05x06 - Total Recall

[bunniefuu]

Feist "Secret Heart"
This very secret.

That you're trying to conceal

Is the very same one

That you're dying to reveal

Come on, Cavanaugh, wake up.

It'd be easier if you didn't
keep me up till : .

Oh!

Is that coffee?

Eh, I woke up early.
Thought you could use it.

Well, I know you drink the stuff.

No one could be that
Type A without it.

No, that is really nice.
I...

I'm just not...

I'm not used to people
doing things for me.

Well, maybe you should think
about getting used to it.

Maybe I am.

Hello?

I'm away.

Oh, sure.

Guy gets a prestige job
at a great paper,

and suddenly he's too good
for morning sex.

A hiker stumbled onto a skull

and some remains out
at Stony Brook reservation.

What's couple more hours?

Couple of hours?

Yeah.

You sure know
how to pressure a guy.

minutes.

Oh! .

.

Deal.

This one of those shrink things?

You don't talk until I do?

You were telling me
about your brother.

Yes, he's my brother.

He lives in Wisconsin.

He's a bit troubled
from what I understand.

So maybe you feel
responsible for that,

seeing as you raised him.

That's when you got out of
psych school, two years ago?

Look, Woody, you stood
right in that doorway and

you said you wanted to talk.

But if you're not gonna
look at some of this stuff

if you're not gonna dig
a little bit deeper,

you're wasting both our time.

Hold on a sec.

This is Hoyt.

I'm on my way.

I gotta go.

Yeah, I'm shocked.

Thank you.
This was helpful.

Robert Stockton.

years old.
Went missing about years ago.

A teacher.
Was just about to get married.

I rememebr, the press made
a big deal out of it.

Thought it was
a groom-on-the-run thing.

Some hiker spotted his skull
in the dirt earlier this morning.

Found his I.D. while they were
waiting for the rangers.

Who called the press?

Everybody's a media whore.

What do you got?

Phones, clothes, part of a wallet.

The weird thing is,
he wasn't wearing his clothes.

They were just tossed
in a hole over there.

Multiple s*ab wounds
on the skin.

That's skin?

Detective.

I think we found something here.

Great work, guys.
Thanks.

Thanks for the ride.

Ah, at your service.

See ya.

What's up?

Probable m*rder w*apon.

Dr. Macy.

Dr. Macy, can you
give us a statement?

I better get this over with.

Hey, doc, do me a favor.

Give them the cause of death, but
hold back on the details of the Kn*fe.

Any scoop for
a desperate working hack?

What the hell?

One working hack to another,

guy was stabbed with an ice pick.

Excuse me.

Um...

are you Detective Hoyt?

Yeah.

They said that
you're in charge of...

the man they found,

the one in the woods.

What about him?

He was my teacher.

Mr. Stockton.

I didn't remember, and
I saw him on the news.

You didn't remember
he was your teacher?

No, I didn't remember
until they found him.

I don't understand.

Do you know something
about this m*rder?

Do you know who k*lled him?

I did.

I don't know why I did it.

He was my friend.

I thought you said
he was your teacher.

He was my soccer coach.

He helped me in school.

I was failing before,
and he tutored me.

And I stabbed him.

We... we were
in the first place that year.

He was always the one
who told me to try out.

He's the reason I played.

You realize you would have been
years old when this happened?

I know, I know this sound crazy,
but I know I k*lled him.

Tell me what else you remember.

That's all I can remember.

Look, Brian,

this sort of thing
happens all the time.

People see something
on the news,

they get an idea in their head.

Now, I don't know if you
actually think you did this

or you just need a little
attention or what.

Either way,

you gotta go
get yourself some help.

You watching me now?

Paranoid?

I was observing the suspect.

I've been assigned.

He didn't k*ll anyone.

How do you know?

I'm a detective.
That's how I know.

Well, I think there might be
something to it.

Based on what, your vast
two-year experience?

Instinct.

And I was a detective long
before I was a psychologist.

It maybe a repressed memory to
avoid a traumatic event or abuse.

Or maybe he's just crazy.

Let me talk to him.

We're not working on
a thesis paper here.

This is a real case
with a real k*ller

who still happens to be out
there somewhere, by the way.

