02x06 - Rebel Without a Pause

[bunniefuu]

Forward, march!

[ Drum b*ating ]

Halt! Make ready!

Aim! Fire!

Fire!

Forward! March!

[ Indistinct shouting, drum b*ating ]

Halt!

Make ready!

Aim!

Fire!

Forward! March!

Halt!

Aim! Fire!

Making croissants seems daunting, but really it's as easy as making coq au vin.

To think it takes two days.

Mm-hmm.

Hey, Julia Childs, I could buy a tube of those crescent things and serve 'em to you in 20 minutes.

No! Throw it to second! Come on!

W-why are you yelling? You can't change the outcome.

Really?

[ TV turns off ]

Gee, I thought I could.

That would require crossing the space-time continuum.

Go get the hand vacuum and clean up your couch crumbs.

Ma, I'm trying to relax.

Okay, and we are trying to get ready for a guest.

Help out.

Come on, Maura, you're gonna give yourself an ulcer.

All right? It's not royalty. It's your mom.

Ulcers are caused by H. Pylori, a bacteria.

Or critical mothers.

I'm not critical.

Am I?

She's never been to my house before.

Angela: Never?

Well, what do you do when she visits Boston?

We just usually go to one of my parents' homes in Europe.

Those tulips are wilting already.

Yes, I could see why you're so ashamed of this hideous place, and forcing her to stay in that disgusting guesthouse.

What are you talking about?

It's lovely.

Wait a minute.

If your mom is in the guesthouse, where are you staying?

With you, of course.

[ Smooches ]

Fine, but just know I don't serve coq au vin.

I serve...Cocoa Puffs.

[ Laughs ] I know.

[ Cellphones vibrating, ringing ]

Rizzoli. Isles.

Okay. I'll be right there.

I'm on my way.

[ Sighs ]

I haven't even had a chance to pre-order the organic pig's trotters.

Are those feet? I'm not eating feet.

I'm gonna leave you the butcher's number.

Sure.

[ Sighs ] Come on.

You should change.

All right. I'll change in the car.

Then I'm driving.

Oh, come on. I hate it when you drive.

Well, I hate it more when you undress and drive.

Bye, ma.

Rizzoli & Isles - S02E06
Rebel Without a Pause
Original air date August 15, 2011

Jane: All right, okay, it's sort of a screwy hobby, but I used to love this Rev w*r reenactment stuff.

I mean, it bugged me that they wouldn't let women be minutemen, you know.

Thousands of women served as laundresses, nurses, seamstresses.

Gee, how fun is that?

All right, what do we got?

Probably a stupid accident.

Before everyone realized he wasn't faking it, the whole thing was probably over.

Just takes one g*n nut smuggling in live a*mo.

Found his I.D. in his powder horn.

City I.D. Gabe Buckner, 27.

He was a garbage man.

Maybe it wasn't an accident.

Maybe somebody wanted him dead.

Perhaps it was someone who didn't like to recycle.

Was that a joke?

Only if it's funny.

That's an odd-looking entry wound.

What is that? Is that a musket?

Hmm. There's no exit wound.

Hmm. Unusually ragged edge.

So, stabbed from a bayonet?

Colonial militia didn't use bayonets till 1778.

Maura, sh*t or stabbed?

Or did somebody chew on his hip?

Oh, I don't think that's from a bite.

Uh-oh. Cavanaugh's here.

Oh. This is a paid tourist attraction.

City's full of 'em, celebrating Liberty Days.

Fascinating. He was a smithy.

Blacksmith.

Maura, it's pretend.

Perimeter's secured. What next?

I'll have a coffee-- two sugars, black.

Oh. Make that two.

Oh, cappuccino, please.

But only if there's 1% milk.

Good thing you're not picky.

Hey, I'm trying to make detective, not become a barista.

Bro, you know how many coffee runs I had to make working my way up?

Nothing for me, but if you hustle those coffees, I'll let you help me with witness statements.

Deal.

Hey, I'll handle the media.

We don't want to panic the tourists.

For now, it's an accident. Got it, people?

Yes, sir.

Put your backs into it, men!

What the hell is this meathead doing?

Rizzoli, get him out of here?

