03x08 - Most Likely

[bunniefuu]

Hi, I'm Doctor Maguire.

Uh, we have a- a presentation over here
that you might be interested in.

Would anyone like a brochure?

I can't say these refrigerator magnets
are a big draw either.

This isn't working, is it?

I'm sure this antiseptic
lab coat isn't helping.

- Hi.
- Thanks.

Oh my God, did you see that?

Yeah, but if they saw me up
to my elbows in large intestine,

they'd think it's really hot.

So, Jordan, did you think you'd be doing
this when you were in high school?

I was happy just to graduate.

Becoming a doctor wasn't
even a pipe dream.

I bet you were a very
interesting teenager.

Interesting good or interesting weird?

Just interesting.

Ah. What about you?

Uh, I'm guessing cheerleader?

Of course. Brochure?

Nice. Shorts, little sweaters,
the occasional short skirt?

Oh, uniform on game day. Mmm.

Rah, rah, rah. Oh, yearbook?

Most Likely to Never Change. You?

- Most Likely to Do Five to Ten.
- Oh.

- Yeah. I would have hated you.
- Likewise.

Police!
Boston PD, stay where you are.

- Keep your mouth closed.
- Be quiet.

Hands behind your head.

- I didn't do anything. / Be quiet!
- Open up against the wall.

Don't be stupid.

Hey, I don't have anything.

- Well, we'll see.
- What are you looking for?

- Who are you?
- M.E.'s Office.

We got a tip a shipment of cr*ck
made its way onto school grounds.

That's my locker.
Wait a minute. / Police!

- Hands against the wall.
- Get off me! I didn't do anything.

Hey!

Back off, lady.
This is police business.

- I'm a doctor, okay.
- What he needs is a lawyer. He's fine.

The hell he is. He's in shock.

Oh, we need some help here.

Is he okay?

No. Uh, do you know his name?

It's Steven Hayes.
Can I do anything?

Yeah, call the paramedics.

Steven.
Come on, Steven.

- We need some help, Devan.
- Yeah.

Gotcha. We got one.

Bag it!

Excuse me, Sergeant.
He's dead.

Standard procedure, Detective?

Sergeant O'Hara insists
his actions were warranted.

The kid was belligerent.

Does he look dangerous to you?

The lead was good.

IMB's on the way.

I mean, we can agree
that clearly this was an accident.

Look, Detective, we're not out
to get your Sergeant,

but if an autopsy shows that
he's responsible, he's responsible.

Should I talk to Macy about this?

Hey, you know what?
You can call the Pope for all I care.

Our job is to find out
why a sixteen-year-old boy is dead.

And I can promise you no one here
is taking sides.

Not yet, anyway.

Excuse me, Mister Vasco.

What can you tell us
about Steven Hayes?

He was a great kid.

Had some problems
with his grades lately,

but he was a gifted athlete.

The fact that there were dr*gs
in his locker is unbelievable to me.

You have any trouble with him before?

No. Steven was our star running back.

He liked to joke around,
but he was never in any trouble.

What about his parents?
Any other siblings?

He was an only child,
raised by his father.

Mom d*ed when he was little.

Was there any history
of drug abuse in the family?

Absolutely not.

My boy never did any damn dr*gs
and you know it.

What have you done with my son's body?

I want to see my boy.

Mister Hayes, I'm very sorry,
but uh, he's on his way to the morgue.

Then I want to speak to the cop
who k*lled him.

You have every right to be upset,

but I can assure you
nobody k*lled your son.

The hell he didn't.

There are fifty witnesses out there

who saw the whole damn thing.

And if you people think I'm gonna
sit back and let you whitewash this--

Mister Hayes, please.
I know this is a terrible tragedy,

but there's gonna be an investigation.

Somebody's gonna pay for this.

You hear me?

Someone's gonna pay.

Hey, what's up, guys?

Looks like spring went on strike.
I'm freezing.

Bug, tell me you brought
another one of those for me.

Since when do you drink hot green tea
with honey and black pearls?

Since my lips are so frostbit
they're about to fall off. / Enjoy.

- Ah, ha-ha-- / Ah--
- What a guy, what a guy.

What's goin' on, Lily?
What brings you out here?

Department says I need to complete
eighty-five hours of field work.

- This is my first case.
- Sorry it's not more exciting.

Looks like man versus city bus
with an obvious outcome. / Poor guy.