You are so sure
he didn't do this.

Why?

One,

Stockton was six foot
and pounds.

This kid was years old
at the time.

Two, he hasn't mentioned anything

that hasn't already been
said in the news today.

And three...

What?

Why am I explaining
myself to you?

You're funny.

Um, you know what?
Forget it.

I'll just get the captain's
permission to question him.

[font color=D EFB ]Doyle Apartment

Holy Tasmanian terror.

Ben and Eleanor Doyle.

There's been a rash of
home invasions in the neighborhood,

but nothing like this.

So why is there
no detective here?

Precinct's swamped.

Someone's on their way.

They told me to deal with it.

There's a torn screen
in the bedroom upstairs.

That's how the K*llers got in?

Looks that way.

These people have a kid?

Not that I know of.

There's no children's bedroom
in this place.

Wonder who this is, then.

Oh, hey, Nige, look at this.

They look so happy.

She yanked
somebody's hair out.

It's odd.

The artwork's
hardly been touched.

Well, maybe the k*ller
was after money.

Philistine.

This is an important collection.

Yesterday was their anniversary.

They were married years.

"To my darling Eleanor."

Hey.

Doesn't anybody knock
around here anymore?

Sorry.

The Kn*fe that they found,

it matches the incisions
on the epidermis,

and there was something else
that I wanted to show you.

Anything to tie that kid
Woody questioned to the Kn*fe?

Um, nothing yet.

You know, a guy could disappear
off the face of the earth

and nobody'd bat an eye.

I thought you said they made
a big fuss, looked for him.

Oh, yeah,
for all of about a week.

They never would have
pursued the thing

if it hadn't been
such a good story.

"Bride jilted by
everybody's all-American."

- What's eating you, Doctor?
- We're all dispensable, Bug.

Dispensable, disposable
and expendable.

Well, I'm sure his fiancee
didn't feel that way.

Ten to one,
she's living in Jersey,

unhappily married
to somebody else.

Now what'd
you wanna show me?

Take a look.

Quite a few of these white
cloth fibers on his clothing.

A different kind of weave
than anything else he was wearing.

And the GCMS showed up some kind
of soap residue on his upper torso.

Why would he have soap on him
if he was k*lled in the woods?

Maybe he wasn't k*lled
in the woods.

All this tissue under
the nails should be enough

to convict the bastard
when we find him.

Those pictures you saw,

the Doyles with the little girl,

she was their daughter.

And she d*ed of leukemia
year ago, six years old.

Imagine going through something
like that together.

Get through that and
you can get through anything.

God, one minute you're
eating Mu Shu pork,

spending the week in bed,
and the next...

- Hey.
- Hey.

What are you doing here?

I wanted to see you.

Oh.

By the way, what's with
your detective friend?

He tried to screw me
on a story this morning.

Good thing I'm a fact checker.

Yeah, just ignore him.
He's got issues.

Hmm.

Uh, so... uh...

I wanted to
ask you something.

Why are you whispering?

Well, I'm not sure
if we're public.

You can use your normal voice
if you want.

Uh, a mate of mine

offered me this cottage on
Martha's Vineyard for the weekend.

We could leave
right after work tomorrow.

Oh... the weekend?

I get it.
I'm crowding you.

Moving too fast, eh?

No.

No, it sounds good.

You know, a change of scenery.

I thought we could pick up take-out
on the way in from the ferry.

There's a little
Chinese place nearby.

Does a great Mu Shu Pork.

What?

Uh, Dr. Cavanaugh?

Yes. Can I help you?

Uh... Jeffery Brandau.
I'm an ADA.

It's a little early for the DA's office
to be involved, isn't it?

I need to know which
one of them d*ed first.

What difference does it make?

We need to find the k*ller.

Oh, uh...

they k*lled each other.

Are you crazy?
Did you see their apartment?

Let me guess.
Looked like a hurricane hit it?

And someone broke through
a screen to get in.

We're talking about a savage.

A Charles Manson.

And he's out there somewhere!

Uh, Ben and Eleanor Doyle practically
had the DA's office on retainer.

We prosecuted them a dozen times
for domestic abuse.

Her, then him.

Then her.

On and on.

You've got the wrong people.

