03x17 - Ashes to Ashes

[bunniefuu]

I think she's dead!

It was a heart
att*ck, wasn't it?

I think he m*rder*d her the
same way he m*rder*d my sister.

Her hair was falling out.

She d*ed of cardiac arrest.

Falling hair is not a
symptom of heart trouble.

You know, he is stubborn.

Please don't criticize
my department.

Then, this is not purely social?

Strictly business.

What'll it be?
Laetrile? Cocaine?

Honey, I could kiss you.

Just like that?

As a matter of
fact, I think I will.

Gentlemen, you
are about to enter

the most fascinating
sphere of police work,

the world of forensic medicine.

Again! Again!

How about Misty? You always
liked that one, Mrs. Yager.

What's the matter with
Spanish Eyes, huh?

Nothing. Except, three times?

Last time. I'm sorry.

Last time.

Richard and I would play
Spanish Eyes all the time in Mexico.

You like Mexico?

We like Mexico.

Tijuana, crazy bars and fun.

Richard's my husband.

He doesn't like
to be called d*ck.

Richard.

Oh, those Spanish eyes...

Is there a doctor here? A
doctor? Please, we need a doctor.

I think she's dead!

I don't understand
your reluctance

to finalize this very,
very simple transaction.

Now, I flew up here
from Los Angeles

specifically so I could answer
any questions you might have.

But you don't seem to have
any. So, what's the holdup?

Mr. Graham?

Didn't I tell you, Ms. Becker?

No interruptions, I know.

But there seems to be a
most urgent call for Mr. Yager.

Los Angeles.

Well, I'll take it here.

On two.

Hello, this is Richard Yager
speaking. Who is this, please?

When?

Where is she now?

Yes. Yes. Immediately.

Gentlemen, I'm afraid we'll have to
continue this meeting some other time.

My wife d*ed of a
heart att*ck last night.

What we have
here, Sam, as I see it,

is myocarditis with possible
viral infection of the heart.

Anything unusual?

No. Except that for a
woman her age, it's unusual.

She's kind of young.

I wonder what
her alcohol level is.

It said she drank enough
to float a battleship.

She didn't drink
herself to death.

Liver's clean. No
indication of cirrhosis.

She wasn't a chronic alcoholic.

Well, then she sure must
have tied one on last night.

Probably a several-days binge.

Marie Yager.

It's unofficial. She hasn't
been formally identified, yet.

Does she look sort
of familiar to you?

I think I've seen her picture
in the paper a couple of times.

Society page.

You read the society page?

Well, sure.

Another thing I can't
figure out, why the wig?

Now, what's so
strange about that?

It's the same color and
style as her own hair.

You know, I never
even noticed that.

Here's why.

Her hair was falling out.

Could it possibly be
the hair dye she used?

She didn't use dye.
That's her own color.

Quince, you're not starting to
suspect something, are you?

I mean, people do die, you know.

Not from falling
hair, they don't.

She d*ed of cardiac arrest.
You just said so yourself.

Falling hair is not a
symptom of heart trouble.

Why must there be a connection?

I'm not saying there is.

But you didn't say
there isn't one, either.

That's right.

I want you to take some random myocardial
samples, so we can get a slide series.

Well, here we go again.

You bet.

It's Marie.

Thank you.

You all right, Mr. Yager?

Yes, I'm sorry.

It's a shock.

I understand.

I'll be all right in a minute.

Take your time.

May I make arrangements
with the funeral home to

pick up Marie's
body this morning?

We have a few more tests to do.

Well, it won't take very long.

Tests for what?

To determine the
exact cause of death.

But it was a heart
att*ck, wasn't it?

They told me it
was a heart att*ck.

I don't see any need
for an autopsy at all.

You see, your wife did not
have a doctor in attendance.

State law requires, in such
cases, that we do an autopsy.

Now, I understand
how upsetting it is.

It's just routine, believe me. I
wouldn't concern myself with it.

In fact, I'll hurry Dr. Quincy. I'm
sure there won't be any problem.

No, no, there's no problem.

It's just that I'm not completely satisfied
that your wife d*ed of cardiac arrest.

Dr. Astin said...

What do you think she...
What do you think it was?

I don't know. That's why I want
to do a more complete autopsy.

Well, I hope it's not to
satisfy some medical curiosity.

Maybe we can learn
something from your wife's death

that will help us prevent
someone else's death.

I'm not interested
in somebody else.