Dozen witnesses were on board.
They all say the same thing.

He just appeared in the street
without any warning.

Massive contusions to the head
courtesy of the front bumper.

Best part is Donald Foster was
an employee of the U.S. government.

What's so good about that?

They smacked an IRS auditor.

Hey, show a little respect.

So he either got tired of being despised
and decided to call it quits,

or he was distracted by all the evil deeds
he was hatching in his brain.

Either way, accident or su1c1de,
Bug take your pick.

Not so fast.

Don't tell me I missed something.

Okay, I won't, but you did.

Take a look at the top of his head.

See this pattern here?

Something oddly shaped hit him
on the cranium.

Not a bus bumper?

Not a bus bumper.

- Jordan.
- Mmm?

I just got off the phone with Walcott.

The kid's father already has a lawyer
who's issuing a cease and desist order.

- Ought to make our jobs a lot easier.
- Yeah.

They want an independent pathologist
to observe the autopsy,

so Doctor Melborne is coming
in from Philadelphia.

Ought to be here in a couple hours.

It's gonna be open and shut.
Cop did it.

You sure about that?

Seems pretty clear to me.

What's clear is that a sixteen-year-old
is dead and there

are a lot of unanswered questions.

Are you defending the police?

Look, you saw the same thing I did.

The kid was a football
player in decent shape.

There was one punch with a fist,
not a nightstick.

And it's possible that punch
caused severe internal damage.

You're jumping to conclusions.
Let the evidence speak for itself.

Who's gonna speak for Steven Hayes?

I need you to check
and recheck your findings.

We are literally policing the police,
so just be sure.

What have you got?

Uh, deep bruising and internal swelling,

indicative of internal bleeding.

Scratches on his arms and elbows,
probably from struggling with the cop.

Well, then again, football players
take a lot of punishment on the field.

Mmm, she's right.

Perfectly healthy looking athlete dies
from a single blow to the abdomen.

Doesn't make any sense.

How'd we do on the tox screen, Nigel?

Uh, negative for hematologic
abnormalities.

Gonna take a bit longer
to run the drug essay, I'm afraid.

I'm not convinced all those
bruises are from the raid.

Newspaper says Harding High
had a football game last night.

Okay, we're in dangerous territory here.

Identify every contusion on his body.

Any recent ones,
I want to know how they got there.

Okay, where should we start?

Well, like he said,
Hayes played football last night.

We start with the coach.

Your field trip or mine?

Something tells me you might be a little
more effective with jocks than I would.

Mmm, okay.

You know, I've been trying to shake
the whole cheerleader image

for a long time. Is it that bad?

Keep trying, luv.

Coach Vickers?

Let me guess. Another TV reporter.

Oh, no, sir. Not even close.

I'm Doctor Devan Maguire.
I'm from the coroner's office.

You work with stiffs all day?

Well, someone needs to brighten the place up.

Do you like football, Doc?

Nothing gets between me and my Patriots.

So I imagine you knew
Steven Hayes pretty well?

He was on my team
since freshman year.

Strong player.

Nice kid, too.

I need to know when he played last.

Last night against Saint Joe's.

He took a wicked beatin'.

Was he injured?

We had four of our players
carried off the field.

Hayes was one of `em.

Wow. Tough night.

How was he hit?

He got clipped.

Aggravated his knee problem.

That's not exactly the injury
we were looking for.

Something else caused
the abdominal bleeding,

which leads me to drug use.

Hayes seemed clean.

I mean, these kids today,
they do what they want, when they want.

Would it surprise me if he was using?
Absolutely.

But uh, these guys surprise every day.

Excuse me.

Are you the woman
who tried to save Steven?

Uh, one of them. Why?

I'm his girlfriend.

Was his girlfriend.

Can I just talk to you for a second?

Of course.
I'm so sorry. I'm Devan.

Andrea.

I just can't believe he's gone.

How long did you two know each other?

Since like first grade.

I think we always knew we'd end up
together, you know?

It just felt right.

Andrea, did the police ask you
any questions yet?

I tried talking to that guy, Detective Cruz,

but he wouldn't listen
to a word I said.

All this talk about
Steven's drug problem,

he didn't even smoke cigarettes.

Well, then why was
the cr*ck in his locker?

Look, I'm not lying to you.
I don't know how it got there,

but it wasn't his.

