05x05 - m*rder They Wrote

[bunniefuu]

Well, some couple has
a teenager-sized appetite

this morning.
(phone rings)

Oh, I gotta get that.
(indistinct chatter)

All right. I'm sorry we can't
spend the day together,

but Angie's got me going to some
Mystery Writer's Conference.

I totally forgot
about Angie's obsession!

In high school, she was
so into Sherlock Holmes,

she organized
this m*rder mystery party.

Ended up exposing

the English teacher's
kleptomaniacal tendencies.

Oh. Classic Angie.

- Classic why?
- Mrs. Browlings, remember?

The case of the missing cassette
player with your Lauryn Hill tape inside.

Talk about
"k*lling Me Softly."

All right. If you guys break
into song, I walk.

- Oh, don't worry.
- There's no time. The annual

Mystery Writers' Association
Conference starts in half an hour.

Tell me again
why I'm going to this thing?

- Arm candy?
- No, to help

sleuth out who invited me.
And take a video of me

kicking their ass if it turns
out to be a stalker.

Yeah, I'm gonna go
with arm candy.

I have the entire
weekend scheduled

to maximize time and fun.

First, cocktail reception.
Drink drink, mingle mingle.

Cozy up to the host,
my favourite writer,

Ms. Deedee Friars.
Then, a very interesting panel

on modern trends
in investigating.

OK. Just promise me
you'll stay safe?

Dad, will you tell her?

- Our job's not dangerous.
- It's not dangerous.

- Well...
- Thanks, Dad. Super helpful.

And I thought dealing
with teenagers

- was tough. Oh, speaking of.
- Oh, wait, wait!

I have something for you.

(chuckles)
Here you go.

Um.

You've met me, right, Don?

Purple asters! These are
great pollinating flowers.

Bingo! Jules and I are
giving them out all day.

You are saving
the parkette and making

- the neighbourhood beautiful.
- Jada.

You get me.
(chuckles)

Give me.

I will plant yours
at the school.

Who don't you get?

(Angie chuckles)

(playful music)

(vehicles driving)

- I got it.
- Thanks.

- What's with the giant bag?
- What are you talking about?

It's a perfectly
normal-sized purse.

(jazz quartet plays)

(woman laughing)

Hello. I'm Timothy Burns.

Mr. Burns. Here we are. Enjoy.

- Thank you.
- Welcome.

- Thank you.
- Angie Everett. Matt Shade.

Ah.

Your roles for the afternoon's
m*rder mystery.

Thank you, sir.

Ooh! I'm playing

"Tippy Westwood Wagner,

a wealthy socialite."
I like where this is going.

"Recently married
to Roland Wagner,

the mischievous playboy."

Sounds like the kind of guy
who'll sweep you

- off your feet.
- Would you like the sweeping

- to commence now or later?
- You're my mischievous playboy?

I always hoped I'd marry well.

Thanks.

- You know...
- (sighs)

...my dad gave me
my first mystery novel

when I was 15:

m*rder on the Orient Express.

I've been reading them
ever since.

That's Tiffany May!
She writes Victorian thrillers.

Well, she wrote one Victorian thriller.
We're still waiting for the next one.

Maybe she invited you
to this shindig.

Shade, you're supposed
to be helpful.

- You know, you're right.
- It's probably someone

who knows you and knows
your love of mystery novels.

- Well, obviously!
- Perhaps a former... client,

a colleague, a jilted lover,

or perhaps... all three.

Roland, you're rambling, dear.

Well, hey.

- Tex.
- (chuckles)

- What are you doing here?
- Surprising you.

- I hate surprises.
- I know that,

but this one comes
with mystery writers, so...

- I see you brought Shade.
- Ah. No offence taken.

- Heh. Good to see you, man.
- Yeah, you too.

Hey, don't take this the wrong
way, but, uh, why are you here?

Oh, I've been consulting
on a few mystery novels

in the last year or so.
One of the authors I work with

asked me to speak on a panel.

Knowing how much
Angie loves mysteries...

- You had them invite me.
- Well, it's not a big deal.

No, it's a huge deal.

Actually, I mean...
especially after...

I went home to Seattle,
and you never called me back?

Oh, so we're not gonna
tastefully ignore that elephant.

No. No, where's
the fun in that?

Who could use
something a little stronger?

I know I could.

(playful music)

♪ I see you and you see me ♪

♪ Watch you blowin' the lines
when you're makin' a scene ♪

♪ Oh boy, you've got to know ♪

♪ What my head overlooks ♪

♪ The senses will show
to my heart ♪

♪ When it's watching for lies
'cause you can't escape my ♪

♪ Private Eyes
They're watching you ♪

♪ Private Eyes ♪

♪ They're watching you,
watching you, watching you ♪

♪ Watching you ♪

(indistinct chatter)

Oh. You have to meet him.

- Oh. Introduce me?
- Yeah, I will.

- Oh, this way.
- Oh! There's Tex,

my favourite consultant.

- Deedee Friars.
- Hi.

- I'm... so...
- and I can't...