Yeah.

Move it forward!

Ho, hey, ho, ho!

It's a crime scene. You can't be here.

I was merely attempting to move this a*tillery piece out of your way.

Commanding officer General Ezekiel Parker of the 16th Brigade.

I'm Martha Washington.

Let me see your driver's license.

Sure. Of course.

Dwayne Cravitz? Yeah, no wonder you went with "Parker."

It is such a pleasure to meet you.

Dr. Maura Isles.

Professor Cravitz is a leading authority on colonialism.

I'm a huge fan.

You're a huge fan of colonialism?

No, of course not.

He's also the chair of American History at Boston Cambridge University.

Good doctor, your words flatter me.

[ Chuckles ]

I like your pretend accent.

It's quite authentic.

Colonial Americans spoke rhotic English in a variety of regional dialects -- Scots-Irish, west country-- where is the coffee?

I got something better.

Detective Rizzoli, this is Maggie McGee.

That's her boyfriend over on the ground.

I know this is difficult, but we do need to ask you some questions.

Are you kidding me?

I want these w*r freaks to pay for what they've done.

Was your boyfriend having any problems with the other reenactors?

I'll say.

Was there anyone specific who might have wanted Gabe dead?

Oh, yeah. All of them. They called him a "Farb."

"Far be it from authentic."

[ Scoffs ]

Just 'cause his uniform was a poly-cotton blend.

Even his buttons weren't historically accurate.

You believe that?

Buttons?

Just when you thought you'd heard every motive.

Penetrating injury to the articular surface of the femoral head.

He bled out.

Huh. Say, doc, I was...

[ Clears throat ]

I was wondering if...

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Buddy of mine's been having some chest pain.

Didn't you just have a physical?

How'd you know it was me?

Doctor says I'm fine. So why am I short of breath?

I've been eating better, getting some exercise, and I feel worse.

Are you experiencing dizziness, light-headedness?

Maybe a little.

I want you to see a cardiac specialist.

Hey.

Ballistics unit checked the reenactors' weapons.

They're all replicas.

There's no sign anyone used live a*mo, at least not in the muskets.

Hmm.

Some kind of a projectile perforated the iliac artery.

Copper-jacketed --

not from 1776.

Sheared off. Looks like a .22 caliber to me.

There appears to be a dark granular substance on the exterior.

Transfer. That b*llet ricocheted.

So our sh**t wasn't aiming at old Gabe here.

Well, if Gabe was collateral damage, then who was our gunman trying to k*ll?

So, we could be looking for a sn*per.

Korsak: Wonder why he just sh*t once.

Why's he sh**ting once if Gabe wasn't his target?

There are 48 reenactors -- 24 patriots, 24 redcoats -- all of them were at the mock battle.

These guys are all clean. No one has a criminal record.

We didn't find any other b*ll*ts at the crime scene?

Just the one Dr. Isles dug out of the dead guy.

So again, if our sh**t missed his target, why didn't he take another sh*t?

Not like he couldn't.

Loud mock battle -- easily cover the sound of g*nf*re.

What the hell are you eating?

Bean chili and a side of zucchini.

Don't ride with him. Oof!

Since when did you become a vegan?

A who?

More like a what-- it's the practice of eliminating animal products from your diet.

[ Scoffs ] Give up burgers?

That's like asking me to give up my sailboat.

How can you be this big animal lover and eat their flesh?

I'm a complicated man.

[ Chuckles ]

What do you got?

I've identified the substance on the b*llet.

It's ferrous oxide.

Jane: Iron. Look at the ping mark.

Well, I can't confirm without more tests.

Okay, folks, we got confirmation.

The b*llet that k*lled Gabe ricocheted off this iron cannon.

Now, if we can figure out who was standing around the cannon-- we can figure out who the sh**t was aiming at.

Laser will help us determine where the sh*t came from.

Let's go.

Online shoe sale about to close?

I'm plugging in empirical data to back-extrapolate the pre-impact orientation of the b*llet.

Okay. See that laser? It does the same thing.

I'm very good at trigonometry.

What a relief.

So once I input the type of b*llet, approximate the density of the cannon, it appears the sh**t was 243.84 centimeters off the ground.

