06x09 - Nobody Lives Forever

[bunniefuu]

(engine shuts off)

Well?

It’s a fine automobile, Alfredo.

Fine?

Sunsets are fine.

Puppies are fine.

This car is exquisite.

Six-piston GT-R, slotted brake kit, 5.4-liter supercharged V8.

Not to mention the unbeatable security system I designed for it.

"Fine." Well, it’s just not what I expected.

That’s all.

I mean, you said we’d be touring in the most revolutionary car out there.

You think some other car is more revolutionary?

I don’t think it’s a matter of opinion.

Charles Duryea’s 1893 Motor Wagon represented the greatest single advancement in the history of motor craft.

Fine, have it your way.

Oh, man.

Well, my spirits have been elevated as you intended.

The setting is just right, and I’m as ready as I’ll ever be to entertain whatever request you’ve been working up the gumption to voice.

Okay, smart guy.

I need you to help me steal $100,000.

How’d you get the keys to the bio lab?

(chuckles)

My best friend’s a T.A.

in the department.

Is it cool that we’re in here?

It’s fine.

(grunts)

Seriously, is it?

Maybe you should stop asking so many questions, huh?

Maybe I should stop asking so many questions.

(both laugh)

Oh, my God!

(squeaking)

Is that a rat?

They’re all over the place.

They’re coming from back there.

(clattering, squeaking)

What is that?

I don’t know, but it’s-it’s awful.

I was talking about the sound.

(squeaking continues)

(gasps quietly)

♪ ♪ BELL: Victim’s name is Noah Fogel.

He was a biology professor.

Couple of students found his body last night, but decomp suggests he’s been dead four or five days.

How has he been lying here that long?

This campus is very busy.

Usually, but everybody was on midterm break last week.

Nobody around to find Dr.

Fogel.

Except his rats, that is.

Looks like he collapsed into the cages, knocked them over, the rats got out.

And they repaid the favor by eating the guy.

So, what makes you think this was a m*rder?

Dr.

Fogel wasn’t the only casualty.

CSU found four dead rats in and around his stomach.

So he ate something that was poisoned, and then those rats ate him?

Hopefully the lab will be able to tell us what was in his system.

Hmm.

I think it was thallium.

What?

It’s a soft metal.

It’s odorless, colorless, tasteless, but extremely toxic.

What makes you think that’s what we’re looking at here?

High doses of thallium cause hair loss, which would explain this.

Well, if you’re right, the question is-- what did this guy eat that was laced with the stuff?

Maybe those live rats will be able to tell us.

If we compare their droppings in the next few days to what’s inside the dead ones, we might be able to identify what item of food was poisoned.

Disgusting, but I get how it could lead us to the person who did the poisoning.

So, how do we take a bunch of rats into evidence?

BELL: We don’t.

Animal control will come get them.

Standard procedure for any animals involved in an investigation.

Guess I should warn them these guys have a taste for human flesh.

WOMAN:Noah kept to himself really.

He was studying the effects of pesticides on small mammals.

That’s why he had so many rats in the lab.

He also taught a section of undergrad biology every semester.

But his real passion was research.

He hated teaching almost as much as his students hated him.

They hated him?

Noah was tough.

They called him "No A" behind his back.

He sank a lot of GPAs over the years.

It’s hard to imagine anyone would k*ll him over a C-plus.

Can you get us a list of the kids that he taught the last few years?

Sure.

What about Dr.

Fogel’s personal life?

You said he kept to himself.

He pretty much lived his whole life inside this building.

Perhaps his drug dealer delivered.

What is it?

HOLMES: Amphetamine, by the looks of it.

It appears that Dr.

Fogel’s rise to the top was not entirely self-propelled.

There are 49 here.

I’d wager there were an even 50 when he bought them-- likely the same day he bought this newspaper.

They were inside it.

This is from last Thursday, right around the time he d*ed.

Perhaps he was poisoned by a bad batch of speed.

Any idea who his dealer was?

No.

Like I said, I hardly ever saw him with anyone.

Might I suggest a good old-fashioned witch hunt?

Richie Esposito, I’m Captain Gregson.

This is Detective Bell.

Thanks for coming in.

Sure.

What am I doing here?

(chuckles)

Come on, Richie.