I'm concerned about
my wife right now.

And I want her to have a decent funeral,
and a decent burial, as soon as possible.

Didn't you say that his initial
finding was that it was a heart att*ck?

Yes, I did.

So, what's the problem?

Yes, Dr. Quincy,
what is the problem?

Doesn't it surprise you,
Mr. Yager, that your wife,

young, apparently healthy,
suddenly dies of a heart att*ck?

As a matter of fact, it doesn't.

Oh?

She'd been complaining
of chest pains, lately.

Did she get them often?

Not in the beginning.

But she'd had them more
frequently in the last few months.

What did her doctor say?

You didn't know my wife.
She wouldn't go to a doctor.

Why not?

She claimed she
didn't trust them.

But I suppose the real reason
is, she didn't want to face the truth.

And, as it turns out, the truth
probably would have saved her life.

You know, the terrible
irony of all this is that,

when she was alive, I
couldn't get her to a doctor,

and now that she's dead, I
can't get her away from one.

Mr. Yager, as I said before,

I assure you that Dr. Quincy
will finish the autopsy quickly.

When will that be?

As soon as I get the
answer. Excuse me.

Dr. Quincy.

You already have the answer.

I don't have the
complete answer.

Oh, Sam. I'm going to see
Herman down at Microbiology.

Get a silver stain run on this.

Quincy, just a minute.

You're upset, huh? Yes, I
am upset. I'm very upset.

And I'll tell you, I
am disappointed, too.

In me?

No, no, in the Los Angeles
Dodgers. Of course, in you.

You know, you treat a
corpse with great reverence,

but your manner with the living,
well, that's something else again.

What's that? Listen.

I don't understand your
treatment of Mr. Yager.

The man is obviously
in a state of shock.

He needs all the sympathy
and understanding he can get.

Oh, he gets plenty of
understanding from me.

Maybe I understand him too much.

Really? What does that mean?

I think he's putting on an act.

An act? Yeah. I don't
think he's in mourning,

and I don't think he's in shock,

and last but not least, I don't think his
wife ever complained about chest pains.

Wait a minute, now. Let's
not get excited. This is serious.

What's the basis
of these allegations?

No previous heart damage showed
up when we did an autopsy on his wife,

which means that Yager
was lying in his teeth.

Which means that I am more anxious
than ever to find out why that lady d*ed.

You just have me very confused.

Did you not say she
d*ed of cardiac arrest?

Yes, of course, I did.

Well, then we have
the cause of death.

But there is more.

Oh, there's more.
Right. Yes, there's more.

Well, then you had better be at your most
brilliant, and find out what this more is.

But do it by tomorrow morning.

What's so special about tomorrow
morning? As if I didn't know.

I'm going to... You're
going to release the body.

Absolutely.

He's upset.

Oh, Dr. Quincy.

Bad day at Black Rock?

Next to the worst.
Yeah? What's the worst?

I'm never going to find out why
that lady d*ed before tomorrow.

Astin's going to snatch the
corpse away from me, just like that.

Quincy, could you
be a little less graphic?

You know, customers.

Did you ever have a sneaky suspicion
about something that wouldn't let go?

My ex-wife. I would open my
wallet, she'd stick to it like glue.

You liked that? Yeah.

Dr. Quincy. Yes?

My name is Tracy Boulder.

Do I know you?

No, you don't, and I'm
not trying to pick you up.

What a shame.

Yes.

I went by the morgue first,

but a very nice man told me you'd left
for the day and that I could find you here.

Well, here I am. Can
I buy you a drink?

Yes, thank you. Okay.

But not here.

Not here? I mean,
this is it, you know.

Oh, well, I didn't
mean that... I mean...

Could I talk to
you alone, please?

Sure, sure.

What am I? A Russian
spy or something?

No, you're an Italian noob.

Ah, show her a good time.
Take her to the morgue.

It's something I read in this morning's
newspaper. About Marie Yager?

What about her?

A heart att*ck in
a bar. Is it true?

How does that concern you?

Richard Yager, her husband,
was once my brother-in-law.

Bread and butter.

He was married
to my sister, once.

Well, before she
d*ed of a heart att*ck.

So?

Well, she was only


She never had any
trouble with her heart.

Unless you consider
Richard himself a problem,

he was running around
with some other woman.

You mean, when he
was married to your sister,

he had a girlfriend on the side.

Right. And that's what
I'm trying to tell you.