Steven was a crappy student
and he did a lot of stupid things,

but buying and selling,
that wasn't none of them.

What do you think you're doin'?

Nothing. We're just talking.

No, you don't talk to a witness without
talking to me first. You understand?

Yeah, whatever you say.

Okay, here is the lowdown.

Mister Internal Revenue Service
here did not just stroll into traffic.

He was in the neighborhood
to audit one Victor Carlson.

So was he m*rder*d before
or after he ruined someone's day?

You couldn't just let this be
an accident, could you, Bug?

I'm not the one who deliberately
slammed something into his skull.

So what do we do next?

Next, I am gonna go visit Victor Carlson.

It would help my next evaluation if I
followed this case from beginning to end.

And you know how helpful Bug can be
examining the crime scene and all.

Hello. Can I help you?

Hi, how are you?
I'm Detective Woody Hoyt, Boston PD.

Oh, um, Frances Littleton.

Do you mind if we ask you a few questions
regarding this morning's um, bus tragedy?

Oh, not at all.
What a terrible accident.

Uh, please, uh, come in.

I- I'm sort of in the middle of something.

Oh, those smell fantastic.

Oh, aren't you sweet. Do you bake?

Not really. I'm better at burning.

Oh, well, you should keep trying.

Cooking's very therapeutic.

The deceased had an appointment
with Victor Carlson this morning.

Was Mister Carlson one of your boarders?

Oh, yes. For seven years.

He's a lovely man. Oh, uh,
would you like a muffin?

- Oh, thank you--
- Thank you.

Is he here now?

No. Uh, Victor drove off
in a hurry this morning.

I don't know why.

Do you know where he went?

Uh, no, I'm sorry. I don't.

Could- could we see his room, please?

Um, of course.

This him?

Yes. And his wife.

Uh, a lonely widower subsisting
on a government pension.

It's- it's sad, really.

A man of simple needs.

Well, he has his past.

Sometimes it's enough.

Don't yell at me, Renee.

No, we can't start cutting until
the independent pathologist gets--

I gotta call you back.
I've got a situation.

Why is that high school crawling
with medical examiners?

Possibly because a violent death
occurred there this morning,

and last I heard,
Doctor Maguire was going alone.

No, she's interviewing witnesses.

That's part of her job, Detective Cruz.

Yeah, it's part of her job
to g*n for my Sergeant?

She's not gunning for anyone.

Look, half the city's out
for O'Hara's head on a plate.

And somebody's gotta stand up for him.

This kid was built like a brick outhouse.

You think uh,
some light punches k*lled him?

When we know why he d*ed,
we'll pass it along.

I've seen a dozen guys drop dead
because of cocaine.

Blood pressure right through the roof,
the heart craps out, they're gone.

That's it, end of story.

Excited delirium due to cocaine overdose.
I'm familiar with the syndrome.

There is, so far,
no evidence that kid was high.

Cocaine in the locker means cocaine
in the bloodstream.

That's it, guaranteed.
The kid was full of dr*gs.

dr*gs, yes. Cocaine, no.

Barbiturates.

Yeah. The plot thickens,
the mystery deepens.

Dead teens do tell tales, I guess.

Where were you guys?

Mrs. Littleton gave us some cookies
to share with the staff.

We thought the guys
in the garage might like a few.

That's cute.
Could we get back to work, please?

Here's the inside dirt on Victor Carlson.

Mmm, eleven years ago,

our tax offender retired from the
U.S. Postal Service

after thirty-seven years on the job.

Postal worker, what a surprise.

Only smudges on his sheet are
two incidences of domestic v*olence

in the early eighties.

So much for the lonely widower
who misses his wife terribly.

If two reports were filed,
how many weren't?

Question is, is it enough
to assume that the old guy snapped,

k*lled the IRS dude and took off?

I'd love to ask him
that question myself.

Where do you think he is?

I'm looking into family out of state,

and his car's not at the boarding house,
so I'm assuming he's driving.

I've got Highway Patrol
keeping their eyes open.

This is Hoyt.

Mrs. Littleton, slow down.
I can't understand what you're saying.

No, Mrs. Littleton,

no. Do not put yourself in any danger.
Do you understand me?

I will be right there. Okay?

Victor Carlson's back.

I tried to keep him here.

I knew you wanted to talk to him,

but he was in such a hurry.

He went to his room, and about
five minutes later, rushed out again.