No, they filed for divorce
six times in the last years.

You could paper a room
with all the restraining orders.

They went before a judge
more often than Motley Crue.

That's a little...

Look, you can waste your time
looking for a k*ller if you want.

I just need to know
which one d*ed first.

Jordan.

The hairs that were clutched
in Mrs. Doyle's hand...

they're his.

You can see why it's hard for Detective
Hoyt to believe that you did this.

You were so young.

I know.

I know it doesn't sound right.
But I did it.

I know.

Well, why do you know for sure?

I told them he didn't run away.
*Robert Stockton's Fiancee

I kept insisting,
but no one would listen.

Did Robert have any enemies?

Anyone that might
want to hurt him?

He wasn't that kind of man.

Anything you can think of?
Anything that might...

I've had years to think.

Parts of me actually
hoped he was dead.

So I wouldn't have to wonder
if he'd left me.

Ten years of
waiting and wondering.

Not letting myself grieve.

The strangest thing...

Now that I can,
I just... feel numb.

Well...

thank you very much for

taking time away from
your family and coming in.

I don't have a family, Detective.

I never got married.

I'm gonna find out
who did this.

I promise.

Thanks.

Hey, look, um...

I think Brian Heeley
is telling the truth.

I think he k*lled Stockton.

Of course you do.
It validates your existence.

All right, look,

my vast two year's
experience aside,

he's clearly been traumatized.

Okay,

let's just say he did,
which I don't buy for a second.

It'll never hold up in court.

Then let me take him
to the crime scene.

If he rememebrs something,

it may lead to some evidence.

And that's what
you're looking for, right?

If there's one thing
I'm pretty sure of, is that...

I'm not gonna find it watching
you psychoanalyze anyone.

Wow.

Now I get it.

This isn't about evidence.

This is about you being right
and me being wrong.

What?

It's an hour of your time, Hoyt.

That's all it'll take.

It was cold
the day he disappeared.

Do you remember that, Brian?

No.

Was it daytime
when you were here?

I... I don't know.
I just...

I just know that I k*lled him.

Okay.
Did you go to school that day?

Did he come to your house?

I don't know!

I don't remember.

How about this?

- You remember this?
- Detective!

This is where we found him.

Buried in the hole.

Somebody k*lled this guy.

That's enough, Hoyt!

How many times
did you s*ab him?

Did you walk up here that day?

Did he drive you?

I said enough!

This is a joke.
You don't know anything.

I k*lled him!

I know I k*lled him!

Brian, it's okay. Okay?

These things, they take time.

Speaking of which,
he's wasting mine.

Brian, what is it?

I remember the Kn*fe.

It was a long, pearl handle.

And a gold medallion.

It was my grandfather's.

Mrs. Heeley,

we're trying to
figure out what happened.

Brian remembers certain
details of the crime.

Do you recognize this Kn*fe?

My father gave it
to Brian as a gift.

Mom, you're not supposed
to get so excited.

She has diabetes, heart trouble.

Brain was very upset when
Mr. Stockton went missing.

They were...

They were very close.

He was never
very good in school.

Never... involved
in class activities.

And then...

Mr. Stockton came along.

Remember?

Mama.
We should take a break.

That okay?

Yes.

This must be
very difficult for you.

I'm not saying he did it.

I... I don't think he did it.

I understand.

He was doing
so great for a while.

And then his grades fell.

And he started
getting into fights.

I don't know.

Something happened.

Brian!

You okay?

Why'd you do this, buddy?

You didn't k*ll anyone.

I know you didn't.

Don't worry.

It's gonna be okay.

You have to rub it in my face?
You were right, I was wrong.

It's not about
right and wrong.

A troubled kid,

a teacher
who takes an interest.

All of a sudden, things change.

What's that sound like to you?

You think Stockton
was abusing him?

It would give him
a motive for m*rder.

Protecting himself
against a sexual predator.

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
wait a minute.

You hear teacher/student,
this is the first place you go?

His symptoms are classic.

The kid has clearly
blocked something out.

Let's just slow down
a little here, okay?

The guy is dead.

He has a family who wants to
know what happened to him.

Just because you flipped through
a couple of issues of Psychology Today...