You can’t be too surprised.

You’ve been selling amphetamine and weed to college kids for two years.

Who told you that?

Pretty much everyone.

I walked around campus today.

Every kid I talked to said you were the guy to go to for study buddies with a witch on ’em.

That’s the downside to good branding.

You made a name for yourself.

Okay, fine.

Wherever you got those pills, they came from me.

But this is nuts.

You said this is Major Cases, right?

And you’re a captain?

I’m just a guy who deals a little speed at the student union.

Don’t sell yourself short, Richie.

You’re also a m*rder suspect.

What?

Noah Fogel’s dead.

Poisoned.

We know he was one of your clients.

You sold those pills to Noah right before he d*ed, didn’t you?

What’s the lab gonna tell us about what’s in them?

Nothing.

My stuff is clean.

But as far as Noah goes, he was a great customer.

He paid up front, on time, and never caused any trouble.

I was making a k*lling off that guy, especially lately.

What do you mean?

He was buying more pills than ever.

He said, uh, he was staying up late working on some...

secret project.

You need to find out what it was.

Why?

Because he said it was going to be the death of him.

I thought he was joking, but...

I don’t know-- maybe it was.

You think someone k*lled him over his research?

All I know is he’s dead and I didn’t do it.

Figure out what he was working on, maybe you’ll find the person who did.

HOLMES: That "safest rides in New York" sign looks like it was painted by a child.

Have you considered the possibility that the owner of this establishment hasn’t paid you because he’s an imbecile and simply forgot?

No, it’s ’cause he’s a piece of garbage.

I told you it took me a month to install security systems in every car in his fleet.

And you haven’t been paid for parts or labor?

98 G’s.

Owner said I did shoddy work, refused to pay.

You ever know me to do shoddy work?

Owner keeps a lot of cash in a safe inside.

I’m only gonna take what I’m owed.

Obviously, the alarm system’s not a problem, but I’m no expert when it comes to cracking safes.

His is in a wall.

It’s got a dial combination.

Think you can cr*ck it?

As I told you before, planning the perfect crime is child’s play compared to unraveling one.

But I’m just...

I’m not seeing the whole picture.

Oh, place backs up into a warehouse.

There’s nobody there after 6:00.

No, that’s not what I meant.

I’ve heard no mention of a civil lawsuit, claims court, Better Business Bureau.

There are any number of non-felonious ways that you could make yourself whole.

Your willingness to stoop to theft suggests a dire crisis, so...

what’s going on?

It’s my brother.

Dante?

He put you up to this?

No, he doesn’t know anything about it.

His silk screen company went belly-up.

He owes his business partners 85 grand.

If he doesn’t pay in three days, it’s kneecaps-- at least.

Well, the good news is they could never break his spine, ’cause we both know he hasn’t got one.

Sherlock.

Come to think of it, he hasn’t got a heart, either.

If he’s in trouble, he no doubt deserves it.

He deserves more.

I’m not going to help him.

But you’re not helping him; you’re helping me.

It’s my money, and I want it back.

You in or out?

Out.

You serious?

When am I not?

(sighs)

(engine starts)

(cacophony of animal sounds plays over stereo)

WATSON: What is that sound?

Mating calls of the Serengeti.

A number of studies have concluded that exposure to nature sounds can reduce stress and improve focus.

Yeah, I think they were talking about, like, rain or ocean waves, not horny wildebeests.

(turns stereo volume down)

What’s all this?

This is every bit of research that was available at Dr.

Fogel’s lab.

I had it sent over when Marcus said his drug dealer was a dead end.

Got the same message.

Guy was a sleaze, but the speed he sold tested negative for thallium.

So, you see anything worth k*lling over?

So far, nothing that might pertain to the secret project the drug dealer was alluding to.

It’s hard to imagine the news that pesticides should not be injected directly into rat brains would shock the world.

Everything okay with Alfredo?

As a matter of fact, no.

He is, uh, quite keen on burglarizing a used car dealership, and he asked me to help.

What?

I-I’ve no qualms in committing the crime.

The, uh, proprietor owes him money.

The problem is he revealed the heist is to benefit his brother, Dante, who’s fallen on hard times.

So...?

So, Dante’s a cancer, and he deserves hard times.

He deserves more, actually.

You know him?