You saw that girlfriend
today, in the morgue.

Marie Yager.

I think he m*rder*d her the
same way he m*rder*d my sister.

Marie never d*ed of a heart
att*ck any more than my sister did!

Come on, Tracy.
Will you back off?

m*rder is a very
serious accusation.

It's also a very serious crime.

Do you have any proof of this?

Look, I'm not a lawyer. The only thing I
know is what I know about Richard Yager,

and he would do anything to get
what he wants, including m*rder.

Have you told anybody else
about this theory of yours?

Yes, for three years. Ever
since he k*lled my sister, but...

Nobody will listen to me.
I've tried, and I've tried.

Everybody thinks
I'm some kind of kook.

You think so, too. No, I don't.

Now, that's not true. I
don't think you're a kook.

I mean, I'm listening, aren't I?

Yeah, but you won't do anything
about it. Just like everybody else.

How do you know I won't do anything
about it? Because Mr. Richard Yager

is some kind of bigwig.

Big enough to be
above suspicion.

Well, he sure wasn't when he married
my sister. He was a big nothing, then.

She was just a kid, and she worked
to put him through business school.

Then he married
Marie, who had money.

Are you saying that he m*rder*d
your sister just to marry Marie?

Marie's money is more like it.

Why didn't he
simply divorce her?

Because divorces take time,

and Richard Yager was
a young man in a hurry.

Apparently, he still is.

Besides, there was
also an insurance policy.

So your sister d*ed
of a heart att*ck,

but she never had any previous
symptoms of a heart condition.

That's right. Sounds
familiar, doesn't it?

Just like Marie Yager.

Yes, it does. Yes, it does.

And I'll bet if you'd
investigate it, you'll find out

that right now, Richard Yager is running
around with future wife number three.

And I'll guarantee
you two things.

She'll be wealthier,
as Marie was,

and younger than
my sister, Donna.

We'll see, we'll see.

Will you?

I said, we'll see, didn't I?

Does "we'll see" mean... I mean, is
that an evasion or is that a promise?

It's a promise, it's not an
evasion. It's a promise. I promise.

Bread and butter.

Excuse me, please.
Morning, Quince.

Is he in? Yeah. Hey!

Do you want to take
a minute to cool off?

No.

Can't you learn to knock?

Oh, sure. What do you
want me to knock? The desk?

On the door. On the door.

You released her, didn't
you? You let Marie Yager go.

Now, listen, you found
the cause... Get her back!

What? Get her back!

Rescind your release order!

Now, that's impossible. The
body's on the way to the mortuary.

Services are
scheduled for tomorrow.

Well, get in touch with them. Tell
them to turn around and come back,

because you made a mistake.

I've made a
mistake? That's right.

Oh, brother! All right, let's
just be calm now. Just be calm.

I'll call...

It's good work. Let's
see, what did you find out?

That Marie Yager
was his second wife.

His first wife d*ed under
strikingly similar circumstances.

What circumstances?

Neither had a history of heart
trouble, yet they both went like that!

Quite a coincidence, isn't it?

Well, that's not an
uncommon coincidence.

Fifty-three percent of all deaths
here are due to cardiovascular disease.

In fact, what's more
common than a heart att*ck?

I'll tell you what's
more common,

husbands who want
to leave their wives.

Right. They leave them,
but they do not m*rder them.

Sometimes they do,
don't they? You know,

sometimes I wish you would read
Dr. Borodel, the medical legalist who says,

"We have no victim to avenge.

"No innocent or
guilty party to save.

"We hear testimony only
within the limits of science."

That is courtroom behavior!

In plain English, it means you
suspect every case that comes in here.

Well, it's better to be
suspicious than slipshod.

Slipshod? Yes!

You're accusing
me of inefficiency?

Oh, no, turn it around.
You're 110% efficient!

You're so anxious to close
cases and ship them out,

so you can keep
pace with the workload,

that you risk our
overlooking vital evidence.

Who knows how many
murderers are walking around free

because the books in this
department are shipshape?

You're calling me an
accessory to m*rder.

Inadvertently, we all are.

If we don't do our
jobs thoroughly, we are.

Name one instance
where we've done less!

Marie Yager.

You have no proof of
unusual termination of life!

Not yet.

I wish he'd learn to knock.

Look, just because a guy loses two
wives, doesn't make it a police matter.

Did I say it was
a police matter?

Well, if it's not, what are
you doing in a police station?