He came back for the photo
of he and his wife.

That's pretty weird
under the circumstances.

I'm really sorry.
I- I did the best I could.

You did the right thing not interfering.
He's dangerous, ma'am.

Oh, well, I'm afraid
that I did interfere just a little.

I- I- I followed him to the door
and listened.

Um, he made a telephone call.

I couldn't make out the words, though.

Phone has a redial.

Freedom Bus Lines. May I help you?

So that's it.
I got nothin' to go to the DA with.

Thanks a lot, Doctor Cavanaugh.

Take it that was
the independent pathologist.

Yeah, Doctor Melborne
in all his raging glory.

Yeah, he didn't look too happy
when he left.

I think he lost his expert witness money.

The lung tissue shows signs of
gradual long-term respiratory failure.

You thinking it's
from prolonged drug use?

Well, given the cocaine in his locker
and the barbiturates in his system,

I doubt this'll go to trial now.

I noticed some scars on his tongue.

They look old.

Seizures maybe?

That's my guess.
Question is, were they drug-induced?

Fat necrosis of the pancreas.

The digestive enzymes damaged
the blood vessels,

causing them to rupture
into the intestinal cavity.

Okay, so I'll admit it.

- You were right, I was wrong.
- No, not necessarily.

The kid was sixteen.

His father, his coach, his girlfriend,
they're all painting a very different picture.

Well, if this kid was living another life
outside of football,

we need to know about it.

Could try talking to Principal Vasco again.

Well, information like this doesn't
really come from the principal's office.

Look, you already talked to the jocks
and cheerleaders.

Now it's my turn.

Hey, guys.
Can I have a minute?

I'm not a cop,
I'm a doctor.

I- I just have a few questions
about what happened this morning.

What happened is
Steven Hayes got himself k*lled.

Did any of you know him?

Did he hang out with you guys?

Um, I think you're asking
the wrong people here, lady.

Steven Hayes didn't hang out
with guys like us.

He played ball, you know?
He was Mister Popularity,

and you can't be both.

Uh, come on, man.
Even jocks use sometimes.

Steven got busted.

All our tests show that he had a problem.

Now, any of you ever party with him?

You weren't afraid to talk to me
when the raid was happening.

You even called for help.
Why not talk to me now?

Look, I- I don't know what you're sayin', lady,

but uh, if you want to discuss this privately,

you know, my ride's right in the parking lot.
It's got a real nice back seat.

We can get comfortable.

Well, thanks.
I- I think I'll pass, man.

Look, I just want to find out--

Find out what, exactly,
Doctor Cavanaugh?

I'm outa here.

Principal Vasco, what a surprise.

Had I known you wanted to talk
to some of our less cooperative students,

I could have arranged something.

I prefer to keep things
a little more impromptu.

I'd prefer you didn't.

Can I offer you a security escort
back to your car?

I think I can handle it.

Please, let me know
if I can be of further assistance.

You know where to find me.

Yeah, uh, how could I forget?

Did you finish the autopsy?

We're still running some labs.

It wasn't just O'Hara, right?

I mean, there's more to
Hayes's death than that.

I'm just trying to do my job here.
Why are you being so impatient, Detective?

Listen, to keep things from happening
that shouldn't happen.

- Like what?
- I had a partner.

Got crucified for being too rough
with a dirt bag kid who r*ped an old lady.

Turned out he wasn't eighteen yet.

The kid went to juvie, my partner
went to a desk job--permanently.

The laws are written to protect everyone.

The laws are written for a different world
at a different time.

You clear my Sergeant
and let's move on.

I'll let you know when Doctor Cavanaugh
and I complete our investigation.

No, I came up empty.

I was trying to get one of the kids
to talk when Vasco showed up

and ruined everything.

Uh, Devan, tell Garret
he's gotta hang on a little longer.

I know he's under a lot of pressure,

but until we can figure
out exactly what k*lled Steven,

Cruz and the D.A.'s Office
are gonna have to wait.

Okay, bye.

Don't scream. Just put it
in gear and get us out of here.

Relax. If you want money,
just take it, man.

I don't want your money, Doc.
I'm a cop.

Where's that green tea
when you need it?

There's a cute little cafe around
the corner that makes a k*ller latte.

Three doubles on me
if we're back in the car in five minutes.

You are on. Carlson's auto
is a sixty-nine El Dorado.

Uh, hard to miss considering
it's the size of the QE Two.