What, you mean up there?

Excusez-moi.

There we go.

Okay, can you give me a boost?

O-okay.

Maura, no.

Frost!

I can get the crime-scene techs here, all right?

Oh, no, I was best tree climber year 6 at my boarding school.

Detective Frost, can you hand me my kit?

Yeah.

Here you go.

You look ridiculous.

I'm collecting forensic evidence.

Give me ridiculousness or give me death.

Jokes are supposed to be funny. Remember, Thomas Paine?

Patrick Henry.

Korsak: Hey, found something.

Frankie, give me your hat.

Don't you want an evidence bag?

No. Give me your hat.

Come on.

[ Parakeet chirps ]

Hey. Hello, Starsky.

Jane: Starsky?

We're looking for a sn*per who's sh**ting people in public parks.

You want to hurry it up, Sergeant Dolittle?

Well, come on, Jane. Starsky deserves a chance.

I found something!

What is it -- Hutch, the injured squirrel?

Torn skin embedded in the bark.

There's something else in there.

Hold on.

Thick, dark-brown, oily substance.

Cosmoline. g*n oil.

Used for storing and preserving firearms.

That's a good position for sh**ting someone.

But why'd he fire only once?

He didn't.

Found a second shell casing.

Stove-piped. That's why he stopped sh**ting.

His g*n jammed.

Okay, who was standing around that cannon?

Professor, I need to know who was positioned in the immediate vicinity of the cannon.

Our regiment engages in improvised tactical demonstrations.

So spectators feel a certain authenticity.

Mm-hmm.

Which means you don't know.

w*r is hell, detective Rizzoli.

Pure unadulterated chaos.

Good tip.

Uh, were there any problems between your members?

My men are after freedom, not each other.

Enoch Byrd is a farmer.

Josiah Hall is a cobbler.

And Archibald Chestnut's a blacksmith.

Archibald was a garbage man named Gabe Buckner, and he's dead, which is why we're here.

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Nicole, you may, uh, put the tray on the desk.

Sugar was a true luxury item in 1774.

Imagine what they would have charged for Splenda.

None for me, thank you. Please.

It's part of Nicole's education as a PhD candidate.

I'm professor Cravitz's teaching assistant.

Please, allow me to serve you.

Women were domestic slaves during colonial times.

Thank you.

Laundry lady, nurse, seamstress, or domestic sl*ve.

[ Laughs ]

So many choices, and they all sound like so much fun.

I teach my students that the way to understand a culture fully is to experience it firsthand.

I'll have some. Thank you.

I'm pretty sure there are laws against sl*very.

Shh.

Thank you. That'll be all.

Do her parents know they're spending $50,000 for their daughter to learn how to serve tea?

$57,600.

[ Scoffs ] It's an honor, Jane.

You know, only top students are offered teaching-assistant positions.

Well, it's a massive waste of their money and her I.Q. points.

[ Cellphone vibrates ]

Hello?

What?!

No!

Yes!

Um, o-okay.

Okay. Thanks.

Bye.

U.P.S. lose your shoes?

No, it's my mother. She's a day early.

She caught a ride on a friend's jet.

Those pesky jets.

Oh, my God. What am I gonna do?

[ Breathing rapidly ]

Well, first of all, stop doing that.

Pig's trotters take two days to marinate.

Oh! And we're in the middle of a case.

What do I do?

Vasoconstriction. Hypocapnia.

Okay. Please, get ahold of yourself.

Come on. All right.

Korsak: Can you find a nice place in the kitchen, maybe play a little soft music?

Of course, sergeant.

Starsky?

Yeah, he's in good hands with me.

Hi.

Getting some coffee.

Caffeine increases blood pressure.

Oh.

Jane: Is Stanley around?

No. He took a personal day.

Good. Can you cook a three-course dinner here?

Eleven.

Eleven?!

Hors d'oeuvres, potage, poisson, entre-- sandwiches, peanut butter and fluff, or take-out.

What about relevé, sorbet, roti, legume --

Oh, sure, Maura. We'll just call Stanley in.

[ Breathing rapidly ] Okay.

Chef Renault.

Chef Renault from Maison De La Mer-- he will help.

