01x18 - Dressed to k*ll

[bunniefuu]

(lively piano plays)

(indistinct chatter)

WOMAN: I need makeup over here, please.

(indistinct chatter)

MAN: I know, we're on time.

MAN : Come on, guys. Let's go.

♪ They call me a little grown-up ♪

♪ See, I'm upset
because I've always been stuck ♪

♪ But I don't know
what it is I'm without ♪

♪ Guess I'm in love
with always feeling down ♪

♪ Was fully consumed... ♪

MAN : Hey, want to finish her up?

♪ All of the plastic,
all are surely worn ♪

♪ I didn't ever show, I let it go ♪

♪ So I listen while I'm told ♪

♪ Sit back, don't think ♪

♪ Get high, take drink ♪

♪ Sit back ♪

♪ Don't think The more I listen... ♪

CHUNK: Bull.

Bull?

Hello?

(chuckles)

You and your observation game.

All right. What do you see?

This hair guy hates his model.

She's a handful.

And in the back there,
they're having an affair.

And your former boss
is one tough cookie.

Will, will you please keep up?

Nella's still a hard-ass.

That's Ms. Hard-Ass to you, Mr. Chunk.

Nella. You know my boss, Dr. Jason Bull.

You've only had one real boss,
and that was me.

Yes, ma'am.

Oh, and, uh, that's Will.

He's the new me.

Hi.

And I love your futuristic theme.

When do I get my iScarf?

When Will invents it.

Him and his fancy science degree.

God, he's such a disappointment.

Will?

If that reporter gets close
to the finale gown,

you're fired.

WILL: Okay. Got it.

Will.

Nella's still a**l about...

- Design theft, I know.
- Okay.

Thank you.

Hi there. I'm Jason.

Hi. I'm Allie.

Allie.

I know I look like a stoplight.

Well, you could definitely cause
a traffic jam or two.

Have a good show, Ms. Stoplight.

Welcome to Fashion Week.

♪ I'm gonna start a fight... ♪

BULL: We met in this exact spot

three years ago.

You wouldn't let me date whatshername.

I wouldn't let you?

Jason, he saved you.

I saw that girl,

and you dodged a m*ssile.

Chunk, it looks like you finally did

something right in the fashion world.

You know what? Don't come for me today.

Okay? I'm here for the show.

Chunk. It's okay.

You look gorgeous, J.

♪ I'm gonna shake it down. ♪

(music changes): ♪ Hit the road, Jack ♪

♪ And don't you come back
no more, no more ♪

♪ No more, no more... ♪

CHUNK: That's Kira Petrova,

new face of Nella Wester's
print campaign.

Look at that silhouette.

♪ No more, no more, no more, no more ♪

♪ Hit the road, Jack ♪

♪ Don't you come back no more ♪

♪ Hit the road, Jack, and don't
you come back no more ♪

♪ No more, no more, yow... ♪

♪ ♪

(phone vibrating)

Not everybody can pull off
white gold, but she does it.

Ah. Speaking of white gold. Diana.

- Texas Diana?
- (chuckles) Yes.

Oh. Oh, my.

It's dirty, isn't it?

She knows where I am, she's
just trying to distract me.

CHUNK: I knew I liked her.

(languid techno music begins)

WOMAN: (gasps) It's Nella, not Kira.

And she wasn't
even supposed to model today.

(cheering, applause)

- (whoops)
- (delighted cheering)

♪ ♪

WOMAN: Brava! Brava!

Once a model, always a model.

She's still got it.

Nella! Nella! Oh, my God!

Is there a doctor in the house?

I need some help.

We're at the Armory. My friend,

she's collapsed. She's not breathing.

I can't get a pulse.

And we need some help, you got to hurry.

Would you stop taking pictures?

NEWS ANCHOR: The fashion world
is in mourning

after the sudden death of
renowned designer Nella Wester.

Rumors have surged lately

that she had an undisclosed
heart condition.

