04x06 - Personal Effects

[bunniefuu]

[ Sighs ]

Louie, honey, is this painting special to you?

Not if you want to get rid of it.

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

Patrice, uh, what are you taking pictures for?

This designer friend of mine said that he would help us redecorate.

Oh, uh... [ Chuckles ]

I thought we were just getting rid of my stuff to make room for some of yours.

A little update won't k*ll you.

My friend stages houses to help them sell better, and we are getting a huge, huge discount.

Discount?

Mm-hmm.

H-hold on one second.

What... w-what's this?

Well, they look like hunting decoys with lampshades mounted to them.

Patrice, I-I've had these lamps for over 30 years.

Okay, look, how about you keep just one of them?

[ Telephone rings ] What?

Patrice, we... we can't split them up.

Uh, ducks mate for life.

Patrice: Well, we'll ask Goodwill to sell them together.

Hello? Uh, oh, yes.

It's Flynn.

Please, God. Tell me you have a m*rder.

This was found a few weeks ago now by a 7-year-old girl hiking a trail off Mulholland with her dad.

She thought it was a dinosaur bone until her father started screaming.

Hollywood division was brought in to search the area, and they found these remains.

Seem to all be from the same body.

Indeed. Male. 40s.

Perfect teeth... At least his uppers.

And the numbers correspond to the location on the map where each bone was found.

Right.

Most of them were scattered by animals across the area, roughly a mile in diameter.

And we're buying this from Hollywood because?

Well, for starters, Mr. Box-of-bones here was, uh, sh*t in the head.

Well, at that angle, it could be su1c1de.

The b*llet wound was not what caught my attention.

There was no I.D. at the scene, so Dr. Morales ran DNA.

I got a hit back from a r*pe kit filed two years ago.

Flynn: Victim's name is Kelly Press... 27 at the time of her sexual as*ault.

So... so, in order, Mr. Box-of-bones r*pes Kelly Press.

Now, a year later, uh, last August or September, someone maybe put a b*llet in his head.

Now, another year passes, and we find ourselves standing around his bones in the morgue.

Something like that, yes.

Looking at the size of the entry, what is that?

A .22?

Very probably.

And judging from the fracturing, the b*llet sh*t into the skull was at point blank.

Now, just to be clear, I can't list m*rder as the cause of death.

Even though the g*n was not found by the body?

What body?

So, Captain, I'll find out if our r*pe victim or anyone in her family has a registered w*apon.

Please do. Thank you... Lieutenant.

Um, Captain, I-I hate to suggest forcing this young woman back through her sexual as*ault, but...

No. Sadly, Kelly Press is the logical place to start.

Uh, let's see if she's available for a visit.

I used to teach second grade, but after it happened, there were a few months I didn't really leave my apartment.

School finally had to let me go.

How long have you been working at the r*pe treatment center?

A little more than a year.

Helping people recover from sexual as*ault made me feel less vulnerable.

We understand that you've purchased a g*n since the as*ault.

A little .38.

And our guy was sh*t with a .22.

It's in my purse.

She could have bought the .22 on the corner.

I took lessons, too.

Sounds like she'd know how to use it.

Thought it would make me feel safer. [ Scoffs ]

Why do you care about that?

Ms. Press, we were hoping you might walk us through the details of what happened the night you were...

I've been over this several times.

And we've read your statement, but maybe there's a chance your memories have changed.

I doubt it.

Sharon: You told the detectives that your attacker put something in your drink.

Because I blacked out. Yeah.

And I've never done that before.

Was it a drink this man bought you?

Yes.

I was at a bar, getting stood up by some blind date that I had arranged online.

And...

There was this guy... Handsome, a little older.

We started talking.

[ Voice breaking ] He was nice.

He asked to take me to dinner.

[ Chuckles ]

My lucky night, right?

I should have known better.

You remember leaving with him?

No.

When I came to, I was...

In the backseat of his car.

My... my pants were pulled down, and he was...

I couldn't move.

