04x17 - Karma

[bunniefuu]

Finch: We are being watched. The government has a secret system-- a machine that spies on you every hour of every day. I designed the machine to detect acts of terror, but it sees everything... Violent crimes involving ordinary people. The government considers these people irrelevant. We don't. Hunted by the authorities, we work in secret. You will never find us. But victim or perpetrator, if your number's up, we'll find you.

The engineers that Corwin had reassembled the machine.

After we shipped it off, there have been accidents, disappearances.

I think the government may be k*lling them.

Alicia isn't going to have me bumped off.

I knew you would come, my friends.

TV reporter: The victims of the ferry bombing include Nathan Ingram, founder and CEO of IFT Inc., one of the world's...

Did you know?

[indistinct chatter]

[phone ringing]

Hello?

Alicia Corwin... [voice distorted] ...you are a m*rder*r and a traitor.

Who is this?

The actions of you and your associates have not gone unnoticed.

Because of you, Nathan Ingram is dead.

Consider this a warning.

[dial tone]

[dialing numbers]

[phone ringing]

Code 703412.

Office of Special Counsel, please.

receptionist: I'm sorry, Special Counsel is unavailable.

No, you get him on the phone right now!

I have just been threatened. Someone knows.

receptionist: We'll look into it.

[beep]

[beeps]

Finch: He was my best friend, and... in an instant, he was simply... gone.

I've struggled with my injury every day since then.

I fear I may never regain the use of my arm.

I'm sorry, Dr. Edwards, this was probably a bad idea.

It's okay, Harold, you don't have to say anything more than you're comfortable with.

But... you know the way you talk about your accident, the loss of your friend, the pain, it seems as though you've carried this grief for some time.

Everyone grieves in different ways.

Fusco's voice: Hey, glasses, tell him about all your nut ball friends.

Maybe he can give you guys a group therapy discount.

I think by now, you count as one of Harold's nut ball friends, Lionel.

With you people, there's no other kind.

Shane Edwards.

Guy's a shrink for victims of violent crimes.

Big time psychiatrist once upon a time.

Reese: Then he lost his wife.

Eight years ago, Lucy Edwards.

She was m*rder*d in their apartment by a psycho delivery guy.

Shane founded his non-profit soon after.

You live alone?

No. Well, yes, technically.

I have a dog.

Is the dog from your wife?

No, we never--

My fiancee didn't have any pets. How do you know--

That there was someone else in your life?

Just a hunch.

We broke it off, and... that's really all I have to say about that.

I understand, but I want you to know I've been in that seat.

I'm no stranger to what you're feeling.

Why don't we call it, talk more next time.

Sound good?

Is that your wife?

Yeah. Yeah, that's Lucy.

Like I said, I've been there before.

She d*ed eight years ago.

Oh, I'm so terribly sorry, Dr. Edwards.

You know, even when your world stops, the world around you keeps moving forward, and you will too.

Take care, Harold.

Thanks.

I still have dreams sometimes where I'm walking... and then I wake up.

How does that make you feel?

Trapped, helpless. Every morning, that first moment when I wake up and I realize I can't feel my legs, I'm forced to relive it.

Seeing Barton behind the wheel, high off his ass, and then he hits me.

His lawyers must have gotten him out of rehab early, because I saw a picture of him partying the other day.

He's posting all these stupid status updates, promoting his new club.

It's not fair that he does this to me, and he gets to go out and live his life.

Can I punch this guy in the face?

Get in line.

You have every reason to be angry, Angela, but you have to let it go. You can't change the past.

And people like that, they don't walk free forever.

Karma has a way of finding them.

Edwards' job involved dredging up a lot of details about violent crimes.

Maybe he dug up something he wasn't supposed to.

You got this one, Lionel.

I got a therapy session of my own to get to.

Yeah, give Red my regards.

There seems to be a little bit of darkness about you today, Detective.

I met a guy this morning who lost someone.

Changed his life.

Just brings up bad memories.

And how do you handle loss?

You don't want to go there.

You're retreating inward again, John.

What was that you said about new habits?

Developing new habits isn't as easy as it sounds.