I said maybe it
was a police matter.

Quincy, we got enough
real crimes to solve in this city

without worrying
about the possible ones.

Maybe you'd have fewer real ones

if you paid more attention
to the possible ones.

Now, look, you're
hitting below the belt.

Now, you listen to me...

Yeah, what is it? Where? When?

How many? I'll be right there.

Monahan!

You want to hear
about real crimes?

There's some nut
with a sub-machine g*n

holding 14 hostages
in a pizza parlor.

How does that
exonerate Richard Yager?

I don't understand you. What
kind of an argument is that?

I don't know, I couldn't
think of anything else.

Quincy, what do
you want from me?

Everything you can find out about
Richard Yager, past and present.

All right, I'll see what I can do,
but I'm not making any promises.

Good.

We're closed. We open at 5:00.

Yeah, I know. You play a
terrific piano. Your composition?

With a slight assist from Bach.

Were you here the night that
woman d*ed? Marie Yager.

You a newspaper man or what?

No, no, I'm a medical examiner
with the County Coroner's Office.

Oh. Yeah, I was here,
right where I am now.

She was there.

I was playing Spanish
Eyes for the umpteenth time.

Her request.

Mrs. Yager's? That's the lady.

I'm gonna miss her. I may even
retire Spanish Eyes in her memory.

She come in here often?

Lately, every night.

Lately?

For the last month. Before that,
once in a while with her husband.

Good-looking dude.

She talked about
her husband a lot.

All the fun they had
down in the bars in Tijuana.

Tijuana bars just ain't my cup
of tea. Or should I say tequila?

Had he been coming
in here with her, lately?

Nope. Got the notion that's
why she was drinking so much.

'Cause he wasn't with her.

Well, did she ever say that he was out
with another woman or anything like that?

You sure you're a coroner?

I'm sure.

You ask questions
like a detective.

Coroner. Guaranteed.

She did die of a heart
att*ck, didn't she?

I mean, no sh*ts rang out,
no arrows flew through the air.

It's my job to make
sure it was a heart att*ck.

Okay.

That doesn't help you, right?

Not much.

Sorry.

No sorrier than I am. But
I sure did enjoy the music.

Quincy!

Ah, you're right. Today
is as bad as you expected.

It's worse. This is gonna help.

Anything I can do?

Nah.

Trying to get some
information and I can't.

About what? Richard Yager.

Who's he?

"Who's he?" Don't you
ever read the newspapers?

I read the sports section. You're the
only guy I know that reads the papers.

Is that right? Yeah.

Johnny. Yeah?

Who's Richard Yager?

You gotta be kidding me.
No, who's Richard Yager?

Richard Yager,
early to middle 305.

Started as a boy genius,
worked his way up from there.

His wife just dropped dead from
a heart att*ck while drunk in a bar.

He was a market analyst
for the Hopson Group,

financial consultant
to International Metals.

Recently was involved in putting
together a big plastics conglomerate.

He's a financial wizard
on his way to the top.

Where'd you get all that?

The Wall Street Journal.

Go back to your post.

I'll get you a
subscription to The Times,

Oh, chickee, the cops.

Danny, start pouring.

Mr. DuPont. Paying customer.

I got your message when
I got back to the office,

but I think they made a mistake.

They said meet you here
and the drinks are on you.

They are on me.

How come?

Well, I know it's the only
way I could get you down here.

To my host. You got it.

What did you find
out about Yager?

Well, he's got a
new girl. Already?

James J. Allen's
daughter, nonetheless.

Looks like Richard's a shoo-in to
be part of Daddy's corporate empire.

That's it?

No, I got one other thing,

but it comes from a strictly
unreliable source, so don't count on it.

Who's counting? What is it?

Well, it seems a couple of
weeks ago Yager was spotted

doing some kind of business
with that doctor friend of yours,

that you got his license
revoked. What was his name?

Not Jones? Yeah, that's him.

I thought he skipped across the
border to Tijuana before he was indicted.

Well, he did. That's where
Yager was seen with him. Tijuana.

Tijuana.

Hey, Quincy! What
about the drinks?

Hey, Johnny, give me the
same and put it on Quincy's bill.

Who is it?

Quincy.

Oh.

Dr. Quincy, what
a nice surprise.

Oh, I'm sorry to bother you,
but I have to ask you something.

Oh, it sounds
serious. Come on in.

Thank you. No, it's not
serious, but it could be important.