You know what, Woody?
You are being naive.

And I'm not saying
it didn't happen.

But how about we not
destroy the guy's reputation

without a shred of proof?

Excuse me.

This is Hoyt.

Yeah.

Okay, I'm on my way.

That was the morgue.
They found a clue.

A real clue.
Don't wait by the phone.

Maybe Brian Heeley doesn't remember
the crime scene because that wasn't it.

He had soap on the entire
upper half of his body.

From what?

When do you have soap
on your body?

Am I alone,
or am I with somebody?

The shower.

Most major manufacturers
distribute soap like this.

Usaully contains an antibacterial.

But this stuff doesn't.

Meaning what?

It's some kind of discount brand
made by a small company

didn't want to pay
for the trademark.

They were distributing to
limited areas years ago.

Usaully to large warehouse stores.

But they also shipped directly
to certain purchasers.

One of them being the Boston
Unified School District.

Yeah?

Which includes
John Adams Middle School,

where Brian Heeley went.

Which just happenes to be
half a mile from where

Stockton's body was buried.

Okay, liver temp, lividity,

and eye potassium levels indicate...

What are you doing?

Ah, there's no hemorrhaging
at the point of entry here.

So this wound is not
the cause of death.

Really?

Yeah.

So it was just shoved into
her heart after she d*ed?

Mmm-hmm.

Ugly.

Yeah, see if this matches the one
on her husband's head.

Uh, by the by,

the scrapings we took...

her tissue under his nails.

His under hers.

So obviously they were
fighting with each other.

Or they were protecting
each other from someone else.

Hmm, let me think.
How is that gonna work?

So they're clawing
at each other

while someone else
is attacking them?

I don't know enough...

Why are you so reluctant to believe
these two k*lled each other?

You've seen this
times, Jordan.

It's a fact, marriage is the most
common risk factor in m*rder.

Does that thing match the wound
on her husband's head?

Mmm-hmm.

Well, did you find anything
in the evidence

that matches the wound
on her head?

No, but CSU only boxes
the obvious stuff.

Why, you think the w*apon
might be back there?

Maybe.

Are you comming?

"To my darling Eleanor,

my love, my streangth,
my inspiration,

I wouldn't trade our
years for anything."

Whatever this w*apon was,

it's gotta
be about six inches across,

heavy, with a sharp corner
on it someplace.

I'm not finding it anywhere.

Okay, well, the only explanation
for that is

the k*ller took it with him.

Why would he take
whatever it is

and leave the sculpture behind?

Just keep looking.

Oh, Brandau!

So glad to see you here.

I went by the morgue,
and they said you were here.

Correct me if I'm wrong,

but don't you check the bodies
to see which one d*ed first?

Take a look around.

You still think
they k*lled each other?

Uh, yes, I do.

The k*ller broke in upstairs.

He att*cked the Doyles as
they were coming down here.

Do you see the blood
on the stairs?

This was nothing new
for these two.

You saw the police reports.

Is there anything I can do
to get you off this theory?

Does this look like
it was written by a man

who was about to k*ll
his wife later that night?

And did you know this couple
lost a child together?

And still survived it.

If they k*lled each other,

why is the DA's office
interested in this at all?

Yeah, what's the hurry?

You know, I could stall
time of death for months.

Mmm-hmm.

All right, all right, all right!

We've got a pool.

A what?

Which one would actually k*ll
the other one first, when, how.

You've got money on this?

Well, I... yes.

What's your money on?

This month. This year.

Blunt force trauma.

Ohh, three out of four.

Husband or wife?

He kills her?

Can I get in on this?

No!

Shut up!
God, you are a ghoul!

Yeah, a ghoul who will be
$ , richer if she d*ed first.

First...

*John Adams Middle School

Says here we're still using
that same brand of cleanser.

In here, the cafeteria, lavatory.

What exactly is it you gentlemen
are looking for?

A crime scene.

Well, this used to be the shower.

Used to be?

Whole room was redone in ' .

A year after Stockton disappeared.

There's no way we're gonna
find anything here.

Old tile's still here.

You have a sledgehammer?

Is that...

It's blood spatter.

Went all the way to the ceiling.

Okay.