Sorry, Lily. Gonna have to take
a rain check on that latte.

Victor Carlson, freeze.

Victor?

I think he took your request a literally.

Dead as a mackerel.

Sorry, I just couldn't risk Vasco seeing us
together and getting suspicious.

The school supervisory
committee hired me,

and he only knows me
as the transfer kid from Connecticut.

How long have you been
working narcotics?

Well, deep cover at the school,
about three months,
but I'm just scratching the surface.

So what do you know
about Steven Hayes?

I know he was a lousy student,
and I know he didn't use at all.

Well, you saw the report.

I mean, if that's true,
how'd the downers get in his system?

And the dr*gs in his locker?

I try to track every major drug dealer
comes into the school,

and that cr*ck popped out of nowhere.

So you had nothing to do
with the raid this morning?

Zero. cr*ck of dawn,
I get a call from my division Captain.

Vasco ordered the whole thing.

I'm just supposed to keep my head down
and stay out of trouble.

Why Vasco?

That's what I keep asking.

The only thing they found was
the rock in Hayes' locker.

It's like he was the only target.

So Vasco ordered the raid
and Steven Hayes is the only kid affected.

And the specific drug in his locker
wasn't in his system or

bought from a school supplier.

Looks like there's more
to Vasco's relationship

with Steven than we know about.

Okay, so based on what we've got so far,
Carlson panicked,

clocked the auditor, left,
came back, left again,

went to the bus station.
But what happened after that?

My guess, the stress was
too much for him.

Probably had a massive coronary
or a stroke.

Old guy never even made it out of his car.

Temperatures being so low,
his body probably started to freeze

less than an hour after he expired.

How long is it gonna take to defrost him?

Uh, derma, just a few minutes,

but internal organs could
take several hours.

Okay. Tomorrow morning, I'm gonna
go back to Frances Littleton's house,

see if I can find the m*rder w*apon.

If I can place Carlson's prints
on something-- / Case closed.

Remember, uh,
heavy object, odd design.

Thank you, Bug.
That really narrows it down.

Just trying to help.

Doctor Maguire?

My secretary didn't tell me
anyone was still here.

Just going through some
of Steven's records.

Hope you don't mind my burning
the midnight oil.

Well, it has been an exceptionally
long day, but--

Everyone tells me Steven's grades
were in trouble, but according to this,

he recently made some significant
improvements.

From a D to a B in several subjects.
Fast, too.

I was uh, unaware
he'd been working so hard.

It seems a little odd, doesn't it,

given everything we're
learning about him?

Sorry, excuse me. Maguire.

Doctor Maguire?

It's me, Andrea. Steven's girlfriend.

I'm sorry.

What can I do for you?

There's something I haven't told you.

This didn't have anything
to do with dr*gs.

Tell me more. What do you mean?

I want everyone to know the truth.

Go to my locker.

Make sure Vasco doesn't see you.

It's number three forty-one.

The combination's the same as
my phone number on your phone.

When's the last time
you read "Human Anatomy"?

It's been a while.

Read it cover to cover.

Everything okay?

Work.

Listen, if it's alright with you, I'd uh,
I'd like to keep going here for a while.

Thank you.

- Goodnight, Doctor.
- Goodnight.

Jordan, it's me.

I'm still looking around, and get this.

Steven and Vasco just became
exponentially more complicated.

Guess who else is more likely
to do five to ten?

Vasco has a family.

He's been married for twenty years.

Let's not forget his wife's
on the school board.

Look, I'm not here to pass judgment
on some guy's infidelity.

Connect it to Steven Hayes.

Vasco ordered the last minute
drug bust, right?

Yeah, he called us the night before
and uh, he insisted on it.

Everyone, including your informant,
says Steven was clean,

yet he was targeted for the bust
as a potential dealer.

Why?

Because Steven had something
on the Principal.

Knowledge of an affair Vasco
needed to keep quiet.

Okay, so Vasco used the drug bust
to cover up his after school fling,

but if Steven was the innocent
in all of this,

how'd the dr*gs get in his system?

There's still something Steven Hayes
we don't know about yet.

If we can just find all the pieces,
maybe we can put the puzzle together.

This photo of Andrea and Steven,
I wonder if this can tell us anything.

Alright. So, how big do you like it?

Well, I meant the photograph,
of course.

Just keep enlarging it
`til I tell you when to stop.