Sources close to Wester say
she's a recovering drug addict

but had been clean for years.

As fashion luminaries gather
at a service later today,

the medical examiner's office
works hard to determine

the cause of Nella Wester's death.

JESSICA: I just know
it was a brain aneurism.

My aunt had one.

Dropped dead in the middle
of Thanksgiving dinner.

Jessica, it was a seizure.

I saw her face when she d*ed.

It was a mask.

Easy.

People are hardwired to gossip.
It releases endorphins.

Fine, fine.

I'll say it: Nella O.D.'ed.

She didn't sew, but
she loved her needles.

Chunk, I know it hurts.

Brent. She's been clean
for ten years, shut up.

BRENT: Jean-Carlo, you're so sensitive.

Who's Prince Charming?

He's Brent Orlov.

Nella's biggest competitor,

and a vile, vindictive douche.

Hi, Chunky.

You afraid he's right?

That she fell off the wagon?

No.

Well...

This is crazy.

There's one way to find out.

Hey, Dr. Bull.

Tough day.

Yeah. Uh, this is Kira,

my fiancée.

Oh, congratulations.

Thank you.

I am a lucky one.

Will, I have one question for you.

Was Nella using heroin?

- Bull.
- PIKE: Excuse me.

What? Excuse me.

BULL: If it isn't Neil Pike.

Ah, Jason Bull.

Did you know Nella Wester d*ed
of arsenic poisoning?

- (people gasping)
- MAN: What?

Oh, my God.

Are you sure?

Yeah. It was no accident.

Her dress was infused
with trivalent arsenic,

which absorbs through the skin.

She was dead the minute
she put on that dress,

she just didn't know it yet.

Oh, my God.

William Mercado,

you are under arrest for her m*rder.

What? You, you can't be serious.

Kira, let him go. This is a mistake.

- Let him go.
- Wait. No.

- WILL: You can't be serious.
- BULL: Go, Chunk.

What... What did you do?

Nothing. I swear.

What's your favorite game, Will,
checkers or chess?

Don't think about it, just answer.

Uh, neither. I like Pictionary.

PIKE: Will Mercado wanted
to watch Ms. Wester die.

It wasn't enough to k*ll,
he had to humiliate.

It's sickening. Numerous employees...

What are we doing?

Due diligence.

PIKE: ...and heard Mercado

thr*aten to k*ll her. He simply snapped.

And he's got a PhD in chemistry.

Are you done now?

Pike's a renegade.

Forces early arrests so he can
pressure people to plead out.

He's a bully with the NYPD as muscle.

No.

What?

You want to defend the man

that k*lled my friend?

What if Will didn't do it?

And you get this how?

He's not a chess player.

(scoffs)

Think about the spectacle of the crime.

Nella dying right as
she hits the runway.

The right amount of poison.

The right amount of time.

It takes planning.
Thinking six moves ahead.

This...

wasn't chess, Bull.

She was my mentor.

I know, Chunk.

KIRA: Mr. Pike, they wouldn't
let me go with him.

PIKE: It's not a field trip, miss.

He's a criminal suspect.

KIRA: Will couldn't have done this.

Can you at least tell me
where they took him?

Look, I can't help you.

KIRA: Please. Please.

If facts reveal
Will may not have done it...

are you willing to just sit by?

Let's at least look into it.

Okay.

Bull.

You better be right.

So, Nella had full-time employees,

dozens of contractors,
several million in loans

and a handful of volatile investors.

And she was abusive.

Lots of people
could have wanted her dead.

Speaking of which.

Temp forgot to charge my phone.

Again? When are you going
to replace your assistant?

When I find someone I like.

Bull, it's been a month.

The temps ain't cutting it.

I knew I should have brought Chunk.

What? Why?

So he could give you
side-eye the whole time

for taking the case? Be glad I'm here.

Does someone need me to tell her
that she is loved and needed?

There's the side-eye.

After you.

Will Mercado totally k*lled her.

You sound convinced, Delilah.

