08x04 - Uncle

[bunniefuu]

In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as The Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.

I was a block away writing up a guy for urinating in public.

When I received the 10-54 to this location.

Who called it in?

Dispatch said a concerned coworker, Sean Darringer.

Male or female?

Uh, not sure.

He or she said Ms. Travino didn't show up for work today.

Requested someone check in on her.

It's not even noon yet.

It's a little early to panic.

Actually, it was too late.

Super let me in.

I found them in here.

Them?

There's more than one?

Gabriella Travino and her daughter lllaria.

r*ped and tortured side by side.

You ever hear anything this freaking sick?

What is that, packing tape?

Wrapped tight.

No way to breathe.

He just looked at her face while she suffocated.

Hands are bound.

Breasts and genitals slashed.

A sexual sadist gets off on pain and humiliation.

Doesn't track that he'd cover them after.

Is this how you found them?

Officer?

They were both naked.

I was trying to be respectful.

Got the sheets from the linen closet.

She can't be more than ten.

Got something in her fist.

Detective, come over here, please.

Detective, put on your gloves and come over here, please.

Full rigor's set in.

That means he k*lled them at least 12 hours ago.

Shouldn't we wait for the M.E?

No.

Hold her wrist.

Come on now, honey.

I know you got something.

Give me a dog tag.

It's a crucifix.

The monster's religious?

Little girl didn't pull it off her k*ller.

It's her mother's.

She was reaching for her.

Must've grabbed onto it.

Maybe it gave her some comfort.

She was praying for help.

It never came.

Law & Order: SVU
8x04 Uncle

Original air date: 2006/10/10

Where are we, detective Beck?

I just needed some fresh air.

I'll be fine.

I meant, where are we on the double r*pe homicide?

No doorman, but it's a security building.

Perp had to be buzzed in.

Not unless he lives here.

We've got a call in to the landlord for a list of all the male tenants.

Or mom could've been unlocking this door.

He comes up behind her with a w*apon.

Well, she's never taken a self-defense class.

Doesn't know to do this.

She freezes.

Perp blitz att*cks her through the door.

Big risk of being seen by a neighbor.

Not if he slipped in behind her, then att*cked her as she entered her apartment.

What do we know about the victims?

Single parent mom.

According to the neighbors she was quiet.

Had no boyfriends, no frequent visitors.

Worked as a receptionist at a law firm.

Criminal defense?

No, business litigation. But... take a look at this.

A lot of hardware.

She desperate to keep someone out.

For a single mother living in the city, that's pretty standard fare.

They don't look new.

But they do look well-used.

No sign of forced entry.

Which takes us back to the likelihood she knew her attacker.

Or maybe the little girl did.

I can't imagine the man who did this ever being a friend to either one of them.

Who was the primary target, the mother or the daughter?

Vaginal trauma is more severe on the child, but that's due to her prepubescence.

Every sick thing he did to one he did to the other.

Any chance there's more than one perp?

DNA would tell us, but there's no sign of fluids.

He wiped them down with bleach.

Knew enough to cover his tracks.

This is not a beginner we're dealing with.

He's probably already in the system.

Good news is, the tape he used is the same kind we use to collect hair fibers and fingerprints.

If he left any, we'll find them.

Just so you know... everybody loses it their first kid case.

I'll get used to it.

Welll...

When that happens, transfer out.

No answering machine.

Metro bell.

It's past due.

No wonder.

Gabriella didn't make much money.

This is a pay stub from the law firm of Folsom, Young, and Klein.

Law Offices of Folsom, Young & Klein 124 West 33rd Street Monday, September 18

Yes, I'm the one who called.

Gabby was so reliable.

I knew something had to be wrong.

Was somebody threatening her?

No.

As Gabby found out the hard way, life can be short, so why don't you just jump to whatever it is you're holding back?

Her daughter lllaria was hospitalized with asthma last year.

Gabby couldn't pay the bills, so they sent her account to collections.

Collection agencies hound you to death.

They don't m*rder you.

Isn't a firm this big required by law to provide health insurance?

Gabby worked a 32-hour week.

Technically, she wasn't full time.

So they used a loophole in the law to screw her out of her health care.

I felt bad, so I let her borrow from petty cash.

How much she tap it for?

About 500 a month.

But she always repaid it before they reconciled the accounts.

Which happens today.