Fine, if we must be vague about it,
let's try twenty times.

Let's go bigger.

What are we looking for, Doctor?

Yes, Doctor, do tell.

Something I noticed around his neck.

It's a medallion.

Yeah, computer, enhance graphic
times five, isolate,

focus.

Unless Saint Francis looks
like a serpent,

I'd say that's a medical alert pendant.

Yeah, but there's no physical
impairment listed in his file.

Yeah, there was nothing on him
when he d*ed.

So why would young Mister Hayes
wear a caduceus?

For a problem no one's talking
about anymore?

Maybe something we
weren't supposed to dig up.

What do you think Mrs. Littleton
baked this morning?

I'm thinking a nice Irish soda bread
or some hot steaming popovers.

Mmm, take a deep breath.

If you close your eyes,
you can almost smell them.

Oh! Ooh.

How does a guy decompose overnight?

Is it the thermal blanket?

This is impossible.
He just d*ed yesterday.

Ugh.

I'm stunned Mister Carlson
could have done such a thing.

He's always been such a sweet,
generous soul.

People are tough to predict,
Mrs. Littleton.

Desperation can affect us
in unfortunate ways.

Oh, ain't it the truth.

If it hadn't been for that IRS man,

he probably would have lived
quietly for a few more years.

Mmm, yes, ma'am, but you can
hardly blame the poor auditor.

He was merely doing his job.

People should be left alone
in their twilight years

to enjoy the time that they have left.

Amen to that.

So what brings you back here, Detective?

First of all, your baking.

Mmm.

Second, I was hoping to find
a m*rder w*apon, close this case out.

Mister Carlson could have hit that man
over the head with almost anything.

True.

But I'd like to find something
that retains prints easily.

Some sort of household item,

metal or ceramic.

If I can lift a print,

I can verify the assailant.

That's what I was afraid of.

Mrs. Littleton, I have to tell you.
Those scones rock.

Uh--

Mrs. Littleton, uh, you uh--

I have to ask you, do you uh, wash--
Uh, do you um,

wash this stove regularly?
Do you clean it regularly?

I do.

And no one in the house is allowed
in the kitchen except for me.

I'm sorry to hear that, because uh, I- I um,

I couldn't help but notice about the--
Your burners match the uh--

Too much tea, dear?

Based on the rate of decomp
and the status of the remaining tissue,

I put time of death at more
than a year and a half ago.

Doesn't really square with
Mrs. Littleton's account, does it?

Not hardly.

This poor guy's been in deep freeze
for at least eighteen months.

Ooh, Mister Carlson's pension checks
were being mailed

to the boarding house all this time.

Last one was cashed ten days ago.

I doubt he was up for a visit to the ATM.

According to Social Security,
it was cosigned by Frances Littleton.

Can you do a search on other accounts
where Mrs. Littleton cosigned?

Three other boarders were having
their government-issued

checks sent to Frances's place.

I don't like where this is headed.

Mister Hayes,
I know how difficult this can be.

How could you possibly know?

The lies, the accusations.

Would you just let me have my boy back
so I can bury him in peace?

I'm sorry, but I can't do that yet.

We need to discuss a few things.

Dragging his reputation
through the dirt wasn't enough?

You still want some more?

When Steven was younger,
he wore a medic alert medallion.

What was it for?

Don't know what you're talkin' about.

Was something deleted from
his medical records, Mister Hayes?

What was so damn important that
the world couldn't know your son was ill?

Steven was epileptic.

Since he was a kid, all he
wanted to do was play football.

Back then, the medications
were less sophisticated.

The disease was scary.

No one wanted to let him play.

As Steven got older, he learned
how to control his seizures,

how to hide them.

After my wife passed, I didn't want to keep
our son from doing what he loved.

So you made believe it didn't exist.

Only to the schools he attended.
Steven still saw doctors.

He- he still took his medication.

There was no paper trail.

Paid off a doctor friend of mine
to fill out his yearly sports physical.

Nothing was written down that
could affect his playing status.

I thought I- I- I was doing the right thing.

What drug was he taking, Mister Hayes?

Something new, a anti-convulsive.

He'd been on it for a few months.

That's what looked like barbiturates
in his system.

Uh, the seizure meds have
the same chemical breakdown.

The meds could have triggered
the pancreatitis.

Steven's internal organs were swollen
and bleeding.