I know his story.

Growing up, Alfredo’s parents were often absent, so there was little to prevent Dante from dragging his younger brother into his burgeoning criminal career.

Alfredo’s first fight, his first shoplift, his introduction to heroin-- all Dante’s handiwork.

Alfredo asked you for a favor, you said no, so why are you still angry?

’Cause after I turned him down, he had the temerity to say that was what he expected.

That I have no idea what it means to be a good brother.

He knows about Mycroft?

Well, he used to be my sponsor.

He remains one of my closest confidants, so yes, he knows all about my brother.

I’m confused.

Are you mad at Alfredo right now or Mycroft?

Because I thought you made peace with what he did a long time ago.

Uh, respectfully, Watson, I just...

I need peace and quiet to finish this work, so...

I’ll let you know if I find anything that might lead us to Noah Fogel’s k*ller.

(dogs barking, rats squeaking)

"The sex scandal that rocked the statehouse "took another turn Monday, "when the lieutenant governor’s office disclosed misappropriated funds." These knuckleheads in Albany can’t keep it in their pants, Piper.

(explosions outside)

(dogs barking)

(explosions continue)

(dogs continue barking)

(vehicle door closes, engine starts)

(tires squealing)

What the...?

Hey, boss, it’s Wade.

I’m sorry to call so late.

You know them lab rats the cops brought over?

Yeah, the ones from the crime scene.

Somebody just stole them all.

The rats were right here when I went out to see who was setting off the fireworks.

What about the gray van you saw pulling away from the building?

Did you see the driver?

Sorry.

It was dark.

I was far away.

I think the license plate started with a "T" or "L." You have security cameras?

Nah.

There’s barely enough money here to feed the animals.

What’s so important about these rats?

It’s not like they’re witnesses, right?

Well, we think the person who stole the rats might be our k*ller, so we’re hoping to find something here that would lead us to him.

Her.

I found this in the parking lot.

What is it?

It’s the edge of a shirt cuff.

Given the button and the floral detailing, I’d say it belonged to a woman’s blouse.

Note the distinct aroma.

Hmm.

Fireworks.

HOLMES: Black powder, antimony trisulfide and dextrin, to be precise.

The thief lit a dozen Roman candles, but I think this is the one that gave her some problems.

As you can see, it misfired, exploding from here rather than at the top.

Now, if I’m right, the woman who lit it was struck by a flaming substance which burns at 600 degrees centigrade.

Ouch.

Indeed.

And the odds are quite good that after absconding with the rats, the thief went to the nearest hospital for treatment.

And if she did...

We can identify her.

HOLMES: So you still have all your fingers.

You’re very lucky.

Firework accidents can be very serious.

I told you, I burnt myself cooking.

I don’t know anything about any animal shelter getting robbed.

BELL: Stop.

Okay, we already confirmed that you rented a gray van yesterday, same kind that was seen peeling away from the shelter.

HOLMES: I’m curious-- did you set the rodents you stole free, or...

did you m*rder them as well?

What?

WATSON: We know you took Noah Fogel’s rats so we wouldn’t figure out how you poisoned him.

What we don’t know is what you had against him.

No.

No way.

I did steal the rats.

Okay, you got me.

But I had nothing to do with Noah’s death.

You could see how that would be hard for us to believe?

I’m a geneticist.

I was in Iowa last week for a conference.

I got back yesterday morning.

I wasn’t even here when Noah d*ed.

Our lab found thallium in a carton of milk at Noah’s house.

You could have dosed it before you left.

No.

You can have my fingerprints, my DNA.

I will give you whatever you want.

HOLMES: How about...

a reason that you would have stolen dozens of lab rats, if not to cover up the m*rder?

Is $5 million a good enough reason?

I was trying to win the Galahad Prize.

As in the Galahad Institute.

It’s a nonprofit.

They’re trying to find a cure for aging.

They offered five million bucks to the first person who could genetically alter a rat to double its life span.

How is creating a bunch of geriatric rats gonna stop humans from aging?

First, you work toward everlasting rats, then pigs and dogs, then monkeys and apes, and one day...

Everlasting us.

The Galahad Prize was supposed to inspire people to take the first steps.

Noah Fogel had taken quite a few.

One of his rats lived to the age of six last month.