How was your session with Dr. Campbell?

Doctor/patient confidentiality, Finch.

Fair enough.

Any luck with Edward's apartment?

I must say, I'm getting rather good... at this breaking and entering business.

Although I don't quite understand the purpose of the carnitas.

Ah, it's just an old spy trick for neutralizing security systems.

Finch: Security system?

Knock knock.

Oh, hey, Becca.

We got some of your mail again.

Someone should probably say something to the mailman.

He gets confused 'cause we look so much alike.

[laughs]

Good point.

Where's Hector today?

He only does Tuesdays and Thursdays.

[laughs]

[dog barking]

[dog growling]

[dog growling]

Hector.

It's very funny, Mr. Reese.

My coworkers and I are gonna go check out that new bar up the street, and I-- we were wondering if maybe you'd like to come along.

Thanks, but I-I got a prior commitment.

Oh, yeah, of course, sure. No problem.

Figured I'd just ask.

Say hi to Hector for me.

Will do.

Reese: All right, Finch, Edwards is headed for the gym.

Find anything in his apartment?

Edwards' wife's belongings are everywhere.

Reese: But she d*ed eight years ago.

Perhaps he hasn't taken his own advice about moving on.

Finch, I think we may have a problem.

Edwards just planted a g*n in someone's gym locker.

And now he's leaving the gym without working out.

Reese: Okay, he just went into a bank.

Edwards is following a very deliberate schedule, setting up pieces.

You think he's going to rob the bank?

He's making his move, Finch.

Or not.

Something else is going on.

He's using a code to go in through the service entrance.

Might be messing with the electrical system, security cams.

[high pitched tone]

Finch: What's he doing now?

He's making a call from a burner phone.

man: Clyde Barton.

Hi, is this the account holder at After Hours Management?

man: Yeah.

This is Brian Humphries at Fisher Savings & Loan.

It appears the government's made an inquiry into your account and decided to freeze it.

man: Are you kidding me?

My accountant said everything was in order!

Sir, there's no need to raise your voice.

This is a pretty standard procedure.

If you'll just come down to our branch on Montague, we can get all this straightened out.

man: You bet your ass we will. I'll be right there!

Finch, you got a line on After Hours Management?

When it comes to breaking, entering, and hacking, I can only do two at a time.

Finch, that guy Edwards was talking to--

Clyde Barton? That club owner who put Edwards' patient in a wheelchair.

How'd you know?

Edwards seems to have done extensive research on Clyde Barton, and he's been researching this bank for weeks.

[phone ringing]

Hello? Fisher Savings.

Edwards: Hi, is this Brian Humphries?

Brian: - Yeah.

Listen carefully.

My associate is about to rob your bank.

Now, if you cooperate fully without alerting the authorities, no one will get hurt, including you.

My friend's a big guy wearing sweats.

When he comes in, he'll look for you.

Give him your keys and your keycard.

Don't do anything stupid.

Okay, Finch, this makes no sense.

I'm going in.

I need to see Brian Humphries now.

Edwards: Do you see my friend?

Yeah.

Please remain calm. I'll get you what you need.

What are you talking about?

We don't want any trouble.

[beep]

[alarm blaring]

[people screaming]

Help!

[alarm blaring]

[people screaming]

Help! This guy's trying to rob us!

Stop right there!

What? I'm not trying to--

[grunts]

man: Get out of here!

This guy's got a g*n!

Get your face on the ground!

Reese: You're not gonna believe this, Finch.

Edwards just framed this guy for armed robbery.

That's not all.

It doesn't appear that this is the first time Edwards has framed someone like this.

I believe our new number may be something of a vigilante.

[alarm blaring]

Reese: Then who's his next target?

Reese: So Edwards is a vigilante, huh?

He's put a total of seven people in prison, all of them aggressors who had harmed his patients.

How far back do these frames go, Finch?

Back to when he started his victim advocacy non-profit in honor of his wife, Lucy.

Her k*ller, Wyatt Morris, a delivery man who got a little bit too friendly with Lucy while making deliveries, and made her uncomfortable.