Gabriella had to come up with that money over the weekend.

How was she gonna get it?

I don't know.

She never took him up on it but...

Gabby said her landlord was always offering to subsidize her rent.

She was a beautiful girl living hand to mouth.

I offered to do her a favor.

A favor is when you help someone without asking for anything in return.

You offered a tenant free rent in exchange for sex?

In America it's called quid pro quo.

On the NYPD, it's called solicitation.

Well, she never did me, so no harm, no foul.

You sexually harassed her!

Hey, don't touch me again, bitch!

Hey, look, why don't we all settle down?

You never had a boyfriend pay your bills?

No.

You ever been married?

Larry, sit down.

So you banged a guy for a few years, and now you collect a big fat alimony check, don't you?

My husband's k*ller is doing life in Attica.

Maybe you would be cellmates.

I'm gonna put this in my locker.

Psycho!

So how much of a discount did you offer to have sex with her ten-year-old?

No, no, I am no pervert.

Well, tell me, Larry, do you have keys to every one of your tenants' apartments?

Gabriella only turned me down because she found a sugar daddy with deeper pockets.

Really?

Who would that be?

I don't know.

I saw them going out the door two Saturdays ago.

All I heard was, "outside the office, you don't have to call me Mr. Williams."

Manhattan Tennis Club 346 Eighth Avenue Monday, September 18

Gabriella Travino and I weren't dating.

He means no one at his firm knows they were having an affair.

Yeah, they have that pesky policy against it.

Think of the potential liability involving the power differential.

Like an attorney and a receptionist?

I'm a first year associate.

With my student loan debt, he net worth was probably bigger than mine.

Gabriella was desperate for money.

She try to blackmail you, Mr. Williams?

She never asked me for a penny.

I feel terrible about what happened, but one of the partners set up this match with a new client weeks ago, so...

Ask for a rain check.

You need to come down to the precinct with us.

No, I don't.

I did go to law school, you know.

Now if you'll excuse me.

Eh, just wait for him.

I'm not that patient.

Hey, guys. Sorry, I'm late.

How you doing?

How you doing?

And tennis bores me to tears.

So, um, no chance of us finding your semen on any of her clothing?

It was flirtation.

Once. Once.

We had sex in my office.

Well, we got a witness that puts you at her apartment.

A week ago.

She wanted me to meet her daughter.

I took them on a picnic.

She told me she was in love with me.

I'm 28.

It freaked me out.

How'd she take it when you dumped her?

I never got a chance.

Picnic ended when Gabriella saw a creepy old guy hugging the kid.

Her kid, Illaria?

Yeah.

She and her friend were handing out our leftovers to the homeless.

Illaria's playmate said not to be mean to the old bum.

He's their friend.

What did you friend in the park talk to you and lllaria about?

He never talked.

How often would you and lllaria see him?

Every day.

Why?

We brought him food.

Why would you do that?

So he could eat.

If he didn't talk... what would you do with him?

Did he ever touch you or lllaria?

No.

Lupe, you know that's not true.

He was hugging her.

You saw him do it.

It was just a hug.

That's how he said thank you.

Could you bring us to meet him?

Inwood Park 730 West 173rd Street Monday, September 18

It could've been us this happened to.

You should round up all the homeless and lock them away.

We don't know that he did anything, Mrs. Rojas.

You're not gonn hurt him, are you?

No, honey, we just need to talk to him.

Down here. We followed him.

Sometimes he sleeps in there.

You two wait here.

Anybody home?

Do we need a search warrant for a cardboard box?

Believe it or not, I think there's precedent.

But screw it.

It's full of rags.

Sir, could you please step out here?

Sir!

Dani, Dani.

Take a look.

He doesn't fit our profile.

Even if he wasn't too old, our k*ller's organized.

There's no way he could be.

Sir, it's getting late.

You're not allowed in the park after dusk.

He's got blood on his hands.

You hurt?

You got any weapons on you, sir?

We're gonna search you for weapons.

Is that all right?

I think that's a yes.

All right. Got any needles?

Sharp objects on you?

Box is wallpapered with newspaper clippings.

All of them sex crimes.

And a lot of them about kids.

Let's go.

Quite a collection you got here.

"Dad trades teen daughter for cr*ck."

"Man wearing George Bush mask pulls girl into alley,"

"sexually assaults her Halloween night."