You would be, too,

if you got an e-mail
saying he was going to k*ll her.

I gave it to the police, of course.

Of course.

Do you know
if the police will be returning

the wedding dress back to us?

Ugh, that dress.

It took a dozen people , hours

to create that wedding gown.
Now all of it's headed

to some toxic waste dump,

just like this place.

- (sighs) Poor Nella.
- Giancarlo.

Changing wardrobe?

Well, I designed this
for Nella's menswear collection.

Brent Orlov is throwing

some ritzy black-tie-only
tomorrow night,

and this will come in handy.

You regularly hang out
with Nella's biggest rival?

I'm looking for a job, okay?

This place is done.

And so are we.

MARISSA: Will.

You made bail.

I am that good, yes.

Kira.

Oh.

Oh, I'm so glad you're here.

I'm so sorry. Thank you for coming.

KIRA: Where else would I be?

They look happy.

Come with us.

- Here's your bag.
- Thank you.

Yeah.

You know why Bull took the case?

You.

Right.

He's knows how much Nella meant to you.

Wants to make sure the right
person goes down for the crime.

Take it from me:

you do, too.

DIANA (on phone): Hi, baby.

Diana! How's Texas?

DIANA: Big.

How are those models at Fashion Week?

Tall.

Yeah, just you and Chuck.

Tearing it up like Butch and
Sundance, pre-Bolivia.

Yeah, that's us.

(chuckles) Well, careful there,
Sundance.

You don't want that
fall fashion to k*ll you.

(sighs)

Hello?

Is it too soon to ask
what you're wearing?

You know, I do like you.
You are so easy.

Only with you.

Yeah, I got myself a pair of your pants

lying around here somewhere to prove it.

You're not wearing them?

DIANA: Baby, I'm not wearing a thing.

Bad news.

The prosecution found
arsenic in Will's hands.

I handled the wedding dress at the show.

Marissa, we need a doctor
in a white coat to say that.

Expert witness, got it.

Also, Pike's got Will's e-mail

- threatening Nella.
- (sighs)

"I'm gonna k*ll Nella, I swear to God.

"She's a..." bad word,

"who deserves to die screaming."

Let's not let Chunk see that.

I didn't mean it literally.

I said the same thing
about Giancarlo two days ago.

Not helping, Will.

What does the prosecution's
evidence all have in common?

It's all circumstantial.

It requires the jury to
look at a bunch of dots

and perceive a pattern
that says "guilty."

We need to sell the idea

that A.D.A. Pike is weaving a tale.

He is creating something out of nothing,

and we need to find jurors
who don't like that.

So we need practical people.

That's right. No Picassos.

No storytellers, artists
or abstract thinkers.

Left-brain only.

BENNY: Mrs. Jefferson,

do you like dogs?

I own three pit bulls. Why?

Dogs? Really, Bull?

Sometimes I think
you make this stuff up.

It's called random correlation.

Practical people tend to like
classical music and dogs.

Ergo, we like Wanda Jefferson.

Juror number four, on the other hand,

the doodler?

Way too creative.

We thank and excuse Juror Number Four.

♪ Ain't no love... ♪

What other random correlations
have you found

to identify practical people?

Do you keep a journal?

- No.
- Hmm-mm.

Do you wear a watch?

Now, if you were a dinosaur,
what kind would you be?

JUDGE AKINTOLA: We have a jury.

The People are ready, Your Honor.

Ladies and gentlemen.

This is a case of premeditated
and cold-blooded m*rder.

MARISSA: Not a bad haul.

We have six very practical jurors,

and two others leaning that way.

Four creatives.

Now it's time for us to get creative.

Crullers from Sadie's.

Look at that.

My favorite Sadie's? In the Bronx?

minutes away?

I was in the neighborhood.

Trying to make me feel better?

Why? Would that work?

Marissa, anything yet?

Yeah. Mirror jury results came in.

Oliveira, Jefferson

and Whistler responded to
Benny's opening statement.