And besides, it gives me a
good excuse to see you again.

As if you needed one.

Are you still trying
not to pick me up?

Hmm. We'll see.

Is that "we'll see" an
evasion or a promise?

It's a promise. I promise.

Would you like some wine?

No, thanks. I never mix
the grape with the grain.

I was drinking
Scotch at Danny's.

Then Scotch it
is. I'll get the ice.

It's a nice place
you've got here.

Ah. Not so loud.

If the landlord hears you, he'll raise
the rent for the third time in six months.

You know, I never
asked you what do you do.

About what?

For a living. How do you
pay this exorbitant rent?

I'm in commercial design.

Bet you're good at it.

Oh, I try.

Is this your sister?

Yes, that's when
she was in college,

when she and
Richard first fell in love.

Unfortunately, the
romance blossomed.

Where was it taken?

In Tijuana.

That's what I wanna ask you.

Did they go there often?

Went just that once.

Oh, and one other time,

just a few weeks
before she was k*lled.

Why don't we forget
about the Scotch?

Right now I've a real
yen for some tequila.

Wouldn't you know,
I'm fresh out of it.

Oh, I know a place that
serves the real thing.

Where? Tijuana.

You sure this is
a doctor's office?

I told you it wasn't a
conventional doctor's office.

Yeah, you told me. I guess
you have to see it to believe it.

There's a table
over there. Let's go.

Oh!

No, no. No dinner, please.

Tequila? Yeah.

Dos tequila,

Do you see him yet?

Not yet.

I don't understand, Quincy.

If you're the one who stopped
him from practicing in the States,

is he going to want to see you?

I don't know.

I know for the right amount of money,
he'll work both sides of the street

and cheat his mother. Ah-ha.

There he is.

That's a quack, huh?

Illegal practitioner.

I hate to say this, but he looks
more like a doctor than you do.

Thanks a lot.

Jones!

Quincy!

What a pleasant surprise!

Hello. Yes.

Doubly so, I'd say, with this
charming, lovely lady here.

Ms. Boulder, Dr. Jones.

Hello. My dear.

Why don't you sit
down, join the party?

Yes, dynamite would not
separate me from this lovely lady.

And I see you so
infrequently, Quincy.

Eight years now.
Has it been that long?

Eight years and three
months, to be precise.

And I thought he
wouldn't remember me.

Not only do I remember you,
but I remember you very fondly.

Why's that?

My dear, would you
believe me if I told you

that every night
before I go beddy-bye,

I say a little prayer for
the good Dr. Quincy?

I don't know about her, but it
would surprise the heck out of me.

Isn't Quincy responsible
for your being here?

Indeed.

Yes, he is totally and
unequivocally responsible

for the United States
officials frowning on my

slightly unorthodox medical
practices, I should say.

Yes, I was Eliza
crossing the ice,

when I barely crossed
the Mexican border

in the nick of time,

with the US officials
snapping at my coattails.

Then why the little
prayers for Quincy?

Well, my dear, it's very difficult
for anyone to be irreligious

when one is literally shoved
into a veritable gold mine.

Yes, my Beverly Hills
practice was very lucrative,

but nothing, nothing
compared to the shekels,

perhaps I should say
pesos, that I amass here.

And I have Dr. Quincy
to thank for it all.

Now you owe me one, right?

Then, this is not purely social?

Strictly business.

Hmm. That's what
I was afraid of.

So, what will it be?

Laetrile? Cocaine?

Something stronger, perhaps?

You know Richard Yager.

Ah, that was not a question.

You're telling me that
I know Richard Yager.

Yeah.

Well, is it something personal?

Perhaps this young lady here?

Richard Yager was my brother-in-law.
He was married to my sister.

Marie? Charming lady.

No, no, no, no. My
sister was his first wife.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

I seem to recall. She d*ed,
what, three, four years ago?

Heart att*ck.

Supposedly.

Now Marie is dead.

I anticipated that.
Cancer, wasn't it?

What makes you
think she had cancer?

Oh, because I know
what I sold to Mr. Yager.

What did you sell to Mr. Yager?

Interested?

Nice to see you haven't changed.

Oh, do, do, do
get the right color.

I don't think Dr. Astin is going to
like this on the expense account.

Oh, come on.

All right, there. That's it now.

Doxorubicin.

Doxorubicin. That's it.

That's how he
did it. Doxorubicin!

It's a cardiac toxin.