Deedee, let me introduce you
to Angie Everett.

She is a brilliant
private investigator.

Oh.

Sometimes, I can
even form sentences.

(laughing)

- This is Eve Harridan.
- Her debut young adult novel

isn't on the shelves
for another two weeks,

and she's already got a movie
deal and a North American tour.

It's going to be
a bona fide hit.

- Congratulations.
- Thank you. I'm reading

a chapter of my book in front
of a room of basically everyone

- who's ever inspired me.
- Not stressful at all.

If I don't throw up,
it'll be a raging success.

I always try
to sit in the back.

- Excuse me.
- Deedee?

- Mmhm?
- Do you mind

signing something for me?

Absolutely. Aw, this is
one of my faves.

- Heh. Maybe... more than one?
- Oh, sure.

I can do a couple, yeah.
Oh, three.

(Deedee laughs)
Four.

It's like the never-ending...
book bag.

This is like a box set.
You've got all of them.

- (upbeat music)
- (Matt): Hey, guys.

- What's going on?
- Oh, I just got, like,

- five books signed.
- That's Percy Voss.

(Matt): That name
sounds familiar.

He wrote
The Constitutional Crisis,

Washington Warrior,
Delta Protocol.

- Oh, Delta Protocol.
- I loved that movie.

- Delta Protocol 2, not so much.
- Oh, I couldn't agree more!

3 and 4 are
k*ller, though, right?

- 3 and 4 were unbelievable!
- I'll have you know,

fanboys, that all
of those movies

are based on Percy's novels,
and that?

That is his wife, Helen Voss,

the true crime writer
of our time.

Yeah, she's the one
that helped put away

- that serial k*ller. Who was it?
- The Seattle Strangler.

Trapped him six months ago,
and he's not the first k*ller

- she helped put behind bars.
- Writing is a...

tactile experience,
the weight of the typewriter,

the bounce of the keys,
the swoosh of the slide.

It's how my characters
speak through me.

Although, of course,
if I had my wife's talent,

I'd only need a scrap of paper.

- Honey, you're embarrassing me.
- Now, as for the plot,

- I like to write...
- Oh, please.

- So pretentious.
- He's a genius.

(indistinct chatter)
(camera clicking)

- Excuse me, Angie?
- I'm not taking photos.

- Eve, is everything OK?
- If you really are a brilliant

private investigator...
I think I need your help.

(mysterious music)

(dramatic sound indication)
(door shuts)

I came into my room
and found this.

"Your rise is over. There's
only room for one at the top."

Wow. Talk about
a cliff hanger.

Can you think of anyone
that would want to thr*aten you

in such a... unique way?

- Only one?
- Everyone here hates me.

- Everyone?
- I know it sounds dramatic,

but it's true. My book is
getting a lot of buzz.

I mean, a movie deal is
like the holy grail for authors,

and nobody here thinks
I deserve it.

- And why the axe?
- My book is about a woman

who solves mysteries
in a dystopian world.

- Her primary w*apon is an axe.
- So this is a message

from someone who read it, but...
Deedee said it wasn't out yet.

The only eyes on it have been
industry insiders.

- Are any of them here?
- I sent it to Helen Voss.

But she writes
true crime, not YA.

Well, I was her assistant
for three years.

I was hoping she'd write
a blurb for the back cover.

- And?
- She wouldn't do it.

I was mortified.
I should've known.

- And why is that?
- Well, she blew her lid when I

quit working for her. She called
me selfish and ungrateful.

Sounds like someone has
an axe to grind.

I promise you, we'll get
to the bottom of this.

♪

(door opens)

- I'm gonna call Zoe.
- All right.

- Meet you at the bar?
- Sure.

- OK.
- (phone rings)

(phone beeps)

(phone rings)

(phone beeps)

Angie! Heh. It's Saturday.
You gave me the day off.

I was just coming in to grab
that bag of chips you never eat.

- Lucky me.
- I'm practically out the door.

- Oh, come on, Zoe.
- We need your help.

You can have
Monday and Tuesday off.

And... lunch is on me.

What do you need?

Whisky neat.

(indistinct chatter)
(soft piano music plays)

(sighs)

Thanks.

I'll take one of those.

So why does Angie have
her work face on?

- That's a funny story.
- We've been here all of, what,

45 minutes,
and already we have a case.

How is that funny?

Well, you'd think
they'd hire you,

seeing as they've known you
longer than an hour.

I mean, it's not ha-ha funny,
but... it does make me chuckle.

Well, they're probably
just trying to give me a break,

since they're constantly
calling me to consult.

- Mmhm.
- I can't tell you how many

bestsellers I've
worked on... four.

So you really came
all this way just to network?

You sure it doesn't have
something to do

- with a mystery-obsessed PI?
- How are Don and Jules?

(Matt chuckles)

(indistinct chatter)

(tense music)

- Helen's over there.
- We need to talk to her.

If she's pissed
at Eve for quitting,

then maybe she wants to rattle
her before her big reading.

Plus, she's one of only a few
people who know about the axe.