That is close to hitting the benchmark.

When I heard Noah was dead, I called around to see what happened to his animals.

I thought, if I could reverse-engineer his process...

...I might win the five million myself, but I didn’t k*ll him.

I know we can’t rule her out completely, but I don’t think she did it.

I don’t think so, either.

But it’s easy to imagine someone like her did.

If winning the Galahad Prize was the secret project that Mr.

Fogel was involved in, then their pool of contestants could easily double as our pool of suspects.

The institute she mentioned is worth visiting.

Find out who else is competing for the money.

All right.

You guys go.

I’ll look into her story, see if it holds water.

I’ll call you if I find anything.

"Named after Sir Galahad, the famed Arthurian knight "who gained immortality by touching the Holy Grail, "the Galahad Institute was established in 1991 "by Dudley Becket, philanthropist, scholar "and heir to the celebrated Becket Medicated Powder Company." Their best-selling product is rectal cream.

I’m not sure who’s celebrating them.

Well, if it’s not you, you should count yourself lucky.

"For more than 25 years, the Galahad Institute "has supported research "to improve the human mind, body and soul.

"From innovative hypnotherapy techniques "to cutting-edge anti-aging science, "the institute plans to someday free mankind from the tyranny of death." A perfectly admirable quest made to sound like a delusion of grandeur by an incompetent copywriter.

Last night, you asked if I still harbored ill feelings towards my brother.

I do.

A bunch of French mobsters wanted to k*ll him.

Did he solve the problem the way you would have?

No, but you’ve got to get over it.

What?

Couple of months ago, during my sabbatical in Vermont, I read a story in a French newspaper about a particularly nasty drug w*r in Andorra.

The leadership of Le Milieu was completely wiped out by the Sicilian Mafia.

Are you saying that all the people that wanted to k*ll Mycroft are dead?

As French doornails.

Did a bit of digging.

There is no longer any thr*at against him.

There is also no chance that he’s unaware of this development.

He could be sitting here with us now at this very moment if he so chose.

Why didn’t you tell me?

I suppose I was angry.

A little embarrassed.

My brother no longer has a price on his head, and I had to learn about that from a newspaper.

Did you reach out to him?

Why would I?

Because he’s your brother.

The dissolution of our relationship is a mess entirely of his making.

Reestablishing communication is his responsibility.

Are you seriously keeping score?

It doesn’t matter who calls who first.

You get to see your brother again.

You’re taking his side-- understandably.

Perhaps if I’d have given you three and a half orgasms, you’d see things my way.

Excuse me?

MAN: Mr.

Holmes.

Ms.

Watson.

I’m Hunter Becket.

This way, please.

(Holmes clears throat)

Dad, these are the police consultants.

Mr.

Holmes, Ms.

Watson, this is my father Dudley.

He’s the real brains around here.

Well, if I’m the brains, then, uh, Hunter is the brawn.

He’s the one who’s kept the Galahad Institute pushing forward since my surgery.

Titanium.

Last year.

My joints are the only part of me the worms don’t get to eat.

That’s assuming the worms get any of you.

The whole point of this place is to extend life indefinitely, is it not?

Don’t think we’re gonna get there in my lifetime.

Maybe Hunter’s.

But yes, one day, the research we fund, the scientists we support, it’s going to change life on this planet.

WATSON: Actually, we’re here to talk about one of your scientists.

Are you aware of what happened to Noah Fogel?

It’s tragic.

He was such a smart guy.

DUDLEY: I can’t tell you how much I wanted to write a check for $5 million to that man.

He was close.

We’re exploring the possibility that one of his competitors k*lled him.

They wanted to buy time so they could get the $5 million.

I’m-I’m sorry.

The entire point of this contest is to preserve life.

To think that someone would k*ll over it...

Have you talked to his partner?

We weren’t aware he had a partner.

Elijah Robinson.

Brilliant geneticist, but, uh...

troubled.

He had a chaired position at one of those Oxbridge places, right?

They gave him the boot.

He slept with a student and b*at up her boyfriend.

Nobody we spoke to mentioned Elijah.

Are you sure they were working together?

Well, I couldn’t speak to how they divvied up their research, but, uh, they cosigned their grant requests and status reports.

So you think that Elijah is the person we should be looking for?