But not Andrew Wong... Odd.

CABLE: Well, Wong's a financial planner.

I mean, maybe he's more creative

than we gave him credit for.

BULL: No. It's his clothes.

Monday, black pants, black shirt.

Tuesday, black pants, green shirt.

Wednesday... you get the idea.

He likes his black pants.

But not fashion.

He is threatened
by Will's cool-kid vibe.

CHUNK: Everyone expresses their fashion,

whether they're aware of it or not.

It's how we interact
with the environment.

CABLE: (snorts) Right.

Ah, Cable.

You're trying to say you're
counter-cultural and unique.

But the hipster effect...

and it is a real thing...

says that you really just
look like every other hipster.

Not so unique.

Case in point.

And Marissa.

You love to dress up.

And I would say

that your high heels
flatter your lovely figure,

were I not your boss, so...

Were I not your employee,
I would say thank you.

Chunk, what is Bull's
psychological fashion profile?

Cardigans.

Professional but not overt.

He hides behind the suit... Dark colors.

Same look every day.

WILL: Stylish.

Gives him the ability
to watch or be watched.

A man for all seasons.

BULL: Well, I know you two put
a lot of thought into appearance,

so, clearly, you're gonna have
no problem

figuring out a look for Will

that stops scaring Mr. Wong.

Right, Chunk?

Yeah.

On it.

BENNY: So the prosecution just dropped

a revised witness list... two new names.

Giancarlo Sartor and Brent Orlov.

Nella Wester's number two guy
and her competitor.

They must have damaging testimony.

We need to talk to them
and find out what it is.

I happen to know where they'll
both be tonight, in a tux.

Marissa, slip on your
favorite high heels.

We're going to a party.

Brent Orlov is my favorite designer.

Stop having fun, Marissa.

We're here to work.

It's time to get down to business.

(indistinct chatter, loud music playing)

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

All right, we're here

to cross-examine witnesses.

Think of it as

a sexier People's Court.

People in $ , dresses.

Cable, you didn't see that.

I totally saw that, but I won't tell.

- Hi.
- Gemma.

So this is Marissa Morgan, she...

Do you mind zipping me?
I'm alone tonight.

I couldn't quite reach.

Why do I not believe that?

Oh, shut up.

Was that shade?

I think that was shade.

I'm weirdly flattered.

And there's Orlov.

BULL: Fire engine red,

and that married couple he's talking to.

The wife is having an affair with Orlov.

Really?

BULL: And so is her husband.

MARISSA: I will make sure

not to bring that up,
and you go find Giancarlo.

Mmm.

Two-drink maximum.

Ah.

♪ ♪

Kira.

Hey. Didn't expect to find you here.

I really like those shoes.

Thank you.

They're amazingly comfortable.

Ah. Lucky you.

- You look gorgeous.
- Thank you.

Come.

Brent Orlov.

I know who you are.

I'm Marissa.

Marissa.

Can I just tell you

what your fall collection meant to me?

Please.

The embroidery

on the chiffon and tulle gowns

was a master class in wearable poetry.

Well, I'm so glad you like to read.

You must allow me to
write something on you.

I would love that.

My pleasure.

You know fashion on a runway.

I know fashion in a courthouse.

And the key to sartorial
success in court

is to make the jury comfortable.

Chunk, thank you for doing this.

To make this jury comfortable,

you will dress down.

None of that hipster
fashionista happening vibe.

Look, I-I want you to...

These are people that value function.

You dress for fashion.

You wear bright colors,
they'll hate you.

You wear weird, cool fabrics,

- they'll hate you.
- Sure, man.

- I just need to tell you...
- Those socks are both.

Lose 'em.

I didn't k*ll Nella.

I swear.

Wear these instead.

MARISSA: What are you gonna
say in court tomorrow?

Must be fascinating

if the prosecution wants you
on the stand.

It is.

Will Mercado asked me to find him

an arsenic supplier.

Something about making a dye.

