05x12 - Code of Ethics

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Crossing Jordan". Aired: September 2001 to May 2007.*

Moderator: Lillith Decker

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Follows a crime-solving forensic pathologist employed in the Massachusetts Office of the Chief Medical Examiner.
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05x12 - Code of Ethics

Post by bunniefuu »

Good morning.

Yes, it is.

Hi, gorgeous.

What?

Nothing.

What am I, chopped liver?

What's he doing here?

I... I don't know. Uh...

Who's it gonna be, Jordan?

Him or me?

Oh!

Jordan Cavanaugh.

Where?

Okay, on my way.

Abby, what did I tell you
about music this early?

Come on.

I'm sorry, dad.

I forgot.

It's a sweet system.

Who are you...
who... who is he?

Dad, this is Chad.

I told you about him.
Remember?

Hey.

Chad came all the way
down from Albany last night

just to come be with me.

It's cool if he stays until
the end of my break, right?

I'm late for work.

His name is Gregory Black.

He's a seargeant
in the U.S. Army.

You know who the other
glass belongs to?

No.

Neighbor said he lived by himself
and rarely had any visitors.

Three g*nsh*t wounds
to the chest above sea level.

I'll need to collect the water
before I can figure out

what actually happened
down below.

What about time of death?

Water temperature's affected
lividity and rigor.

I'll check his vitreous potassium
levels back at the morgue.

Hey.

Guess you haven't told Pollack yet
what happened between us.

I didn't need to.
He figured out.

Oh.

And?

And every time I bring it up,
he changes the subject.

It's only been a couple days.
Maybe he just needs some space.

You should talk to him, Jordan.

Well, well.

Isn't this romantic?

Come on, Pollack.
You know the drill.

Reporters on the other side
of the tape.

What do you think, Cavanaugh?

Crime of passion?

Too soon to tell.

Some poor block finds his wife,
or girlfriend is cheating on him

decides to even the score.

Give the cheating bastard
what he deserves.

You know what, Pollack?
This really isn't the time.

No, no, no.
It's all right, Jordan.

If you've got something
that you want to say...

Stay away from my girlfriend.

What the hell?

You don't own me.

I should have dragged his sorry ass
out of bed, b*at the crap out of him,

and then paid him bucks
to say the hell away from her.

Bribery and as*ault.
That'd win you Parent of the Year.

What I saw this morning, that was
an as*ault on my sensibilities.

Face it, Garret.
She's all grown up.

Either deal with it, or she'll
stop dealing with you.

Yeah.

What do we got?

Leo Fulton, .

Resides in Philly.
Collapsed on the T.

Medical records show a history
of congestive heart failure.

He is pretty sick to be traveling.

Leo had another curious
bit of history.

I ran his name through the system.
Got a hit back from the Boston P.D.

years ago,

Leo was arrested for the kidnapping
of Henry Hurst.

Significant swelling of the ankles.

Was the Lindbergh case of the ' s.

Two-year-old Henry Hurst snached
from his parents' Beacon Hill estate

in the dead of night.

Yeah, I remember.

The ransom note demanded $ , .

Leo...
He's the Hurst gardener.

He was arrested when they found
his prints at the scene.

But his trial ended in a hung jury.

- Pronounced neck veins, too.
- Year later, young Henry was found dead.

They never did apprehend his k*ller.

What does any of this have to
do with how this man d*ed?

Well, nothing, I suppose.

What Mr. Fulton needs
is a chest x-ray.

If his heart's enlarged,
I won't bother opening him up.

Dr. Macy, this is
Mr. Fulton's son.

So sorry about your father.

Thank you.

Hey.

Hey, Pops.

What was your father
doing in Boston?

He used to live here.

He wanted for us to make
this trip together.

But he never told me why.

When he got something
in his head, he...

My dad was a sturbborn man.

All indicators point to heart failure.

Chest x-ray should confirm it.

Thank you.

Feel like a pool boy.

Without the fringe benefits.

How's it going?

How's it look?

How are you?