It's undetectable unless
you know it's there.

An overdose will give you the
same symptoms as a heart att*ck.

How much of it
did you sell to him?



Oh, my... Let's get out of here.

Nice meeting you, Doctor.

For the waitress.

Person to person.
Mr. Richard Yager.


will you sign it, please?

You sure of these
facts, too, huh?

Jones said he sold it to Yager.

Jones said, Jones said. How do you
take the word of an outlawed doctor?

Because it adds up perfectly.
Marie's hair was falling out.

Cancer dr*gs like
doxorubicin do that!

Besides, why would Jones lie?

Why wouldn't Jones lie?

Oh, that's a cop-out, and you know
it. Now, are you going to sign this

so we can bring the body
back for another autopsy,

or are you going to stall until
we're forced to dig it up again?

Even if you had proof
that Yager bought this drug,

on an embalmed body, it would be
almost impossible to detect doxorubicin.

Now, if you don't
mind, I have work to do.

You can't win them all.

Feels good.

You know, I've
always dreamed that

someday I'd have my own yacht.

Sail around the world.

And I will.

That goes without
saying, darling.

But won't this old boat of Daddy's
do until you can get one of your own?

I guess it'll have to.

Mr. Yager!

What's he doing here?

Who?

Who is he?

That sawbones.

Mr. Yager, you're a
difficult man to find.

I went to your office, then your
home. They said you might be here.

Ms. Allen, this is Dr. Quincy.

How do you do?
How do you do. Allen?

They said the Allen
yacht. Is this yours?

Belongs to my father.

Kind of cute.

I'm know you're busy. Could I talk
to you alone for a couple of minutes?

This is an extremely
awkward time.

We're sailing right away.

This can't wait.

Will you excuse us, Cindy?

Right this way, Doctor.

Now what's so important
that it can't wait?

This.

What is it?

I was on my way to the mortuary.

This is an official document.

It permits me the right to reclaim
your wife's body for further tests.

Now, if you don't want to sign it,
I can gladly get my boss to do it.

No. Let's discuss this.

I don't have the time.

Oh, what are you doing?

Where you going? For a swim?

I hope you have a good
reason for this request.

I mean, a damn good reason.

You bet I do.

Well, what is it?

I think I have a right to know.

Doxorubicin.

Is that supposed to
mean something to me?

It's a drug that's used in
the treatment of cancer.

A lethal overdose causes the
same symptoms as a heart att*ck.

In most cases, you
can't tell the difference.

That's what I think
your wife d*ed of.

An overdose of doxorubicin.

Not a cardiac arrest.

So that's what you
think you'll find?

Traces of what? Doxo...

Rubicin, yes. In my wife's body?

That's right.

I don't think you will, Doctor.

You're not going to be
able to stop me this time.

I wouldn't be too
sure about that.

We're ready, Mr. Yager.

Who's he?

The mortician.

Dr. Quincy!

Ashes to ashes.

What are you doing here?

Waiting to find out
what happened.

I was too late.

He dumped his wife's
ashes into the sea.

Just like that?

Just like that.

You know, that's exactly what he
wanted to do to my sister Donna.

Well, didn't he?

Yeah, he cremated her.

But didn't he scatter her ashes?

No, my family stopped him.

Where are they now? The ashes?

In the cemetery.

Are you sure, Tracy?

Of course I'm sure. I put flowers
on my sister's grave every month.

Oh, honey, I could kiss you.

As a matter of
fact, I think I will.

Wait a minute, I don't
think you heard me.

He had Donna cremated, too.

I heard you, I heard you!

Then what good are
ashes? What can they prove?

That Richard
Yager is a m*rder*r!

Let's get back to
what we were doing.

I don't care what
you want to do.

No! Ashes... I mean, what do you
mean you want to autopsy ashes?

Why are you yelling? What?

It's just that your theories
just have me exhausted.

It's been done before. Will
you stop following me around!

Listen, it's only been
done in rare cases.

Oh, a man murders two wives,
that's a common occurrence, huh?

Look, I'm going to
tell you something.

With all your poking around.

With your trips to Mexico. Now,
you think I didn't know that, huh?

I didn't get the bill for that,
yet, did I? Now, listen, Quincy.

With all of that,

you still have not proved that
Richard Yager m*rder*d two wives.

You just suspect it, don't you?

If I could prove it,
would I be begging

for the authorization
to dig up a few ashes?

Yes! You know why?