You just tell him that it's for me.

Sure.

Goodbye.

Oh, hey, Frankie. Got your hat.

Thanks.

Just got off the phone with a reporter who's about to go live with the sn*per story.

Oh, come on!

Every nut job with a dialing finger is gonna be calling in with a tip.

[ Telephones ringing ]

Yeah. It's gonna be a long night.

I better let the boys upstairs know about this.

Crap. I'm supposed to be at Maura's.

Hey! You want some more practice at detective work?

You want pizza or a sub?

I want you to answer my phone for me.

Sure. No worries. I got it.

Yeah?

Thanks a lot. I owe you one.

Good night, guys.

Frost: Good night!

Boston Homicide. Korsak speaking.

My mother is famous for her dinner parties.

The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Oh, no. I couldn't possibly live up to her.

I mean, she'll spot take-out in a second.

Stop worrying!

[ Door opens ]

You're the perfect daughter.

[ Exhales sharply ]

And you're late.

Oh, I'm not perfect. Darn.

Cannolis.

[ Gasps ]

What are you doing?

We already have dessert.

Besides, cannolis aren't sophisticated.

Well, neither are we. I got 'em for you.

Oh.

You got them for me? Yeah.

You're the perfect daughter.

[ Doorbell rings ]

Oh. Okay.

Okay. Go.

Okay. Don't worry.

You look beautiful.

Hello, mother.

Hello, darling.

You look well.

Thank you.

Jane: Mm-mmm.

Country mice, meet city mice.

Angela: Oh, my God. She's gorgeous.

Stand up straight, Jane.

Oh, crap. I got cannoli oil on my shirt.

Hello! Hello!

Next month, I'm going to be lecturing in Stockholm, Sweden, on the objectification of the female form in post-w*r modernism.

I find that fascinating.

What do you know about post-w*r modernism?

I know a lot about the objectification of the female form.

Good point.

Elbows off the table.

What? Oh. I thought I was perfect.

Did I tell you that your father is going to join me in Zagreb, for the German expressionist festival?

That's so great that you found time in your busy schedule to come to Boston and visit your daughter.

Oh, well, I'm actually here for an installation opening.

Oh. What are you installing?

Sorry?

Remember when I told you about my mother's modern art installation?

Let's have dessert.

I made poire belle helene-- your favorite.

Try the cannoli. They're my ma's favorite.

[ Exhales sharply, sighs ]

Je m'excuse, mais je suis trés fatiguée.

She says she's sorry.

She's tired. Yes, I know.

I didn't know you spoke French.

I read body language.

[ Thud ]

It was lovely to meet you both.

You too.

Um, I thought you were staying.

I-I prepared the guesthouse for you.

Darling, didn't I mention that the gallery organized for me to stay at the Ritz?

And I already checked in.

Of course.

But I will see you tomorrow evening for the welcoming dinner, and you'll be my date.

Sounds lovely.

Please come to the opening.

Just call the gallery and have them put you on the list.

The list? Yeah, sure.

Bonsoir.

Bonsoir.

Ma.

Wow. She is...

So, uh, put together.

She's hard to get to know.

Well, I think I got a pretty good idea.

[ Clatter ]

Ma, really, with the pots and the pans.

Cincinnati can hear you.

See, you could have that for a mother -- nosy and loud.

And warm, involved.

Grass is always greener.

Yeah.

You know, I used to dream that I was adopted.

Really?

Yeah.

And my pretend mom was chic and glamorous and educated.

I always wondered what it would be like to have a mother who cut the crusts off my sandwiches.

Annoying.

[ Cellphone rings ]

[ Beep ]

Rizzoli.

Where?

I'll be right there.

Come on. We got another sn*per sh**ting.

Oh, God.

[ Sirens wailing ]

Same casing as our Rev w*r sh**ting --

.22 caliber.

If it's the same sh**t, what's he doing here?

I don't know, but we got another dead man.

He wasn't sh*t. He d*ed of cardiac arrest.

That's still m*rder.

I'll do what I can to play it down.

How are we gonna play down a sn*per on the loose?

I don't know.

Are you okay?

Yeah.

Heartburn.