Fine.

You pull those slugs yet?

Yeah. A -milimeter.

I ran them through the database.

No matches.

Black worked as a logistics specialist

at the General Supply Center
out of Camp Harrison.

He just returned from a tour
of duty in Iraq last month.

And ended up here.

Time of death was between
: and midnight.

And I'm guessing his
hot tub honey was a redhead.

Are you sure it's not just red
from all the blood?

Or more from like a bottle.

I'll run it for DNA.

For all we know,
it could be the k*ller's.

Woody, uh,

I'm sorry about Pollack.

I mean, I'm the one he should
be mad at, not you.

Some guy just slept with
the woman I wanted to marry,

I probably would have
done a lot worse.

Marriage? Who said
anything about marriage?

I just assumed that he asked you.

To marry him?
Why would you assume that?

He bought you a ring, Jordan.

How... how do you know that?

Nigel told me.

Nigel?
How does Nigel know?

You know what? This is probably something
you have to work out with Pollack.

I got to talk to Black's C.O.

Black pulled three men from a burning
Humvee after it hit a land mine.

All while under fire.

Earned him a Silver Star.

Colonel, can you think of anyone who
might have wanted the sergeant dead?

No.
He was well-liked by everyone.

His men are gonna take it hard.

What did his duties entail?

Worked in the uniform
and armory division.

Shipping out equipment,
ordering merchandise.

We're a major supply center
for our troops overseas.

Did he have a girlfriend?

You should ask Captain Osborne.

They interact more
on a day-to-day basis.

Where can I find him?

She's over there.

One on the right.

The redhead.

Greg and I were in love.

Neither of us went
looking for it, but...

we just had this
undeniable connection.

Isn't it tabbo for an officer
to fraternize with an enlisted soldier?

I could be court-martialed.

Wow.

Dishonorable discharge won't even
get you a job flipping burgers.

Have you ever been in love, Detective?

Sure.

Why?

It's worth the risk.

Maybe Sergeant Black
fell out of love.

- Maybe he wanted to end things.
- No.

If you couldn't be with him,
then no one else could.

Do you think that I did this?

Your registered firearm,
it's a Beretta -millimeter, right?

Look, you can run a ballistics test.

The sooner you eliminate me
as a suspect,

the sooner you will catch
the son of bitch who did this.

All right.

Tell me about last night.

Got to Greg's place
at hours, : .

He's been stressed lately,
so I suggested we get into the hot tub.

Stressed? Why?

A buddy from his old unit
was k*lled a few days ago.

He took it pretty hard.

Okay.

What next?

We ordered Thai food.

Uh, I surprised him
with a bottle of champagne.

It was our six-month anniversary.

We sat in the hot tub
for about another half an hour.

And then I had to
get back to the base.

What time was that?

: .

Can anyone verify that?

The guards at the main gat can.

Thank you, Captain.

I'll be in touch.

Detective.

My relationship with Sergeant Black...

If it has nothing
to do with this case,

your secret is safe with me.

If she didn't do it...

We're back to square one.

Oh, great.

Here comes Mike Tyson.

I can't...

I just can't.

Don't take that personally.

Yeah.
You here to apologize?

Not a chance.
This is business.

Regarding the m*rder of Sergeant Black,

does the Boston PD have any comment
about the Credle Corporation?

What's that?

I'll take that as a none.

Hey, Pollack.

If you know something...

Read tomorrow's paper.

Quantifiable growth data.

Cold climate variable.

Hey.

I was passing by the lab.

It's Leo Fulton's chest x-rays.

- Thanks, love.
- Sure.

Hey, who's this?

Uh, it's Leo Fulton's son.

Yeah, looks like Leo Fulton's son.

But how do we know for certain
that's Leo Fulton's son?

Is that a trick question?

Well, let's just say
it's all bloody relative.

Good night.

Hey, Dad.

Hey, Abby.

Hello, Chad.

What's up, Garret?

Would you two like to join me
for some Peking Duck at Yang Chow?

Dude,

we're vegan.

