( dog barking )
Hey, yo! Yo, officer!
Yo! Real quick! Right here!
( gunshot )
( horse neighing )
( people shouting )
( neighing )
( siren wailing )
( voices over dispatch )
FLACK: Someone shot a mounted officer, Mac.
Shot him right off his horse.
EMS just got here. I got a guy...
All right, all right, slow down, Flack.
Just walk with me.
I heard the shot all the way
from Sixth Avenue.
It shook the windows in my squad car.
It sounded like a sonic boom.
Sounds like an echo from the weapon.
( siren wailing in distance )
Shot in the back.
Right through his protective vest.
We got a sniper.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fought for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ I don't need to fight ♪
♪ To prove I'm right ♪
♪ I don't need to be forgiven, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah. ♪
( distant sirens wailing )
Detective Flack, start getting statements.
Yes, sir.
Emergency Services,
canvas the entire area.
Conduct roof searches along the perimeter to the park.
Restrict all flyovers. Get aviation to assist.
No one sleeps in New York City until this shooter is caught.
Stella, you're with me.
Danny and Aiden, process.
We looking for anything specific?
The bullet. Let's go to work.
Man, this horse took a good hit.
Surprised he even got up.
We've searched every inch of this park.
No bullet, Mac. It's like a needle in a haystack.
Have Danny pull tapes from all available cameras.
See if they saw something our eyewitnesses didn't.
A half-ton animal on the loose in Central Park.
There must've been panic in the streets.
It'll be front page news in the Post.
You can be sure of that.
Cause of death?
Single gunshot wound to the back.
It pierced through the protective vest
and exited at a downward trajectory through the front.
Must've been a high-powered rifle.
The rifle doesn't concern me. It's the rifleman.
Sniping a live target
in motion is no easy task.
Sharpshooter?
I'll know for certain
after I take a look at that vest.
The horse.
Dr. Huff, when you examined the horse,
was there any evidence of a bullet wound
around the neck area?
He has suffered hundreds of cuts and bruises.
I didn't see anything on my preliminary examination.
Certainly nothing consistent with a gunshot.
Hey, Blue.
How you doing, boy?
I'm going to come in, okay?
( neighing )
Take it easy.
Nice and easy.
Yeah, boy.
As you can see, he's suffered
multiple contusions and abrasions...
the neck, the shoulder, and the pectoral regions.
You know, he's still spooked.
Detective Taylor, I don't think you're gonna get
anywhere near his neck area.
TAYLOR: With all due respect to the animal, sir,
we're gonna need to check that area somehow.
I can run a CAT scan,
but I'd have to sedate him to transport him.
I think he's been through enough.
Dr. Huff,
this animal may possess key evidence in the murder
of a New York City police officer.
We need to know for certain.
( neighing )
TAYLOR: There it is.
See the void?
HUFF: It's lodged in the nuchal ligament,
near the fourth and fifth vertebrae.
Looks like the bullet redirected.
I'm going to need that bullet.
We can remove it during surgery,
but I have to warn you:
removal would most likely be fatal to the horse.
Look, I sympathize with this animal, sir.
But unfortunately humans take precedence in this case.
The second your request is signed off
by the C.O. in Mounted, we'll start the surgery.
MESSER: Okay, center of the crime scene.
We're equal distance from the final resting place
of the officer and the cab and the horse.
We're at the naval where the shooting took place.
Start scanning north and east.
BURN: Northbound Central Park.
Eastbound Central Park.
Southbound Central Park.
And...
westbound Central Park.
Four corners done.
Let's bring Central Park back to our lab, huh?
Aiden, three-four squad has a DOA at Lex and 94th.
Possible homicide. You take it. Solo.
Thanks, Mac.
Sorry, partner.
So we'll use the security footage for geography.
We started the CAD reconstruction
from a fixed perspective.
Place the victim first.
Right.
Gonna lay down the skid marks.
Placing the cab.
Input the trajectory of that bullet.
30 degrees down the axial plane. Left of the T9.
Six degrees left of the sagittal.
Extend the line through the officer.
Adjust the perspective.
That's the Patterson Building.
Nine stories high, three across.
Detective Burn, Detective Thacker. Three-four.
We found this wallet on him.
Lenny Starks. 19.
( camera shutter clicking )
That's a nasty burn.
What's your name again?
Thacker.
Detective Thacker, I need a scratch copy
of the complaint report and the M.E. number when it's done.
And do me a favor, will you?
Don't check out my ass
when a kid is dead in the street.
Have some respect.
Who was the last person to lease this office?
The landlord is checking the records.
Positive for GSR.
Sniper was right here.
Is that fingerprint on the inside or the outside?
Outside.
Inside now...