"Die." (laughs)

Nella...

Arsenic was used in fabric dyes
in the th century, who knew?

It k*lled a lot of Victorians.

I'm looking up suppliers now.

You can't be too unhappy
about her death, though.

I mean, you two were rivals, right?

And, God, did she have an ego.

Bragged that she was creating
something revolutionary.

"Revolutionary."

Said it would change
the face of couture.

- Oh.
- I've been an awful host.

Please allow me to
get you something else.

BULL: What are you saying
in court, Giancarlo?

What am I saying in court?
Just what I saw.

When I went back, Will Mercado
was spraying something

on the wedding dress.
Was it arsenic? No idea.

You think he k*lled her?

Before, I would have said no.

He's such a nerd, right?

But, I mean, nicest guy in the world.

Bull, I may have something for you.

Was Nella working on anything
revolutionary?

Game-changing?

A new line, maybe?

Game-changing? No.

Oh, crap, I wonder if
that's what got stolen.

Stolen?

Her studio got broken into?
You didn't mention that.

It was the night after Nella d*ed.

They broke into the safe.

And I don't even know

what they took; she was so secretive.

Tupac could have been in there.
Oh, Anderson!

Game-changing. Theft.

Huh.

Hey. Oh, look.

It's Stoplight. She was
at the fashion show.

Hello, Allie.

Hello.

How's modeling?

I'm retiring.

Model years are like dog years
and I just turned , so...

(laughs) Yeah. One foot in the grave.

Right. Well,

a smart girl like you,

I'm sure you'll land on your feet.

Hope so. (laughs)

It's too bad about
that break-in at Nella's studio.

She got robbed? Of what?

Nella was working on some kind of

cutting edge, revolutionary thing.

Oh...

She did ask a few of the models

at the show if they'd be
available for a campaign

- in the fall.
- What kind of a campaign?

I don't know. I didn't make the cut.

I walk in the room and
all she wants to do

is look at my feet.

And I was a dancer,
so there's a whole lot of bad

going on down there.

Feet.

(chuckles) Shoes.

Raise your arm.

So, how long were you Nella's assistant?

CHUNK: Two years.

Two long years.

Some days, I wanted to k*ll her.

But when I wanted to go to Vogue,

she wrote the greatest
recommendation letter

I've ever read.

Except for when Kira said yes,

the best day of my life was
when Nella hired me.

(scoffs)

Nobody else would have given me a sh*t.

Same here.

(Kira laughs)

- Now, that's what I call a party.
- BULL: Kira.

Nice shoes.

Thank you. Will got them for me.

Ah. You know where he got them?

Uh... I have to go.

Kira, does Will have

the combination to Nella's safe?

I really have to go.

You know what,
this'll only take a minute.

And they're very important questions.

Bull, you're late.

Don't worry, Pike called
a motions hearing. It'll be

- about an hour.
- Benny, we have a problem.

Kira wouldn't tell us everything,

but I think Will stole
a pair of shoes from Nella.

Shoes? Why?

Believe it or not, they may be valuable.

Nella's been working on something big,

and these shoes may be it.

Pike has this,

he has a much stronger case.

Bull, I got to go.

PIKE: Judge Akintola,

I move that you allow into evidence

a security video
from Nella Wester's studio.

Your Honor, the D.A.'s office is
springing yet another surprise.

We just got the video
this morning, Your Honor.

It's from the night
after the victim was m*rder*d.

You know I hate surprises, Neil.

Play the damn tape.

PIKE: That's Nella Wester's office.

: in the morning.

That's her wall safe.

And that

is the defendant,
stealing from the victim.

Your Honor, this video
has not been authenticated.

Stealing shoes? So what?

According to designs

found on the victim's laptop,

those shoes are a prototype.

For a revolutionary new kind

of stiletto heel, one that

more evenly distributes
weight, so it's comfortable.

The experts I've talked to say
it could be worth

hundreds of millions of dollars.

And that is motive

for m*rder.

