03x03 - Til Death Do Us Part

[bunniefuu]

Put that swill down.

I got you one big sissy coffee drink
and two crullers,

breakfast of champions.

Thank you, Jordan.
Thank you. That's uh very nice of you.

I appreciate it, I do.

But uh, I think we need
to talk about this.

It might help if I knew what "this" was.

This, this. You bringing me
breakfast every morning.

Us going out to dinner, us going to the
movies, that hike we took last Sunday.

This, I mean, come on,
Jordan, look at us.

Okay, I- I just don't see
why we can't hang out together.

Okay, what's the big deal?

Big deal is that there is still a sexual
tension between you and I.

There, I said it. I did it.

Okay.

I just assumed that that went away
once we kissed that time out in L.A.

Are- are you trying to tell me
that since that has happened,

you- you haven't felt anything
between you and I?

- Hello, Cavanaugh.
- This is Hoyt.

All I'm sayin' is that we should finish
that conversation.

What? What is it?
What are you lookin' at?

It's Saint Inez. I know one of the priests
at this parish. We're old friends.

Old friends, great.

- Hi, Nige. / Hey.
- Hey, what have we got?

Female, early thirties.
Appears to have been beaten.

Massive internal injuries, I suspect.

Lividity's fixed.
She's been dead ten, twelve hours.

Who found the body?

I did.

Paul.

Will you excuse us?

Boy, this is a hell of a way
to see one another, huh?

Oh, I'm sorry, uh, heck of a way.

Uh, I got here early for morning Mass,
and I saw someone lying there.

Do you recognize her?

Her name is Sandra McGregor.
She was a parishioner.

Okay, any idea who
could have done this to her?

Sorry, but I can't tell you that.

What do you mean? Why not?

I can't betray her confession.

Okay, but let's contact next of kin first.

I'll get over to her place
when I'm finished here. Thanks.

Alright, I've got an address for a Darryl
and Sandra McGregor over on Stanhope.

That's about two miles from here.

Good, `cause I'm not entire sure
she d*ed here.

So I take it that was your old friend.

Oh, yeah.

He'd be a pretty normal-looking guy
if it wasn't for the collar.

Meaning what?

So what?
He was your boyfriend or somethin'?

We went out together my last two years
of high school.

What happened?

Isn't it obvious?

Oh, yeah. Ouch.
That's gotta hurt.

I mean, it's- it's one thing to get dumped
for another girl, but uh,

well, you can wrap your brain
around that one.

It's ancient history.

He have anything to say?

No, nothing at all.

Detective Hoyt, Father Casnelli
would like a word with you.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you
that the church here in Boston

has had some very bad press
these past few years.

I'm aware of that, Father, yes.

To that end, this kind of thing needs
to be handled with sensitivity.

A m*rder on church grounds.

I can assure you that we'll finish this
as soon as possible and get it all over with.

I'll assume I have your word on that.

Yes, Father.

Maybe he's at work.

His wife never came home last night.
Would you go to work the next morning?

Yeah, but you haven't met my husband.

Ever notice any domestic disturbance
between Mister and Mrs. McGregor?

You're kidding, right?

Is that a yes?

I'm surprised them two
haven't k*lled each other yet.

That's not what happened, is it?

Let's just say there's been
a little trouble in paradise. / Hmm.

Although you'd never know
that looking around here.

Oh, I think you spoke too soon.

Let's get a sample of that blood
and lift hair from drain traps.

Looks like we're gonna need
the husband's DNA.

Yeah. Yeah, I know.

Bug.

I need you to do a pickup.

- Sorry, I'm not on duty.
- You're not on duty?

What, this? Oh, I'm doing a centipede
study on some spleens we're not using.

It- it's extracurricular.

Peter, you busy?

What? No, I'm just pulling
dead bodies around.

- I'm gonna take that as a yes.
- You got a pickup?

Yeah, and I'm understaffed.
It's nothing fancy. Man versus stepladder.

Yeah, I got my hands full with Tiny here.

I tell you what, you pick him up,
I'll cut him. Appreciate the offer.

Emmy, I'm still the boss
around here, aren't I?

Of course you are, Doctor M.

Just checkin'.

Thanks for holding down the fort, Officer.
What have we got.

Carlton Pritchard, forty-four.