Like I said, he’s troubled.

I don’t suppose you’d have his address on file, would you?

Seems a little excessive, don’t you think?

Mr.

Robinson’s a research biologist, not a commando.

BELL: He’s a person of interest in a homicide.

In a poisoning.

I mean, as long as we turn down the tea service, I think we’ll be fine.

BELL: Mr.

Robinson has three semiautomatic r*fles registered to his name and two priors for violent as*ault.

So last time, he used poison.

This time, he might use his Smith & Wesson.

MAN (over radio): Marcus, we found him.

Looks like he’s been dead over a week.

Yeah, smells like it, too.

That would mean he d*ed before Professor Fogel.

Doesn’t mean he isn’t our poisoner.

Given his own m*rder, though, his culpability does seem less likely.

Hmm.

Someone hit him with something heavy.

I can feel a major fracture between his spine and occipital bone.

Probably what k*lled him.

HOLMES: That may be, but I don’t think that was the k*ller’s plan.

I think he had an entirely different modusin mind.

What are you talking about?

This.

Is that paint?

Pigment, actually.

Prussian blue, to be exact.

Which also doubles as the antidote for thallium poisoning.

You saying, if Noah Fogel got to an art store in time, he could’ve saved himself?

Prussian blue is an ion exchange material.

You swallow it, it pulls the toxin out of your system so you expel it.

I submit the k*ller brought it with him as a safety precaution.

His original plan was to lace Elijah’s milk as he did with Dr.

Fogel.

The Prussian blue was in case he exposed himself.

So he broke in, he’s in here monkeying with the milk when Elijah comes home from the grocery store.

And then they fought to the death.

At some point, I’d say Elijah was felled with a...

a blow from perhaps this rolling pin.

Which is a w*apon of convenience.

I mean, we can, uh, test it for prints, but it’s likely the k*ller wore gloves to handle the poison.

Well, then he should’ve done a better job cleaning up before he left.

This is not pigment.

It’s dried blood.

You think it’s from the k*ller?

Well, it didn’t come from Elijah.

Even with the decomp, I can tell he doesn’t have any open wounds.

The fight didn’t leave him bleeding.

The k*ller must have gotten cut.

Well, if you’re right, let’s hope he’s in the system.

BELL: Hey, Captain.

Sorry to catch you on your way out, but you know that blood we found at Elijah Robinson’s house?

Yeah.

Well, we got a hit.

I’m pretty sure you’re gonna want to see it.

GREGSON: You gotta be kidding me.

BELL: No, I had the lab double-check.

She’s a perfect match for the blood.

A 15-year-old girl?

Her name’s Lacey Evans.

She’s a freshman at Saint Matthew’s Academy.

She’s on the honor roll.

She does field hockey.

And now she’s a suspect in two murders.

Mom, where’d you put my field hockey stuff?

What?

Why would you think that was my blood?

Well, when your father was stationed in Riyadh, everyone in your family got put into the Army’s DNA registry in case of a kidnapping.

That’s why your DNA’s in the system.

What we don’t know is why it was in the home of a m*rder victim.

Say something, honey.

Please.

Look, we don’t think you did it.

Okay?

Elijah Robinson was twice your size.

It’s hard to imagine you’re the one who bashed in his skull.

But you were there, right?

You saw who did?

No.

But...

I did know Elijah.

How?

Ma’am.

Can you tell us how your blood got on the door to his refrigerator?

That is where he was storing it.

My blood, I mean.

Uh, I-I was selling it to him.

That’s how I knew him.

What do you mean, you were selling your blood to him?

Last year, my friend Jenna told me that her uncle would pay cash for it.

A hundred bucks every donation.

Sounded sketchy, but she said that Elijah-- that’s her uncle-- he knew what he was doing.

She said it would be safe and clean.

What exactly did he want with your blood?

He was selling it.

Mine and Jenna’s.

To, like, old people.

They-they’d inject blood from teenagers to feel young.

I’ve heard about this.

There’s a growing market for young blood.

But it is unregulated.

Probably how Elijah was paying his bills.

Mom...

I stopped doing it, okay?

If I hadn’t, maybe I’d be dead, too.

What do you mean?

This one time, Jenna and I showed up at Elijah’s house, and...

he was fighting outside with some guy.