A golden ticket

worth hundreds of millions.

The defendant k*lled Nella

and stole the prototype shoes.

Objection!

These are simply the facts of the case.

Marissa, by any chance,

is almost the entire jury against us?

Yep. They're now breaking
to one, guilty.

BENNY: Well,

that blew our trial strategy
out of the water.

The jury that was gonna save our
client's now gonna hang him.

Chunk, I know this looks bad...

Bad? And yet you're here,
still trying to save him.

Will k*lled her.

We don't have all the facts yet.

We have enough.

And here's one more.

I won't be a part of this.

You didn't tell us about the shoes.

(sighs) I knew it made me look guilty.

You do now.

Why did you steal the prototype?

I didn't steal it. I created it.

Oh, you did.

I started with the engineering problem:

what's the best way to balance
over pounds of water

on two tiny stilts?

Plastic resin shank, polymer stiletto.

I made it completely on my own.

When I went to Nella with the
designs, she promised to help.

Even promised me a promotion.

And I fell for it.

I was grateful.

But something happened.

After she d*ed,

I found out she was talking to a lawyer

about patenting the designs herself.

Nella was the thief, not me.

Huh.

Help me understand something.

Giancarlo said he saw you

spraying something
into the wedding dress.

Yeah. Stiffener,

like we always do at shows.

Gianni knows that.

What about Orlov?

He told Bull that you asked him
where to buy arsenic.

Sure. Arsenic's got a lot
of industrial uses.

Nella asked me to look into it
for a dye.

For a ribbon.

But I decided the stuff's
way too dangerous.

Okay.

We need all the evidence that
proves the design was yours.

E-mails, computer files...

Nella made me destroy all of it.

She said... she said we had to
protect the design from theft.

BENNY: I want to put Will on the stand.

He can explain the tape.

We're playing defense.

We need to blow Pike out of the water.

We need an alternative suspect.

Wester's employees?

Suppliers, investors, ex-lovers?

Danny came up empty.

CABLE: I've got a possible.

StitchBeast .

Looks like Will is not the only one

stealing Nella Wester's property.

Someone by the name of StitchBeast

is selling off the studio's
clothes on the dark net.

How much?

$ , worth, this week.

Any chance you want
to get me something special?

BENNY: Yeah. A suspect in Will's m*rder.

Where's Danny? We are going shopping.

Well, can I come?

(engine shuts off)

(coughs)

You're StrongLikeBull , right?
Looking to buy the red dress?

Well, hi, Delilah.

DANNY: Stealing from your dead boss?

Let's chat.

BULL: You know how this looks, right?

I didn't k*ll Nella.

I wasn't even at the show.

Then why are you so scared
if you're not guilty?

Maybe because you know who is?

No. How would I know that?

Oh, Delilah,

you do realize you can't shrink.

Right, Danny? She can...

curl her body up slightly,
pull her knees

into her chest, but she's
still gonna be right there.

Mm.

- I can see her.
- Yeah.

We can see you.

So let's start at the beginning,

with the truth.

What's up?

We got a suspect.

A good one.

Great, let's put 'em on the stand.

It's our client's fiancée.

Kira?

- Mm.
- Really?

Kira was scheduled
to model that wedding dress,

but she bailed at the last minute.

Left the building.

So Nella had to step in

and wear the dress.

(groans) Damn, Bull.

Kira swore the one person
who knew about it to secrecy.

Apparently, she was, uh,
pretty scary about it, too.

Sounds like reasonable doubt
for our client.

We'll put Kira on the stand tomorrow.

I got to talk to Will
about this. He doesn't know.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Don't... don't tell him.

He'll tell her.

He is head over heels for her,
literally.

For this to work,
I need to come after her.

We're accusing the woman
he loves of m*rder.

Well, yeah.

She may have done it.

You want him to flip out
in front of the jury?

Are you trying to save Will's life

or are you trying
to save his relationship?

Both.

And I'm trying to get Chunk
to stick with me.