I told him to stop, but he didn't, so I just...

I focused on the air freshener swinging from the rearview mirror.

It smelled like vanilla.

After he was done, he turned on the radio...

Opened the sunroof, called me babe, and he drove me home like nothing happened.

Tao: In her original statement, Kelly said the as*ault occurred in a white four-door BMW, but she did not mention a sunroof.

What if Mr. Box-of-bones was driving that car when he disappeared?

Then he left it somewhere and never come back for it.

So what happened to it?

Excuse me, Buzz.

♪

We ran a search for all white BMWs with sunroofs that have been impounded between the last 9 and 12 months.

Mike.

11 vehicles matching that description were towed in the county of Los Angeles.

Sanchez: All of which were claimed by their owners within 72 hours, except one.

Owned by this guy, Tate Harrison.

And get this, Captain.

He's officially been missing since last September.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

Okay, let's keep our fingers crossed.

[ Coin clinks ]

Ms. Press...

I want you to prepare yourself for a moment, okay?

This may be upsetting.

Okay.

Ready?

You recognize this man.

That's him.

That's the man who r*ped me.

Okay.

[ Elevator bell dings ]

Oh, Rusty, uh, thanks for meeting me.

Oh.

Yeah, no problem.

Uh, Lieutenant Provenza, this is my friend T.J.

I'm borrowing his pickup to move your stuff faster.

Ah, your friend.

Uh, great.

Uh, here's the key to my front door.

Change of plans.

I want you to move all of my stuff to this unit at L.A. Store-it.

It's about five blocks from my house.

But if Patrice comes home and asks, then I want you to say that you're still taking everything to Goodwill.

So you're starting out your new life with Patrice by lying to her?

I won't be lying to her. You will.

Besides, what if they move in together and it doesn't work out and he gave away all of his stuff?

Exactly. Thank you.

Yeah, you see, what's his name here... he gets it.

Oh, and I've got these two large lamps that look like ducks.

Yep. I've seen them.

They're hideous.

You know, just because you're gay doesn't make you an expert on interior design.

I am putting one of those ducks on each corner of my desk.

Huh?

Oh. Here's the $150.

$150? You told me $200, Lieutenant.

Fine. Fine.

By the way, you know that date your mother went on with Flynn while I was off?

How'd it go?

Why?

Well, 'cause they've started calling each other "Captain" and "Lieutenant" again.

So?

Well, aren't you curious? I thought you were a journalist.

I thought you were a detective.

You're friends with Andy.

Ask him, all right?

And that's the way you talk to someone who just gave you $200.

Fine. [ Elevator bell dings ]

Fine. Fine. Fine.

Nice to have met you, Lieutenant.

Yeah, sure.

Just be careful with my stuff.

His body fit in one box, and his personal effects in another.

Couple of nice pens, a high-school graduation ring, child's baseball glove, compass, some books.

That all?

Well, the apartment came furnished, and his landlord sold everything else because Harrison was behind on rent, ma'am.

Yeah, well, it might have looked like the victim left town.

This baseball glove is too small for Harrison, it's too new to be something from his childhood, and the name on it says "Stinger."

That's a nickname for a big hitter, ma'am.

Are there any children in Harrison's life?

Sykes: No, but he does have family and grew up in Santa Monica... Wealthy parents.

They have a successful sportswear business, managed now by Tate's older brother, Jonathan.

Tao: Parents, brother, yet Tate was reported missing by his landlord.

So he wasn't close to his family.

Not according to Facebook.

He didn't work with them, either.

Last summer, he was teaching surfing in Malibu, and the winter before that, he was a snowboard instructor in Mammoth.

Not a bad life if you can handle past-due notices for all of your utilities.

And, you know, he might have been sick.

Here's an outstanding medical bill for $800.

It's from a diagnostic lab.

We should send his death certificate to this lab and find out what this test was for.

Flynn: Could be rehab.

I mean, this is like a little mini 12-step library.

I have most of these books myself.