They were, like, pushing and shoving.

It was, like, a legit fight.

When was this?

Few months ago.

It totally freaked us out.

That’s when we stopped going.

Who was this guy?

I-I don’t know.

But I got the whole thing on my phone.

I can send you the video if you want.

HOLMES: There was $114,000 in the safe.

I didn’t heed your advice.

I took it all.

Donated the, uh, remainder to charity.

I didn’t ask you to rob the dealership by yourself.

I didn’t think you were gonna help at all.

Well, I reconsidered.

Dante may not have cared that you would’ve ended up in prison again, but...

I would have.

You didn’t rob anyone.

I just told you I did.

I was your sponsor for two years.

I can tell when you’re lying.

This is your money.

Does its provenance really matter?

You wanted to help your brother.

Now you can.

Thanks, but no, thanks.

If I’ve wounded your pride in some way, just consider it payment for services rendered.

You’ve lent me your expertise on many of my cases.

It’s not about pride, okay?

It’s about you, how you treat people who make mistakes.

(sighs)

How many second and third chances have you gotten?

Plenty, right?

Now, how often do you give ’em?

I’ve forgiven many people their sins over the years.

Is that right?

Yeah.

’Cause I haven’t seen it.

I mean, don’t get me wrong.

If it was someone from the program and they were going through the steps and they asked for forgiveness, you’d give it in a second, but come on, man, my brother, yours, it’s like...

you want them to find the deepest hole they can and jump in.

Let’s leave my brother out of this.

I’d love to, but he’s obviously part of the problem.

You hold grudges.

It’s not good.

(sighs)

Just take the check, Alfredo.

(sighs)

You know, it’s funny-- you can, um...

you can be really generous when you want to be.

You should think about being that way more often.

Looks good on you.

WATSON: You’re still watching that video that Lacey Evans gave us?

I told you, you can’t see the guy’s face who’s fighting with Elijah Robinson.

Marcus and I went over it a hundred times.

Well, I’m at 203.

You can join me for 204.

What did you do to it?

When we watched it, there was this weird pink tint.

Yes, Miss Evans ran her little Zapruder film through this grotesque filter called "Cozy Rosy." I couldn’t bear it, so I corrected the chroma scheme.

I’ve been trying to read the late Mr.

Robinson’s lips, but the shaky camera work has made it a little bit difficult.

I was wondering why he kept saying, "You go," to his assailant.

But then I realized he wasn’t saying, "You go." He was saying, "Hugo." He knew his attacker, and his name is Hugo.

Unfortunately, that’s not enough to identify him.

We do need more.

You can stop.

He works at Burrito Land.

It’s a fast food chain.

You would hate it.

Um, I couldn’t tell the color of his shirt when everything was pink, but now that you got rid of the filter, I can see that the stripes on his shirt are mauve and orange.

Nobody would put those two colors together except Burrito Land.

I mean, there can’t be that many employees there named Hugo, right?

Mr.

Irving, I’m Captain Gregson.

This is Detective Bell.

I don’t care who you are.

I just want you to tell me what I’m doing here.

Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson were both found dead this week, and we think you k*lled them.

They’re dead?

Both of them?

You’re going to tell us you didn’t know?

(chuckles)

I didn’t.

But I can tell you it’s a good thing.

A blessing, in fact.

You shouldn’t arrest whoever did it.

You should thank them.

How is that?

There’s a natural order to the world.

A way things are meant to be.

Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson were interfering with that.

The work they were doing, trying to subvert nature...

...it was depraved.

I tried to warn them, both of them, but they didn’t stop.

So you stopped them?

No.

Wouldn’t be the first time you went after scientists, Hugo.

You did 23 months upstate not long ago for sending fake anthr*x to stem cell researchers.

We have video evidence that you knew where Elijah Robinson lived.

All that makes you a pretty strong suspect.

And in a way, I’m flattered.

It would make me a hero.

But I didn’t do it.

Elijah Robinson was beaten to death Saturday before last.

We know because he had a grocery receipt in his pocket.

Can you account for your whereabouts on the 17th?

Saturdays, I always work a double shift.

There are cameras at the restaurant.

If you check ’em, you’ll see.

I didn’t k*ll anyone.