See what I'm doing? It's a trifecta.

I'm gonna tell Will tomorrow.

Hey, Jason.

Well, look at you,

still at the office.

Yes,

Skype.

Are you checking up on me?

Well, now I don't have
to ask what you're wearing.

So did you finish the brief yet?

Now, how'd you know
I was working on a brief?

Because you always talk dirty

when you get stuck on an argument.

Well, right now, I'm reading the news.

You didn't tell me about Nella Wester.

Fashion Week

was less fun this year.

Why didn't you say anything?

It's complicated,

I guess.

Okay.

It's, uh, too real.

Not our relationship. I get it.

(drink splashing)

When's the brief due?

Tomorrow. The opposing counsel's

trying to muscle me into a settlement,

but they're gonna learn I don't muscle.

I bet they are.

Hmm.

You know, Jason, I was thinking, um,

maybe you might want to
come visit me some weekend.

Yeah, I'd like that.

Let's do it sometime.

Okay.

It's too real.
Not our relationship, I get it.

Come on, not at all.
What are you talking about?

It's okay.

All right, you go do what you got to do,

and tell Chunk I'm real sorry
to hear about his friend.

Good night, Jason.

Good night.

I can't figure out juror ten.

He's into sport fishing and yoga.

And he drives a Hummer...
I mean, what is he?

Not my case.

Of course. Sorry.

And I'm sorry about Nella.

She sounds like she was pretty amazing.

She was.

My first real boss, post-football.

She believed in me.

And you believed in her?

Of course.

That's a pretty amazing thing.

To believe in your boss.

MARISSA: Oh... my God.

These prototype shoes.

These are the most amazing things

I've ever had on my feet.

(chuckling)

(whispering): Revolutionary.

I don't understand.

You want to tell the jury

Kira k*lled Nella?

Will, you have a sh*t at acquittal.

If we put Kira on the stand
and grill her about the dress,

the jury will have reasonable doubt.

No, they won't. She didn't do it.

Really? Are you sure about that?

Why did she leave early?

After her first turn on the runway.

That is why Nella
had to wear the wedding dress.

Yeah, she said she got sick.

Aha. That's convenient, isn't it?

Do you really believe that?

People are complicated.

Maybe you don't know her
as well as you thought.

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

Did she have access to the key?

To where the dress was... did she?

She is hiding something.

I know it, and you can
see it too, can't you?

No, no way. She-she didn't k*ll Nella.

This keeps you out of prison.

- So the cops will go after my fiancée?
- Will, if you want

to save your life, let the jury wonder,

just for a second, if Kira did it.

Reasonable doubt. It's your best option.

It's best if I blacken
my future wife's name.

It's best if I risk her life
so I can walk free?

Who am I, then?

I'm committed to the woman I love.

I'm sorry that's so hard
for you to understand.

(knocking)

Hey. Will's gone.

I heard.

I don't know what he's gonna do.

You know where I can find him?

Kira has a gig at the Armory.

Midlea Carmichael's got a small show.

Thank you.

I'll drive.

What?

I'm not helping Will.

I'm helping you.

Okay.

Just... just one second, just, come on.

- I can't do this right now.
- Okay, just-just listen.

- I'm at work.
- Just listen for one second.

If you've done something...

no matter how bad... I want you
to know I don't care, Kira.

I don't care.

I love you.

We can get out.

- We can go. I-I...
- I wouldn't do that.

- Running would be idiotic.
- Yeah, I'm not

asking you. Get out of here.

Stay and fight, Will.

You found somebody.

Somebody you're committed to.

Some people can't even commit
to a weekend, you know that?

You want Will to stay and fight?

Kira...

did you k*ll Nella?

No.

Did you think that I did?

Well, you abruptly left the show.

That forced her to wear that dress...

the dress that k*lled her.

CHUNK: You're the same size, right?
Same stature?

What did you think
would happen after you took off?

I didn't take off.