So we're saying that the kid

somehow k*lled him
here in the shower.

Still doesn't make any sense.

How does somebody his size
move a -pound body

all the way out to the woods?

All right, here it is.

The grid search turned up
an old laundry bin stuck in the mud

about feet from where
Stockton was buried.

And that towels
in the locker-room

look like they match the fibers
I found on Stockton's clothing.

Must have used them
to cover the body,

then grabbed his clothes from
the locker-room

and buried them with him.

They probably picked up
the service road

right behind
the school parking lot,

put the bin on a dolly,

and then ditched it when they
were done burying the body.

Big job for a -year-old.

Yeah, and how come
nobody noticed him?

Maybe it was dark.

Hmm.

Mrs. Heeley.

Is something wrong?

I'm here to confess to
the m*rder of Robert Stockton.

Stockton was abusing my kid.

Sexually... abusing my son.

You have a proof of that?

Did Brian tell you that?

Didn't need any proof.

I knew my boy.

So I called Stockton up,

and I made an appointment
to see him.

The afternoon he disappeared.

That's right.

And I k*lled him.

Where?

I'm not saying anything more
till I speak to a lawyer.

Mrs. Heeley, I get it.

You're trying to save your son.

But if you can't tell me

something to back up
your confession,

the DA is going to laugh me
out of her office.

And then,

she's going to focus on Brian.

He was years old.

The jury's gonna have a hard time
believing he k*lled a grown man.

You here to tell me
you were right again?

Mmm-mmm.
There's nothing to gloat about.

So you don't believe her?

Like I said, it's a mother
protecting her son.

She figures she can confuse a jury
with more than one confession.

Or,

she k*lled Stockton,
and Brian was there.

This is Hoyt.

We've got Stockton's blood
from the laundry bin,

and we've got someone else's
DNA on two hairs we found.

Whose?

It's mitochondrial.

English, please.

It's passed down
from mother to child.

So is it Lorraines' hair or Brian's?

That's the problem.
It could be either.

Don't be upset.

I'm just reporting what I found.

Microscopic bits of rust
on the ends of the severed mesh.

Then the tear was made
at least a couple of weeks ago?

Yeah, nothing to do
with the deaths.

They must have let the k*ller in.

Jordan...

There's no evidence
anybody else was there.

These two have a history
of pounding on one another.

This isn't like you!

You don't ride hunches.
You go with the evidence.

There's more evidence than
glass shards and window screens.

You saw it. The flowers,
the photos, the love letters.

The prosecutions, the divorces,
the restraining orders!

Look,

I know why you don't
want this to be true.

What are you talking about?

Your Aussie friend.

I think...

I think they really did
k*ll each other.

Somewhere inside, I knew...

That's how things always go.

I don't why I let myself...

I guess I though that if...
it wasn't true,

then that meant that things didn't
always have to turn to crap.

This is just the extreme.

Love turns to hate.

Why is that?

We still need to, uh, get the...

time of death for the DA's office.

Could you please do that?

Yeah. Sure.

Bug just did an evaluation
of the mummified epidermis.

Given the distance and the direction
of the spatter to the ceiling,

there is only one way that
the Kn*fe could have entered the body.

In a downward motion.

I've got Brian Heeley's
medical records right here.

Considering his height and weight
at the time of the m*rder...

And the arterial trajectory
that we're looking at,

I think we can rule out
Brian as the m*rder*r.

Which leaves his mother.

Hey, there.

Hey.

How about we catch
the : ferry, huh?

Uh, I don't think I can.

No worries.

There's another one at : .

I mean, I... I don't think
I can go.

I have to work.

Oh. / Well, it's this case
that I'm working on.

The DA's office has been pressuring
me to wrap it up fast.

You're not a very
good liar, Cavanaugh.

No, honestly.

I'm a big boy.

You don't wanna do this,
just say so.

I have to work.

You all of people
should understand that.

Yeah, except
I handed off my story,

'cause I thought we were...

A little early in the relationship
to be sabotaging yourself, isn't it?

Oh, um, Ms. Lebowski.

Jeffrey!

So nice to see you.

Well, I was hopong
you could help me, actually.

- Oh.
- Dr. Cavanaugh's working on a case.