- Yeah. Sorry, Tex.
- Duty calls. Catch you later?

So... Tex.

- What?
- I know,

- it's none of my business.
- No, there is no business.

Oh, I don't know
if Tex sees it the same way.

You weren't gone five minutes
before he was asking about you.

- He's an investigator.
- He's interested in the cases

of... you know, investigators.

Why? What'd he say?
Oh, there she is.

Follow my lead.
(classical music plays)

Ahem.

Apparently... Eve Harridan's
novel isn't just

a smart, edgy Hunger Games.
It's a modern treatise

on how Gen Z's contribution
to future society will outweigh

- any other generation.
- Heh.

Sorry. I don't mean
to eavesdrop. Little advice?

Take all press releases
with a grain of salt.

- That doesn't sound good.
- I've read the book.

- It's feminist dystopian drivel.
- Wow, that's a harsh review.

Honesty isn't cruel.

Something that's hard to teach
young grasshoppers

whose skin is
as thin as their talent.

- Huh. She worked for you?
- Heh. You give an up and comer

a break, and they treat
your office and your resources

like their own.
You're gonna do that,

at least come up
with an original idea.

- Yeah. Millenials.
- (chuckles)

I just hope she doesn't go
the way of Stephanie May.

- And what way is that?
- It's been four years

since her first novel
and still no follow-up.

Oh. Some case
of writer's block.

That's the problem with these
young pups. They write one book

and think they're Truman Capote.
Now, her publisher's focused

on Eve while Stephanie gets
shoved out the door.

- Metaphorically speaking.
- They're dropping her?

They're demanding she return
the advance she got

after her first book...
which she spent on a house

while the ink
on the cheque was still wet.

- Rookie mistake.
- Rumour has it

she can't pay off
the mortgage or the advance.

But you didn't hear
that from me.

So maybe,
jealous and desperate,

Stephanie puts
the note in Eve's room

- to try to mess up her reading.
- And then, if it goes badly,

Eve's not their publisher's
golden child.

- And there she is.
- You got this?

- Yeah, piece of cake.
- Stephanie May!

- Oh!
- I am your biggest fan.

Seriously, I've read
Steampunks Loose six times.

Angie, you're embarrassing
yourself. If you do this

- at Eve Harridan's reading...
- Oh, I won't.

- She's no Stephanie May.
- Gosh, that's kind of you

to say, but I've heard
good things about Eve's book.

Well, her publisher
is certainly laying

- out the red carpet for her.
- She can't be good enough for all this fanfare.

Oh, I've met her once
or twice. She's seemed lovely.

Whatever. Please, just tell me

that you're working
on your second book.

Well, your wait is
almost over.

I am just putting the finishing
touches on my latest endeavour.

I'll be announcing it
at the closing party.

Is it another
Victorian m*rder?

It is the second
in the Steampunk Series.

Our heroine, Chastity Prescott,
investigates a series

of supernatural murders
in Victoria-era London.

That sounds super exciting!

Maybe people will
finally shut up about...

Sorry.

I see you've heard the rumours

about my advance.
That's... it's OK.

As John Irving wrote,
"Rumours aren't interested

in the unsensational story.
Rumours don't care what's true."

(tense music)

(distant honking)

Eve.

Please, tell me
you found something.

Uh, well, we spoke
to Stephanie May.

She's written her
follow-up novel, and only had

- nice things to say about you.
- And we talked to Helen.

I wouldn't ask her
for any more favours,

but she doesn't seem
like a thr*at.

Any chance this is hazing?

You know, from the old guard
to the new?

I don't know. Like, I guess?

(microphone feedback)

The, uh, panel's
about to start. We'll keep

an eye on you,
make sure nothing happens.

Now, Tex, we have
a quote of yours here that says

your number one piece of advice
is to make notes.

- I wanna watch this.
- I'm gonna take a seat.

- OK.
- OK, I think we're gonna need

- to hear that story.
- Well, the case rested

on a licence plate,
and I was young,

- and I thought I'd remember it.
- Mmhm.

But it took an extra week
to find the guy

- because I didn't write it down.
- Oh.

Lesson being:
Always take notes.

That was rude.

- Yeah, but not criminal.
- I'll keep eyes on Eve.

- You wanna do a lap?
- Sure.

- You mean one of the mistakes that I made, or...
- OK.

Um, a big one for me
would be listening

and not just hearing the words
that people are saying,

but listening for the words
they might not be saying.

- Mmhm.
- Did you hear Topher got

- a new agent?
- Like that will help him.

Well, speaking
as a world-renowned expert

- who doesn't make mistakes...
- OK.

...I'd say the biggest blunder
is not checking for prints

on everything.

Apparently, Eve Harridan's
movie deal is seven figures,

and the book hasn't
even come out yet.

- It's pure luck.
- I mean, how good can it be?

I guess we'll find out
at her reading.

- ...forensic expert.
- Well, you'd think so, Deedee,

but I've seen
experts completely ignore

high-contact area
for fingerprints.

People touch a lot more
than they think

they do, even criminals.