Martin: As you can imagine, Liberty Days are really taking a b*ating because of all of this, and officials say that it's fear over the Boston sn*per that's keeping people in their homes.

The big question now is where is this guy gonna strike next?

"Boston sn*per." Come on.

I think they should call him "the sn*per who couldn't sh**t straight." [ Chuckles ]

Get it? Because he keeps missing?

Yeah. That's a... Good joke, Maura.

Really?

Oh.

Oh.

Well, there's no indication of cardiac disease.

The stress from the g*nshots triggered a heart att*ck.

Great, so we can charge our sn*per with two homicides-- one by ricochet, one by fear.

Who is this guy?

You know, sn*pers sh**t to k*ll.

This guy's missed people both times.

Is he trying to send a message? What?

Message is perfectly clear -- "I need target practice."

[ Laughs ]

Okay. You do your job so I can do mine.

Yes. Of course, detective.

Maura, I'm sorry.

It's not you.

Is it your mother?

[ Sighs ]

It's just-- it's hard to have her here and not see her.

You know, when I was little, I wanted to be with her all the time.

I wanted to be on Mars-- alone.

[ As Angela ] "Jane, did you do your homework? Jane, did you clean your room? Jane, Jane..." [ Normal voice ] She lives to hover!

Woman was a helicopter mother before they even invented the term.

Come on.

Let's get you ready for your artsy-fartsy dinner with your globe-trotting mother.

Frost: Got the ballistics back.

Definitely the same amm*nit*on in both sh**t.

Get this -- the b*ll*ts are at least 30 years old.

That'd explain why the g*n jammed.

a*mo's too old to trace where it was purchased, but look at the ballistic's fingerprinting.

Yeah. Air force issued them to pilots between '59 and '73.

It's compact, three-piece --

Easy to smuggle into a Rev w*r reenactment without anybody noticing.

It's a long sh*t, but check the m*llitary records.

On it.

All right.

[ Cellphone rings, cellphone vibrates ]

Hello?

Hey, ma.

Oh.

What's up?

Sure.

All right. Calm down.

Of course.

Okay. I'll be right there.

Bye.

[ Cellphones beep ]

My mother's having a bird emergency.

Mine's changing dinner plans.

Come on. Let's go help.

Oh, I went to go check up on Starsky after the lunch rush.

You took care of a sick parakeet around food?

Of course not!

I put him by a sack of yams in the pantry.

You've got to help him.

Sergeant Korsak will never forgive me if something happens to him.

Can you get me a bowl of hot water and some towels?

Okay.

Okay.

Can you really save him?

No.

I just didn't want your mother to see him die.

Looks like avian flu.

Avian flu?! What the hell?!

Well, you can only contract it if you ingest his feces or give him mouth-to-mouth.

Stop.

Korsak's here.

Hey. Any break in the case?

Maybe.

Rev w*r reenactors are gonna give Gabe the garbage man an 18th-century wake tonight.

Great. Okay. We should go.

Uh, yeah, yeah. I'll catch up with you.

I just need to check something.

In...the kitchen?

Oh, all right. It's Starsky.

It's cold up there, and Frost doesn't like him.

He can feel it.

Well...it's a bad time.

Uh, ma is giving him a bird bath.

Oh.

But the wake, we should go.

Ah, well, we got to wear period costumes, or they won't let us in.

I have wonderful contacts at the historical society.

Well, no, you can't go. You have dinner with your mom.

Oh, no, you don't.

She called to cancel, didn't she?

It's not her fault.

The dinner was a private affair -- no guests.

You're not a guest. You're her daughter.

You should come with us.

Okay? It'd be great to have your...

Historical society contacts.

Yeah.

Yeah. See ya.

Where's Starsky?

He's dead?

And you put him in your -- ugh.

Where's ma?

I told her I'd take care of him.

You lied.

No. No, I just didn't say that...

I was "taking care of" his funeral arrangements.

[ Slow instrumental music plays ]

I can't believe I let you talk me into wearing this.

I don't think this thing's been washed since 1776.

You're not used to the linsey-woolsey fabric.

I told you to wear the silk polonaise.

Oh, yeah, the whale bones digging into my boobs would have been much more comfortable.

The wig's kind of scratchy, but we totally blend in.