Tao: Tate Harrison's final credit-card purchase before he fell off the grid was last September 2nd...

A charge of $9.73 at Vermont Grinds... it's a coffee shop...

Uh, with an address one block north of fountain on Vermont.

Oh, right across the street from where Tate's BMW was towed.

Flynn: Yeah, that's two doors down from the largest AA meeting in Hollywood.

So you think that our r*pist was getting sober, Lieutenant?

Could be, Captain.

Uh... so, um... $9.73, you say?

Seems like a lot of money for one cup of coffee.

Or he was at Vermont Grinds with someone, sir.

Tao: I'll call the credit-card company, see if I can get a copy of the original receipt.

Flynn: Okay, listen to this.

"Dear Tate, congratulations on your first 90 days.

Keep coming back. It works.

Mark Sudduth."

Sykes, is there a Mark Sudduth among his Facebook friends?

Well, let's see.

What about Harrison's family, ma'am?

Well, they didn't contact us when he went missing.

We can... take a moment to notify them.

Something in there that piques your curiosity, Captain?

Oh.

I always wonder, what kind of life did someone lead that their personal effects end up in our m*rder room?

Uh...

Mark: He may have misjudged many things in life, but there's no doubt Tate is an alcoholic.

Took him six years to get 90 days.

Not unheard of, but he went the long way 'round.

Would you say this time he was, uh, working the program?

Maybe. He was a retread.

A guy fails in his commitment once... that you expect.

A guy can't commit four or five times...

Maybe it's not gonna happen.

There's no .22 registered to this guy or to Tate's brother, Jonathan, either, ma'am.

Well, why make it easy for us?

Given his all to step nine, which is a bitch.

Step nine... making amends to everyone you offended while using.

Mm. I've been on the other side of an amends once or twice.

In my experience, saying "I'm sorry" doesn't always get you off the hook.

Did Tate put together a list of people he wanted to apologize to?

There were 20, 25 names. Sure.

Do you remember anyone specifically?

I know his family was on it, and from what I could tell, they weren't too open to his apology.

Last time I saw Tate, he looked like a punching bag.

Well, who'd he fight with?

His brother Jim or Jon... Something like that...

Okay, now we notify the family, starting with Jonathan Harrison.

But he didn't want to talk about it.

Flynn: And when was this... Last time you saw him?

Uh, mid-August, maybe.

Did you talk to him after that?

No. No, I didn't.

Someone you're sponsoring gets into a fight, disappears, and you don't think to check on him?

Tate didn't disappear.

I did.

It was right about that time that I, uh...

Had a slip.

Took me a couple weeks.

[ Sniffles ]

Sorry.

You know, 20 years in [Chuckles]

I thought I knew all the places I had gone wrong, and I didn't.

It happens.

Certainly does.

My ex moved our son to Florida last June.

That's when I fell off.

I haven't seen him since.

How old is your boy?

13.

Does he play baseball?

No. He plays bass guitar.

Why?

I-is Tate in some kind of trouble?

What do you think?

Did you ever go with Tate to Vermont Grinds?

Sometimes, before or after meetings.

His last bill was for a latte and a mint tea.

Sound about right?

Not a lot of mint-tea drinkers at our meeting.

Maybe West Hollywood or Beverly Hills.

Tate would have a latte sometimes.

And lots and lots of red wine... The cheaper, the better.

Hello.

Sanchez: Mr. Harrison, this is Captain Raydor and Lieutenant Provenza.

Captains and lieutenants. Wow.

Tate's moved up in the world.

So, what is it this time?

D.U.I.? Cocaine?

I thought Tate had sobered up.

Yeah. See, they... they try to fool you by not drinking, but addicts are addicts, manipulating emotions, playing on hopes, lying, stealing.

If a r*pist stops drinking, what you get is a sober r*pist.

So, what's he done now?

Do you recall your last visit with Tate?

Was he different at all?

He asked stop by a few days in advance... unusually thoughtful.