- It would be criminal...
- Well... unless cattiness is

- a crime, I got nothing.
- ...favourite, most exciting,

most memorable case has been?
And don't spare us

any dirt.
I want every little detail.

I wish I could regale you
with some high drama,

but, uh, the majority of cases
that PIs get are

- tax fraud and infidelity.
- Well, maybe for him.

Oh, look at Shade
throwing shade.

...corner you, and you're
gonna have to give me

- some juicy details.
- I've got some juicy bits!

But, you know what,
we don't have any time,

so sadly. Thank you so much,
both of you,

for being here,
and for giving us something

to incorporate into our work.

(applause)
Yes.

And now, it's time
for the m*rder mystery game.

You may now all open up
your envelopes

that you received when
you first arrived. In there,

you'll find your character,
storyline and clues.

And now, we'll find out
if you're as good

at being detectives
as you are at writing them.

In the next 30 minutes,
one of you will die.

(laughs)
Who will it be?!

And who will solve the case?
OK. Enjoy yourselves.

(mysterious music)

(indistinct chatter)

(with English accent):
Where's the butler?

I must discuss
my missing pearls with him!

- I need a drink.
- Yeah.

(with English accent):
Ah, Mrs. Westwood Wagner,

my lovely wife,
can I get you a drink?

(with English accent):
Please do.

- I need to speak with you.
- Privately.

We've been dancing around this
for far too long.

This time, we're finally honest
with ourselves, and him.

- Honest about what?
- Us.

I mean, it's finally time
he knows the truth.

I... I don't even think
I know the truth...

I know I'm not anything
but a poor stable boy,

Tippy, but those nights we spent
together were the best nights

- of my life.
- You're in character.

- Yeah. What did...
- what did you...

- No, no, no. Never mind.
- Honey, you've got to keep

your eye on this man,
or someone's gonna come along

- and steal him.
- Ah, nothing could come

between me
and my lovely wife, Tippy.

Oh, Roland, darling,
I hate to break it to you,

but I'm having an affair
with the poor stable boy.

- Ooh, a love triangle!
- How delicious!

And here I am,
just a common harlot.

(laughing)

(coughing)

(gasping and coughing)

(crowd exclaiming)

What? So soon?

God, I... I didn't even get
to drunkenly accuse anyone yet.

I'm supposed to be
the first victim.

Helen's always stealing
my spotlight.

She probably just fainted.

- She's really dead.
- (crowd exclaiming)

- Looks like poison.
- I think Helen Voss was m*rder*d.

(dramatic music)

(curious music)
(camera clicks)

OK. Can you bag that
and take that to the lab?

So... the writer

in the ballroom with the poison.

Just like the game.

You're right,
that's inappropriate.

But I do think you're right
about the poison.

We just won't know what kind
until the coroner examines her.

- I can tell you right now.
- See the bleeding along the gums?

That's a classic sign
of rodenticide. Rat poison.

Sir, can you step away from
the body? How'd you get in here?

I'm Timothy Burns,
forensic expert.

- OK.
- (camera clicking)

Oh, uh, no! You're gonna have
to put that phone away, sir.

This is the first time I've
been around the m*rder part.

Helen was a true crime writer.
She'd understand.

OK. Well, you may have
just compromised

this investigation
and contaminated the body, so.

- I'm available for hire.
- Oh.

(man whimpering)

MY GOD! HELEN!

(Percy sobs)

I've written
a thousand deaths...

but I've never truly understood
the meaning of the word loss.

(sombre music)

(Percy sniffles and gasps)

I'm very sorry
for your loss, sir.

Can you tell us where you were
at the time of the m*rder?

Uh, I, uh...

...I was in my suite,
doing an interview.

Can you think of anyone
who might've wanted

to k*ll your wife?

Well... when Helen
was writing a book,

she talked to K*llers,
criminals, witnesses.

But I can't think
of any recent threats.

How could this have happened?
How is she just...

Oh, no!

Actually, sir, you can't
touch that. That's evidence.

(sighs)

She bought it after
her first book was published.

We'll get it back to you
as soon as we can.

(Percy cries)

Wait. Where have they
taken her?

HELEN? HELEN!

HELEN!

So I have to get statements
from all the writers,

uh, and I've told everyone
they can't leave

the premises because,
technically, they are

all suspects,
which seemed to excite them,

so... that's strange. I saw Tex

was in there.
He's back in town? That's fun!

Or not. Um...

OK. Well, I'm gonna need statements
from both of you, so stick around.

Maybe that note was meant
for Helen and just ended up

- in the wrong room.
- No. That axe was

- definitely meant for Eve.
- Yeah.

- Danica needs us on this case.
- Well, she did tell us

to stick around. I'm gonna go
talk to that waiter

that was handing out
the champagne glasses.

- Maybe he knows something.
- OK.

(Tex): So nothing
out of the ordinary?

- No new faces?
- No. Nothing, man.

- Nothing.
- Hey!

Hey!

Are you trying
to horn in on our case?