At least she assumed it was a mask.

We never did catch that guy.

"prost*tute contacts police"

"after watching customer's home video of the r*pe of a child."

"Detective Elliot Stabler of Manhattan SVU said..."

The search of Edward Hasker's residence yielded numerous videos of children performing sex acts.

Did you save this article because you're a fan of my partner?

Or, um, were you a customer of this child p*rn?

"Man injected with HIV-tainted blood at sex party."

This guy we got.

Real sadist.

Maybe you went to one of his parties.

You into that?

Sexual sadism?

The sexually sadistic k*ller suffers from an overpowering compulsion to inflict pain upon his victims, both physically and psychologically.

It's not the act of inflicting pain, but rather the suffering of his victims that arouses him sexually.

Why do you have all these clippings?

There's gotta be a reason.

Was there gonna be a new clipping today?

About this little girl?

Where you going, pal?

Okay, let's take it easy.

Just take it easy.

You recognize that girl?

Girl from the park?

You trying to tell me you don't remember her?

The little angel who fed you sandwiches?

Who hugged you?

Who tried to help you?

You don't feel a little bit bad about how she d*ed?

Take a look at this.

Unlike the majority of serial K*llers categorized as anger retaliatory who typically commit their crimes quickly, the sadistic offender luxuriates in the entire process or m*rder and t*rture, often drawing it out for hours.

He is driven by fantasies.

He must totally dominate his victims.

He rationalizes his actions.

He feels no remorse or guilt.

And he is not moved by compassion.

He is most likely a white male from a middle class background.

He's cunning and accomplished at deception.

He will save media accounts of his crimes.

Look, pal, you're gonna help us out here.

You've got clippings from SVU cases.

All of them from Manhattan.

Now, why do you have them?

Why do you have them?

Say something!

I think...

I, I think... they tell me who I am.

Who am I?

You tell us.

Pedophile?

r*pist?

Sadist?

I think...

I'm supposed to be here.

Why?

Because of lllaria?

Ye, yes.

Why? Why her?

The victims were chosen in advance.

The crime was carefully planned.

In homicides, victims are mutilated for a variety of reasons.

For example, cut into pieces to dispose of the body or b*rned to conceal the identity.

However, if the perpetrator is a sexual sadist, the autopsy will show...

The wounds were inflicted pre-mortem.

40 cuts, and they felt every last one of them.

Cause of death asphyxiation?

Due to airway obstruction.

Tape came off a roll like this.

Acrylic, two inches.

Much too common to trace.

The tape was serrated at both ends.

I think he used something like this.

I bet we find one of those in his r*pe kit.

Along with a box cutter.

I'd say that's what he cut them with.

Tape, box cutter.

Maybe he's a mover.

I think he's a biter.

He made the cuts in an X pattern, but there are crescent-shaped wounds underneath.

He bit them, then slashed through the marks to cover his tracks.

I'm working on recreating the bite marks for you.

Let's go find a mouth to match the marks.

You might be looking for a guy with scratches on him.

Mom fought like hell.

Broke off two fingernails.

That must've hurt, huh?

You gotta keep this clean or it'll get infected.

What happened there?

I don't know.

That's convenient.

Stop picking at the scabs.

I'm just gonna clean it.

I won't lie to you.

This is gonna sting.

Guess he doesn't mind pain.

You enjoying that?

Listen, these clothes smell real bad.

I brought you a clean shirt.

You want to toss these out?

That okay?

Okay.

You should change the dressing tomorrow.

Try not to get it wet if you bathe.

Not that there's a big risk of that happening.

These are going straight to the crime lab.

What's wrong with him?

Why isn't he talking?

Most likely he has Alzheimer's.

If he's not demented, he's doing a hell of a job faking it.

Dani's all over the map on the Travino case.

She's got a homeless suspect at the hospital and the victim's landlord in the holding cell.

I thought the landlord's alibi cleared.

She's holding him on solicitation and coercion.

Hey, I'm being unlawfully detained here by some psycho chick d*ck named Dani.

I'll send her your regards.

She may be hot, but she's setting you up for a major lawsuit.

Hand him over to Vice.

Tell Dani that's not what we do here.

Captain, phone company sent over the Travino LUDs and a CD of her phone messages.

Listen to this.

Monday, 9:52 am.