Yeah. Totally.

Parker: You're just in time.

We're about to begin the eulogies.

Frost: The victim's girlfriend's here.

[ Tapping ]

Let us raise our tankards high...

In memory of a great and noble...

Garbage man.

Spirit.

It's like we've stepped back in time.

Maura.

18th-century beer sucks.

[ Laughs ]

You made a joke!

The crimson fountain has opened.

Let every man gird himself for battle, but be not afraid, for God is on our side.

g*n!

[ g*nshots ]

Go, go, go!

[ Tires screeching ]

Nothing. You?

Jane: No.

Who was he after?

I think we got a witness.

You saw something?

Oh, yeah. The whole thing.

I go out for a smoke, and all of a sudden, there's all these bangs, like...

Bang! You know?

The g*nshots. Yeah, that's it.

So I look up, and there's this car speeding off.

Great. Okay. So you saw the car.

Oh, yeah. I got a good look at it.

It was white.

The most popular car color-- great.

I'll pull the surveillance footage-- compare it to the other crime scenes.

Yeah. Get everybody in bric to help.

Look for every white car in the area near the sh**t.

Thank you.

He starts by sh**ting at a group of reenactors at Olmsted Park.

Then he goes after shoppers on Newbury Street-- seems random.

Then he tries to hit the reenactors again at the wake-- not random.

But the three sh**t don't make sense.

What if the Newbury Street sh**ting was staged to keep us off the reenactors?

So he could come back and finish the job at the Irish bar?

Yeah, that's what I'm thinking.

I'm also thinking we should find this guy before he strikes again.

[ Computer beeps ]

Think we just got lucky.

Got a white Chevy that was in the vicinity of Olmsted Park during the Rev w*r reenactment.

That same car was also near the Irish bar.

Nice work.

Car's registered to Kathleen Dunn of Dorchester.

She's got a record-- food-stamp fraud.

Doesn't sound like a k*ller. Let's go talk to her.

[ Dog barking ]

[ Engine stops ]

We're looking for Kathleen Dunn.

She's inside.

Woman: Who are you?

Boston Homicide, ma'am.

Benjamin! Get in the house -- now!

Kathleen! Get your butt out here!

[ Sighs ]

Homicide?

Ah, the Virgin Mother and All the Saints, what the hell she do this time?

Just want to talk to her.

Is that your car?

Kathleen: Why?

Routine follow-up. That's all.

I don't know. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.

You always have to have such a smart mouth. Answer the damn question.

Why don't you mind your own business, ma?

Why don't you lose the mouth?

Take her off my hands.

I thought my mom was tough.

Save it.

You're not making a personal connection, and I'm not spilling my guts.

You people are fishing.

We're being polite, Ms. Dunn.

We happen to know that car is registered to you.

We can and will get a search warrant.

If you had enough to get a search warrant, you'd be handing it to me.

[ Door closes ]

Gee, you think she knows the system?

That Kathleen is one smart cookie.

She knows we don't find probable cause, we're not getting near her.

She goes after the same group twice, then stages a random sh**ting.

She's either after somebody in the group...

Or she's a whack job who enjoys watching us run around.

Your mother's a regular Florence Nightingale, Jane.

It's a miracle what she did. Starsky's never looked better.

Starsky's better?

You look surprised.

Me? No.

Yeah, she does have a healer's touch.

Yum. What are we eating now?

What is that, dirt-covered styrofoam?

Oh, low-carb, gluten-free, high-fiber.

Ew. No, thank you.

Why are we so fancy?

I am going to my mother's gallery opening.

Wow. She gonna put you on the list?

We can get in.

Who's "we"?

Oh. How long have you been eating these?

Couple weeks.

Part of my whole new health regime.

[ Laughs ]

It's not a heart att*ck, Sergeant.

What?

What?

It's gas.

Given the fiber content, I imagine quite a lot.

[ Laughs ] He's been making enough to float the Hindenburg.

Hydrogen gas was unfairly blamed for that.

Human gas is actually a mixture-- hydrogen, carbon dioxide, methane.

Most people produce about a half a liter a day.

[ Laughing ]

Well, exactly how much fart gas is Korsak making?

