08x06 - Astoria Helen

[bunniefuu]

Male announcer:
In New York City's w*r on crime,

the worst criminal offenders
are pursued

by the detectives
of the major case squad.

These are their stories.

[Irish accent]
This one's on me.

But...you have
to promise me one thing.

Call me.

is that near Pennsylvania
or something?

That's right.

That's hilarious.
I know.

[Laughing]

[Laughs]

Ah, I like that.

Let's take it slow.

I'd like to see you again.

Um...

There's something
I have to tell you

if we're gonna
go any further.

I have a seven-year-old son.

I look forward
to meeting him.

[Snarling]

Do you want
to take him home?

Can I, mom?

Sure, he can sleep
in your bedroom.

If he makes too much noise,
I'll bring him back.

Shh, shh, shh, shh.

Don't wake him up.

You're really
getting to him.

I haven't seen him this happy
in a long time.

He's a great kid.

Hey...what are you doing?

Uh, just filling out
my hours for work.

We can do it online.

[Laughs]

Let's go.

Get down!
Get down!

Uhh!

[Tires screech]

[Tires screech]

[Squeaking]

[Car engine humming]

I woke up the owner
of the management company.

They rented the garage
to a Bob Smith.

715 west 23rd, but...

Numbers on 23rd street
don't go that high,

so we can assume
that his name isn't Bob.

Or Smith.

They paid in cash
last June 2nd.

Two-year rental.

And, according to the three
company employees,

he was black,
white, or Asian,

and in his 20s, 30s,
or 40s.

Heh heh, memory's
a wonderful thing, isn't it?

It's ammonia.

Kerosene.
Mm-hmm.

The bomber used
ammonium nitrate fertilizer.

Add an accelerant, and boom,
you destroy the van.

Well, he got the guy
he was after.

How so?

Padlock on the door--
open.

Key to the back of the van
still in the door.

The victim had both keys.
He's not breaking in.

This is what
the bomber wanted.

So now you're reading
his mind, Dr. Freud?

Detectives...
A ballistic material.

Used to transport
something worth protecting.

Does he have
a license plate up front?

Both gone.

Can you get a VIN number?
Fragments.

We'll piece it together.

[Murmuring]

Mr. Red jacket...

Is Alex Carlisle,

late of long island city.

Gee, this is interesting.

What are we supposed
to be looking at here?

We are supposed to be
looking at a Velcro strip

hanging off the ballistic
material

in the blown-up van.

Spaghetti.

Magnified 35 times.

It was tagged
with nano-fibers

so it could be identified
if the bags were stolen.

It's a security device
used in thousands of products:

Oil, clothing,
even some foods.

Spaghetti?

Uh, if it was especially
valuable spaghetti.

Wow. Can you taste it?

No, no.

If it was food,
they'd use an edible starch.

Hmm.

So if you and I went
to an Italian restaurant

and ordered spaghetti,

markers would have no, uh,
no harmful effect?

[Whispers] No.

[Giggles]

You found something?

Uh, the fabric in the van
is from bags

used by
dbc security networks.

One of its armored trucks
was robbed six months ago

by a three-man team.

One of whom
was no doubtedly

our victim
Mr. Carlisle.

His record came in.

Juvenile arrests
for check kiting,

ticket scalping.

Big leap to armed robbery.

He grew up.

Let's go dig up the files
on that dbc robbery.

Hmm.

Spaghetti.

We owe it to science.

"Witnesses
to the armored truck robbery

"described
a white Econoline van

"and three men,

one in a red
leather jacket."

Mr. Carlisle,
who just got blown up.

So one's dead, and we have
to look for the other two.

Either they split
the money...

Or one of them has it,

and he's hoping to get rid
of the third guy...

Which means whoever
didn't set this b*mb

is wondering if he's next.

See what I mean?

He insists on finishing
my sentences.

[Chuckles]

The armored truck
was filling ATM machines.

The bills were new,
sequentially numbered.

Now, this is interesting.

The truck was hit
right before

the first ATM stop
of the day.

When they'd have
the most cash.

Inside job?

That was the thinking
at the time.

Guys working the case
said there were two likelies.

Number one, Leo Cipriotti.