It's a big menu.

Come on.

Sorry, Dad.

We already have plans.

Look, do you think I could
borrow $ from you?

What happened to the money
I just gave you?

Have you seen the price of gas?

Why don't you ask your mom?

Well, she said, since I was
staying with you...

I just paid you tuition
for next semester,

so things are pretty tight.

Maybe before you go back.

Yeah, actually, about that.

I...

kind of dropped out.

You what?

You know I only went
because you wanted me to.

I just wanted to experience
life firsthand, you know?

Not... not just read about it
in some book.

Hey, is this your idea?

Abby's her own person.

I just don't wanna make
the same mistake that you did.

I mean, come on, Dad.

You wanted to be a novelist, and...

now look at you.

You want to drop out, Abby?
Fine.

You need money,

get a job.

Pollack, use your key.

Wrong guy.

It's : in the morning.
What're you doing here?

Look at what just hit the stands.

[font color=BFEFFF] The Boston Chronicle
m*rder*d soldier uncovered
faulty armor used by troops[/font]

Sergeant Black was about
to expose a cover-up.

This case just went big time.

"According to an anonymous source,

Sergeant Black was investigating
potential flaws in body armor

made by the Credle Corporation
for the U.S. Army."

Soldiers go into combat thinking
they're protected, but they're not.

Their job isn't dangerous enough.

After Pollack asked me about
the Credle Corp, I ran a check.

It's a $ million business
right here in Boston.

They make everything
from speakers to blenders.

But no red flags.

My next stop is their CEO's office.

Meanwhile,

you need to talk to Pollack.

Why? I'm sure everything he knows
is there in black and white.

Yeah. Everything except for
the name of his source.

The word 'anonymous' usually means
someone does not want to get involved.

Though.

If this source has information
that could lead us to our k*ller,

we need it.

And if Pollack doesn't
want to cooperate,

I'll get the D.A.
to subpoena his ass.

Thanks.

Pollack.

Cavanaugh.

I'm glad you're here.

I suppose we need to talk.

We do, uh, but
this isn't a social call.

The source.
I need a name.

And I need a new car.

Doesn't mean I'll get one.

J.D., this is serious.

"Congress shall make no law
prohibiting freedom of the press."

Sound familiar?

Yeah, The First Amendment,
I'm well aware.

But this is a m*rder investigation.

We're trying to get
a k*ller off the streets.

If I give you my source, I could be
putting another life at risk.

Woody can offer them protection.

Oh, could he, now?

So that's why you're here,
to do his bidding.

Come on, J.D.

We're both after the same thing here.

Are we?

Yeah. The truth.

Yeah, well,

not everyone can handle it.

Pollack.

Pollack!

Name's Chad Wasserman.

Early s.
LIves in Albany.

Anything you can find out.

Woody, thanks a lot.

Leo Fulton Jr. is not a junior.

In fact, he's not even a Fulton.

What's this?

That's Leo Jr.'s employment physical
from two months ago.

Note that blood type.

A-O.
Leo Sr.'s blood type is a B,

which means they can't be related.

So some other guy fathered him.

Not some other guy.

Other parents.

A picture's worth a thousand words.

You think Leo Jr.'s Henry Hurst?

I'd bet my accent on it.

I'm sure the Hursts
identified their son

when they buried him years ago.

You see, the boy was discovered
during the spring thaw,

decomposed beyond recognition.

The only identifying factor
was his clothing.

And since DNA hasn't been
discovered yet...

So, what are you suggesting?

We ask Mr. Fulton
for a DNA sample

to prove the man he's called
father his whole life

is not only not his father,
but is, in fact,

the man who stole him
from his real family?

- Does sound a bit harsh.
- Yeah.

We could exhume the boy's body.

Test his DNA.

Prove he's not Henry.

And if we're wrong, we put the Hursts
through the wringer all over again.

But if we're right,

they get a second chance
to know their son.

Hmm.

If this was Abby,

wouldn't you want that chance?

Go ahead and issue the subpoena.