(waves crashing)

"When anxious, uneasy "and bad thoughts come, I go to the sea, "and the sea drowns them out with its great wide sounds, "cleanses me with its noise "and imposes a rhythm upon everything in me that is bewildered and confused." It’s also good for swimming.

I was quoting Rainer Maria Rilke, the German poet.

He was consumed by a need to understand the, uh, fundamental essence of the world.

And himself.

Think I would’ve gotten on quite well with him.

Said you wanted to talk, so talk.

You said earlier that, um, you know, forgiveness should be encouraged.

Well, I’d ask that you forgive me now.

’Cause I went to see your brother earlier on.

I gave him the check that I tried to give you.

Sherlock, that’s not what I wanted...

No, I told him exactly what I thought of him.

That his treatment of you over the years was reprehensible, and...

and then I forgave him.

How’d it feel?

Well, it was more of a practice run than anything else.

What do you mean?

I reached out to this banker I know in the Cayman Islands.

I’m reasonably sure that he’s facilitated Mycroft’s life on the lam.

And it might take some time, but, uh, I think he can connect me with Mycroft.

You know, it’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment that my resentment towards my brother began.

But if I had to bet, I’d say...

sometime in the days or weeks following my birth.

He has this tremendous capacity for joy, and I just...

He has wronged me.

But I-I will...

I will forgive him.

And then?

Well, then perhaps he’ll forgive me.

And then I’ll have my brother back.

(footsteps approaching)

You look repulsed, and there’s tarragon in the air.

Are you back on that cleanse?

I like this tea.

I’m repulsed by this.

I printed out a bunch of posts from Hugo Irving’s favorite message boards.

He hasn’t cracked yet?

He’s not going to.

His alibi checked out.

But I read the interview transcript, and he said something to the captain and Marcus that made me think.

He told them that k*lling Fogel and Robinson would have made him a hero.

Which made me wonder-- a hero to who?

Who...

who cheers a couple of scientists getting k*lled?

If such creatures exist, surely they exist online.

Hugo’s made tracks all over the Dark Web.

Especially in a few anti-science, fundamentalist chat rooms.

So, you think we had the wrong man but the right motive?

It’s a worthy theory.

I’ll help you test it.

As long as you leave that wretched brew behind.

Watson.

(gasps quietly)

Oh, my God.

Am I dreaming, or...

did you just wake me up with no theatrics?

Well, you were quite understanding of the extra sleep I required during my bout with PCS.

I thought I’d return the favor...

once.

Mmm.

What’s up?

Plup.

Plup?

After you went to bed, I dug through the ramblings of several dozen discussion board denizens, and I came across a friend of Hugo’s who calls himself Plup.

His posts were very troubling.

How so?

Well, he knows things about the Galahad Prize that he shouldn’t know.

Names of the geneticists, addresses of their laboratories, statistics from their progress reports.

And he’s been giving this information out on the boards?

Freely and abundantly.

To Hugo, to various crackpots, offering all of them sensitive data on those who chase the Galahad Prize, and urging them to act on it violently.

Have a look for yourself.

"You should pull this guy’s eyes out and introduce them to his..." Sounds like Noah Fogel got off easy swallowing thallium and getting eaten by rats.

The point is it was Plup who told Hugo where to find Elijah Robinson.

He was sabotaging the competition.

More precisely, he was provoking others to do it for him.

And when they failed to act, he took matters into his own hands.

Are you saying that Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson were k*lled by some anonymous discussion board troll?

Troll, yes.

Anonymous, no.

Not anymore.

The person who tried to sabotage the Galahad Prize is one of the men who organized it.

This guy you went and talked to the other day-- you think he’s the k*ller?

Yeah.

Hunter Becket k*lled Noah Fogel and Elijah Robinson.

But not for lack of trying to delegate their deaths.

WATSON: Hunter uses the screen name Plup on fundamentalist message boards.

And most of the people on there think that Western medicine is an affront to God.

So the idea that someone would alter DNA to extend human life, they would do almost anything to stop that.

Except, to their minimal credit, murdering scientists.

Now, you can see here quite clearly that Hunter’s Plup alter ego is trying to rally these zealots into doing his dirty work for him.

When they balked, he did it himself.

What I can see is this Plup guy has a lot of sensitive information about the inner workings of Galahad.