Wife was out shoppin'.
Came home, found this.

Been sittin' there since I showed up.

- Hasn't said much.
- Okay, thanks.

Mrs. Pritchard,

I'm Garret Macy from
the Medical Examiner's Office.

Hello, Garret.

Uh, you- you don't mind, I hope.
I'm not big on formality.

That's fine. But I need to do
a prelim exam on your husband.

You might want to go to another room.

Well, if it's alright,
I'd- I'd really rather stay here.

I don't really want to be alone.

I'm very sorry for your loss.

You say that a lot, huh?

Yeah, I guess I do.

He must have been cleaning that ceiling.

I'm sorry?

Carlton. He was such a neat freak.

I'm- I'm- I'm not passing judgment
or anything, but, I mean, really.

Who cleans the ceilings?

Do you think he d*ed quickly?

From the looks of things, yes.

You're an honest man, Garret.

A rarity these days,
and I appreciate that.

With all due respect, Mrs. Pritchard, I--

It's Frances, and please spare me
the "all due respect."

There's always a "but" at the end of it,
and it's never respectful.

If you have a question for me, just,
you know, fire away.

Well, it's just that we're sitting here
in full view of your dead husband,

and you seem to be taking it very well.

I am, aren't I?

I guess it's because
I'm used to being a widow.

See, Carlton is my fifth husband.

And now he's the fifth to die.

That's what I call a pancreas.

If Bug's right, Skinny here
just broke the morgue record.

You should see his colon.

Somethin' I can help you with,
Doctor Macy?

When you're done here, I was hoping
you could do the autopsy on my pickup.

- Guy who fell off the ladder?
- Guy who fell off the ladder.

- Lookin' for anything specific?
- Nope.

- Something strange about the scene?
- Not really.

- Any reason to suspect foul play?
- Law of averages.

- Ooh, that's cryptic.
- You want to do it?

- Hell, yeah.
- Okay.

The husband did it.

I know, I already talked to Nigel.
He's all atwitter about it.

We got an APB out on him.
You find anything?

Looks like she had sex shortly
before she was k*lled,

but it appears to have been consensual.

A little sex, a little b*ating.
Sounds par for the course for these two.

Yeah. I'll have Nigel test for a match
with the husband's DNA

just to verify that he was the donor.

Is that blood?

No. It's some kind of waxy substance.

there appears to be something else
underneath it. I'm not really sure what it is.

I'll have Nigel run an analysis.

Uh, were you in love with him?

- Uh, who?
- The priest.

What, Paul?

He wasn't a priest at the time.

Oh.

Well, were you in love with him then?

I don't know.

Yeah, I guess.

Uh, you know what they say,
"First cut is the deepest."

Yeah.

How far was her place from the church?

A couple miles.
Why, you think she walked?

Yeah, it looks like it.

Why go to a church?

There was a hospital ten blocks
from her apartment.

We need to go back to Saint Inez.

Okay, I took the liberty of digitizing
the site of the accident,

- so if Mrs. Pritchard pushed her hubby--
- Nobody's saying that.

Right.
Well, you kinda are.

Run the sim, Peter.

Yeah. Okay, based on the position
of the ladder and his body

and where the fracture is in his neck,
I can pinpoint exactly what happened.

- So he fell.
- Right.

- It was an accident.
- Sure was.

Then why are you showing me this?

I thought it was cool.

What about the autopsy?

The autopsy is far more interesting,
particularly...

the tox screen.

You want me to open
a homicide investigation? / Yeah.

- The guy d*ed accidentally.
- Maybe. / Maybe.

We found high concentrations
of mercury in his system.

Not conclusive by a long sh*t,
but it's indicative of poisoning.

I'm sensing there's an "and" coming.

The grieving widow's been through
five husbands in twelve years.

Maybe she's just unlucky.

- I don't believe in luck.
- Uh-huh.

I can't order the exhumation
of four previous husbands

without it being a legit investigation.

Now, if you don't feel up to it,
I'll just talk to Woody--

Oh, now you're just trying
to hurt my feelings.

What are you talking about?

I'm a girl, Doctor Macy.

We're sensitive.

When you come to us to open
a homicide investigation,

we want to think we're the only one.

You're yanking my chain.

When I'm yanking your chain,
you'll know it.

I want to meet her.