Hi, I'm calling about the ad you posted at Meyer's market for a girls' 20-inch pink princess bike.

I'd like to set up a time to come and see it.

Gabriella was desperate for money.

She was selling her kid's bike.

Pink princess bike.

Tells the perp there's a little girl in the house.

Maybe he called and got her on Sunday and asked to come see it.

Normally cautious mom buzzes him into the building, unlocks her locks, and welcomes him right in.

He finds a beautiful woman and child all alone, att*cks.

There was only a couple of calls on Sunday.

This one's from a pay phone, so we can't trace the user.

We could dust the phone.

He wiped off the bodies, so he wiped off any prints.

He couldn't have wiped off the ad at the market.

Meyer's Market 598 West 176th Street Tuesday, September 19

Herbal viagra.

Lost cat. Car for sale.

There it is.

Pink construction paper.

"For sale, girl's pink princess bike."

With Gabriella's home phone number.

Only two tags are missing.

We know one is from the woman who left the message.

And hopefully the other one is from our perp.

Could you spray this, please?

I ran them all through AFIS.

Got one pop.

Brent Allen Banks.

Sexual as*ault record.

For a r*pe and kidnap he did 13 years ago when he was 17.

While his parents were out of town, Brent lured a 15-year-old girl to his apartment.

Tied her up.

r*ped and tortured her for ten hours.

She escaped naked, covered in bite marks.

Why isn't he still in jail?

First offense.

He was sentenced to 14 years.

He only served seven.

Let's grab Stabler and go pick him up.

Hey, crazy broad, what's it gonna take to get me out of here?

Who the hell put you in there?

Her. She's nuts!

Keys, I need the keys.

Taylor, open this up.

You know him?

Yeah, we're old buds.

Not him.

What happened?

What are you doing in New York?

What are you doing in here?

John, I don't think this guy knows you.

Who is he?

His name is Andrew Munch.

You locked up my uncle.

Well, that's great.

If you're Florida's premiere retirement community, I'd hate to see the worst.

How did my uncle end up in New York?

Uncle Andrew, come back.

Hey, watch yourself.

Sorry.

This guy reeks.

Meet Brent Allen Banks.

Maybe you should put a name tag on him so you don't mix him up with my uncle.

Yeah, well, they got me mixed up with someone all right.

I'm just here to clear things up.

Sit over here, Andrew.

Yes, I'm aware he wasn't in assisted living.

Or nursing care.

He was in an independent living condo, in perfect health with all his mental faculties.

What the hell did you people do to him?

Uncle Andrew, they say that you told your neighbor you were coming to visit me in June?

Have you been here for four months?

Out on the streets?

I don't know.

Don't you remember me?

I'm your nephew, John.

Who?

So what's the profile?

He'll talk for hours if you let him.

But will he admit anything?

Not on purpose.

He thinks that he's too smart to divulge anything incriminating.

And he thinks we're dumb enough to tell him everything we know.

Appear confident, stay calm.

Try to suppress any personal feelings that you have about the crime.

He's not gonna believe we want to be his friend.

Then don't try to be.

That's just gonna cause him to lose respect for you.

He loves attention, so be patient.

You can't let him push your buttons.

What did you two g*ons do to my uncle?

John, he had blood on him.

Contact with the victim.

So you whip out your collapsible t*rture stick and give him a good whack to the head?

John, John...

That's not how it went down.

Look... we'll talk about this.

We gotta start the interview.

The ER doc says your uncle has Alzheimer's.

Well, doctors are idiots.

Last time I spoke to him, he was all there.

When was that?

June 22nd, his birthday.

And your uncle had a collection of crime clippings on him?

So they say.

Well, that's a good sign.

Of what?

An active brain.

Buried somewhere is the knowledge that you work for special victims.

You uncle was compulsively clipping articles involving sex crimes because he was trying to trigger that memory.

Could you take a look at him?

Well, I'm just another idiot doctor.

I have watch the beginning of this interview, but I'll be right in.

Tell us, where do you work, Mr. Banks?

I'm an independent contractor for a soft drink distributor.

You stock vending machines.

And I start pretty early, so...

We know you're a busy man, and we don't want to waste your time.

I appreciate that.

So if you could just tell us one thing.

Have you ever seen that ad before?

No.

Really?

I don't have a kid.

Do you want kids, Mr. Banks?