He was one of the guards
in the armored truck.

We know where he is now?

Raised a stink about
P.T.S.D.

He's retired,
full disability.

Look at him
in this picture.

Ay! What a mook.

Look at that,
how he leans his head back,

creates a distance.

Superiority.

Contestant number two,
Helen Bramer.

DBC office employee.

Delivery schedule
coordinator.

Yeah, detectives
who caught the case

said she had
financial troubles.

They had a feeling
about her,

sat on her
for a couple months.

Nothing.

And her current
whereabouts?

Still at DBC.

I don't know what I can add
to what I already

told the other detectives.

Oh, you never know
what might just, uh,

bubble up, you know.

We're just gabbing.

Have a seat.

Have you ever told anyone
about the armored car routes?

No, I wouldn't do that.

I'll cut to the chase
and say the same thing

I said to the other cops.

You should talk to Leo.

Leo Cipriotti.

You think Leo
tipped somebody off?

The guards never
know their route

until the night
before a run,

and Leo was always
asking for information.

About...

My love life.

My kid.

And then, all of a sudden,

he'd ask about work.

Did you two ever date?

No.

It's against the rules.

Helen...

You dated Leo, right?

It was just
a couple of dates.

Please, I can't
lose this job.

Leo Cipriotti?

The DBC security job?

It's the shoes.

Police officers
all have the same shoes.

It's always the guards,
isn't it?

What would make us
think otherwise, Leo?

If I'm involved,

how come the guys
robbed the truck

smacked me up so good?

Maybe they give you
a little tap,

robbery seems kosher.

Oh, yeah,
you got me, Perry Mason.

20 stitches
and a cracked skull

is more than a little tap.

Ah, you been talking
to that Helen broad

from DBC?

She's your weak link.

Not much she wouldn't do
to get attention,

you know what I mean?

Get any
of that attention yourself?

We went out for drinks
a couple of times.

But I don't like women
looking for a man

to daddy up
for their kid.

Can I get back to my game?

Well,
don't overdo it, Leo.

Once you get
kicked off disability,

it's hard to get back on.

I think you're right
about Helen Bramer.

She's afraid.

She seems tired, b*at up.

Look at her.

Look at Leo Cipriotti.

You wonder why she'd even

want to go for a drink
with this guy.

Bet she always
picks the wrong guy.

Probably, uh,

insufficiently praised
as a child.

Gives you
attachment problems.

Were you insufficiently
praised as a child?

Me?

No.

They praised me
all the time.

Which, uh, backfired

and made me think
too much of myself.

You over that?

I'm working on it.

Anything?

Uh, can't rule out
Helen Bramer

or the guard.

But nothing big
off either.

The lab lifted two
partial prints off the van.

No hits.

But they did put a VIN number
together.

That van was reported stolen
six months ago

by a Frank Stroup.

Well, truth be told,
I wasn't unhappy

that piece of crap
got ripped off.

New rig,
my business really expands.

"Man with a van"
type business?

This is more
than just a van.

Payload over 3,000 pounds.

Capacity, 275 cubic feet.

Losing the old rig
was the best news I ever got.

Well, Frank,
we got more news for you.

Your old van...

We found it.

No.

I just went through

the whole insurance claim
process.

It took me, like,
three months.

Are they gonna get--
no, Frank.

It's okay.

Nobody's gonna
make you take it back.

It's, uh, it's kind of
out of commission, anyway.

Where were you
in early June?

Early June?

Same place I go
every year.

Florida.

Fishing largemouth bass.

Been going
since I was a kid.

Hey, all this detailing.

Is this, uh,
that's you, isn't it?

With my dad.

I know this guy.

You give him a photo,

he can put it anywhere.

Very reasonable,
if you're interested.

Wow, look, it fills
the whole side of the van.

Well, you know.
It's my dad.

Who doesn't love their dad?

And, just so I understand,

your old van got stolen

when you were away
fishing in Florida?

Yeah, it was in there.

Uh, came home, and the locks
were busted off.

Anyone know
you were gone?

Uh...i mean,

it's not like I make
any secrets of my movements.

Could you not lean
on the van?

On the van?
Oh, sorry.