She was concerned that he might be unstable, so they filed a complaint with his employer.

The day before the m*rder, Morris attempted a delivery at the house, but Lucy didn't answer the door.

He returned the following day.

She came to the door and signed for the package.

That evening, according to Edwards' testimony, he saw Morris leaving as he arrived home from work.

Moments later, he discovered his wife, bludgeoned to death.

Where is Morris now?

In prison, serving 15 years for manslaughter.

Manslaughter? Why not m*rder?

Because all of the evidence was circumstantial.

There was no witness to the actual m*rder.

Otherwise, he'd be serving a life sentence.

Edwards is punishing people who deserve it, and making sure no innocent people get hurt in the process.

You should hire him, Finch, take the week off.

Need I remind you, Mr. Reese, that his number has come up, which means that his next target may escalate beyond any simple crime.

Or one of his previous targets is coming back for revenge.

How you doing, boy?

It appears Edwards is arriving home now.

Finch: He's putting tape on his tuxedo.

Either he doesn't trust Hugo Boss lapels to stay in place, or he's planning to start his next frame at tonight's gala.

Edwards is making a presentation tonight about his non-profit.

It appears to be an elite crowd.

Admission will require a rather large donation from our already depleted funds.

Save your money, Professor.

Might have an easier way to get in.

Thanks for getting me in, doc.

You're the one doing me a favor.

The NYPD has a table at this gala every year.

I'm always looking for people willing to come represent the precinct.

Thank you.

I think the tuxes keep them away.

[laughs]

It's good to see your empathetic side, John.

It shows real progress.

I'm glad I could join you.

Um, you look... stunning, by the way.

And it's good to see this other side of you too.

I feel like a waiter in this thing.

You know, I don't think I've worn a cummerbund since senior prom.

You're welcome, Detective. Where is Edwards now?

Reese: Don't worry, Finch, we got eyes on him.

Hi, everyone. Thank you all for coming.

I hope you're all at least getting a drink out of your tax write-offs tonight.

[laughter]

For those of you who don't know who I am, my name's Shane Edwards.

And this is my wife, Lucy.

Lucy was a photographer.

We met in a garden-- quiet little spot with a fountain-- when I absentmindedly traipsed through her perfectly timed sh*t, ruining hours of prep work, but instead of getting mad, she just started laughing.

Said there was no use getting upset now.

She'd just have to make do with an avant-garde, golden hour photo of a blurry foot.

[laughter]

Finch: Mr. Reese, we may have some trouble.

Someone's sneaking in through the service entrance.

Oh, my, it's Morris, the man convicted of k*lling Edwards' wife.

Reese: I thought he was in prison.

Released yesterday on parole.

The system wasn't updated due to an administrative delay.

But what the hell is he doing here?

Edwards: And a couple of years later, I proposed to her, right there in the garden, just after we'd carved our initials on a bench nearby.

After her passing...

I couldn't bring myself to visit that place anymore.

I couldn't even think about it until I went into therapy.

And it was therapy that made me whole again.

Moving on is not about forgetting or ignoring...

Morris is heading straight for Edwards.

Excuse me for a moment.

So, doc, I keep having this dream.

Hmm.

And that's why victim advocacy is so important, no matter what form that advocacy takes.

So I'm here tonight to ask you to help me continue in my practice. Thank you very much.

[applause]

Thanks for coming.

Been a while, doc.

You? What the hell are you doing here?

[crowd murmurs]

For seven years--

What are they saying, Finch?

Too much commotion.

Seven years of my life.

Mr. Reese, what's happening?

I think Morris just threatened Edwards.

[crowd murmuring]

Seven years!

Edwards is on the move, Finch.

[car alarm chirps]

[distorted car alarm chirps]

Something's wrong, Finch. The battery in Edwards' car has been drained. It's wired to blow!

Get down!

[all chattering]

All right, doc, why does Morris want you dead?

[phone buzzing]

Hello?

[phone ringing]

[static]

It's you, isn't it?

I suppose you're trying to tell me not to do this.

But I haven't given you a voice... so you have nothing to say.

Edwards: Any news on Morris?