Says the guy that's
five minutes behind me.

Hey, guys, do I need
to stay here?

(both): Yes.

Look, given the high-profile
nature of the case,

I figured it required someone
with a background in policing.

Oh, not that having
a background in wraparound goals

- isn't useful.
- Are you really trying

to steal a m*rder case
from Angie?

- (scoffs)
- I don't know if it's

- technically Angie's case.
- Oh. I look forward

- to watching you tell her that.
- Good point. Work together?

Sure, what the hell.

All right, kid,
let's start with your name.

- David. David Marks.
- So, David,

Helen Voss took a drink
from a glass you served her

- right before she collapsed.
- A poisoned glass.

Look, I don't take
drink orders, man.

She, uh, picked
a random glass off my tray.

- I don't even pour them.
- Who does?

I don't know. I pick a tray
of drinks from the bar,

circulate,
bring the empty tray back.

- You sure about that, David?
- Yeah.

'Cause we don't like being
lied to. Isn't that right, Tex?

- No, we do not, Shade.
- Look, guys, I'm not lying.

The tray was sitting there
10 minutes before I got it.

As far as I know,
anyone could've poisoned it.

All right. Having been
to a lot of these events,

I know that waiters
hear and see things.

Yeah. People think we're
not listening, but we are.

Did you hear or see anything
that we need to know about?

About that dead woman?

Uh, she was talking
to this weird forensics guy.

Timothy. What were
they talking about?

I don't know,
but I could tell it was

a close conversation,
if you know what I mean.

I can't put my finger on it,
but I know that waiter

- from somewhere.
- Deedee told me the Vosses

have a jealous housekeeper.
I've got Zoe looking into it.

We didn't get much
out of the waiter.

We? Tex, you're not trying
to steal my m*rder case.

Look, Shade wasn't sure he could handle
the witness, so he asked for my help.

What?! I took pity on you
and let you help!

OK, boys! Focus.

Right. This David Marks guy,
he says he saw

Helen and Timothy in a quote
unquote close conversation.

- I saw them talking too.
- It looked tense.

- Lovers' quarrel?
- If Helen and Timothy

were having an affair,
maybe... Timothy got jealous

when he saw Percy talking
about how great Helen is

- and how much he loves her?
- So, in a jealous rage,

he poisons her.
That would explain why he was

- so eager to get to her body.
- To cover up the evidence,

which he'd know how to do.
He also could've written

- that note to cover his tracks.
- I got this one.

Coming?

Ouch.

(tense music)

- An affair? That's absurd.
- A witness saw

you two engaged in a
pretty intimate conversation.

I'm told I stand
too close to people.

- You do?
- I saw the same conversation,

- and it did seem impassioned.
- Not in that way.

- Care to enlighten us?
- I've been Helen's

forensic consultant for years.

After all, I am
a world-renowned...

- (both): Forensics expert.
- Yeah. We got it.

People think she does
all the work on her own,

but that's entirely false.
I examine the forensics.

I explain the science,
without which no case of hers

- would ever be solved.
- Then why the argument?

After the Seattle Strangler
went to prison,

because of my work,
I pitched a book

about the crime's forensics,
which Helen knew I was doing,

and then added
a chapter to her book.

The forensics
of the Seattle Strangler case.

- Yes! And the worst part is...
- she didn't include me

in the acknowledgements!
No thank you, no nothing!

- That's cold.
- That's Helen.

- So you had motive.
- I was upset,

but not enough to k*ll her.

Especially in such
a pedestrian way. No.

What you saw was me quitting.

She would never have been able
to investigate or write

anything without me.

So, if anything,
she had reason to k*ll you,

- not the other way around.
- As we say

in the forensics world,
that is accurate.

Could we see the photos
you took of the body?

Hm.

Well... yes.

(suspenseful music)

(Angie sighs)

What's that
on her index finger?

Looks like the same irritation
as around her mouth.

- Rat poison!
- But why in the shape

of a tiny triangle?
What could've caused that?

And how did it get
on her finger?

(giggling)

If we can figure out
what caused the pattern

on Helen's finger,
it'll point to the actual method

of poisoning and,
hopefully, who did it.

(phone rings)
(phone beeps)

- Hey, Jada.
- Matt.

I'm so glad you picked up.
Are you all right?

- Yeah, I'm fine. Why?
- Well, the m*rder

at the Mystery Writer's
Conference is all over the news.

The m*rder's all over the TV.

No, we're fine.
Nothing to worry about.

- Actually, we're helping out.
- [Well, I should let you go.]

- Stay safe.
- [Yeah, all right. I'll see you later.]

(phone rings)
(phone beeps)

- Hey, Zoe. What do you got?
- A week ago,

Helen filed a lawsuit
against Eve. Turns out

Eve wrote her book
while working for Helen.

So Helen's arguing

that Eve's book actually
belongs to her company?

- Exactly.
- [If Eve lost the lawsuit, ]

she'd lose the rights to her
book, along with her movie deal,

fame and the money. Damn.

- [What?]
- Looks like our client

might've k*lled Helen.