Sorry.

[Indistinct chatter]

'Scuse me.
Thank you.

Uh, ahem.

They told me
you were down here.

Um, yeah, I like
to watch these guys.

Ah, another one of those
empty-your-mind things?

Yeah, a report
came up on Frank Stroup.

Uh, he was telling the truth,
as it turns out.

He flew down to Florida
on the last day of may.

Checked into
the pink flamingo

golf and game fishing resort
in Clearwater for two weeks,

rented a boat, and ran up
a $1,000 bar tab.

Can you drink that much
and still go fishing?

I assume we checked
credit cards?

Credit cards
and airline manifests.

Yeah, it all checked out.

Don't start finishing
my sentences too.

Uh, we got a hit
on those prints from the van.

They matched
a Joe Gallagher.

He was printed when he applied
to be a substitute teacher.

Current address?

Well, according to the new
burial rules at St. Mary's,

I'd guess he's about
nine feet under the grass.

They found his prints
in the van, but he's dead?

He d*ed in a fire
in June.

June 4th, to be exact.

So Joe Gallagher

dies in a fire
in his apartment June 4th,

two days after
the armored car hit.

Suspect one, Alex Carlisle.

Suspect two, Joe Gallagher.

And then the third man
gets rid of Joe Gallagher.

Six months later,
he gets rid of Alex Carlisle.

But the money's
still too hot to spend.

He's playing the long game,
burying all his leads.

Let's unbury one of them.

We're gonna need
a court order

to disinter
Joe Gallagher's body.

He was D.O.A., obviously.

But there are signs
rigor set in

before the flames
got to him.

The original
M.E.'s report

said he d*ed
of smoke inhalation.

Uh, you'd have residue
in his rib cage

if he was still breathing.

There isn't any.
Cause of death?

Uh, there's no sign
of trauma.

It's hard to tell.

Maybe suffocation?

So maybe he smothered
in the bed.

Which would explain
the original M.E.'s report.

And the fire was set
to cover the m*rder.

Not the final chapter
Joe Gallagher was looking for.

Oh, that chapter
hasn't been written.

This isn't Joe Gallagher.

Richard Greenwood,
Iraq veteran.

V.A. Files
with dental records.

He was in and out
of shelters,

when he wasn't
living on the street.

Adjustment problems
when he got back.

Drinking, dr*gs.

Joe Gallagher
wants to disappear.

What better way
than faking your own death?

This is it.

Joe Gallagher's
rental application

said he worked here.

Well, I worked here,

I'd be thinking about
hitting an armored car too.

Yeah.

Yeah, sure.
Joe Gallagher.

You know him?
Knew.

He got b*rned up
in a fire.

He liked the ladies,
I can tell you that much.

He never left here alone.

Did you two ever date?

[Chuckles]

You could call it that.

He came over to my place
a couple times after work.

He wasn't much good,
you know...In the sack.

As far as eye candy goes,
he was pretty sweet.

He liked hearing
about his looks.

He wouldn't mind if you
told him a couple times a day.

Well, thank you
for your help.

That was a bust.

Uh, the way she talked,

Joe Gallagher
doesn't just like women,

he needs to impress them.

Meaning...

Probably needs
to impress everybody.

An easy Mark.

Whoever our third man is,

he knew who to recruit.

I'm alive.
Surprised?

No, it wasn't me
d*ed in that fire.

You know why.

I figured you'd get me
first chance you had.

No, I ain't telling you
where I am.

I'm coming to you.
I want my share.

I know what happened
to Alex.

I'm taking measures.

No, you listen.

One other thing.

You run,
I talk to the cops

before you clear Jersey.

[Beeps]

[Beeping]

[Sniffles]

[Phone ringing]

Don't answer it, Kevin!

It's probably
a wrong number.

It'll stop ringing
in a minute.

Come on, let's finish
your homework, okay?

So Gallagher
lures the vet home,

kills him, sets the fire,

and we assume what?

Gallagher and the third man
split the money?

Still not one dollar
of which has turned up.

I put the story
out to the press.

Paper comes out
in three hours.

Let's see if we
flush someone out.

Gallagher and the other guy
could run.