His full name is
John Douglas Polack.

You'll probably be able to serve him
at the "Chronicle" offices.

Thanks.

Hey, are these butterscotch?

Go on. They're sugar-free.

My favorites.

That soldier who was k*lled,

did he have a family?

No wife. No kids.

His parents live in Vermont.

Did he ever, um, call up here?

He ever stop by?

I'm afraid not.

Yes, Mr. Credle.
You can go on in.

The first I heard of Sergeant Black

was that artilce of lies
in The Chronicle.

So you deny the accusations
that your vests are flawed?

Our contract with the U.S Army
guaranteed a five-year warranty.

We have documentation
backing that claim.

Beth, bring in the body armor
test results, please.

How big a contract
are we talking here?

$ million.

That's a nice chunk of change.

As honored as I am
to work with our m*llitary,

I am in the business of
making money, Detective.

Still, you stand to lose a lot
if the accusations are true.

Thanks, Beth.

The vests were tested under
the most rigorous conditions.

I even allowed myself to be
sh*t at to prove their durability.

That's a commitment to quality.

Uh, fells, about
this anonymous source,

any thoughts on who that could be?

Employees come and go.

Not all of them by choice.

Someone wanted to get back
at Mr. Credle or the company,

fabricating this story
would be an effective way.

It still doesn't account for
the m*rder of Sergeant Black.

I'm sorry that we can't be
of more help, Detective.

Oh, Mr. Credle,
just one last question.

Can you account for your
whereabouts Tuesday evening

between : p.m. and midnight?

I'm offended that
you would even ask.

Flying back from Aspen on my jet.

Thank you very much
for your time, gentlemen.

So Credle didn't pull the trigger.

Doesn't mean he didn't get
someone else to do his dirty work.

Which brings us back to
your pain-in-the-ass Aussie.

Pollack's anonymous source
is still our best bet.

Speaking of which
his hearing is about to start.

You subpoenaed him?

He left me no choice.

Unlucky for him, Judge Patterson

has zero tolerance
for journalistic integrity.

Okay, and this has nothing
to do with the fact

he punched you in the gut?

I plead the Fifth.

Be nice, okay?

Aren't I always?

That's rhetorical, right?

Bug, what's going on?

This is Colonel Wirth.

The Army's conducting its own investigation
into Sergeant Black's death.

Good, we'll be
working together, then.

That's not how the Army works.

They're confiscating
Sergeant Black's remains.

Over my dead body.

I have direct orders
from the Pentagon.

That means jack to me.

Bring me a federal court order,
we'll talk.

He has one.

Did you know about
Sergeant Black's investigation?

If I'd known,
maybe he'd still be alive.

But the Army is pulling the vests from use
while they investigate, right?

You go to w*r with what you have,
not what you want.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

It was stormy that night.

And I heard a noise.

I thought it was the shutters.

If I'd only gotten up.

When we lost Henry,
we lost everything.

My family's business.

The estate.

We nearly lost each other.

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst,
I thought long and hard

before coming here and
dredging up the past.

I'd like your permission
to exhume your son's body.

Why?

Some new evidence has come
to light in your son's case.

They... catch his k*ller?

No.

Doctor, please,
if you know something...

Look, I'm not sure,

but it's possible
the boy you buried wasn't your son.

Are you...

Are you saying that
Henry might still be alive?

I'm saying that the boy
you buried might not be Henry.

By exhuming his body,
we can extract his DNA

and run some tests,
and be sure.

Do it.

Okay.

Last chance, Pollack.

Like I told the judge,
I'm a man of my word.

Knock yourself out.

John Douglas Pollack,

I'm placing you
under arrest for contempt.

You have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can and will

be used against you
in a court of law.

Without Greg's body,
I'm gonna have to get creative.

Look, I could get in a lot
of trouble for doing this.

Come on.

How many of our soldiers
use these in Iraq?

, .

If I can figure out
where the flaw is,

maybe it'll get us
one step closer to the k*ller.

You know, Greg's buddy who
was k*lled a few days ago?