Probably twice that amount.

[ Chuckles ]

Okay, would you rather I had a heart att*ck?

Just stay away from those crackers and beans, and you'll be fine.

I was hoping you would go to the installation with me.

Oh...God, Maura, I-I wish I could, but...No.

She-- she loves modern art.

You know what, Jane? We got this.

You go.

Korsak: Yeah, go.

We know how much you like these fresh ideas and crazy colors and cubes and things.

Oh, I'm so glad you've opened your mind to it.

Yeah.

You two have fun, now.

Thanks, guys.

[ Bell chimes ]

How did Starsky make such a miraculous recovery?

Luckily, the pet store carries parakeets.

[ Classical music playing ]

[ Indistinct conversations ]

I'm sorry. This is a private gathering.

Oh. This is Dr. Maura Isles.

She's the artist's daughter.

Yeah.

Really?

She couldn't even be bothered to put you on the list?

She was busy. She said she'd try.

Yeah. I don't see you.

You see me now? Detective Jane Rizzoli.

Yeah. Go ahead.

[ Scoffs ]

Hanging water bottles is art?

It's an iconic representation of the deconstruction of our food chain as a symbol of neo-urbanity.

I could do that.

Yes, but then it wouldn't be art.

Hello, darling. You made it.

Jane: Sorry we had to crash.

Your daughter wasn't on the list.

Oh, sorry. Sorry.

Mother, it's exquisite.

It's both witty and full of pathos.

It is, isn't it?

Oh, it is.

So nice to see you again, Jane.

You too.

Maura, would you mind getting us something to drink?

I'd love to get to know your mother better.

Um, sure.

Excuse me.

Nice of you to come.

Thank you.

I love your hanging water bottles.

They make me feel very guilty, and I'll never buy water again.

[ Chuckles ]

I-I can see why Maura likes you.

You're direct. It's kind of refreshing.

I'm protective. Maura's my best friend.

I sense that there's something you'd like to say to me.

Yeah. There is.

I don't like seeing my best friend hurt.

You think I hurt her?

Not staying with her, canceling dinner, "forgetting" to put her on the list of your installation?

Yeah, I think that hurts her.

She's the chief medical examiner.

She has her own life.

You're both out there working an important case.

It's all over the news.

I don't want to be in her way.

She must know how proud I am of her, how much I love her.

Not really the signals you're sending.

It seems to me like you were too busy while she was growing up, and now you're blaming her for being too busy --

I was -- I was never any good at it.

At what?

Being a mother.

I feel like I just... I missed so much.

Why don't you just tell her that?

So sorry to interrupt, but our patrons are waiting for your speech.

Would you excuse me?

[ Cellphone ringing ]

[ Beep ]

Korsak. What do you got?

Found a connection between the Rev w*r group and Kathleen Dunn.

Frost: She was Cravitz's T.A. at BCU.

Kathleen Dunn went to BCU?

Yeah. On a full ride.

She dropped out as a freshman a month after she filed a r*pe charge.

Anything to it?

Korsak: Seems like it.

Campus police did a r*pe kit, but it was never processed.

Did she name her r*pist?

Yeah. Cravitz.

All right. Thanks. I'll be right there.

[ Beep ]

Jane, what is it?

Well, it seems like 18 years ago, our suspect claims that she was r*ped by one of the Rev w*r reenactors.

Which one?

Professor Cravitz.

This is bullshit.

You better not have torn apart my house.

Nobody tore apart your house, Kathleen.

We did find these, though.

Valedictorian. Full scholarship to BCU.

Everything going for you.

Until you became professor Cravitz's intern.

I didn't do anything.

You filed a r*pe charge against your professor, but you didn't pursue it.

That was a long time ago.

We have your stepfather's m*llitary records from 1967.

He was issued an AR-7 Armalite r*fle.

Fires .22-caliber b*ll*ts, same as our sh**t.

Why, Kathleen?

Why go after Cravitz 18 years later?

I'm not saying he didn't deserve it.

Why try to k*ll your r*pist now?

Korsak: You worried about your house?

I guarantee we will turn your life inside --

I wanted to change history...

But you can't.

That man ruined my life.