If she smells wonky,
you can dig up whoever you want.

Thank God for blood trails.

Here's another one.

She went this way.

What are you doing?

I was crossing myself.

I can see that. Why?

Because I'm Catholic.

When did this happen?

When they christened me.

Okay, how did I not know that?

Well, if you happened to wake up in
my apartment on a Sunday morning,

you would know, because
you'd be going to Mass with me.

Come on, I promised Father Casnelli that
I wouldn't drag the investigation back here,

- so can we just get this over with?
- Yeah, okay.

Oh, uh, one second.
Thanks.

What are you doing here, Jordan?

Look, she was here last night,
in the church.

I'm sorry, but I'm investigating a m*rder.

I need to ask you as a friend, Paul,

- if you know something--
- I'm asking you as a friend not to ask me.

The sacramental
seal is inviolable.

Yeah, of course it is.

Let me guess. He wanted to know
if you were free Saturday night.

- Yeah, just give me that thing.
- I got it.

Seems to lead to this station right here.

I don't understand.
What was she doing here?

I got a feeling those semen samples you
found are not gonna match the husband's.

How do you know that?

Saint Angela, the patron saint
of marital temptation.

Marital temptation?

Adultery.

Our girl was having an affair.

You were right.

The semen didn't belong to the husband.
Blood type didn't match.

We need to find the man it does belong to.

Why? We're looking for the husband.

What difference does it make
who she's screwin' around with?

Because she was with him
within hours of her death.

How do we know he didn't have
somethin' to do with it?

Well, we don't,
but look at the facts, Jordan.

Look, she comes home,
he confronts her about the affair,

and the you know what hits the fan.

I saw the crime scene
with my own two eyes.

I still think that we should know
where she was.

- Well, I am ahead of you there.
- Oh.

You- you know that sample from
underneath her fingernails? / Yeah.

It was shrimp shell.
Little Cajun spice on it.

There's only one Cajun restaurant
in the entire neighborhood.

Oh, well, it looks like
you have lunch plans.

Well, hello, Garret.

How nice to see you again.

And you must be the police.

Annie Capra. Do you mind if we come
in for a moment, Mrs. Pritchard?

Oh, not at all. I- I was just making
myself a grilled cheese. Please.

I'm actually surprised I haven't heard
from the police sooner.

When Gavin d*ed--he was my fourth--

I thought for sure someone would
come around and start asking questions.

And what made you think that,
Mrs. Pritchard?

Well, it is kind of suspicious, isn't it?

Do you mind if we ask how
your previous husbands passed?

Of course not. Uh, Andre had
an accident in his workshop.

It was a faulty outlet.

Henry had d*ed of
an allergic reaction to nuts.

Brian fell asleep behind
the wheel of his car,

and Gavin, well, Gavin just dropped
dead of a plain old heart att*ck.

Mmm. Hmm.

There really is nothing better than a good
grilled cheese, is there? Mmm.

So what do you think?

I think she really likes grilled cheese.

- Well, that's very astute.
- Thanks.

Put everything aside
and just look at the odds.

The odds in roulette are thirty-five to one,
but some sucker always seems to win.

You're playing devil's advocate.

Yeah. I'm just having a hard time picturing
this woman as a stone cold k*ller.

You said you would sign off on the
exhumations if you thought she was wonky.

You look me in the eye
and tell me she's not wonky.

Consider the investigation opened.

A word of advice, though.

Don't say "wonky," Doc. It doesn't
sound right coming out of your mouth.

Oh, hey. Hear anything from Woody?

Yeah, he got a lead on the husband.

Oh, okay.
What about the Cajun restaurant?

Uh, no one there remembered
Sandra McGregor.

They suggested I come back tonight
and talk to the wait staff.

Well, then I guess that's just
what you're gonna have to do.

Come now, Jordan,
you know me better than that.

I don't just stand in line
with the rest of the hoi polloi.

What did you find?

There was only one party of two
that ordered the blackened shrimp.

Fortunately, the bill was paid
with a credit card.

So what?
She paid with her credit card?

- No, luv. He did.
- Ah.

What is it?

Nothing, uh,

thanks, Nige.
I gotta go.

One's missing.

- I told you he'd notice.
- Which husband?

- Andre Deutch.
- The first.

And foremost.