Our guys are still looking for him.

Have you had any contact with Morris since the trial?

No.

I heard he was getting out of prison soon.

I never imagined he'd come after me.

You think he tried to k*ll you 'cause your testimony put him away?

k*lling my wife is what put him away.

I'm sorry, I'm a little on edge.

Last time I was in a room like this was the night she d*ed.

Worst night of my life.

It was snowing... that kind of relentless snow where you forget there was ever a world without it.

I remember calling my wife on the way home.

She didn't answer.

She was always bad about answering the phone.

I saw this delivery truck double parked outside our building.

Just as I was going in, the engine revved and the truck took off.

When I got up to our floor, the door was hanging open... and I ran inside, and... saw this package lying on the floor, this small, brown package wrapped in tape, lying in a-- in a pool--

When they found Morris, he denied he had anything to do with Lucy's death.

You need anything else from me?

I got an appointment starting in about four hours, like to get a bit of shut-eye.

Morris is still out there somewhere.

This guy's taken years of my life.

He's not getting any more of my time.

We'll find him.

Reese: Why would Morris, a guy who was just paroled, put a b*mb in Edwards' car and risk everything by confronting him in front of a crowd?

Criminals do stupid, incriminating stuff all the time. You don't put a b*mb in a guy's car because you're mentally stable.

Look, before delivering packages, Morris worked construction.

Demolitions.

Fusco: Guy knows how to build a b*mb.

Finch: Perhaps I can add some pertinent information.

I've just spotted new activity on an old email account that Morris had before he went to prison.

A cryptic exchange with an anonymized account, it says, "Roscoe has agreed to meet in the can.

11:00 AM tomorrow, Kent Avenue and North Ninth Street."

So Morris is about to meet with a man named Roscoe?

"Roscoe" is an old nickname for a handgun.

Morris is trying to acquire a w*apon.

I'll head to the address.

I'd like to have a word with him.

Fusco: Hey, glasses, I just heard back from the b*mb squad.

Finch: What have you got, Detective?

Real amateur hour. Another inch to the left and the igniter would have been too far from the gas t*nk to set it off.

Guy like Morris with experience in expl*sives should have known better.

Interesting. Thank you, Detective.

Finch: Any luck finding Roscoe?

Well, the g*n was already here.

No sign of Morris yet. And "In the can" meant in the trash outside a public restroom.

Hmm. Remind me to never illegally purchase a firearm.

While you're waiting, here's something rather odd.

Do you remember when Edwards told you about seeing Morris's truck the night his wife d*ed?

Yeah.

Well, that story he told you matches the story he told in court and the story he told the cops when they interviewed him.

Of course he would remember every detail.

His wife was m*rder*d.

It's not just the details, Mr. Reese, verbatim.

"That kind of relentless snow that makes you forget there was ever a world without it."

It's as if Edwards memorized that speech, but why would he do that?

So, I've been going through the cell company's GPS records for Edwards' phone.

He wasn't coming home when his wife was k*lled.

He didn't arrive until several hours later, which means he couldn't have seen his wife's k*ller leaving the scene. He lied.

He didn't just lie, Finch.

Edwards is the one who bought the g*n.

He bought a g*n under Morris's name?

Mr. Reese, it's another frame job.

Seven years ago, Edwards perjured himself to make sure that the man he believed had k*lled his wife would go away to prison.

And now Morris is out early, and only seven years for his wife's m*rder.

I'd be angry too.

So now, Edwards is planning to put him away... for good.

Reese: Edwards is heading back home now.

He's been pretty careful about not touching that g*n.

It's possible he means to k*ll Morris with that g*n and make it look like self defense.

Get this, right after Morris was released, he got a text message from his brother saying your guy would be at the gala.

Edwards must have spoofed the text to make sure that Morris would show up.

Then he blew up his own car to make it look like Morris tried to k*ll him.

Finch: Whatever Edwards' plan is, it could end in someone's death, including his own.

We have to stop him.

Stop him? We should give him a medal.

This bastard k*lled his wife and he's walking the streets free.

Edwards lied in his testimony.

Have you considered that Morris might be innocent?