Not at the moment.

I want to be straight with you, Brent.

Your fingerprint was found on that ad.

How do you explain that?

I don't know.

Was it hanging in Meyer's market by any chance?

As a matter of fact, it was.

Well, I was in there this weekend.

I didn't notice this particular ad, but I did look at an ad for a treadmill.

Maybe I touched the bike ad while I was reading the other one.

Andrew, can you tell me what this is?

I don't know.

Just take a guess.

What do you think it's called?

A pen?

Good.

Now, Andrew, I'm gonna read you a list of words right now, and I want you to listen real carefully.

Are you ready?

I don't know.

It's all right.

Just... just listen.

Flower.

Shirt.

Truck.

Donkey.

Can you remember any of those words?

Sorry, I don't remember the bicycle ad.

What's your favorite form of t*rture, Mr. Banks?

Excuse me?

A lot people like to practice sadomasochism.

What is it you like to do?

I'm not into S&M.

We all know that's not true.

Maryellen Seaver has the scars to prove it.

Remember her?

The girl you r*ped and tortured 13 years ago?

Well, Mr. Banks served his time for that.

It was seven years in prison, wasn't it?

I was wrongly convicted.

We had consensual sex.

Consensual?

Yeah, that's right.

Maryellen had so many bite marks on her body doctors couldn't count them all.

Well... one man's bite is another man's hickey.

Your uncle was misdiagnosed.

I knew it. Idiots.

ER doctors have to treat them and street them, but even if they didn't, it would take a trained psychiatrist to distinguish what he has from Alzheimer's.

Well, what does he have?

I gave him the mini mental status exam.

Now, in Alzheimer's answers might be paraphasic.

For instance, saying "penge" for "pen," or "walk" for "watch."

And if they don't know an answer, they would confabulate one.

But he didn't answer at all.

Well, it took a lot of prodding, but the few answers that he gave were correct.

So what does that mean?

I think that he's suffering from pseudodementia of depression.

He's so depressed he's demented?

His depression is so severe that his neurotransmitters are zapped.

He's nearly catatonic.

My father k*lled himself when I was 13.

Andrew's his brother.

And look at him.

So, I suppose that means someday I'll wake up and no longer be the life of the party.

Not necessarily.

Unlike Alzheimer's, pseudodementia of depression is treatable.

With what?

If he started on antidepressants, he could be functional within a week.

Uncle Andrew, what did you do your bandage?

You gotta leave that on.

Dermatillomania is very common with severe depression.

Derma what?

Compulsive picking.

But how did he get the original wound?

I see this injury a lot with the homeless.

When the weather gets cold, they sleep on heating grates to stay warm.

They get burnt.

I don't have any wounds on me that I know about.

Would you consent to an examination?

No problem.

Would you like detective Beck to leave the room?

I don't mind. I've got nothing to be ashamed of.

Why don't you come over here and take a closer look?

I don't want you to miss anything.

Better check the back.

Take your time.

Enjoy.

Nice love handles.

I don't think so.

You must be seeing things.

How about scratch marks?

See any of those?

You can put your shirt back on, Mr. Banks.

Anything else?

A few more questions if you don't mind.

Anything I can do to help.

He didn't have one scratch on him.

Maybe she didn't hit skin.

He on the other hand left us three good impressions on this gum.

Canine, premolar, and molar.

I thought he'd never spit it out.

Thank god he didn't swallow it.

The deepest bite marks were on Gabriella's breasts.

This my computer-generated recreation of one pre-slash.

Looks like a match.

Enough to compel an order for a full forensic cast.

I think you found your guy.

Detective Stabler, how's the world treating you?

Mr. Munch.

Please call me Andrew.

I'm here to drag my nephew to lunch.

All right, well, I'll see if I can find him.

In the meantime, that's his desk.

Why don't you wait for him?

Oh, uh...

I would like to pay my respects to your beautiful partner.

Yo, Dani.

You got a visitor here.

Hi.

Wow.

Almost didn't recognize you.

Antidepressants.

I've been on them for ten days, and I feel like a new man.

Well, you look like one.

Thanks.

Listen, I, um...

I want to apologize.

No, no apologies necessary.

The man you met ten days ago was not me.

The real me you should get to know.

Maybe over dinner?

Say, in Paris?

Well, when I get to Paris I'll take you up on that, okay?