[Phone ringing]
Alex Carlisle didn't run.

I'm betting
they're all local.

Nichols.

What happened?

Yeah, sure.
We'll be right there.

You gonna share?

Um, that was
about Frank Stroup,

the guy whose van
was stolen for the robbery.

He's been sh*t.

I'm working out back

and this guy jumps out
from the side of the house.

Looks like he missed.

Lucky for me.

Otherwise, I'm in the morgue
instead of the hospital.

We still
would have visited.

Thanks.
Your partner's a comedian.

Witnesses said they heard
more than one sh*t.

I took the g*n
off the guy

and then I took
a couple of sh*ts at him.

Just fired a couple of--

couple of random sh*ts?

The guy
tries to k*ll me.

I tried to k*ll him back.

You heard of self-defense?

You got a description?

Yeah.

Skinny, not real tall.

Could have been a kid.

Uh, Jean jacket,
Yankee cap.

Black? White?

Ah, he was wearing
one of those stocking masks.

Any idea why someone
might want to sh**t you?

Who knows?

I mean, I got enemies.

Who doesn't?

But nothing I'm gonna
get sh*t over.

He was in Florida,
Clearwater, Florida.

I know.
We have passenger lists.

Resort records.

I'm just saying
his van was stolen.

It's used in a robbery.

He gets sh*t
in his own backyard.

If he's not involved
in that robbery,

he's having
a serious run of bad luck.

Okay, here we are.

Frank says the sh**t

comes around
the side of the garage.

Jumps him here.

Frank...

You know,
wrestles the g*n away

and gets off
a couple of sh*ts.

And the sh**t
escapes over the back fence.

Yeah, here's where Frank
was sh**ting at.

Tell me this:

Why doesn't Frank
have a better idea

of who might
want to k*ll him?

Well, that's
the $64,000 question.

Which, given
the current economy,

is now the, what,
$10,000 question?

Uh, you know, he could
have cheated somebody.

Might have ripped
somebody off.

He wouldn't
have told us that.

You know,
Frank's a grifter, hustler.

Well, he must keep records
for his legit biz.

Maybe we can find
something there.

Whose idea was this?

I think Frank missed
the bookkeeping chapter

in small businesses
for dummies.

Yeah, hasn't he
heard of computers?

This is nuts.

Tell me you've got
a warrant for that.

Oh, why bother?

We got
Stroup's permission.

Hey, look at this.

Pickup, Livingstone Avenue
in Riverdale.

March 20, a Sandra Bramer.

Bramer.

As in Helen Bramer?

[Bell rings]

[Indistinct chatter]

Hey, buddy!

How was your day?

Frank Stroup.

He's a moving guy.

I hired him to help me
move my mother's things

after she d*ed.

You stay in touch
after the move?

Why would I?

Because the van
Stroup drove

was used in the DBC
armored robbery.

You say anything
to him at all?

About work? No.

Wait, I...

He picked me up
at the office

to go my mom's place,
so he knew where I worked.

Do you know this fella?

Helen, do you--
do you know him?

I'll be right back.

If I stay in there,

Helen's gonna clam up
like a pistachio.

[Sighs]

Frank picked me up
to go to my mom's place.

And...

He asked me out
for a drink.

And, well, I wasn't--

he's not really my type.

Then a couple of days later,
he called,

said he knew someone
I might like.

Joe Gallagher?

The place
where Joe worked

was on my way home
from work,

so I went.

Joe was there
pouring drinks.

He was cute.

So what happened
with Joe, Helen?

We dated a few weeks.

All of a sudden,
he disappeared,

like it didn't even
matter to him.

Did you tell Joe anything

about the DBC
armored car route?

No.

But...i...

Did see him on my computer
one time.

I had no idea
what he was doing.

Then why bring it up?

What did you think
he was doing?

My partner is--what's
going on with her today?

You knew exactly
what Joe was doing.

He was looking up
the armored car information

when you caught him,
and you said nothing.

I wanted him to stay.

I would have done anything.

Including
lying to the detectives

who were investigating
the armored car robbery.

So interesting.

What did you see
in Joe, huh?

Tell me, what did you
see in this guy, huh?

How did you get taken in?