[ Bell chimes, doors open ]

Jane! I got the DNA results back from the skin that we found on the tree.

Yeah, we just got a full confession from Kathleen Dunn.

But the DNA was male.

You're sure?

Yes.

My gut said that was too easy.

Nobody rolls over that quickly unless they're covering for someone.

Korsak: This is not your brother, Kathleen.

Yes, it is.

Jane: Ben is your son.

He was born nine months after you reported being r*ped by your professor.

Ben doesn't know the truth.

He will never know.

He knows, Kathleen.

He knows you're his mother and Dwayne Cravitz is his father, and that's why he tried to k*ll him at the Rev w*r reenactment.

He's smart. Tried to throw us off the trail at Newbury Street.

Until he could try again.

And that's when he fired at Cravitz outside the Irish bar.

No. No. Ben has an alibi.

His friends were throwing him a going-away party.

I can prove it.

You figured out what Ben was up to --

you made sure he had an alibi.

Jane: Because you knew he wouldn't stop until he k*lled his father.

And that's why you were gonna do it for him.

That was you outside the Irish bar, wasn't it?

Yes.

Yes, it was me. It was all me.

Where is he? Where's Ben?

This is all my fault.

I should never have told him.

But he kept asking me questions about his father, and I thought he was old enough to know the truth.

How do you tell a child his father is a r*pist?

[ Crying ] Please.

It wasn't him.

He didn't do it.

I did. Just...

He's on his way to a better life.

He's going to college.

Where is he, Kathleen?

He's gone.

I took him to the airport this morning.

What do you want to bet Ben didn't get on that plane?

Hmm?

Parker: Greetings, fair citizens, and welcome to our monthly Town Hall meeting.

As you know, the colonists were angry about the writs of assistance, which they argued violated natural rights described by John Locke during the Enlightenment.

Do you have a question, young lad?

Yes. What about my mother's rights?

She was your student...

And you r*ped her!

[ Students gasp ] Hey, Ben?

Hey. Put it down. All right?

Come on. Don't do this. Think about your mother.

Hasn't she suffered enough?

Get away from me! Wait a minute.

Listen to me, okay? I can help you.

All right? I can talk to the D.A.

I can tell him it was an accident.

You didn't mean to hurt those people.

It won't make a difference.

It will.

It will, Ben.

Okay? The truth will come out.

Let this man live with what he did for the rest of his life.

No! No! Please!

Please let me sh**t him!

You don't understand what he did to my mother.

All right, Ben.

[ Sobbing ]

No. No.

You cannot believe how healthy Starsky is.

Yeah, didn't you find he had more turquoise feathers after he recovered?

[ Light thud ] Ow!

[ Clears throat ]

What's the matter?

Gas...pains.

Really?

Mm.

Maura: Wow. My mother's here.

I thought she was in Paris.

She forgot to say goodbye.

Constance: May I join you?

Mother.

[ Chuckles ]

What a lovely surprise.

Hello, darling.

I couldn't go without seeing you one more time.

Sit.

Um, here...

Oh, don't worry. I'm not that fussy.

[ Laughs ]

Here.

Oh.

Strange. Wonder where Maura gets it.

[ Clears throat ]

You like greasy hamburgers?

Actually, I'd love a hamburger. It's been years.

Oh, good, 'cause this place has some really good ones after the health department shut it down.

The health department? Mm-hmm.

Mom, it's a joke.

She likes to kid.

Milkshake.

I haven't had one for ages.

Oh, God, I love them.

Really? I-I didn't know that.

No?

I-I would like one. Strawberry.

Since when do you like milkshakes?

Since now.

All right. I'm having a beer.

A beer milkshake?

Yes. Uh, yes.

A beer milkshake.

It's what all the mooks here in Boston drink.

Okay. She's kidding. She's kidding.

It's another joke.

[ Laughs ]

Oh. Oh.

[ Chuckles ]

Well, I can certainly see the family resemblance.

Well, I can see the family resemblance, too.

You do?

Yes, the two of you are so much alike.

[ Light thud ]

What is it?

What is it?

Nothing.

Nothing.

[ Chuckles ] You want a peanut?

They're really good.

Thank you.

Have someone come by and shell them for you.