Greg told me that his vest failed,

but I didn't put
two and two together

until I saw this morning's paper.

Did you know his name?

Yeah, Private First Class
Christopher Gurney.

He and Greg went to
high school together.

- So, then he's from Boston?
- Yes.

Can you get me in touch
with his next of kin?

Yeah.

Christopher was stationed
in Baghdad.

How was he k*lled?

An ambush.

They said he d*ed instantly.

I'm so sorry for your loss.

Me, too.

You think this is true?

Is one of these faulty vests
responsible for my son's death?

That's what we want to find out.

Do you know for sure
that he had his vest on?

His bunkmate wrote a detailed
account of the incident.

He confirmed that the private was
wearing his vest when he d*ed.

He was due to come home
in just a few weeks.

We'll find out what happened
to your son, Mrs. Gurney.

You have my word.

Thank you.

Tempting.

Thanks, guys.

Hey, back off!

She's with me.

Am I?

That's news to me.

Why are you here, Cavanaugh?

I'm worried about you.

Well, thanks, but I don't
need your sympathy.

Massachusetts doesn't
have shield laws.

By the time you get
in front of a grand jury,

you'll be an old man.

Give me time to write
that novel I always wanted.

I know you're trying
to be ethical here,

but there's more
than one life at stake.

Well, I guess you need to have
ethics to understand them.

You got something to say,
just say it.

Yeah, you really
want to do this here?

Yeah. At least here,
you're a c*ptive audience.

Fine. I'm bloody pissed at you
for screwing this up.

We had something good going.

I thought we were happy.

At least, I was.

And then you had to go sabotage it
by jumping into bed with farm boy.

I don't know why
it happened, but it...

It wasn't meant to hurt you.

Everything happens
for a reason, Cavanaugh.

Everything.

And you know why
I think this did?

So I could see the real you...

before I did something really stupid.

- Hey.
- Hi.

You visit Pollack?

Yeah. Wish I hadn't.

What's all this?

Chronicle sent over the contents
of Pollack's desk.

They figure if they cooperate,
it'll sway the judge to let him go.

Will it?

Doubtful.

This should cr*ck the case.

Hey, Jordan, I wouldn't...

open that.

Well, you think you know someone
and then you find out

they're on a completely
different page.

How does that happene?

You're a complicated girl, Jordan.

Not everybody gets you.

Listen, maybe you should...

I'll autopsy Private Gurney.

Find out if his body
armor k*lled him.

It's a good idea.

Probable cause of death is
a cm blow to the skull.

Hey.

Have either of you guys
seen a pair of glasses?

Try the lab.

Since when do you wear glasses?

They're Jeffrey's.

Is this Henry Hurst?

Well, let me get this to the lab
and we'll find out.

Wait, wait, NIgel.
Hold it.

Spider fractures
in the wrists and fingers.

And the feet and ankles as well.

He was abused?

That many breaks look like OI.


Yeah.

That's Osteogenesis Imperfecta,

otherwise known as
brittle bone disease.

It's a genetic disorder with
a life expectancy of under years.

Death is usually caused
by respiratory failure.

When you run that for DNA,
test for the OI genetic marker as well.

If a blow to the head
didn't k*ll him,

chances are this disease did.

Woody just faxed this over to you.

It's police records
for Chad Wasserman.

Garret,

are you sure
you want to do this?

I have a right to know
who's dating my daughter.

Okay?

Oh. Hey, Bug.

Uh... have you seen
a pair of glasses?

Give my... best to Brandau.

Listen,

I've been thinking...

about what you said
to me last week.

Trying to figure out a way
to move past this.

Lily,

it's okay.

No, it's not.

You have feelings for me and...

And you don't for me,
and it is okay.

I... am over it.

A few days ago,
you said it wasn't okay.

You said you've had these feelings
for me for three years.

I know, and it's weird. I...

the second I told you
how I felt,

it's like those feelings
just disappeared.

So... you're...

not in love with me anymore?