♪

(phone beeping rapidly)

(phone beeps)
(lock clicks)

You know, you could
let me use that thing

- every once in a while.
- Oh, like last time,

when you got frustrated
and broke the doorknob?

I got us in the room,
didn't I?

Just see if there's anything
here that points to Eve.

You know,
there's no way Eve did this.

She's young. She's got
her whole life ahead of her.

Aw, Matt Shade,
swayed by a pretty face.

Oh, please. I never listen
to you, do I?

(tense music)

Hey...

Check it out.

What are you doing in here?

Why are you looking
at me like that?

Because we found this...

and that makes you
our number one suspect.

(rising music)

(ambient music)

(distant siren blares)

- (Danica sighs)
- Tell me the truth.

- You wrote that yourself.
- No! Why would I do that?

- To throw everybody off.
- I mean, you knew

Helen didn't like your book.
She was your mentor.

She never respected you.

And now, she was
going to sue you.

- Ruin your life.
- Yes.

- So you k*lled her!
- Is Danica being

- good cop and bad cop?
- It would appear that way.

She was revered,
but she wasn't well liked.

Seriously, it could
have been anyone.

Did we misread her? I mean,
the evidence against Eve is

pretty damning. She could've
written the note to throw us off.

We tested the poison
in Helen's system,

and it matches the rat poison
that we found in your room.

I don't know how it got there.

- OK.
- I shouldn't have hired

- those guys.
- Hey!

- We did get her arrested.
- Fair. OK.

We'll keep her as a client, but
if we find out that she did it...

I'll tell Danica myself.

(chair clatters)

What's interesting is
that we tested Helen's glass,

and we found
no trace of rat poison.

So where did it come from, Eve?

- I don't know!
- Based on the photo

of Helen's finger, it's obvious
that whatever poisoned her

was something she touched.

Just because you found
the rat poison,

that does not give
you access to everything.

I'm the detective here.

And this... is a courtesy.

- And so appreciated.
- Just be quick. This is

her purse and all
of its contents.

OK. We got the purse...

and cell phone, some keys.

- Breath freshener, Sharpie...
- This is it.

Breath freshener.
The top of the spray bottle

has an indentation
of a triangle.

OK. The poison came from this.

I'm gonna take this
to be tested.

This does not exonerate
your client.

Eve was Helen's assistant.
She would've known...

how frequently she used
the breath spray,

and you both found
the rat poison in Eve's room.

So Eve is going to remain
our primary suspect.

Just... OK? I'm just letting

you know that.
(phone ringing)

- (phone beeps)
- How'd it go

- with the housekeeper, Zoe?
- [She's visiting her family]

- [in Guam.]
- Oh. Hold on.

Hey, Tex. I'm with Shade. I'm
just patching you in with Zoe.

Ooh! Sexy Texy's back in town.

- Hey, Zoe.
- Uh... I can hear you.

Ahem. Hey, Tex!

[I thought that waiter,
David Marks, looked familiar, ]

so I put in a call
to a contact who worked

the Seattle Strangler,
aka Peter Tamper, case,

[and guess who has
a son named David Tamper?]

I'm gonna send you
a photo right now.

(tense music)

- I've seen this photo.
- It was everywhere.

- That's his son in the house.
- He's 18 here,

- [but... look familiar?]
- That's the waiter, David!

OK. You guys go talk
to him again. I'm gonna stay

here with Eve. We got her into
this mess. Let's get her out.

♪

- David Marks?
- Or should we say David Tamper?

- I guess I should've told you.
- Why didn't you tell us that, David?

- My father's a m*rder*r.
- I don't like to advertise

- that we're related.
- And yet, you had no problem

getting your revenge
on the woman who put your dad

- behind bars.
- What? No.

You expect us to believe it's a
coincidence that you're working this event?

- No. I mean... I mean, yeah.
- Which is it, David?

Look, I just wanted
to talk to Helen.

I knew she was writing a book
about my dad and his case.

(David sighs)
My father...

he deserves everything he gets.

But me and my mom...

we had nothing to do with it.

Matter of fact, we had
no idea what was going on.

And I want the world
to know that.

You wanted Helen to tell
your side of the story?

Yeah. She gave me
her cell phone number.

We were gonna set up
an interview time.

That's the card.

Why would I k*ll the only person
who would give me

and my mom a voice?

(rhythmic music)

Turns out David's
a victim himself, not a k*ller.

And there isn't any evidence
connecting him to the m*rder.

You guys could've saved
yourselves a lot of time

if you'd listened to me,
the actual detective.

Ah, technically,
we're all detectives here.

So if the m*rder*r isn't

the serial k*ller's son,
or the forensics expert,

or the young ingénue
then... who is it?

You know, all Percy had
to do was switch Helen's

breath spray with the poison.

[From there, she unknowingly
poisoned herself.]

So even if Percy had an alibi,
he wouldn't have to be

- with her to k*ll her.
- Eve said

that Percy and Helen weren't
as in love as they seemed.

Apparently,
they kept up appearances

because their love story
sold books.