The man was obsessed. He didn't have a solid alibi, no other suspect to speak of.

Precisely. All the evidence against him was purely circumstantial.

Morris has always maintained his innocence.

It could be that he's telling the truth, and we may never know what really happened.

Guys, we don't even know what's happening now.

Edwards just popped open a round and poured out the gunpowder.

And I'm betting things won't go too well for Morris when Edwards plants g*nsh*t residue on him.

If Edwards has figured out how to put this guy away, he should go for it.

One less k*ller walking the streets.

Reese: Oh, he's figured it out.

The tape on his lapels picked up Morris's fingerprints.

Finch: So now Edwards is holding a g*n with Morris's prints.

It seems fairly obvious he intends to use it on someone.

We cannot sanction m*rder.

Reese: We don't know if it's m*rder.

None of Edwards' frames have ended in death before.

Mr. Reese, we wouldn't be focused on him if something bad wasn't about to happen.

I'm saying he doesn't look like a k*ller to me.

He looks like a man who's lost.

[doorbell ringing]

both: Hey.

Sorry, I'm a little early.

No problem. Uh--

[dog barking]

Sounds like Hector's looking forward to spending time with you. I'll go get him.

Got someone here for ya.

Here she is. Here she is.

Hey, hi.

Yeah.

You sure you don't mind?

Oh, I'm happy to watch him as long as you need me to.

Thanks. Something came up I gotta take care of tonight, so--

Everything okay?

Yeah. I think it will be, yeah.

Thanks again for watching him.

Of course.

[door opening]

Bye.

[door closing]

Reese: Okay, Finch, Edwards is clearing out.

Whatever his plan is, it's gonna happen soon.

Fusco: Hey, I think I got a lead on our k*ller.

When Morris was in prison, his brother Sid never missed a visit. If Morris isn't at his brother's place, he knows where he's hiding.

Reese: Edwards might be thinking the same thing.

Looks like he's heading for the brother's apartment.

Okay, Finch, Edwards just broke in.

Mr. Reese? What's he doing?

Making it look like Morris is following him.

Where's Edwards?

[clatter]

Here.

Edwards has been planning this for years.

He can't move on. He needs closure.

Vengeance will not bring closure.

You should know that by now.

It didn't for Carter, it didn't for Shaw, and it won't bring Edwards any peace if he's targeted the wrong man.

Finch, the law doesn't always work.

Edwards is correcting an injustice.

If we deny him this, it will destroy him.

Don't make the mistake of assuming that you're the only person that's been down this path, Mr. Reese.

So tell me, Finch, where did that path take you?

man: Gotta find the red queen. Gotta find the red queen.

Gotta pay to play, pay to play, folks.

Who wants to step up, take a chance?

Edwards is gone.

Did he get away, or did you--

He's been doing frame jobs for a while.

He's good at covering his tracks.

He's left his phone at home, so there's no way for us to track him.

We have to find him before it's too late.

Finch: I haven't been able to find Edwards, Mr. Reese, but I've located Morris's cell phone signal.

It's an older model that doesn't have GPS.

Wait, this could be something.

[phone ringing]

Uh... Fusco.

Detective, have you located Morris's brother?

It appears that he just sent Morris a text message.

Although I'll wager it's Edwards spoofing a text to lure him out.

Yeah, I'd say that's a safe bet.

Sid broke his cell phone while we were having a little chat.

How exactly did--

Does he know where Morris is?

No, but it didn't stop the lowlife from taking a swing at me.

It says to meet at the Conservatory at the New York Botanical Gardens.

That's across town.

I'm close.

Could be dangerous, Finch.

Which is why you should've stopped Edwards while you had the chance.

Hello?

Sid?

You here?

I've been waiting seven years for this.

I have received direct threats on my personal cell phone.

Someone is coming after us.

You tell your boss to call me back immediately.

[car doors lock]

[distorted voice] Hello, Alicia.

I'm sorry it's come to this.

I'm aware of your relentless pursuit and subsequent elimination of the engineers involved in Northern Lights.

Did you really think that while you were watching others,

[distorted] no one would be watching you?