- Well, where is he?
- Not where he's supposed to be.

The plot at his headstone was empty.
No coffin, no Andre Deutch.

We're on it.

Okay, we've got a narrow shred of leeway

to convince our detective friend
that Frances Pritchard's a k*ller.

So here's what I need.
Background checks?

I want to know who these men were.
Assets, criminal records.

We're looking for possible motives here.

If they're victims, I want to know why.

I want these coffins opened up
with minimum damage.

I don't want to disturb these men's
final resting place

any more than absolutely necessary.

Records say these gentlemen were
sign-outs the first time around,

so I'm ordering full autopsies.

Ignore the initial findings.

Start from scratch, assume nothing.

Tell me how we think they d*ed.

Tell me how they really d*ed.
And most importantly...

tell me if she k*lled `em.

I'm sorry I'm late.

Oh, no problem.

Paul, good to see you.

You, too, Max.
Haven't seen you at Mass much lately.

That's only `cause I haven't been.
What can I getcha?

Nothing, thanks.
Yeah, we're uh, not gonna be here long.

Well, if you change your minds.

Everything okay between you two?

No, uh, but we're pretending like it is.

I know that you were with
Sandra McGregor the other night.

You two went to dinner.

The man that she was
with had sex with her.

Two hours later, she was dead.

I was counseling her.

That what the kids are calling it nowadays?

Look, Paul, if there's something you should
tell me, now might be the time to do it.

The sacramental seal of
the confession cannot be broken.

Oh, but anything outside
the seal is fair game, huh?

I'm a priest.
I'm not a saint.

You know the worst part
about you becoming a priest?

It wasn't that I couldn't have you.

It wasn't that you didn't choose me.

It was that we gave each other our word

that the collar wouldn't get
in the way of us being friends.

I'm sorry.

I'm gonna have to ask you
for a blood sample, Paul.

I think we're done talking about this.

Look, you understand I can't protect you
and I won't,

sacramental seal or no.
I'm sorry.

Where's the popcorn?

You know, I suggested that,
but Bug thought it would be inappropriate.

Okay, boys, let's see what you got.

Alright, let's start with the present
and work our way back.

Husband number five, Carlton Pritchard.

Broken neck, mercury content suspicious
but inconclusive.

Any idea why she might k*ll him?

Well, it wasn't money.
Pritchard was a bus driver,

and his net worth at death was
approximately eleven thousand dollars.

Gavin Strode, husband number four.

He had a massive coronary at the ripe
old age of thirty-one.

Congenital heart defect?

There's no pulmonary stenosis or atresia.
If there was a defect, I couldn't find it.

Thirty-one-year-old hearts don't stop
b*ating without a reason.

This one did.

Brian Marcum, number three.

Uh, cause of death was
easy enough to verify.

Injuries were consistent
with a high speed collision,

but since the actual wreck is long gone--

Who's to say the brake line wasn't cut?

Yeah, and numero dos, Henry Bridges.

Autopsy revealed a severely swollen throat.
Histamine count was off the chart,

and we found urticaria on his skin.

Anaphylactic shock.

She said it was an allergy to nuts.

It's possible. Stomach contents came up
empty. Maybe he vomited before he d*ed.

But get this--he was a millionaire.
And he left it all to his widow.

Come on, don't get his hopes up.

Frances liquidated
her entire inheritance

and left all the proceeds
to a cat hospital.

Yeah, it's-- Thought you'd
like a happy ending.

I want you to find the first husband.

If he's missing,
there's a reason he's missing.

She made a mistake.

Doctor Macy, we've done
four autopsies already.

The results in every case
were inconclusive.

Just because we can't prove it
doesn't mean it didn't happen.

Hey-hey-hey. Whoa-whoa! Whoa.

Hey. Who are you?

Detective Hoyt, Homicide. Leonard, right?

- Someone get k*lled?
- Yeah. Sandra McGregor.

I'm looking for her husband Darryl,
and I think you know where I can find him.

Yeah, why's that?

Maybe because he made a twelve minute
cell phone call to you

at six forty-one this morning.

He's at the Potts Motel off I-Ninety-five.

Room twenty-seven.

I'm supposed to meet him there in a
couple hours to loan him some cash.

Open up! Police!
Oh!

Shotgun! He's reloadin'!