It was probably already happening
when he was hit by the police officer.

Are you saying his meds
are what k*lled him?

This whole phony drug charge
had nothing to do with it?

No, we're not saying
that at all, Mister Hayes,

but it's starting to look like there were
a lot of other contributing factors

to your son's death,

the bad reaction to his meds
just being one of them.

Oh my God.

I'd just wanted my son to be happy.

That's all. You know?

What did you do to me?

Just slipped you some sleeping pills
that were lying around.

They won't k*ll you.

I have to take care of that myself.

Not a good idea, Mrs. Littleton.

Please, dear. Call me Frances.

And don't take it personally.

It's just bad timing on your part.

Frances, don't be stupid.

That's what the IRS man said.

If he hadn't stumbled out into the street,

he could have kept Victor
and the others company.

Others?

I didn't k*ll any of those people, you know.
They all just d*ed.

I didn't report their deaths.
Why should I?

What was the government going
to do with all that extra money anyway?

Who the hell is that?

Don't go away.

I'll be right back.

I'm coming, damn it.

Hold your horses!

Hello, you two.
What a surprise.

What brings you here on
such a chilly morning?

We were looking for Detective Hoyt.

Detective Hoyt?

I haven't seen him today.

That's funny,
because that's his car right there.

I'll tell him that you're looking for him
if I see him.

You don't mind if we come in, do you?

Ah, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

Don't drink that.
Don't drink that. Don't.

This tea party's over.

She did it. She did it.

She did it with this.

Oh, uh, that's right, big mouth.

Blame it on the old lady.

It's not enough that I have
to take it up the wazoo

from the HMO and the Social Security,

and now the cops, too.

Where's the justice?

I was just trying to make a living.

I mean, come on,

they were dead for God's sake.

So the dr*gs in his system weren't
narcotics, they were prescription?

Link the six grams of cr*ck we
found in the kid's locker to Vasco.

Your own in-house informant
just called and told me a dealer selling

that specific grade of cr*ck cocaine works
out of Sommerville.

Guess who lives with his wife and
two daughters in that very neighborhood.

Mister Principal?

I'm shocked. / Has anyone tried to lift a
print off the baggie that was confiscated?

Well, we didn't have any reason to.

Well, you have one now.

Excuse me, but I'm talking
to someone here.

Call can wait.

I'll get back to you.

Mister Vasco, we've got some questions

in regards to your relationship
with Steven Hayes.

My relationship?

What are you talking about?

- Who are you?
- Garret Macy, Chief M.E.

We thought you should see these.

Steven Hayes never used,

but you planted those dr*gs in his
locker just to decimate his credibility.

You were having an affair
and Steven knew about it.

He was gonna ruin my life.

So instead you ruined his.

Your impromptu bust aided in his death.

I'm not responsible for that boy's death.

The police department is at fault.

Hey, we acted on your information.

I didn't k*ll anybody.

Actually, you did.

Steven was epileptic.

He was on a new medication
that caused internal bleeding.

He'd already sustained injuries
from a football game,

and your raid was the final blow.

Cops punched him once in the abdomen,

rupturing his pancreas and causing
a severe painful hemorrhage.

I didn't know Steven was ill.

It seems withholding that information
from his records puts his father at fault.

The man's son is dead.

Agree with what he did or not,
he's gotta live with that the rest of his life.

Just a suggestion,

framing Steven and trying to cover up
an innocent kid's death

might not sit well with the Board.

You might want to consider resigning.

- Oh, Devan, hey.
- Hi.

I just wanted to say
that you did some really great work.

Oh, thanks. I think.

What's wrong?
Case closed, right?

Yeah, I just kinda wanted
to catch a bad guy.

Be happy we figured out
what really happened.

I made so many mistakes.

I mean, I specifically remember saying

this was an open and shut case
of police brutality.

You told me not to jump to conclusions,
and what did I do?

Great jumping, really.

- Sorry.
- No, don't b*at yourself up.

Man, going back to that high school
really brought back some memories.

I mean, it actually kind of surprised
me how little things have changed.

All those different cliques.

Yeah. Still think we would
have hated each other?

Oh, definitely.

Yeah, but, you know,
different strokes, right?

Absolutely.

Oh, uh, J- Jordan, did you want
to maybe grab some dinner?

- No, not really.
- Me, neither.

Great. Well, see you tomorrow then.

Alright, goodnight.