He claimed to have been sober for a month, so that was different.

Uh... he started off talking about apologies, and he sounded really sincere.

But you don't think he was.

The second after I told him we'd try to work through it, he's back to the same old, helpless Tate...

Behind on his rent, overdrawn with the bank, his utilities about to be shut off.

Did you offer to help him?

I offered him a job, which is what I told my parents I'd do if he ever cleaned up his act.

But work...

Tate didn't even think about it.

His life was all about the great outdoors.

Well, that's where we found him.

Provenza: Then what happened?

How did you end your visit?

Is that what this meeting's about?

Why you read me my rights?

Because of what I did to Tate?

What did you do to him?

Before he left, I caught him going through my wife's purse, and I-I lost it.

I b*at him up. [ Clears throat ]

Told him I never wanted to see him again.

See, I wasn't gonna let him do to my mom and dad, who are enjoying their retirement, what he'd done to me.

See, they're on that list of people he showed me...

Everyone he owed an apology...

But he wasn't really sorry about anything.

Do you remember anyone else's name on the list?

Only the one I gave him.

"Hey, Johnny, help me out.

There's this woman who used to work for us.

I owe her an amends."

Bullshit.

Who was the woman?

Mallory Greggs, a clothing designer...

Mallory Greggs... that should be a fairly easy name to find.

Stealing from his own family.

So he's not just a r*pist.

He's criminally versatile.

Sociopath.

So, what's the deal? I mean, what has Tate done?

Lieutenant Provenza will explain it to you.

Thank you for your help.

Provenza: [ Clears throat ]

Mr. Harrison, your brother disappeared early last September, and we're trying to find out what happened to him.

So if you should hear from him, let us know.

We found one Mallory Greggs. Address in Melrose Hill.

She's pretty interesting.

Why do you say that?

Husband owns four g*ns registered to his name.

One's a .22.

Well, it's not enough for a warrant, but it's definitely worth a visit.

Mr. Greggs?

Yeah?

Detective Sanchez, L.A.P.D.

This is Detective Sykes.

Is your wife around, sir?

No, she's at work.

Olivia: Daddy, your turn.

I'll be there in a sec, honey.

Um, maybe she can call you?

She works during the day now.

Daddy!

Sweetie, one sec. Daddy's talking.

Hey, are you police?

We are.

Tim, please.

Do you want to leave a card or...

Sir, do you recognize this man?

No. Why?

That's mommy's friend.

Sweetie, I don't think...

He gave me a cookie.

Shut up, Livvy.

Look, I don't know that guy.

Sorry. Anything else?

The .22-caliber p*stol you have registered to your name...

Is it in the house?

May we take a look at it?

W-what?

Can we look at your g*ns, sir?

Do you have a search warrant?

Look, I don't know what this is about, but I'm busy right now.

Come on, Olivia. Tim.

Sorry not to be more helpful.

♪

[ Dog barks in distance ]

[ Camera shutter clicks ]

Are you sure this is going to be okay with your mom?

Oh, yeah, yeah. She'll understand.

All right.

See you tomorrow, then.

Okay.

Oh, and, uh, text me if you hear from that guy who was calling Alice.

I will. Yeah.

Bye.

Oh.

Oh, hey. [ Chuckles nervously ]

Sharon, um, this is... This is my friend, T.J.

Nice to meet you.

It's nice to meet you, T.J.

Are... are you... are you just coming in, or are you...

Uh, no, no, no. I was... I was just leaving.

Okay.

Bye.

Bye.

[ Door closes ]

He seems like a very nice young man.

I hope he didn't leave, you know, because I came hom...

Oh... oh, my God.

Oh, what is this?

Uh, Lieutenant Provenza, he... he paid me and T.J. to bring all the stuff Patrice didn't like into storage.

And... and... and, then, why is it here?

Well, the... the unit he rented was way too small, and we couldn't take it back to his house, because Patrice thinks it's all going to Goodwill.

And it's not because?