Drop it!

You okay?

Yeah,

why?

You just k*lled a man, Woody.

I'm fine.

Sure, you say that now,
but a week from now,

you'll be curled up on the floor
of shrink's office in the fetal position.

You find out who she was sleeping with?

No, uh, nothing.

Turns out she was with him
at some restaurant.

Little leg work,
I'll figure out where it was.

Uh, like you said, what's the difference?

Her husband k*lled her.
The end of another tragic story.

Funny. Doesn't feel like it's over.

Doctor Macy,

I uh, think we got a lead on Andre Deutch.

Is that name supposed
to mean something to me?

It's husband number one.

Or the first fly to fall into the black widow's web.

Big fan of TV movies, are we, Peter?

I'm an insomniac and a recovering addict.

When you can't take sleeping pills,
Lifetime Network's all you got.

Frances bought the plot
where Deutch was supposed to be

from the Cosgrove Brothers Funeral Home.

You think the mortuary was in on it?

- There's only one way to find out, right?
- Hello.

Garret, would you like to tell me
why I can't have my husband's body?

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Pritchard, but--
- Frances.

If you don't mind,
I'd rather keep this professional.

You can call me Frances
and still keep this professional.

I can't release your husband yet.
We're still doing tests.

You think I k*lled him.

I didn't say that.

Oh, I hope you're not
a poker player, Garret.

- Aren't you upset?
- Excuse me?

Your husband d*ed
and you seem fine with it.

I'm entitled to grieve however I need to.

You're right. Yes, you are.

Why aren't you married, Garret?

I was.

Didn't work out.
I've been divorced almost five years.

Was that your idea, the divorce?

No. I wanted to make it work.

Well, you should have helped her then.

So, what's it going to take
to convince you I'm not a k*ller?

Excuse me?

Uh, what about one of those lie detector
thingamabobs? Can you set that up?

A polygraph?
Yeah, I'm sure I could.

Well, it's settled then.

You know, Garret,

I think you have some serious trust issues.

You gonna sit there drinking
ginger ale all day,

or you want to tell me
what's bothering you?

Sure.

But don't you think we should talk
about the elephant in the room first?

What elephant?

I'll take that as a no.

Somethin' on your mind, Jordan?

Well, what do you do when you know
something that you can't talk about?

`Cause if you do, you're a rat,

and if you don't, then it's just
gonna eat away at you?

Welcome to my world.

All I know is the truth doesn't
always set you free.

- That's no help.
- You asked.

Okay, great. So I guess I'll just fulfill
my familial obligation to keeping secrets.

You were with Paul earlier.
He'd hear your confession.

No, I can't do that.

I should have made you go to church.

Might have given you some faith.

Oh God, there's an irony inside an irony.

Well, do what you have to,
but secrets have a way of piling up.

You know, hold `em inside too long--

But you just said that the truth
doesn't always set you free. / Yeah.

Yeah, that doesn't make any sense.

No. Doesn't, does it?

How'd you talk her
into taking a polygraph?

Actually, it was her idea.

Someone who volunteers to take a lie detector
probably thinks they're gonna pass.

You ever hear the one
about the briar patch?

No, but I heard the one
about the obsessed M.E.

who had it out for a sweet little old lady.

Have you ever been married, Detective?

What does that have to do with anything?

Well, marriage is built around love,

but at its core, it's about work.

If you don't do the work,
then the marriage falls apart. Trust me.

I know.

Frances Pritchard thinks
that you can just start over,

wipe the slate clean,
and it doesn't work that way.

It's not fair.

Okay, Mrs. Pritchard, we need you
to relax as much as possible.

Well, that sort of defeats the purpose,
doesn't it?

I am Detective Annie Capra,

and we are here to conduct a polygraph
examination of Mrs. Frances Pritchard.

Also present is Doctor Garret Macy
of the Medical Examiner's Office.

So, Mrs. Pritchard, I'll be asking you
a series of yes or no questions,

and you are to answer only yes or no.
Do you understand?

Okay. I mean, yes.

Is your name Frances Pritchard,

and do you reside at Eleven
thirty-four Blanchard Terrace? / Yes.

Are you now or have you ever been
a professional wrestler?

No.

Standard procedure.
We just need to get a baseline no.

Oh. No.