Percy could've switched
her real breath freshener

with the poisoned one anytime.

That's why he wanted
the purse. He wanted

- to keep it out of evidence.
- Plus, he had every opportunity

to plant the poison
and the note in Eve's room.

Sounds like we need
to pay Percy a visit.

Your call, Detective Powers.

I like him.

I do too.

(tense music)

Mr. Voss? We need to speak

- with you about your wife.
- You wanna do this

the hard way? Fine.
You need to come with me

to the station for a long talk.

I don't think he's going
to the police station.

Percy Voss is dead.

(ominous music)

Look at his lips.

It's the same irritation
that Helen had.

He must've ingested
the same rat poison.

- It was probably in his drink.
- (indistinct speaking over radio)

(Angie): Well, at least
we know that Eve is innocent.

She was in custody
when Percy was k*lled.

Guy's got
good taste in cigars.

That's a Flor di Bianco.

- I love a nice Cuban.
- My dad loved cigars,

but he could only afford
Majesty Winholms.

- I smoked a cigar once.
- It was great...

for one puff.

Then... then, I puked.

Well, this cigar is
barely smoked.

Hey...

"I k*lled her. May God forgive
me in this life or the next."

Maybe Percy wasn't m*rder*d.

He committed su1c1de.

(intriguing music)

- (streetcar bell dings)
- (Tex): Ange?

You can step away from the
board now. The case is closed.

Percy k*lled Helen,
then k*lled himself.

- I don't know.
- It seems too easy.

- Shade's right.
- Something's not adding up.

When Danica questioned
Eve earlier, she said

Percy thought of himself
as the ultimate alpha male.

He could never admit
he was wrong.

- So he's an egomaniac.
- What kind of egomaniac

kills their wife,
regrets it 12 hours later

- and then kills themselves?
- Right?

The pieces don't add up.

Ah. I'm late to meet Jada.
Pick this up tomorrow?

- Yeah, that's a good idea.
- We'll put fresh eyes on it

- in the morning.
- All right. See you guys.

(receding footsteps)

(distant honking)
(door creaks)

Well... should we finish it?

We don't wanna be wasteful.

It's been nice having you
around again... on the case.

- Keeps Shade on his toes.
- Well, it's nice being back.

The old g*ng's
back together again.

You, me... that other guy.

Yeah. I don't really wanna
talk about Shade.

Neither do I.

You know,
it's getting pretty late.

Very late.

- I'm feeling pretty tired.
- Me too.

Luckily, I have

the best discount mattress
money can buy.

Tell me more
about this mattress.

Well, they gave me
50% off, and they threw

- in two pillowcases for free.
- Wow.

Now that I gotta see.

It's really the only way
to appreciate it.

(soft music)

Hey. I'm sorry I'm late.

Apparently, we have
the house to ourselves.

Ah!

And someone had
flowers waiting for me.

Ah, they were supposed to be
those purple astral things.

They're perfect, and the fact
that you even tried...

- it's very romantic.
- House to ourselves, huh?

- A lot of empty rooms.
- What are we doing down here?

♪

(distant honking)

(phone ringing)

- (phone beeps)
- Hello?

- The Florida Bianco.
- It's 7 a.m., Shade.

It's a $750 cigar.

OK, and it'll still be 750

- [at 9 a.m., right?]
- Why would someone light

a $750 cigar

to only take one puff
and let it burn out?

- Well, you wouldn't.
- Especially if you knew it was

- [your last one.]
- Exactly! Percy wasn't planning

- on k*lling himself.
- He was m*rder*d.

And whoever m*rder*d him faked
his su1c1de note.

Well, probably the same person
that k*lled Helen,

but... who would wanna k*ll
both Helen and Percy Voss?

I don't know. But... Scotch
and an expensive cigar,

doesn't that sound
like a celebration to you?

- Shade, you're a genius.
- [So... you wanna]

- tell Tex or should I?
- No, uh, no, I, uh,

I got it. Um...
So Percy was superstitious.

[How much do you wanna bet
he had a ritual]

[every time he finished
a manuscript?]

Or a glass of whisky
spark up a cigar.

A new Percy novel,
a dead Percy.

I don't think
that's a coincidence.

Neither do I.

- (Angie): Hey, Danica.
- Thanks for getting us in.

Eve didn't happen to mention
where the manuscript might be?

Really? Check the freezer.

- The freezer?
- It's where Eve said to look.

(suspenseful music)

Here it is.

"Chesterfield Journals
by Percy Voss."

We got it. Thanks, Danica.

(phone beeps)
We should've known.

- Why?
- Because he only writes

on a typewriter, so there
wouldn't be a digital copy.

Explains why he hides it,
but why the freezer?

Eve told Danica that he did it
after his first bestseller,

and he's done it ever since.
Apparently, the only people

that even know
that are Eve and Helen.

So someone k*lled Percy,
searched the suite

for the manuscript,
couldn't find it.

The one thing I don't get is
what does any of this

have to do with Helen?