He used you.
He took advantage of you.

He wanted to be a family!
He said...

He wanted to be a family
with me and Kevin.

I should have
said something.

I thought he would
be a good father

because he was
such a good son.

A good son?

He was a perfect son.

He did everything
to get his mother's approval.

Called her every Sunday,
without fail.

Joe's death must have been
a terrible shock to you,

Mrs. Gallagher.

[Irish accent]
Yes, he was my only son.

Mrs. Gallagher,
was your son's body

every positively identified
after the fire?

No, the fire department

said he was b*rned
beyond recognition.

When did you last
hear from him?

A few weeks
before the fire.

So...six,
seven months ago?

Yes.

We have phone records
indicating

you receive calls
every week

made from disposable phones
purchased in queens.

Do you have family there?

My son told me
he was in trouble,

so I kept quiet.

The man dies in a fire,
and you keep it to yourself?

I grew up in county Armagh
in Ireland

in the 1970s.

There are a lot worse secrets
than thanking god

your only son's
still alive.

Where's Joe?

I don't know.
He doesn't tell me.

May I, uh...
Do you mind?

"Mom, happy birthday.
Love, Joe."

Ohh.

That is such a nice gift.
When was your birthday?

Three weeks ago.

But that
was from last year.

Joe didn't bring
that piece of junk

up here himself.

No, and it was brand-new.

Everything else
on that mantle is dusty,

except for Joe's present.

So UPS, fed ex, or DHL?

Let's check
with the local post office.

Um...excuse me.

Uh, my son Kevin
didn't come out.

Can I check inside?

He must have left it
with a super, 'cause it's odd

that ups would come down here
for a package.

Infantile
criminal behavior.

No problems
k*lling a homeless vet,

but never miss
his mom's birthday.

[Door opens,
footsteps]

Ohh! Uhh!

[Groaning]

Easy, Joe, we wouldn't
want you to hurt yourself.

Ross just got a call
from Helen Bramer.

Her son Kevin is missing.

Okay, let's do this
the long way.

We found your prints
in the van.

We know you did
the DBC job.

Was Alex Carlisle
a friend of yours?

And what about Frank Stroup?

Did he give you his van?

What's the matter?
The cat got your tongue?

It's all a big game

when you're screwing
with some poor woman's life,

but it's not
a game anymore.

Here's what I know:
You met Helen,

you got
the armored car routes,

and then
you planned that job.

And then you k*lled
that vet greenwood.

No, I didn't k*ll him.

He was already dead.

He used to hang
around the building,

and the night
after the robbery

I found him
by the dumpsters.

Why did you set the fire?

'Cause I thought
they'd come after me.

Well, you were smart.

You didn't
trust your partners.

I didn't rig the van,
okay?

I didn't rig that van.

Hey, sit down.

Once your partner
gets out of the city,

he's not gonna
keep Kevin with him.

You got that?

Kid's gonna be dead weight,

and then
he's just gonna be dead.

Every second that goes by,
you're in deeper.

You're going down for m*rder
and armed robbery.

You want to add accessory
to child m*rder?

He wouldn't k*ll a kid.

He wouldn't.

Who's "he," Joe?

[Door opens]

Hey, I saw you leaving.
Do you mind?

No, please.
I'm--I'm glad you're here.

He's not gonna give it up.

I always see people
inside these dolls.

Layers, each personality.

The child inside the adult.

Each need.

Each disorder...

Encased in the next.

What?

What do you call
a priest?

A priest?

No, what do you call
your priest?

I call him father bill.

I should listen to you.

Ohh, all that detailing
on his van.

His father.

Who called the Florida hotel
to get the room record

where Frank Stroup went?

Louis, downstairs.

He's a good cop.

Uh-huh.

Jersey driver's license.

Francis Stroup, age 73.

Men don't like
being called Francis.

Want to bet he's Frank's dad
and calls himself Frank.

Where's our Frank?

Checked out
of St. Vincent's around noon.

You were right.

He's the third man.

He used his credit card
to buy the plane ticket,

charge the hotel
for the father.

Let's fax a photo of Frank
the younger down to Florida.

I'm betting he didn't
go fishing this year.