I'd be careful if I were you.

An improvised expl*sive device is attached to the bottom of your car.

Any sudden movement could set it off.

[pay phone ringing]

As a member of the black ops intelligence community, I'm sure you're familiar with the damage such a device can do.

[panting]

You have to understand, Nathan, he was a dear friend.

[pay phone ringing]

I didn't know anything about his m*rder.

[pay phone ringing]

Do you even believe yourself?

You work in intelligence? How can you not know?

No. I--

The second it happened, I knew it, but I didn't know they were gonna do it.

I had no idea.

[pay phone ringing]

You're a trained liar.

How will I ever know if you're telling the truth?

You won't.

But I am.

Everything we did was to make the world a safer place, but we strayed from the path. I admit it.

I have so many regrets, but it's grown so big, and we're so... so small.

I don't know who you are or how you know all this, but maybe you're right.

Maybe Nathan's death, it is my fault.

I saw the signs. I ignored them.

Maybe I deserve this.

[pay phone ringing]

[car door opening]

[panting]

[pay phone ringing]

[ringing stops]

Dump that on your hands.

Gunpowder?

Do it.

Dr. Edwards.

Harold, what are you doing here?

I may not have been completely honest with you in our session, but you were right.

We've both been down the same road, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that revenge will never bring you closure.

You gotta help me.

Shut up!

I'm not a m*rder*r.

You're a liar.

I dropped the package off to her in the morning, and that's all I did.

I didn't like leaving packages at people's doorsteps during the holidays.

A lot of thieves. A lot of bad people out there.

I made sure she signed for it, and then I left.

And I never came back that night.

You really expect me to believe that's why you kept going back?

I know you k*lled her.

This is where you met.

Where you proposed.

Why would you desecrate her memory by committing m*rder in the place where you were happiest?

Who said anything about m*rder?

When they search his apartment, they'll find evidence he's been plotting to k*ll me.

With the g*nsh*t residue on his hands, there won't be any doubt he pulled the trigger.

They'll put you away for the rest of your life, and there won't be anything you can do to stop it.

After I pull the trigger, tell them he sh*t me.

Do that, and then everything will fall into place.

Harold, whoever you are, I'm begging you, let me have this.

Harold.

Move away.

John, don't sh**t.

Shane, listen to me.

I watched someone close to me die before my eyes.

Like you, I thought I needed to make sure that everyone responsible for that m*rder paid with their life, and that almost did it.

I had my target, I had my finger on the trigger, but I realized that as certain as I was that these people deserved retribution, that life was infinitely more complicated than that.

You may never know what happened on that day, but if you do this, if you condemn his life, there will be no doubt what you did to him.

Even when your world stops, the world around you keeps moving forward, and you will too, but if you die here, that bright, beautiful, lively woman that fell in love with you here will forever die with you.

I know you don't want that.

[sobs]

[sobbing]

You're even less chatty than usual.

It's a long night.

Want to talk about it?

Okay.

How about we discuss payback instead?

I got you into the gala. Now you give me something real about yourself. No more shutting me out.

Tell me something you're not so proud of, starting with how you deal with grief.

There was a woman once.

She meant everything to me.

I kept her at arm's length.

I went away for a long time.

Then I learned she d*ed.

So what happened?

Talk to me, John. If you ever want to be able to move on, you have to grieve.

I'm not sure I know how to do that.

There he is.

Aw, he missed you.

Hey, boy.

Thanks for looking after him.

Any time.

Did you get everything taken care of?

Um, still working on it. Think it's gonna be okay.

I'm glad to hear it.

Maybe we can walk him together sometime.

Maybe.

[door closes]

Want to go?

It looks like Edwards might finally be starting to move on.

What about Morris?

Did he k*ll Edwards' wife or not?

That's a question between him and his maker.

Perhaps we should follow our own advice and let him go.

That's not good enough.

The machine's got to know the truth.

It may, and the truth will likely remain with it.

As frustrating as it might seem, some questions may never be answered.

But what I do know is this--

If Morris is a k*ller and tries to k*ll again, we'll be there.

Come on. Come on.