With our luck,
it'll come back the window washer.
Think positive, Stella.
They're arranging for a funeral
for Officer Valasquez.
It's a shame. How are you guys doing? Anything yet?
We're running
Touch Print right now.
You get anything from the park?
We sent the world out and got next to nothing.
I spoke to a lot
of eyewitnesses. I got everything under the sun.
He was shot from a tree.
He fell off his horse and shot himself.
One lady said aliens came down.
This city's full of nuts.
That's why we're scientists.
Richard Smockton.
Local. Has a record.
Five counts unlawful assembly.
Seven counts of disorderly conduct.
For what?
Staging protests for animals.
Animal activist?
Detective, you've got to help us out
with these hansom cabs.
These horses in Central Park
they work nine hours a day, seven days a week.
They live in...
Save the speech, sir.
You're already under arrest.
We have evidence of you being
on the ninth floor of the Patterson Building.
Office number three.
When's the last time
you were there?
Months ago.
My lease was up.
I rented the space for my society...
We don't want to hear it.
You okay, Mr. Smockton?
You're sweating and your hands are shaking.
I'm nervous.
FLACK: You should be.
You shot a cop.
A... cop...?
All right, just pull down the collar.
How long have you had
that goiter, Mr. Smockton?
Years.
I have hyperthyroidism.
Can you hold out your hands, please?
He's got Graves' Disease.
We can keep him in custody
until he's cleared, but chances are
he's not our shooter.
The symptoms of Graves' Disease
are hand tremors, perspiration,
blurred vision.
No way he's shooting a moving target
from a nine-story building.
HAWKES: Your victim most likely died
from significant trauma to the cranium.
See the movement?
Fractured cranium on the posterior
of the crown.
His head might have been in a vise of some sort.
See the side of his face?
Second degree burns with severe blistering
and destruction of the epidermis.
That's a pretty well-defined wound.
Contact burn?
Most likely.
The pattern doesn't look irregular
enough to have come from a flame.
There's shifting on the edges.
We sometimes see this
with iron burns in abuse cases.
Now, second degree burns tend to heal
from the edges inward. Healing on this vic
hasn't set in yet.
That means he was burned recently.
Exactly.
What are these two voids
on his face?
Something definitely
obstructed the burning of this region.
I'm going to examine this tissue
microscopically.
See if I can't find what burned him.
Thanks.
TAYLOR: Facial recognition.
Courtesy of Identa-Feature software.
Debuted in Super Bowl XXXV in Tampa.
You got a bead on somebody?
I'm working on it.
I'll let you know
why in a minute.
Measuring the distance between the eyes,
width of nose,
the jawline
and the chin.
Matching facial construction
against the NYPD
mug shot database.
Willie Chancey.
Bench warrant for unlicensed peddling.
Bag vendor.
What made you single him out of the crowd?
You found his cell phone.
They don't call me
eagle eye for nothing.
Take a look at this.
That's seconds before the altercation.
It's almost as if he's lining himself up for something.
MESSER: Picks a fight for no reason.
Maybe there is a reason.
Back it up.
Okay, stop.
Shooter's angle came from here...
Cell phone fighter was in the same line of sight.
You have an address on this guy?
Willie Chancey.
Prior address, no good.
He's a bag vendor, right?
Pull up his bookings.
They tend to work the same area.
Give me a cross street.
FLACK: Hey, how you doing?
You got any Kate Spade?
Son of a bitch!
( tires squealing )
Mr. Chancey, you missing a disposable cell phone?
Yeah. I lost it the other day.
We found it in the park.
Seems you lost it doing
one of your uppercuts.
Look, some British tourist--
you know, I... he was harassing me.
I sold him a handbag.
You know, one of the expensive designer kind.
He wanted his money back.
Of course it's a knock-off, man.
It's only 20 bucks.
Hey, I want...!
We have you on camera.
We know you picked a fight with him.
Not the other way around.
Y'all got it all wrong, man. He came at me.
Who were you on the phone with just before your altercation?
Some woman.
Wrong number.
We traced your cell phone earlier.
It also came back to a disposable phone.
Imagine that.
FLACK: Your last call lasted 18 minutes long.
What, was she giving you phone sex?
Yeah. You want the number?
This guy's good to go. Get him before the judge for his warrant.
Mr. Chancey.
Let me show you my limo.
Tom Mitford.
Just admiring your military photos.
Beirut' 83.
So, a District Attorney
in my office.
Should I close the door?
Yes.
So I got a call from the Captain over at Mounted.
He says that you're going to put down that horse.
The horse is going into surgery
to extract a key piece of evidence
in an ongoing
criminal investigation.
I know the widow who donated that horse.
She was married to Officer Como
who was killed in the line of duty.