Because you just hate
to admit that you're wrong.

All right, all right, you
let me autopsy the ashes.

Now, if it's clean, and I'm wrong,
I'll be the first one to admit it.

Absolutely not. You know
what? If Yager heard about this,

he would come down on this
department with absolute fury.

And I'm going to tell you something,
that man has his rights, too.

But Yager's not going
to find out anything!

Listen, since he threw his wife's ashes
overboard, he thinks he's soot-free.

All right. Now, I'm
going to tell you

something, and you
get this once and for all,

as far as this
case is concerned,

as far as Richard Yager is
concerned, he officially is soot-free.

Oh!

You make a mockery of justice. You
make a laughingstock of the criminal code!

Do I? Don't you
talk to me like that.

What are you doing
here, Monahan?

Waiting for you two
fellows to stop arguing.

Well, he's the
one who started it.

Well, anyway, you know this guy
Yager you've been hocking me about?

You, too? Fine, come
on in, the water's just fine.

Unreasonable. He's unreasonable!

Anyway, we kept an eye on him.

We spotted him buying a
couple of plane tickets to...

Don't tell me where.

Rio de Janiero.

How'd you know?

They can't extradite
you from Brazil.

Brazil? That's right. Now,
will you sign this authorization?

You see? You see how stubborn
you are? I just want you to see that...

Just sign it, please, come on.

Thank you. My pen,
please. Thank you.

You know, he is stubborn.

Listen, mind your own business.
Please don't criticize my department.

Been working for 40 years,
digging graves here and in Iowa.

It's the first time I
ever dug for ashes.

First time for everything. Look
at this, it's coffee break time.

And speaking of time.

You shipping these ashes
somewhere? You know, I always said,

when I die, I want to be
buried in a cornfield in Iowa.

Well, I would like to get them
analyzed. That's if I ever get them.

Analyzed?

As soon as possible.

It'd be a stupid question
if I asked you why, right?

Not if you kept digging.

You see, I want to see if the lady
whose ashes you're digging up there

d*ed a natural death, or
whether she was m*rder*d.

You mean to tell me, you can
tell how she d*ed from the ashes?

Yeah.

I always said you coroners
had a sense of humor.

I mean, you ask
a stupid question.

Hey! I think you hit something.

Really?

There she is.

Oh, thank you.

Now he works fast. Bye.

Oh, Sam, enough with
the mortar and pestle, huh?

We'd finish
quicker if you'd help.

No, it's a one-man job.
I'd only be in the way.

Don't know what you expect
to find out from these tests.

I expect to find out whether
Yager poisoned his first wife, too.

If he did it with doxorubicin the first
time, too, it's not going to show up

on the spectrophotometer.

I know that. I'm not
looking for doxorubicin.

Maybe with his first wife, he
used another kind of poison,

one that contained heavy
metals like arsenic or zinc.



Five, if it'll be quicker.

Five it is.

Can you add some more
ethanol in there? About...

I know how much.

Well? Are you going to ask me
how long it'll take to freeze-dry it?

I know how long it'll
take you. Too long.

Sam, can you make
that thing go fast?

An atomic absorption
spectrophotometer

is not a horse that goes faster
and slower. It goes at its own pace.

Now you're a Zen philosopher.
I know all about its own pace.

I also know that a m*rder*r will
be halfway to Brazil before this thing

coughs up an answer.

It's ready to cough now. What
element should we test for first?

Try arsenic. That seems
to be the m*rder*r's favorite.

Ah, way below normal.

Change the lantern
for zinc, will you?

Not enough to hurt a fly.

Go for lead.

Wow, Sam, take a look at this.

More than 60 milligrams
per gram of ash.

Enough to k*ll a small army.

What I don't understand is
why that poor lady's doctor

couldn't have spotted
all that poison in her.

It should've been obvious. Do
you know who her doctor was?

No, but I know somebody
who does. Tracy.

Sam, I owe you
a big one. Honest.

Yes, I admit I was surprised
when Donna had her heart att*ck.

Her alleged heart
att*ck, Doctor.

Heart att*ck.

It was a heart att*ck,
right here in this office.

And with a doctor in attendance,
there was no need for an autopsy, right?

That's right.

Then how do you explain all the
lead that was found in her system?

I can't explain it, because Donna
never had any of it in her body.

The spectrophotometers
show that she had a lethal dose.

That's a machine.

I'm a doctor.

I knew Donna like I know
the back of this hand.