Because, I guess, if living with Patrice doesn't work out, he'd still want his old furniture?

Well, it can't stay here until he figures all that out.

[ Cellphone chimes ] Uh, no.

I-I already talked to him.

Uh, he's renting another unit, and this will all be gone tomorrow.

So... although, if he's that uncertain, maybe he should rethink the whole thing, huh?

Well, once you've been in a... a long-term relationship or... or two, you know something about how risky they are.

I mean, a romance can suddenly upend the whole balance of your life.

It can interfere with family and friendships and your job, and when you're young like you and T.J., you think that love conquers all...

I'm not... I'm not, um... T.J. Is just a friend. That's all.

Well, sometimes friendships can [Clears throat] grow into something more.

Thanks for the warning, but he's... He's not even out to his family yet.

And if he's not being honest with them, I...

Hey, how do you think Patrice would feel?

Hmm?

If she knew the lieutenant was keeping stuff from her?

That is a very interesting question.

Keeping secrets makes the people we love seem less trustworthy, doesn't it?

[ Doorbell rings ]

Ah. Oh, good morning, Mr. Greggs.

Um, I'm Lieutenant Provenza.

We are with the Major Crimes division of the L.A.P.D.

[ Chuckling ] Um, we still don't have a search warrant, but I was hoping that you would sign this consent form, allowing us to enter your...

No. Absolutely not.

I discussed this thoroughly with my wife last night.

I don't know why you guys are trying to intimidate us, but you are not coming into our house.

Well, since you're still on the fence about it, what do you say we play a little game?

You answer no to our questions, we'll all go away.

What questions?

Does your wife drink mint tea?

D... w-what if... what if she does?

A lot of people do. I drink it myself sometimes.

Ah. That's good to know.

Uh, w-w-wait. We have one more question.

Does this, uh, baseball glove look familiar?

It has the word "Stinger" written across the back.

Hey. Dad, I told you I didn't lose it.

Tim, go to your room.

But, dad!

Now. Take Olivia with you.

Tao: Eventually, we'll find enough evidence to enter your house.

Now it's just a matter of how long you want us to wait.

And how mad you want us to be when we walk through your door.

You know, maybe you know everything, and maybe you don't.

You did answer our questions, so if you'll let us just take a little look at your firearms, we'll answer yours.

[ Keypad beeping ]

Where's your .22, sir?

I don't know.

I looked for it yesterday after you guys were here.

It's... it's missing.

Sir, with two young kids in the house, we should really locate that w*apon.

It's not here. I searched everywhere last night.

Who else has the combination to this safe?

No one.

Well, in that case, maybe we should leave patrol officers to finish the search and invite you and your kids downtown to talk about this problem.

Problem? What... what problem?

The missing g*n?

You said you'd tell me what was going on!

I did?

Oh, well, but before we get into that discussion...

Julio.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will be used against you.

I already told you.

I don't know why the .22 is missing.

I can't explain it.

Yeah?

Well, prior to last night, when was the last time you, uh, opened the safe?

I don't know. A while ago.

Before my wife went back to work full time.

Since I took over with the kids, I don't get a chance to go to the range anymore.

All right, let's go back to this guy for a moment.

He came by your house?

He didn't come by my house.

Really? Well, your daughter seems to...

My daughter is 7.

She thinks she's a mermaid.

She said that she met him, and Tate had your son's baseball glove.

How do you explain that?

I don't know.

I don't know.

[ Door opens ]

The boy says his glove disappeared last summer.

His father thought he lost it.

And both kids said that Tate Harrison dropped by several times while their father was out.

No sign of the .22, though patrol did find some mint tea in the kitchen.

Mint tea? [ Chuckles ]

That's hardly a smoking g*n.

All right, so, uh, what are we thinking here?

That... that Tate Harrison wanted to make amends to Mallory Greggs for something he had done.

Maybe he r*ped her. Maybe he stole from her. Who knows?

And Mallory took his apology the wrong way?

How do you apologize for a r*pe?