Um, it's a couple that d*ed,
the D...

- The Doyles?
- Yeah, that's it.

Well, my assistant took a message

that the time of death
has been established,

and I was hoping that you could
get that information for me.

Let me see if
I can find Dr. Cavanaugh.

Well, actually, um...

I was hoping to not have to
deal with Dr. Cavanaugh again.

She's a little, uh...

- you know...
- Good at her hob?

Well, I was gonna say
'frightening', actually.

I'm gonna assume that
you're not talking about me.

Um...

Did you leave a message
for Jeffrey about the Doyles?

I did.

They didn't k*ll each other.

I knew it.

You put him up to this,
didn't you?

No one put me up to anything.

Their brains.

As you can see,

they're not swollen.

Ring fractures at the bases
of their skulls.

Just above the first
spine bone of the atlas.

Now blunt force trauma
caused the atlas

to push in on their brain stems,

causing instant cardiac arrest.

So their brains didn't
have time to swell.

They both d*ed instantly.

Yeah, but who d*ed first?

These bodies are not
in proximity to one another.

And they d*ed instantly.

Which means he wasn't alive
to hit her and vice-versa.

But no one else was there?

Correct.

So what happened?

You know, maybe we've had
this backwards all along.

The fight didn't start upstairs.
It started down here.

You are Ben.

Okay...

You stay up here.

And you, being Eleanor...

Stay right about there.

Okay, so, uh, the fight
begins downstairs.

Heated words, perhaps
an accusation of infidelity.

Uh, knowing these two, he may have
just forgotten to buy kitty litter.

Idiot! I can't believe you forgot
to pick up the damn cat litter!

Oh, like I live to remember
your disgusting cat!

Here, drunk, why don't
you have a nightcap?

Why do you think I drink,
you son of a...

Ahh, ahh.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Come on, come on.
Not the Bartlett.

Come on.

Piece of...

Why don't you go get yourself
one more dose of Botox?

I told you never to say...

Basket?

She shoves him
in the bookcase.

It begins to fall.

He, uh, stumbles.

Reaching out,
taking her with him.

Nah, this wouldn't have caused
identical ring fractures.

Yeah, and their bodies
didn't land there.

She pushes him
into the bookcase.

Furious, he pushes back.

Over the railing she falls.

Still not right.

She pushes him
into the bookcase.

It starts to fall over.
But he gets out of the way.

He pushes her out of the way,
but then they both go over.

They tried to save each other.

True love after all.

Mrs. Heeley, you can answer
my questions now,

or you can answer the DA's
when she puts you on the stand!

She's given a statement, Detective.

You've got all you're gonna get.

He's giving you
bad advice, Mrs. Heeley.

You can put an end
to this right now by telling...

- Loraine!
- Mrs. Heeley!

Mrs. Heeley!
What's the matter with her?

Can we get some help in here?

Mom!

Should I call an ambulance?

She's diabetic.

I'm a doctor.

Roll her over.

Mom...

It's me.

You okay?

I'm okay.

How long have you
been diabetic, Mrs. Heeley?

Uh, years.

You just rest, okay?

She didn't k*ll him.

How do you know?

That hair we found.
It it was hers,

there would have been evidence of
synthetic insulin in the tox screen.

Wait, I'm not following you.

The hair had mitochondiral DNA.

Comes from the mother,
and it's passed down.

There's only one other
person besides Brian

who could have Lorraine's DNA.

Thanks.

No you know why your witness
doesn't want to remember.

He blocked it out
to protect his big brother.

Even if I throw Craig in the box
and b*at it out of him,

I'm nowhere.

Three confessions?

The DA's gonna laugh me
out of her office.

I'm telling you,
Brian's the key.

Him plus the Kn*fe
plus the hairs.

You gotta get him to remember.

We know for a fact that you did
not k*ll Mr. Stockton, Brian.

But I remembered.

Brian, listen to me.

You think you remember.

But something happened
to your memory.

We need you to help us
figure out the truth.

We believe that you were there,
and you saw what happened.

You blocked it out.

It happens sometimes when
people see painful things.

But I'm gonna try
and help you remember.

I don't think I can.

Well, I think

that you've been afraid that
you would remember k*lling him,

so that's what's kept
you from remembering.

