innocent, Dad-- I just think with all the pressure on this case, the guy could use a devil's advocate on the inside. This guy gave us a clue that only a good cop would know, Dad.
Well, does that point you towards another suspect?
It opens the door to the possibility that maybe this wasn't just another street crime.
Erin.
He's got motive, opportunity.
The wife puts him practically tripping over the body.
I don't know why Danny wants to complicate this.
And I don't know why you're so hot for this guy. He's an ex-cop with a hard-luck story.
Sympathize with him all you want, just don't let it cloud your judgment.
I'm not.
Yeah, you are. Erin.
You can't undo what happened with Ian Boyd.
I'm not... Not with this case, not with any case.
You think I'm rehashing that here?
Two felony murders, grieving relatives--
you tell me.
You're not gonna back off of him, are you?
If he's the guy, I want him as bad as anybody else, including you.
And if he's not, I'd love some solid evidence.
You'll get it, by the book.
I'll hold off on the indictment.
Well...
You know, when Jamie was born, we tried to move you two into the same room.
You remember that?
Sort of.
Well, we couldn't afford it, but the very next day, your mom and I started looking for a bigger house.
True story.
Come on in.
You wanted to talk to me?
We, uh, just wanted to tie up a few loose ends, Mrs. Olson.
Will this take long?
I need to meet everybody to sign the transfer permit so we can take Lance's body home.
You know, we're just looking at this case from every angle, you know, before we wrap it up.
You see, all along, we've looked at this as a crime of opportunity, but we wanted to at least consider the fact that maybe it wasn't random.
What do you mean?
Well, maybe somebody wanted to harm your husband--
business associate, an enemy?
Lance doesn't have any enemies.
Hmm. JACKIE: So, this morning we revisited your husband's phone records, especially while he was here in New York, but we decided to go back a few months, and there's a lot of calls to a, uh, Carl Perry.
Carl?
He and Lance did business together.
You're not suggesting he had something to do with this?
You know, Mrs. Olson, this would be a really good time for you to be frank with us.
You see, when we accessed Carl's phone records, we noticed a lot of calls to your home at times that your husband's calendar show he wasn't there.
JACKIE: And your credit card records show three weekends at a Hotel Mandolin-- pretty romantic place, and you weren't with your husband.
We have the hotel confirming right now that you were actually with Carl.
DANNY: You want to talk about it, Mrs. Olson?
My husband was away so much, so consumed by his work, and Carl... he thought he was in love with me.
(sniffles, sighs)
It was so wrong and-and stupid, but I broke it off and I swore to myself I'd make it up to Lance.
That's what this trip was about.
I asked you before, do you really think Carl could do something like this?
No, it's impossible.
Well, jealousy is a strong motive, Mrs. Olson.
You never really know what someone is capable of.
JACKIE: Thanks very much for coming.
Come with me.
(sighs)
What's up? Is he sweating?
Well, he's trying not to show it.
You get anything useful out of her?
Well, they met at a dinner for Lance's biofuel investors.
Apparently there was a spark she just couldn't ignore, and then at that Hotel Mandolin, where the two of them Yeah, yeah. were canoodling last year, she learned that Carl was a junkie for champagne and breakfast in bed and, uh, partial to bacon, extra, extra crispy.
All right, let's see if we can use it.
Mm-hmm.
This list of Lance's business associates will be very helpful. Thank you.
You're welcome.
One other thing.
You're a pilot. I mean, you pilots--
y-you prepare for emergencies, right?
You do, like, dry runs.
You don't want anything to happen that you're not prepared for.
Right, so hypothetically if you wanted to k*ll someone, say someone like Lance, you'd probably do a dry run, wouldn't you?
What are you saying?
Well... No, this is crazy.
I don't have to hear this.
You're going to hear everything I got to say.
Why would I k*ll Lance?
Because you love his wife.
That's what Margaret's telling my partner in the other room.
In fact, she's saying a whole lot of things about you.
Let's see, she's talking about the Mandolin Hotel and champagne, breakfast in bed, and how you like crispy bacon and, uh, yeah, talking about the dry run you did.
Here's a receipt.
It's your receipt from one month ago--
the same restaurant where Lance was k*lled.
Imagine that.
I came to N-New York on a business deal and I met with Ray Lawrence and we went to dinner.
Why don't you ask him about it?
I did.
He said you chose the restaurant.
I don't know where to eat around here.
He suggested a few places and we decided on this one.
So how about the waiter--
the waiter who you asked where somebody would go if they wanted to smoke?
Lance smoked, didn't he?
So I come from Iowa to New York and I eat at the same restaurant and I have a smoke.
What's that prove?
(bangs table)
I'll tell you what it proves.
It proves everything that Margaret is saying--
that you wanted to be with her and you wanted to have Lance's money, too.
I know what you're trying to do.
Do you?
(door opens)
How's it going in here?
Well, that's up to Carl here.
You got a big decision to make, Carl.
Your girlfriend's in there saying that you planned the whole thing and she begged you not to go through with it.
Isn't that her story, Detective? In a nutshell, yeah.
She's very convincing.
Oh, yeah, she had to be convincing.
I mean, she convinced you to k*ll her husband and she convinced two seasoned detectives that her sob story was true.
It'd be a real shame if she pulled this one over on you, too, Carl.
You're lying to me.
You're trying to manipulate me.
(sighs)
Okay, so Margaret gets her freedom and Lance's money, and you get 25 to life.
Unless, of course, you got some information that contradicts her story
'cause we could just recommend that you're the one that gets the deal here.
(door opens)
I really need to get back to the hotel.
No, you really need to sit down for what we have to say to you.
Sit down.
Your boyfriend Carl has been chatting it up in the other room.
He just confessed to sh**ting Lance.
Oh, my God.
Carl sh*t Lance?
Why?
She's good, huh?
(sighs)
Remember this?
You recognize it?
It's Carl's phone.
Wow, that's the first honest thing you've said.
DANNY: What about this?
You recognize this?
MARGARET (over phone): It's done, babe.
You'll fly my sister here, everyone will feel so sorry for me, and then we'll be home free.
(sighs)
That isn't what it sounds like.
Sure, it is-- it's your voice, and there's plenty more where that came from.
JACKIE: You traded in Lance for Carl, except Carl-- he had an ace in the hole.
He kept a few choice messages of yours.
All that happy anticipation about spending Lance's money, just without Lance.
You know... I really hate when people do bad things and blame it on my city.
I want a lawyer.
That's the second honest thing you've said.
Get me a lawyer!
(sighs)
Just needs your signature.
"For immediate release.
"The police commissioner today reluctantly announces the unexpected resignation..."
Long planned resignation.
"...long planned resignation of Deputy Commissioner of Public Information Garrett Moore."
I know what it says.
I particularly like the part right here about
"exploring new avenues."
Makes unemployment sound... exciting.
Glad you approve.
"Signed, Frank Reagan, Commissioner."
All in all, much better than the last one.
Do you have a pen?
(sighs)
It pains me to do this, I want you to know.
Patrick.
Duignan neat, water back, on my pal here.
You cheap bastard, on my salary?
At least you still got one.
Oldest story in the book, you know.
The lovers k*ll the husband for his money.
You came here to gloat?
Well, I could.
That'd make me a lousy brother, though.
On the other hand, if I came to tell you that Nicky was with Linda and the boys and I got us a corner table at Chops, well...
I could use a scotch and a steak.
I figured you could.
Since I kicked your ass this time.