You know, I have always
had this fantasy that

you and I would get together

and it has been like
a broken record.

Going over and over
inside my head.

And when I finally heard myself
say it out loud,

it's like I jumped over the skip.

Oh, you know what?

It feels great.

I...

I feel like I am facing
a whole new world of possibilities.

Oh!

Good.

Oh, that is good.

Yes, yes. So...

thank you.

- Oh!
- Thanks.

- Sure.
- Okay.

Okay.

See ya.

Hey. I may have found
our smoking g*n.

Private Gurney.

A high velocity b*llet
was lodged in his spine.

Without protective gear,
it would've snow-stormed the bone.

Which means?

His body armor slowed
the b*llet down, but...

not enough to save his life.

What did you find?

Um, an identical copy of
the body armor test results

that Clark Credle gave me,
with one addition.

Water?

I don't know what it means.

Fire in the hole!

Bug!

Oh, hey, you guys.

Hey, Bug.
Do you mind?

Sorry.

What's going on?

Two body armor vests made
by the Credle Corporation.

The one on the right is the one
that Jordan got from Captain Osborne.

The one on the left

has been worn by a soldier
in Iraq for the past two years.

Now, visually,
they both look alike.

Except for one major difference.

Yeah, and here's another.

I did a comparative analysis
of the micro fibers.

See how the strand
on the new vest is tautly woven.

But on the used vest,

it's loose.

Why is it loose?

Hydrolysis.

Water.

More specifically, perspiration.

The used vest is loaded
with sodium chloride.

Now, the Credle Corporation
did test the vests

for all sorts of
Iraqui weather conditions.

Sun, heat, even rain.

But they never took into account
how much soldiers sweat.

Two years of perspiration

has reduced this armor's
effectiveness by over %.

Over , U.S. casualties in Iraq.

Makes you wonder.

Hey, Dad.

Hey, Abby.
Come on in.

Thanks for the cash.

I knew I could count on you.

Actually, I don't have any.

- Your message...
- I know. I lied.

Here.

- What's this?
- It's Chad's police record.

You had him checked out?

He's been busted three times.

Twice for possession
and once for dealing.

You really think you should be
throwing stones,

Mr. Two-Face DUI?
What about your police record?

I think you should watch
your mouth, you know?

I think I'm , and you keep
treating me like I'm a child.

You are a child.
You're my child.

Now, I want the truth.

Are you doing dr*gs
with this guy, yes or no?

What if I am?

It's the wrong answer.

What are you doing?

Give me back my stuff.

Dad, stop it!
Stop it.

- Let go of me!
- Shut up! Roll up your sleeves!

Let go of me!

Abby, Abby, I'm sorry.
Listen.

Let go!

Abby!

We just caught a break.

Bug found three different sets
of prints on the altered memo.

Pollack's, one he couldn't ID,
and Clark Credle's.

So Credle knew about the flaw
or at least suspected it.

That son of a bitch.

Now, if we could just link him
to Sergeant Black's m*rder.

I'm sorry, are those worms?

Thai glass noodles.

Sergeant Black's last meal.

I removed his stomach contents
before the Colonel took his body.

Hey, what's that?

Oh, it looks like the sergeant
had a sweet tooth.

This is totally gross, but
I think I know where he got it.

Hi, Beth. Sorry to interrupt
your lunch, but, um,

you have some explaining to do.

Sergeant Black was here
the day he d*ed.

You gave him one of these.

He came to see Mr. Credle.

I told him he couldn't without
an appointment, so he left.

Did he say why he was here?

Look, I'm just a secretary, okay?

I don't know anything.

You're way more than that, Beth.

You're the anonymous source.

We found your prints on this memo.

That reporter you talked to,

J.D. Pollack, he confirmed it.

Look, if you know anything about
Sergeant Black's death...

I don't.

What do you know?

What's the big deal?
You've already talked to the press.

If I come forward, I could
end up like Sergeant Black.

I'm a single mom.

Who'd look after my little girl?

We can protect you.

No.

The best way to protect myself
is to stay out of it.