Were you most recently married
to a Mister Carlton Pritchard? / Yes.

- Were you poisoning your husband?
- No.

- You've been married four times prior?
- Yes.

You changed your name
with each marriage?

I took my husband's name.
That's what you do.

Mrs. Pritchard, please answer only yes
or no to the question. / Yes.

Did you change your name
to escape detection? / No.

Were any of your husbands
physically abusive in any way?

Lord, no.

Are you directly or indirectly responsible
for any of their deaths?

No.

Thanks for coming in, Mrs. Pritchard.

You're very welcome.

Well, she's one cool customer,
that's for sure.

She winked at me.

I'd stay away from her if I were you.

Girls on the rebound can be dangerous.

You done with that thing yet?

She aced it.

Every question,
one hundred percent truthful.

Uh, bless me, Father,
for I have sinned.

It's been, boy, about uh,
over a year since my last confession.

I don't handle unresolved issues too well.

I tend to run away from them,

and then they just come back a
nd they bite me in the...

The haunt me later, you know?

What is it that you wish to confess?

I know something that I shouldn't,

and I don't really know
what to do about it.

What is it that you know?

Okay, a priest takes
a vow of celibacy.

Now, I don't know
that I believe it's right,

but, you know, it is a vow.

And because he broke this vow,
a woman is dead.

I didn't want to tell the police,
but, you know, I had to tell someone.

Sandra McGregor was very unhappy.

She was a good Catholic.

Divorce was not an option,
so she sought counsel.

This is an intimate thing,

to make oneself so vulnerable,
to ask for help.

But the man she asked for help was weak

and he fell in love.

You knew.

You should pray for his strength,

and say twenty Hail Marys
and ten Our Fathers.

Well, that's it?

That's all you have to say?

I come to you with a problem,
you tell me to say a few Hail Marys

like I just snuck a cigarette
in the girls' room.

I'm sorry, my child.

Yeah, well, so am I.

Ah, I see you found the Admiral.

Oh, yeah, boy.
She's a real beaut.

I'm Ronald Cosgrove.

My deepest condolences.

Mmm, she's uh, she's durable.

The Mercedes of caskets.

May I ask what your needs might be?

Oh, we're just browsing.

The Admiral. I mean,
that's ten grand a coffin, right?

That's-- Uh, I mean,
that's a lot of money to just bury.

Who are you guys?

Medical Examiner's Office.

Yeah, we checked you out Cosgrove.
In the past ten years,

you've sold almost two hundred Admirals.

That's admirable.

Yet, somehow you've managed to order,
was it just twenty?

Just twenty from the manufacturer.

There must be some clerical error.

There's no clerical error, you miscreant.

You've been digging up those poor people
and reselling their coffins.

I am shocked and appalled.

Stop talking right now.
Those coffins have serial numbers.

Did you want us to run them
against the decedents?

We've been um,

we've been stacking `em.

We put `em in boxes and leave
in one of the mausoleums.

But they're all labeled, I swear.

It's just with this damn recession--

You are gonna personally deliver
the remains of a man named

Andre Deutch to us at the morgue.

Then you've got one week to bury
each and every one of these people

whom you've desecrated,
put them back in their original plots

in a nice, shiny new Admiral. Cool?

Cool.

Cool.

Thank you, Jordan.

Thank you for lying to me.

Did you think I wasn't gonna find out
that you found the other guy?

I told you I knew about the restaurant.

I hope your friend
at least took his collar off first.

Look, like you said, it's over.

Okay, I don't see why we
can't just leave this alone.

Because he's a priest, that's why.

Jordan.

Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt.

No, that's okay, Nige. What is it?

Well, I- I just got a call to go
down to Saint Inez again.

Thought it was a bit of
a weird coincidence.

Eh, what are you talkin' about?

Priest there just OD'd.

Doctor Cavanaugh, M.E.'s Office.

Father Casnelli.

Is it him?

Cosgrove Brothers might have been scam artists,
but they knew how to stack their corpses.

Dental records match up.
Meet hubby number one.

Tell me you found something.

Nope. It's what we didn't find.

Alright, here's the scene of
Andre's accident back in ninety-two.

Now, it was written up
as a freak electrocution.

A faulty outlet fritzed a power drill.

The original autopsy showed visceral
congestion, which backs up electrocution.