He didn't apologize to Kelly Press.

Maybe he couldn't remember Kelly's name.

You think maybe he and Mallory were having an affair and Mr. Greggs found out about it?

Well, that still wouldn't explain the baseball glove being at Harrison's apartment.

Sharon: Yes, how does something from one person's house mysteriously end up at someone else's apartment?

Tao: Maybe the wife can tell us.

And she might also be able to explain all the calls she made to Harrison's phone.

I put her in Interview 1.

[ Door closes ]

My God, this has all gotten so out of hand, really.

I haven't seen Tate in almost a year, and he only came by the house once... to apologize.

Apologize for what?

Right out of college, I was a design assistant for his family's clothing label, and Tate embezzled some money, and he made it look like I did it.

r*pist, thief, embezzler.

And his father fired me.

I wonder if there's any way to arrest the victim.

Sharon: Did you accept his apology?

Yes.

I mean, losing that job caused me all sorts of problems.

And, look, even though his father figured it out eventually, it was a very upsetting episode in my life, and I just wanted to forget the whole thing.

Is that why you never told your husband that Tate had come by the house?

Exactly. I mean, there was no point.

What Tate did happened so long ago.

Why you care about it all these years later...

Tao: The reason we care, Mrs. Greggs...

Someone sh*t Tate in the head with a .22-caliber handgun and dumped his body off Mulholland Drive.

And your husband's .22 is missing.

Are you sure... that you only saw Mr. Harrison once?

I'm positive. Oh, my God.

So all these calls between you and Mr. Harrison from the last two weeks of August...

Those are just heavy breathing?

We're particularly interested in September 2nd, because that's the date that Tate Harrison went missing.

He called you at 12:09.

You called him back at 12:58.

A few hours later, Harrison made his last purchase at Vermont Grinds...

One latte, one mint tea.

But who was he drinking the tea with...

Mallory or her husband?

Sharon: You can make it easier on yourself, Mrs. Harrison, or you can make it harder, but we're going to get to the truth.

You want to get to the truth?

Okay.

Let's start over.

But this time, I want my lawyer.

How are we gonna get to the truth if we start involving lawyers?

Of all the defense counsels in Los Angeles, Mallory had to call Linda Rothman.

This'll take forever.

She's making the suspect cry.

Well, probably showed her a bill.

[ Door opens ]

Hey, Lieutenant.

Oh.

What do you want me to do with these?

What are those?

Lamps!

What do they look like?

Things that should be kept in the dark.

Ah. Right over here.

Right here, by the TV.

Wait.

You're putting them in here?

I am.

Finally, this place is gonna get a little personality.

Yeah, it seems older and crankier already.

[ Door opens ] D.D.A. Meeks is here.

Oh. Out, please.

And, uh, send me Tao and Sykes.

Uh, you're welcome.

Sharon: I understand you're a little under the weather.

Rothman: Don't worry. It's not contagious.

I'll be fine. Ms. Rothman, I've brought the D.A. up to speed as to where we are with your client.

Robin.

Linda.

I gather Mrs. Greggs wants to make a statement of facts.

Is that correct? [ Scoffs ]

Actually, Robin, after debriefing my client and examining the evidence, we could make three entirely different statements of facts.

The version Mrs. Greggs wants to share with you today, against my advice, would be in exchange for manslaughter.

Eight years... No negotiating.

Uh-huh.

Well, before we go to all that trouble, if Mrs. Greggs tells me she brought a g*n when she met Mr. Harrison at Vermont Grinds, that's premeditation...

And, at best, m*rder two.

Oh, but there are mitigating circumstances.

What? Self-defense?

She has a family.

She's lived an exemplary life.

She's never been in trouble with the law before.

I want manslaughter, or you get nothing.

[ Sighs ]

Robin, it's all hypothetical, anyway.

Why don't we hear what Mrs. Greggs has to say?

Now, see, that is so sensible.

And after you hear the story, I just know you're going to agree with me.

Mallory?

I lied to you earlier.