Okay.

Excuse me.

I need to speak to someone about Brent Allen Banks.

Absolutely.

Will you excuse me?

Of course.

Please have a seat.

How can I help you?

My name is Maryellen Seaver.

Yeah, I recognize you from your picture.

You were Banks' first victim.

I read that his trial is coming up.

I'd like to testify.

We really appreciate that.

But I don't think the judge will let you.

No, I have to.

I was supposed to face him in court 13 years ago, but I couldn't.

They made a deal with him so I wouldn't have to.

You were only 15.

If I had testified... he might still be in jail.

And that woman and her little girl would still be alive.

You can't testify at his trial.

But you can speak at his sentencing hearing once he's convicted.

You'll help guarantee he gets life without parole.

God help me, I wish New York still had the death penalty.

If they did, I'd put the needle in his arm myself.

New York State Courthouse Monday, October 2

I told you we should've left earlier.

They started ten minutes ago.

Will you relax?

It's just a pre-trial hearing.

Yeah, but I have to be there.

Look, there's no jury, no fireworks.

It's very boring.

I'm not going there to be entertained.

He slaughtered the little girl that tried to help me when I was sick.

You remember.

I remember. Come on.

And I met the living victim.

He ruined that girl's life.

And I vowed I'm gonna be in the courtroom for them every day.

Can an individual be matched to bite marks on human skin with 100% certainty?

100%? No.

Why is that?

The human body isn't a flat surface.

It's not the best material for making impressions.

And if the victim struggles, it could distort the bite image.

In this case the bite marks were all slashed.

So how did you match them to my client?

I placed an overlay of pictures of the bite marks over a cast of the defendant's teeth.

I'm sorry.

I thought the bite marks were destroyed.

I took digital photographs, then enhanced them using software...

Enhanced them?

You mean you altered them.

You honor, the defense is trying to distort the use of accepted technology in presenting evidence.

I'm not the one distorting evidence.

The people's expert just admitted she wasn't gathering evidence.

She was creating it.

Your honor, may I address the court?

Uncle Andrew, sit down.

Who's this man?

This so-called attorney is telling outright lies.

But you can see that, can't you?

Sir, you need to be quiet.

Your honor, I'm sorry.

This man is not well.

I hope you're not stupid enough to fall for this.

She's trying to trick you.

She's trying to cloud ear, too.

Court officers.

What is wrong with you?

Why are you trying to set this monster free?

Remove this man.

Uncle Andrew, please. Come on.

Retribution is coming, buddy.

I know a detective who has big plans for you.

Get him out of here before I throw him in jail.

You can't bar me from these proceedings.

Do you really not know what he's done?

He's the one that should be put to sleep like a rabid dog.

If you don't euthanize him...

Order! you're either corrupt...

Get him out of here! or you're an idiot!

Did you tell my uncle you were gonna k*ll Brent Allen Banks?

No.

He says you did.

Why would he say that?

I don't know.

That's why I'm asking.

John, I haven't seen your uncle since he came to take you to lunch last week.

What did you talk about?

Running away to Paris together.

But nothing delusional.

Nothing homicidal.

I guess he's not as well as I thought.

Of course, I want Banks dead.

I knew it.

You did say that to my uncle!

No!

I said it to the original victim.

He must've overheard.

You were interviewing her out in the open?

Don't you know anything about special victims?

I was bonding with a victim.

I know how it feels when a k*ller can't be given the death penalty.

Brent Allen Banks is free.

Free on bail?

Free to go and k*ll again free.

Don't tell me this had anything to do with my uncle's meltdown in court yesterday.

No, though that was special.

We just finished the suppression hearing.

The bite mark evidence was thrown out.

Well, get it back in.

Judge already ruled on it.

And because that evidence was our case, he threw out the indictment.

How could you let that happen?

I guess I suck.

Look, the defense trotted out their "I'll say anything for a buck" experts.

The judge just got snowed.

That's it?

I have leave to re-present the case if we find new evidence.

Well, Banks needs to be locked up till we do.

Not without probable cause.

Legally, you can't touch him right now.

Open up.

How'd you know I'd be here?

I knew.

I'm off the clock.

I'm on my own time.

So am I.

We should break up the shifts for overnight.

Graveyard or early?

Doesn't matter.

I don't have any place to be.

What do you want?

Doesn't matter.