But you didn't k*ll him, Brian.

It's forensically impossible.

You're safe.

You're safe to remember
what really happened.

Okay?

Try and relax.

Mrs. Stockton's office
was in the locker-room.

Do you remember being there?

Yes.

He didn't die in the woods.

That's right.

You were there.

Mr. Stockton was there.

And someone else was there.

It was winter.

So it got dark early.

Mr. Stockton said he wanted
to see me after soccer practice.

I waited until everyone left.

He was in the shower.

Mr. Stockton said
he wanted to talk to me.

- Wait, I wanna talk to you.
- He said he was upset about,

like, my grades and practices
that I'd been missing.

He said he wanted to know
what was wrong.

And that he thought he knew.

- My brother Craig was there.
- Get away from him.

Mr. Stockton was mad at him.

Brain, don't go anywhere.

Ahhh!

Oh, God.

Oh, my God. No.

It was you!

You were the one abusing him!

Detective!

Put him down.

- You sick, sick...
- Put him down!

Stockton suspected, didn't he?

And when you found out that
your mother gonna go talk to him,

you figured that you would
stop him from telling her.

You don't know
anything about me.

You're his older brother.

You were supposed to protect him.
That's what older brothers do.

What... what part of you
is missing

that you could do that,
and then keep doing it?

On top of that,
you were gonna let him

take the fall for m*rder,
weren't you?

Answer me!
You were gonna let him

- take the fall for m*rder!
- Woody!

Go ahead and do it!

Ms. Lebowski.

Uh, Lily.

Lily.

I, uh... wanted to let you know

that the bet was finally
settled and paid in full.

So...

Randy Blanchard won.

He's a court, um,
stenographer, he...

the only employee of
the entire justice system

who wagered that the Doyles
would die accidently.

Well, uh, I should be...

No hurry.
I was just about to, uh,

break for lunch, actually.

Oh, cool. Mmm-mmm.

So...

Do you, uh, bring
your lunch in, or, um...

Uh, sometimes, but not today.

Today I was just
gonna go grab a bite.

You know.

Just by myself.

Really?

Do you ever...

eat... lunch?

Oh, yeah, sure.
Lots of times.

- Oh, well, did you...
- Well, goodbye.

Okay. Well, goodbye.

Detective Hoyt.

You gonna admit it?

Admit what?

That I was right
and you were wrong.

How do you figure?

Well, Brian Heeley
did not k*ll anyone,

and Stockton
was not abuseing him.

It's that important to be right?

I'm just saying.

How about we call
this one a draw?

I'm just saying.

Listen, um...

What we were talking about before,
about my brother and...

whatever.

All the crap that's
happened to me.

It's made me a better cop.

It's not really about
being a better cop.

That same stuff, the stuff you don't
wanna look at and deal with,

it gets in the way
of other things.

Your life, for instance.

Yeah, I...

guess I was just afraid that
it would jinx me

or something... on the job.

By dealing with it.

But I was just thinking that I...

It's a good thought.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Yeah. Good night.

This very secret.

That you're trying to conceal

So, who is this Martha, anyway?

And why did they name
a vineyard after her?

Got me.

Martha Washington?

Martha Stewart?

I thought if maybe
you had some time,

we could try to figure it out.

And if we leave now, we can
actually get there by dinner.

You seem like a nice girl.

Did you know you had
an evil twin

who works in a morgue
around here?

Look, whenever I start
to get close to someone,

this little voice starts screaming
in my head,

"Run! Fast!"

I get crazy, messed up, cuckoo.

And I wish I could promise you
it wasn't gonna happen again,

but... it probably will.

My mom had an expression.

"The weather changes.
Dingoes don't."

And I'm the dingo
in that story?

I never expected this
to go smoothly, Cavanaugh.

I knew you were crazy,
messed up, cuckoo

the moment I laid eyes on you.

Well, I picked you up
some supplies,

hoping you'd say yes.

Oh.

Uh, it's just socks and skivvies.

What if it gets cold?

Secret heart

Why so myterious?

Why so scared?

Why so serious?

Dingo, huh?

Bingo.

Or maybe you're just not man enough
What's wrong?

Let him in on your secret heart