I didn't forgive Tate for what he'd done.

I was on the fast track at Hillhurst Apparel.

They said that I would probably make creative director in five years.

But getting fired for stealing that money...

You told me Tate's father figured out what happened.

Years later.

The damage had been done.

And when Tate showed up at my house that day to apologize for the way that he'd ruined my life, it just came flooding back.

And when I didn't forgive him, he started stalking me and threatening me, too, saying that I was compromising his recovery.

So...

I decided that I would meet him at that coffee shop.

When he wasn't looking, I slipped a lot of Ambien and Valium into his latte.

And before it could take effect, I asked him to go for a ride with me.

And when he passed out, I...

Sounds a lot like what Tate did to Kelly Press.

Doesn't explain the baseball glove.

Meeks: Look, before you go on, Mrs. Greggs, you've just admitted to first-degree m*rder.

So manslaughter is completely off the table.

You'll regret that.

But before passing on my offer, why don't you try corroborating her statement?

You'd be required to do that regardless of what plea we settle on.

What?

Something's not right.

Uh, Sykes, we need Tate's brother back down here now.

Rothman: Don't worry, Mallory.

Everything you've said here is completely hypothetical until we agree on a deal.

Please, go check with her former employer.

I'm gonna wait.

Jonathan: No, Mallory wasn't fired...

For stealing or for anything else.

She attended my parents' Christmas party her first year and never came back to work.

She never even returned our phone calls or...

She k*lled Tate?

Why?

We don't know.

But since Tate didn't get her fired, what other reason might he have had to apologize to Mallory?

Look, um...

I had some complaints about him over the years.

Oh, God.

Did these complaints have anything to do with sexual as*ault against women he drugged?

I should have reported him to the police.

I know, I know. But I feel horrible about it.

I...But my parents... It would have k*lled them.

I-I didn't know about Mallory.

I didn't know.

And she had just gotten married, too.

It's horrible.

[ Tapping on glass ]

You know the medical test our dirtbag victim never paid for?

Okay, he wasn't sick at all.

He stole the kid's glove and swabbed it for DNA in order to do a paternity test.

On Tim Greggs.

And it came back positive, ma'am.

Tate Harrison was Tim's biological father.

God.

Our victim came back to make amends to Mallory for r*pe... sober...

Sees the boy.

Let me point out that having sex...

r*pe is not sex. You can't prove r*pe.

There's no contemporaneous evidence that the sex between Mallory Greggs and Tate Harrison was not consensual, and you're making assumptions based on...

The way she drugged the guy...

It's what Tate did to the other girls.

We talked to one yesterday!

Detective.

Look, maybe you've put the story together properly, but maybe you haven't.

I have questions.

And there is someone present that we can ask.

I think you recognize this medical statement proving that Tate Harrison was the father of your child.

No, it's not true.

I don't know what you're talking about.

We could repeat this test.

Would you like us to do that?

Please do.

It'll prove that the victim r*ped my client and...

No.

I told you I didn't want to do that. No.

I will plead guilty to m*rder.

Look, you can't tell my son any of this... ever...

Or my husband, either.

I don't know what Geoffrey would do.

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

All right, we're back in purely hypothetical territory here.

I will let my client speak, but you can't use any of what she says in this second statement of facts until we have a plea agreement.

Okay. Okay.

Are you admitting that Tate Harrison r*ped you and that he is the biological father of your son and that is why you k*lled him?

It was more than that.

Tate, he...

He wanted visitation rights.

He said that he needed our son.

He called him "our son."

He thought that if he had a son, then his parents would give him a share of the company.

He wanted to be Tim's other father.

[ Inhales deeply ]

Do you think I could ever leave my son alone with that man?

You don't know.

Son of a bitch.

We do know.

Okay, let's just confirm a few details.

When and where did the sexual as*ault take place?

Mallory: Uh, uh [Sighs] at a Christmas party at his parents' house.

He must have slipped something into my drink, because I don't remember how I got in his bedroom.