But Andre was grounded
by the sole of his boots,

so there should be palisading around
the entrance and exit wounds of the current.

There are no wounds.

Andre wasn't grounded.

And we found soapy water in his
lungs during the new autopsy.

So she tossed a radio
or something into the tub, fried him,

then dressed him up and dragged the body
all the way down to the basement

and shorted out the drill
to make it look real.

Yup. That's diabolical.

She made a mistake.

She did, but now that she's passed
the polygraph, how do you prove it?

Pretty sure you gotta type on
that keyboard to make that thing work.

Hi.

What are you doin'?

I took a blood sample from Father Casnelli

and ran it against the semen sample
that we got from Sandra McGregor.

You think he was the one
she was having the affair with?

That would explain everything.

When do you get the results back?

As soon as I hit "enter."

So what is holding you back?

If it's positive, I have just ruined
a priest's good name.

Yeah, but you cleared your friend Paul's.

Well, maybe I don't want to know.

Maybe it's no one's business.

It's all about finding the truth, Jordan.

Three people have d*ed because of this.

I think you owe it to them.

- Do I?
- Yeah.

It's just the truth has so many strings
attached to it.

Everything has strings attached to it.

People fall in love,
people fall out of love.

You go where your heart takes you.

There's danger in that.

That's just the way life is.

Are you talking about them now
or about us?

Push the button, Jordan.

Could you keep it down in here?
Some people are trying to work.

Sorry.

You're frustrated, huh?

What makes you say that?

You always break out the sticks
when you're frustrated.

It's predictable. But it's cute.

Tell me something.

How can someone be guilty of multiple
homicides and still ace a lie detector test?

Easy. They're not lying.

What do you mean?

It's possible to k*ll
without considering it k*lling.

A lie detector is too straightforward.

It's too logical.

You ask if they k*lled someone,
they have an entirely different word for it.

It's what makes `em sick.

So we asked the wrong questions.

Afternoon, Garret.

Hi, Frances.

Well, well. Finally,
I'm not Mrs. Pritchard anymore.

That earns you a place on my swing.

Don't mind if I do.

You know, that was clever.

Asking to take the lie detector,
that was very clever.

Whatever do you mean?

You don't like strong men, do you?

- I'm sorry?
- You like to call the sh*ts, be in control.

You like to help.

Starting to have second thoughts
about sharing my swing.

When I said I was divorced,
you told me I should have helped my wife.

Yes, to understand her vow.

Marriage is a sacred thing, Garret.
You make promises to each other.

That's what vows are, promises.

`Til death do us part, huh?

Well, ending a marriage is not an option.

When someone asks for a divorce,
you have to help them understand that,

well, that just won't do.

Did you help your husbands
to understand that, Frances?

Carlton should have been different.

So neat, so precise.

But he still left the cap off
the damn toothpaste.

That makes no sense to me.

Well, divorce makes no sense to me.

I'm in trouble, aren't I?

Yeah.

Could we just sit here
for a little while longer?

Sure.

Good.

Came to say a prayer.

su1c1de is a grievous sin,
so I'm not allowed to give last rites.

I've ruled it an accidental death.

Who's to say he didn't just pop
a few too many pills by mistake.

Thank you.

He told me everything, Paul.

I just didn't realize it.

It was him that she came to
for help with her marriage.

He's the one who fell in love.

But you were willing to take
the rap for him. Why?

Because I took an oath.

They came to me separately to confess.

I told her she had to tell
her husband the truth.

I begged Father Casnelli to ask
to be reassigned to another parish.

Only one of them followed my advice.

I had no business telling them what to do.

What do I know about relationships, Jordan?
The last one I had was with you.

We were just kids.

It's a sham.

You're not wearing your collar.

The collar feels like a noose.

But you shouldn't make these decisions
in the heat of the moment.

I just need to know,
would you still be my friend,

- Jordan, with or without the collar?
- Uh--

I will always be your friend,
whatever you decide.

I have your word on that?

Yes.

In the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. / Amen.

The Lord is my Shepherd.
I shall not want.

In verdant pastures,
He gives me repose.

Beside restful waters, He leads me.

He refreshes my soul.

He guides me in right paths
for His name's sake.

Even though I walk in the dark valley,

I fear no evil,
for You are at my side.