This is weird.
This novel takes place

in the Victorian era. Isn't that
Stephanie May's genre?

It is. Maybe... Percy was
branching out?

Or edging into
Stephanie's territory.

- Maybe she felt threatened.
- Yo, I think I have

something here.

By the time this airs,
the book will be released.

The Chesterfield Journals

follows Detective
Rip Chesterfield

as he investigates
a supernatural m*rder

in Victorian-era Chicago.

That's almost exactly
what Stephanie said her next

steampunk novel was about. Is it
possible they had the same idea?

Percy could've
stolen her book.

He's written
countless bestsellers.

She's written one. There'd be
no reason to steal her book.

- On the other hand...
- Stephanie May desperately

needs a hit. Otherwise,
she'll lose her house,

- her career, everything.
- Percy could've written

this book for Stephanie.
It would explain why

it takes place
in Victorian times.

Yeah, but Percy doesn't seem
like the kind of guy

who would write a book
to help out a friend.

- They're not friends.
- Percy and Stephanie barely

know each other. They live
in different cities.

They have different fan bases.
They run in different circles.

- So nothing connects these two.
- Other than they're

both writers who show up at
the same conference every year.

- They're basically strangers.
- Strangers at a conference.

(mysterious music)

- Oh, do you have it?
- It was

- in Percy's suite.
- Oh!

Thank you so much.
I... must've left it

in all the chaos. Percy took it
to keep it safe, I'm sure.

You know, this weekend,
we've been inspired

to write our own novel.
Could we

- pitch it to you?
- It's about a young writer.

Let's call her...
Stephanie, just for fun.

She wrote a good book
and was given a small fortune

to write another one,
but she couldn't deliver.

So her publishers demanded
the money back.

Meanwhile,
a very successful writer,

let's call him... Percy,
hated his wife

- and wanted her dead.
- So the two writers cooked up

this scheme.
Does this sound familiar?

Heh. No.

He ghostwrote
your book for you.

- That's ridiculous.
- What? Why would he do that?

Because you were willing
to k*ll his wife.

Classic Strangers
on the Train agreement.

No one would suspect you.
You've got no connection

to Helen, and... Percy seemed
to adore his wife.

But, like any good
mystery writer,

you added a red herring.
You planted the rat poison

in Eve's room
to try to frame her.

Except you miscalculated
your partner.

Percy realized
he ghostwrote a bestseller.

And he refused
to give it to you...

which must have been
a big bummer, since you already

- k*lled his wife.
- The only option you had left

was to k*ll Percy and try
to make it look like a su1c1de.

And then, take his manuscript
as your own.

- This is crazy!
- The only problem was

- you couldn't find it.
- Until now.

That manuscript is mine,
and you can't prove otherwise.

No?

"Rip had arrived
at the moment of truth.

"In front of the townspeople,
he revealed

who the murderous vampire was.
It was..."

Ooh! Who was
the murderous vampire?

I mean, if we're wrong
and you did write this,

you'll know who the k*ller is.

I don't have to answer
your questions.

- Actually... you do.
- Who's the k*ller?

You don't know the answer
'cause you didn't write it.

- You poisoned Percy's drink.
- Then, you typed

- a fake su1c1de note.
- Next time you wanna make

it look like a su1c1de,
do me a favour: Don't wipe

the victim's prints
from his typewriter

and his scotch glass.
It's a dead giveaway.

On the plus side,
you're gonna have plenty of time

to write that second novel...

(handcuffs clicking)

...in jail.

(indistinct speaking over radio)

(classic rock music)

(jazz music plays)

(indistinct chatter)

Folks, when I get
finished writing this,

you're gonna be major players
in a true crime book.

I see book tours, movie rights.
I'm just trying to figure out

which Hemsworth brother's
gonna play me.

(chuckling)
Excuse me.

- Ah, to Timothy.
- And to us. Job well done.

Except for the whole getting
you arrested bit.

- Sorry about that.
- Mm. Everything is

inspiration to writers.
Oh! Speaking of...

I have an assistant now!
How cool is that?

Thank you! These are for you.

It's an advance copy of my book
and a small token

of my appreciation.

"May your deaths
only ever be written."

- Thank you.
- No, thank you...

for everything.

Hm.

- So where's Tex?
- Oh! He's off

getting me some food. He knows
I need to eat every two hours.

He really gets you,
doesn't he?

Maybe.

Oh! Before I forget... Ah.

I got you something.

Shade... my dad's favourite.

Don't save 'em
for a special occasion.

(phone ringing)

- Answer it.
- You sure?

- Yeah. Don't be weird.
- OK.

(phone beeps)

- Well, we have...
- a slider or a salad.

- Who's the salad for?
- (Tex chuckles)

So I'm on a flight
back to Seattle tomorrow,

unless...

Ah...

This has been great.

You are... so great.
You check all the boxes.

- Yeah. I'm just...
- still not the guy.

Well, you can't
blame me for trying.

Never.

(jazz music plays)

One last dance
for old time's sake?

Absolutely.

(phone beeps)

♪

(theme music)

♪