But when I came to, I was...

I don't know how to talk about this.

I'm sorry. I can't talk about it.

I've never known how to.

Please.

Well, we have to talk about the kid, because you got pregnant.

Geoffrey thought that it was his, and I hoped it was, but as Tim grew older, I could see what had happened, and so could Tate.

When he came over to the house that day to apologize, the second Tim walked into the room, he was... he was thrilled.

Like, "why didn't you tell me?"

Like it was something that he was proud of.

[ Sniffles ]

And now I formally withdraw both of her previous statements, and you will release my client without any further unnecessary delays.

And why would we do that?

You have no w*apon.

You have no b*llet.

You have no witnesses.

The preliminary autopsy states that Tate Harrison was k*lled by a contact wound to the head, so you don't even have cause of death.

Without my client's statements, your entire case is just a box of bones.

Therefore, in my considered opinion, when your so-called victim met Mallory for tea and she declined his offer to be an extra father, Mr. Harrison, in a fit of well-deserved despondency, hitched a ride up to Mulholland Drive and sh*t himself in the head.

She's already confessed.

Hypothetically.

And that confession is withdrawn.

Okay, let's go back to the manslaughter plea.

Sorry. I've lost my spirit of cooperation, and you have no evidence.

And I'm gonna give you the next 15 minutes or so to figure it out, but if you try to hold my client beyond that, well... I love a good civil suit.

Don't you?

Okay. Let's go.

[ Door opens, closes ]

Meeks: Here's my problem.

I can't prove my case based on motive.

I need evidence.

Which we don't have.

And the .22 caliber is just a best guess.

And no cause of death.

We can't even say for sure it's a m*rder.

We may know the truth, but we can't prove it.

And until we can...

We have to let Mrs. Greggs go.

So, doesn't it bother you that this woman's getting away with m*rder?

We decided not to see it that way.

To us, she's only getting away with manslaughter.

But would we even be here today if she'd reported the r*pe?

Tate Harrison d*ed because a suspect wanted to keep a secret from her husband.

And that bothers me.

It just does.

♪
♪

[ Keys thud ]

Patrice: Louie?

Hon?

[ Footsteps approaching ]

Hey.

Come here, come here.

Come in.

Okay, all right.

Now, I haven't had the time to get everything the way that I want it, but my friend, he came, and he staged the living room and the kitchen, and if you like it, it's all ours.

Provenza: Ah.

Uh... [ Clears throat ]

Well...

Here are my problems... in order.

[ Sighs ]

Um, it's, um, not what I'm used to.

Mm-hmm.

A-and it's not cheap.

And I didn't pick it out.

And I like it better than anything I have ever had here.

Really?

Oh, yeah.

Yeah, I do.

It just...

It looks great.

Yes!

Ah.

But now my poor, old recliner doesn't fit, does it?

Yeah. Uh, I was wondering about that, too.

But since you got rid of your duck lamps for me, I thought I would give your chair a facelift.

Ah.

I thought a nice, soft leather might do.

Leather?

Yeah. What do you think?

My treat.

Oh, your treat?

Mm-hmm.

[ Chuckling ] Oh, well, you know the way to my heart.

Yes. [ Laughs ]

Patrice, I, uh... [Clears throat]

There's something that I need to tell you.

Oh?

About my duck lamps and my other stuff that you tagged.

It's okay, Louie.

I know that you paid Rusty to put your things in storage.

He told you?

[ Laughing ] No.

No, but his... his cute, little friend said that he didn't think everything would fit where they were taking it.

And then rusty just hopped all over him, saying he was certain that Goodwill had a warehouse.

And it was really kind of funny watching them walk it all back.

You don't mind?

Mind? [ Breathes deeply ]

I put my things in storage, too.

I mean, what can I say?

You just never know. Right?

So, you trust your partner, and you cut the cards.

That's just how I roll, baby.

[ Chuckles ]

Mm.

Oh.

Oh.

[ Laughs ]