How do you know he wasn’t some hacker who broke into their servers?

Their servers are nigh impenetrable.

We reached out to some hacker acquaintances.

They didn’t see how anyone could break into Galahad’s network.

Plup is a leaker, not a hacker.

The Galahad Institute has, what, 30 employees?

What makes you so sure Hunter’s our guy?

Look at the time stamps on the posts from Plup.

Every one of them is between 4:30 and 5:00 in the morning.

Yeah, he’s an early riser.

Yep.

Hunter Becket goes...

sculling every morning at sunrise on the Hudson.

His social media posts are awash with his rowing exploits.

It’s not just the timing of the messages that points to Hunter.

It’s his motive also.

If no one collects the prize, he keeps the $5 million.

But he’s the one hosting the contest, and he’s already filthy rich.

Not quite as well-off as he once was.

Before his father drank the anti-aging Kool-Aid, Hunter was in line to inherit the Becket Medicated Powder fortune.

But then his father emptied the family piggy bank into his institute.

The old man still calls all the sh*ts.

So now this guy’s a trust fund brat with no trust fund.

Mm-hmm.

And much as he would like to, Dudley Becket is not going to b*at death.

When he dies, Hunter will take control of Galahad, and then he can eliminate the prize and reclaim his inheritance.

Noah and Elijah were getting close to doubling the life span of a rat, so they had to go.

GREGSON: Even if you’re right, we can’t arrest somebody for weird screen names and their rowing schedule.

Yeah, CSU didn’t find anything useful at either crime scene, so how are we supposed to nail this guy?

Well, it’s funny you should mention nails.

This is a joke, right?

I didn’t k*ll anyone.

You didn’t want to, but Noah and Elijah were getting close to taking a big bite out of your inheritance.

HOLMES: You’re not a scientist, but you know a bit about powders-- thallium, for example.

The first time you tried to use it to poison someone didn’t go quite according to plan.

You were caught in the act of trying to dose Elijah Robinson’s milk, so you hit him with a rolling pin instead.

Dr.

Fogel’s m*rder went much more smoothly.

Dad, this is nonsense.

BELL: Is it?

We identified a chemical plant in Manila that does business with Becket Medicated Powder.

They process and store elemental thallium.

They’re going through their shipping records for us.

What are the odds you had a package of thallium sent to yourself sometime in the past couple months?

No, this must be some kind of mistake.

No, I’m sorry, the only mistake was made by him.

The first time we met, I couldn’t help but notice you kept picking your fingernails all the way through our conversation.

Two of them were still bleeding.

You’d obviously just clipped them.

I was wondering, why did he clip them so low?

It was only when you became a suspect that that made sense.

We found a pigment called Prussian blue on Elijah Robinson’s kitchen counter.

It’s an antidote for thallium poisoning.

You brought some with you when you went to the house.

We think you spilled it when the two of you fought.

HOLMES: Anyone working with thallium would keep Prussian blue nearby.

At some point during your preparation to k*ll two people, you got it under your fingernails.

It was still there when we came to talk to you the other day, so you clipped your nails before you greeted us.

Look.

WATSON: We found those in the trash.

A DNA test will prove they’re yours, won’t it?

Son, is this true?

Did you k*ll those men?

WATSON: Hey, I just heard from Marcus.

Hunter’s lawyers are already talking to the D.A.

about making a plea deal.

What’s happened?

Uh...

so, uh, yesterday, I reached out to a...

a banker in the Cayman Islands.

I felt...

I felt quite certain that he’d be able to help me...

locate Mycroft, and, uh...

I was right.

That’s great.

Where is he?

Leffen Trust Hospital?

It’s in, uh...

Timaru, on the east coast of New Zealand.

When did this happen?

Uh, nearly ten months ago.

Apparently, an intracranial hemorrhage is, um...

not unheard of in, uh, leukemia survivors.

They say it was, uh, instantaneous.

One minute, he-he was all right, and the next minute, he wasn’t.

So...

he-he wouldn’t have suffered before he d*ed.

He’s faked his death before.

I mean, maybe...

No.

♪ Slow September falling ♪ No.

♪ We’ve seen another year ♪ ♪ Wild wind comes a-calling ♪ ♪ But you’re no longer here.

♪