I'll get E.S.U.
To pick up Frank Stroup.

Frank...knew that Joe
cared about the kid.

He knew
how to keep Joe quiet.

That's why Frank took him.

[Door opens]

Frank kidnapped the boy
because of you.

Didn't he?

You sh*t him.

Then you grabbed the money
from that armored car.

Did you?

Yeah, you did.

Now Frank wants it back.

You were gonna
give it to him as ransom,

but we arrested you first.

No.

Where is he, Joe?

Where were you supposed
to meet Frank?

I can't tell you.

He'll k*ll the boy.

You can't save him, Joe.

We can.

You don't know Frank.

I just went to talk to him,
and he started sh**ting.

I sh*t him in self-defense.

Where are they, Joe?
He's crazy.

Moves people around
like pawns.

You got to let me go.

He's expecting me.

I can't do that, Joe.

[Door opens]

We just talked
to the resort in Florida.

The Frank
who stayed there in June

was a happy, hard-drinking
man in his 70s.

Our Frank is gone.

I put out a statewide.

He knows where he is.

And I think I may know...

Someone who can
persuade him to tell.

Where's Kevin?

Do you have any idea
what you did to him?

A child.

You gave him
what he wanted

and then you took it away.

The only thing he wanted.

Where is he?

Where is he?

Frank has
a cabin upstate.

[Receding footsteps]

[Door slams]

He's inside.

He wants to drive
his van out clean

with an escort
to the Canadian border.

He'll let the kid go then.

He'll let the kid go now.

I'm coming in!

I don't have a g*n.

You're not in that deep
right now.

We know you didn't do it.

Frank...

This is me coming in.

Frank, let him go, Frank.

It was all Joe's idea.

Getting the routes
from that chick,

the fire in his apartment--
all Joe.

We get it.

He convinced you,
then he sh*t you.

He's a double-crossing
son of a bitch.

Let Kevin go.

I was afraid
he would k*ll me.

I was only trying
to protect myself.

I would never hurt the boy.

Of course you wouldn't
hurt the boy, Frank.

That's not who you are.
Let him come with me.

No.

I give him up,
I got nothing.

You'll have me, Frank.
Help us out.

Let the kid go.

Come on.

Come on.

Frank, that's not
who you are.

Let him come with me.

You're staying!

That's right, we're okay.
I'm staying.

Go ahead, Kevin.
Hurry up!

Come on!

Just so we're clear,
Joe is behind all of this.

We know, Frank.

Joe looks
for desperate people,

and he uses them.

And when he needs to,
he kills them.

I was scared, man.
He scared me.

You needed the money
for your business, right?

Yeah, that's right.
I needed the money.

I can help you.
I can tell you everything.

Great, that's perfect.

I was a man with a van.

What the hell
is a man with a van?

He promised me
my own moving company!

He manipulated you.

You can help us.
And we can help you.

[Cocks g*n]

Frank...

Frank.
You don't want to do that.

Let Joe go down for this,
not you.

That's right.

That's right.

[g*n clicks]

Let's go.

Come on.

Let's go.
Come on.

There we go.

[Grunting]
[Siren approaching]

Frank Stroup, you're
under arrest for kidnapping,

armed robbery, and m*rder.

You have the right
to remain silent.

What are you doing?

I'm gonna help you guys.

What about Joe Gallagher?

I lied.

Or you could call it,
uh, manipulation.

The trouble with being
a malignant narcissist, Frank,

you forget other people
manipulate too.

I wasn't talking about Joe
using people.

I was talking about you.

That's good.
Look at that.

You like that?
Oh, look who's here.

Mom.

Oh!

I am so grateful.
Thank you so much.

We're glad everything
worked out with Kevin.

The D.A. Is not gonna
press charges.

Hope everything
works out.

Yeah, I think we're
probably gonna head to Maine.

Be near family.

I've got to stop looking
for something here

I'm never gonna find.

Good luck to you both.

Same to you.

Bye.

So how did you
finally get to Frank?

Priest, father,
Russian dolls.

And you
in Frank's backyard.

You know what they say.

The mind is
a relevance-making machine.

It's a good thing
your mind works that way.

Yours too.