Now, if you found all
that lead in the ashes,

you'll have to explain it.

I can't, unless she slowly
was being poisoned.

By her everloving
husband Richard.

Yes, yes, I know, Tracy.

Tracy never did believe that
Donna d*ed of natural causes.

And I never will.

Any more than I'll ever believe
you can do an autopsy on ashes.

We can, and we did!

We found heavy enough
quantities of lead to cause

what looked like a heart att*ck!

Are you trying to tell me I don't know
a real heart att*ck when I see one?

Especially with one of my own patients
I'd been seeing regularly for six months?

Regularly?

Tracy,

you said your sister didn't
have a history of heart trouble.

This is the first
I've heard of it.

But she wasn't seeing me about her
heart. I was treating her for anemia.

Anemia?

Yes, officially Donna's death
was caused by heart failure.

Secondary to primary anemia.

That's it!

That's what?

You didn't have a cause
for the anemia, did you?

The primary anemia is only a
symptom due to the lead poisoning.

Now you're telling me I
can't even diagnose anemia.

I resent this.

One of the effects on the
system from lead is anemia.

Don't you see what
was happening?

Yager was slowly
poisoning Donna by degrees.

Now, you did what any good doctor
would do, you diagnosed it as anemia.

Well, you were treating her for it.
She wasn't improving, was she?

Well, no.

No, and she wasn't
going to improve.

Because her husband was
still feeding her the poison.

A poison that no doctor
in the world would suspect,

unless he was looking
for it specifically.

Well, I'll agree with you there.

Then, one day,

there was so much lead in Donna Yager's
body that it caused her heart to fail.

Right before your eyes.

Well, what do you know?

I know we have to stop a
plane before it takes off for Brazil.

Right.

- Thank you, Doctor.
- Thank you.

Take care of the
luggage, George. Yes, sir.

Let's you and I catch a quick drink
in the lounge before take-off, huh?

Okay, we'll toast to
the bride and groom.

It's a secret!

Well, I must admit it's terribly
romantic to elope like this,

but I'm wondering how
Daddy is going to take it.

He was planning on
a really big wedding.

Oh, Daddy will get over it.

After all, Marie just d*ed.

It wouldn't look right if I
got married too publicly.

Too soon afterwards.

Well, it can't be soon enough
for me, even if it is in Brazil.

And by the way, why Brazil?

Well, I had to get down there
anyway, on business matters,

and I thought, why
not take Cindy with me

and get married down there?

You know, I hope you never stop
asking yourself questions like that.

How long will it take?

Will what take?

The business matter.

Oh, it's hard to tell.

Couple of days? A
week? Two weeks?

Well, you may love it down there so
much you may never want to come back.

Mr. Yager, Ms. Allen.

Quincy.

I thought I got rid of you
when I dumped those ashes.

So did I.

Until I found that your first
wife's ashes were accessible.

What could you possibly
find out from her ashes?

That you m*rder*d her.

You don't have to say anything,
Mr. Yager, if you don't want to.

Lieutenant Monahan. Homicide.

You'll have to
come with us. Now.

Don't worry, darling. I'll
be out of this right away,

and we can catch
the next flight down.

You go home and
wait for my call.

Let's go.

What, no handcuffs or leg irons?

Let's go. Come on.

It's going to be all right.

He never told me he
had a first wife, too.

Be thankful you
weren't number three.

I happen to think
it saved your life.

And the DA guaranteed me that
Yager would be indicted and convicted.

Thank you, Quincy.

Let's drink to that. Okay.

Oh, I never thought this
case would be solved.

Neither did I. Especially when I
saw him dump those ashes overboard.

I wanted to jump
overboard myself.

Oh, Quincy, don't
you look fantastic.

We went to the ballet, we
saw Swan Lake, and no crass.

There we go.

Tracy, you're a great
influence on him.

He hasn't dressed that
well since he celebrated

the capture of the
Boston Strangler.

Very funny. I was doing very
well before you came along.

Quincy! Here are those color
blowups you wanted on the Stein case.

You said you were in a hurry.

Oh, my, they're terrific.

Aren't they great?

Oh, the clarity of
these pictures is great.

Look here.

Hey, you can see every
laceration in the ripped liver.

The color rendition. I've
never seen truer color.

Look, the green ooze from
bacterial decomposition.

This is perfect! Oh, Quincy.

What? Take a look.
I'm not kidding. See?