Do you live in this car?

Serving Warrants, I pretty much did.

Are you in the middle of restoring it?

No. It was his baby.

He worked on it for two years.

He didn't get to finish it.

Your husband's car.

Yeah.

He never wanted anyone else to touch it, so...

So you got stuck with it like this?

Yeah.

I'm sorry.

Hello, who's this?

Andrew? How...

How'd you get...

Slow down. I can't understand what you're saying.

It's Munch's uncle.

What's wrong?

Dani, what are we gonna do?

How could they let him out?

You have to do something.

You have to do what you said.

You have to k*ll him before he defiles one more angel.

You have to save them.

Are you gonna do that?

Tell me. Tell him you're going to k*ll him like you said.

Andrew, I never said that.

You did. You promised.

Don't you remember?

Andrew, where are you?

It's pure evil.

He's not human.

It's okay to k*ll him, will you?

No, listen.

I'll call Munch.

Apartment of John Munch 806 West 183rd Street Tuesday, October 3

Doctors...

Turned my uncle into a raving lunatic.

It sounds like he's manic.

Antidepressants can trigger mania in a small number of patients.

Uncle Andrew!

This is not how I left my apartment.

It's not my uncle when he's normal.

He obviously had a manic episode.

You think?

He was looking for something.

My address book.

That's how he got Dani's phone number.

Maybe that's where he went.

I just had her phone number.

He doesn't know anybody else in the city.

He probably went to the precinct.

John... do you keep a g*n in the house?

You think he'd hurt himself?

It's possible.

It's in a lock box.

It's child-proof.

I don't think he could get it.

Well, in a full manic stage, hyperadrenalized.

It's here.

Do you bring files home from work?

Yeah.

Is there one here on Brent Allen Banks?

Got a girl approaching.

Hope she doesn't live in the building.

We should be allowed to post a warning sign on his door.

Yeah.

Son of a bitch.

What?

She's there to see him.

He lured a girl to his apartment?

Well, she's going in.

So are we. Get going...

No, no, just wait.

Just take it easy.

She knows him.

How could she not know about him?

He made all the papers.

He's grabbing a bag.

We gotta go in.

No, we don't have any reason to go in.

Just take it easy.

Oh, no.

What's he doing here?

Elliot, Dani, I knew you wouldn't let me down.

Did you take care of him already?

What's the game plan?

To get you out of here.

No, we've got to...

We've got to do something.

I can't just sit at home climbing the walls not knowing what he's gonna do next.

I'm crawling out of my skin.

John, John.

We've got your uncle outside Banks' building.

You've gotta come down and pick him up now, now.

Dani, Dani.

Look, stay here.

Your nephew's on his way.

Just stay here.

Where you going, Elliot?

Okay, listen.

Can you watch his house for us?

Can you do that?

I can do that.

Thank you.

Uptown, downtown?

Downtown.

Halfway down the platform.

That bag's gotta be his r*pe kit.

I say we confront him and see if...

We don't have probable cause.

Her dead body's gonna give us probable cause, but I'm not waiting for that.

Dani, listen to me.

You gotta be patient.

Be patient.

Take the north side.

We'll just split it.

No!

No!

No!

No! No!

No!

No!

Andrew, what have you done?

We did it.

We did good.

We did it, Dani.

We did good.

Rockland Psychiatric Center Orangeburg, New York Monday, October 9

Sorry I'm late.

Is Munch here yet?

He's inside.

Look like he's right back where he started, huh?

You all set?

I can't.

You can't what?

Go in.

Why?

Hey, Dani, Munch reached out to us.

Come on.

Thanks for coming. Maybe you can talk some sense into him.

Uncle Andrew, you got company.

Hi. You remember me?

Remember our game plan, huh?

Tell him he wasn't responsible for what happened down on the subway.

You had something that's called a psychotic break.

You just have to stand trial.

They'll find you not guilty by reason of insanity.

They'll send you right back here to get well.

Just take your medication.

No.

The right ones this time.

Ones that'll work for you.

No medication.

I told them no.

I've got rights.

But in a couple of weeks, you'll be better.

And then the doctors will have no choice but to let you go.

But I was responsible.

You want to punish yourself?

Spend the rest of your life a prisoner within your own mind?

But I've gotta pay for what I did.

I just want to say good-bye.

Good-bye, John.