Too late.
Like it or not, you're in it.

You got to see this through.

Call her, Garret.

Stay out of this, Lily, please.

Nigel, did you get the DNA results
on the dead boy?

Affirmative.
He's not Henry Hurst.

Then who is he?

He's the bilogical son
of Leo Fulton Sr.

And the OI genetic marker?

Came back positive.

Think about it,

you're a loving father who's
desperate to help his sick child.

Medical expenses add up,
especially on a gardener's salary.

You need money.

Which his employer happens
to have in spades.

So he makes a rash decision.

Kidnap his employer's son
for ransom money

so he can
keep his own son alive.

But the plan goes awry.

You get arrested

before you can collect the ransom
and return the child.

Your wife moves the boys to Philly
under an assumed name.

And while you're sitting in jail,
your own son dies.

When the Army approached
Mr. Credle,

they offered a year-long timetable.

Two months in,
they cut the deadline in half,

which meant we barely had
time to test the vests.

We delivered the order two days
before the w*r started.

The altered memo, when did
it come across your desk?

The same day
Sergeant Black came in.

And these two never crossed paths?

No.

I never even told Mr. Credle
about the sergeant's visit.

I was going to the next morning.

But when I saw the news...

Someone tipped Credle off.

I did think this was odd.

We won the bid for $ million

but the starting number
on the books was .

Which means that somebody
pocketed $ million.

You said the Army
came to Mr. Credle?

Yes.

You have a copy of that contract?

Well, well, well.
Look who's here.

In the Fulton's grief, they must
have decided to keep Henry,

you, to raise as their own.

But you don't have proof.

Your DNA could confirm it.

What...

What? You just swab my mouth

and just like that,
my father's not my father?

We know that
this is a lot to take in, but...

we thought you had
a right to know,

whatever the truth
turns out to be.

My dad came to every
Little League game,

put me through college.

When my mom d*ed, he didn't even
leave me alone for one night.

If what you're telling me is true,

this means my entire life is a lie.

It's obvious the man who raised you
loved you very much.

That' not a lie.

I need...

I need some time
to think about all this

with everything I have
to deal with right now.

Troops, ten-hut!

At ease.

Colonel!

How's your investigation coming?

I'm afraid that's confidential.

That's okay.

We already know who
k*lled Sergeant Black.

In fact, we're looking at him.

We confiscated your clothes
at the base laundry,

and we found traces of
the sergeant's blood on your pants.

How's it feel...

letting your fellow soldiers wear
body armor you know is defective

and then murdering one of them
just to cover your ass for money?

What are you talking about?

The $ million you pocketed
for bringing the contract to Credle.

You knew the vests were faulty
and did nothing.

The w*r was supposed
to be over by now.

Before the vests started to degrade.

Maybe you should've given George W.
a heads-up on your timetable.

Please, get him out of here.

They'll try Colonel Wirth
in m*llitary court.

Credle will face criminal charges
for accessory to m*rder and fraud.

The captain's offered
to help me organize

a class action suit against
the Credle Corporation.

And I'm contacting parents
and spouses of soldiers

who were wearing vests
when they d*ed.

All my research is at your disposal.

And put me on the stand, please.

Thank you for all your help.

I know I can't bring your son back.

Christopher joined the Army because
he wanted to make a difference.

Hopefully,

this will.

Mr. Fulton.

Hi, Leo.

I'm Gina Hurst.

I'm your mother.

Hey.

Hey.
When did you get out?

A few hours ago.

I meant to be out of here
before you got home.

My...

my editor thought
I could use some time away.

He put me on a story in D.C.

I leave first thing in the morning.

For how long?

Hard to say. Weeks.

Maybe months.

So...

You were right,

what you said at the jail.

I stabotaged this.

I guess I need to
figure out what I want.

I think you already know.

And what's really pathetic is
I actually tried this time.

I really tried.

I'm sorry.

It's not the first time
I've had my heart broken.

Probably won't be the last.

See you around, Cavanaugh.
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