Really? You're the face
of the Nella Wester's line,

you are wearing the big dress

of the evening, you're at
the height of your career,

and you disappear?

I need to know why.

Listen to me. Forget them.

Look at me. Tell me.

What happened?

Here, sit down.

What happened?

She fired me.

What?

W-Why didn't you tell me?

It was humiliating.

I knew that you would
yell at her and probably

get fired, too.

She didn't even have the balls

to do it herself.

Coward.

CHUNK: Wait. Nella didn't

actually tell you you were fired?

Who did?

CHUNK: Giancarlo.

BULL: What I didn't appreciate
is what a showman you are.

You love the theatrical side
of fashion, don't you?

The runway, the drama, the intrigue.

You're exactly
the kind of person who would

k*ll someone with a poison dress.

Don't be absurd.

You told Kira she was fired,
then you told Nella

Kira quit.

No time to find a replacement,
so Nella had to wear

- the wedding dress.
- What I don't understand

is why.

I know you didn't know about the shoes,

so it wasn't about the money.

It was a very personal crime,

designed to humiliate Nella.

Oh, Nella fired you, didn't she?

And then you told Kira

that Nella fired her,

'cause you were
passing along the cruelty.

It's middle child behavior.

Uh-oh. I wouldn't do that

- if I were you.
- Police!

Stop right there! Chunk was a...

All-American football star.

(grunting)

(sirens approaching)

Stay down!

Get off me! Get off me!

(indistinct police radio chatter)

After Giancarlo Sartor's
confession to the NYPD,

a search warrant was ex*cuted
on his apartment.

I can now announce
that C.S.U. has found traces

of a substance identified
as trivalent arsenic.

This afternoon, Mr. Sartor was charged

with the m*rder of Nella Wester.

All charges against William
Mercado have been dropped.

Oh, I can't believe it's over.

Giancarlo told NYPD that Nella fired him

so she could make you
her second in command.

Giancarlo snapped.

He couldn't take the idea
that she would fire him

over a newcomer like Will.

Have you guys seen Dr. Bull?

Mm-mm.

CHUNK: Hey. I have news.

A letter from Nella's patent attorney.

The patent for the prototype?

She was filing under your name.

Everything Nella said was true.

BULL: Look who I found.

- Hello.
- (chuckles): Hey.

- You ready?
- Yeah, yeah.

Okay. Dr. Bull,

uh, I'm glad we got to
thank you before we go.

Got a meeting with
some VC folks tomorrow.

Ah. Venture capital. Not Viet Cong.

Yeah, thanks for clearing that up.

They're interested in the prototype.

I'm hoping we get the shoes
on the market in months.

Wow. Congratulations.

Well, make sure
you send Marissa a free pair.

She loves those shoes.

Take care, you two.

You're very lucky.

So I was right about Will.

What, you want a medal?

Ah, Stoplight.

- Getting settled in?
- Yes,

- thank you.
- (chuckling): Hey.

What's she doing here?

Well, Allie is my new assistant.

Uh, she's from Wollongong, Australia.

Someone's got to keep this guy in line.

- (chuckles)
- (short chuckle) Oh, by the way,

- my friend Autumn, from the show?
- Mm.

She thought you were cute.

A model with daddy issues. Surprise.

- Well, I just texted you her number
- Mm.

And she wants to hear from you.

All right.

See you tomorrow.

Autumn's a nice name.

Good night.

(phone vibrates)

(chuckles)

Hey. It's Jason.

Got your message.

Want me to come by?

♪ Right here in the light ♪

I'm here.

♪ Hold me and don't you ♪

♪ Ever let this die ♪

(chuckles) Hey.

♪ Right here in the light ♪

Hey.

♪ In the daytime ♪

♪ Right here in the... ♪

If I said I missed you
would that be too real?

♪ Ever let this die... ♪

Just right.

(chuckles)

I'll make you some breakfast.

I didn't know you could cook.

I'm gonna make you my famous
phone call to the diner.

That sounds delicious.