Don Como-- seven years ago.
Shortly after he died, Mandi bought a horse
and donated Blue to the Mounted Police Unit
in memory of her husband.
I need a favor.
What kind of favor?
Mandi and her daughter
are flying back from California on the red-eye.
I don't want them coming home to a dead horse.
They've already lost enough.
I can't do that, Tom.
It's an open case.
The horse is scheduled to go into surgery
the second I file the paperwork.
Look, I'm not asking you
to stop the investigation.
I'm asking for morning. That's about six hours from now.
I can't promise anything.
If we find a weapon five minutes from now, all bets are off.
I'll take what I can get.
Stella, got your page.
I got good news and bad news.
Bad news first.
Okay, Willie Chancey's back on the street.
Lawyered up.
Went to court, saw a judge.
Cut him loose with a date to appear.
Probably in Siberia by now. The good news?
Flack went back in
Probably in Siberia by now. The good news?
Flack went back in
on Chancey's cell phone.
Remember we couldn't get a signal?
He got a live one
about a half an hour ago.
ESN of your mystery cell phone?
The electronic serial number is 9-8-D
9-0-0
7-1
4-6-2.
Live signal in Elmhurst, Queens.
With a lot of terminals and runways.
He's heading toward LaGuardia.
BONASERA: Let's make a call.
WOMAN: Ladies and gentlemen...
please turn off all cell phones at this time.
( phone ringing )
( ringing continues )
You going to answer that phone?
( ringing continues )
Hello.
Hang up. NYPD.
Mr. Brown, how do you know Willie Chancey?
I don't know any Willie Chanceys.
Mr. Brown, Willie Chancey was on a disposable cell phone,
much like the one you had in your possession,
minutes before Officer Valasquez
was shot by a sniper. in cold blood,
from the ninth floor of the Patterson Building.
The last call he made was to you. Can you explain?
I don't know what you're talking about.
Probably a wrong number,
That's funny.
That's exactly what Willie Chancey said.
TAYLOR: You were on your way
to Los Angeles. Why?
I was going to see my girl.
What's her name?
Jessica.
We're going to need to search your residence, Mr. Brown.
Then you'll need a warrant.
We're going to need to search your residence, Mr. Brown.
Then you'll need a warrant.
Already got one.
Mr. Brown, I have officers
sitting outside your residence.
They say they don't see
a car out front.
That's because I don't own a car, sir.
How'd you get to the airport?
I took a cab.
Sure you did.
Put your hand on the table.
Saccharomyces cerevisiae?
Baker's yeast.
What's this kid doing with baker's yeast
burnt into his face?
That's not all he has.
I prepared this one
for you next.
What's this now?
Cornmeal.
A mixture of burnt
and partially burnt cornmeal.
Baker's yeast and cornmeal.
That narrows it down, right?
There's got to be at least a dozen restaurants
within a block of Lexington and 94th Street.
No, I'm not thinking restaurants, though.
See how they're
individually burned?
If baker's yeast and cornmeal were part
of a recipe, the two ingredients
would have been baked together.
But they weren't.
The cornmeal granules were burnt for a reason.
I'm thinking pizza.
What's the closest pizza parlor
in the vicinity of Lex and 94th Street?
( sportscast playing )
Hey, what can I get you?
I'm Detective Burn from the crime lab.
I need to check out your oven.
I'm going to need you to step out of this area.
It's a crime scene now.
Hey, wait, what happened to your hand?
I burnt it.
I work around ovens.
May I see it?
Ow...
Second-degree burns.
When did this happen?
Three, four days ago.
No, this wound is fresh.
This happened in the last 24 hours.
Okay, I'm gonna need you to do two things for me now.
Shut down these ovens and take a seat.
How you doing?
Officer Burn, may I help you?
Yeah, you can help me by taking two steps back.
What are you, a cop?
Crime scene.
You're those guys with the little blue lights, right?
It's called an ALS.
I don't care what it's called.
Sir, take caution in your tone.
Yeah... here's the thing.
Why don't you take your microscope
and go down the street?
Shop's closed now.
Oh.
I'm sorry.
Hope I'm not interrupting.
Jane.
Not at all.
What are you doing down here?
Oh, I came to pick up some DNA samples.
What are you up to, Detective Taylor?
Saving the world, I presume.
Saving a horse, more like it.
The officer who was shot in the park?
Oh, right.
I'm making a 3-D replica of the bullet
that's still inside his horse.
Really?
Yeah, the animal's scheduled for surgery
in a couple of hours.
Every hour I give him,
the more strength he might have to pull through.
That's very noble of you.
You an animal lover?
Not particularly.
Just a scientist with a heart.
( machine whirring )
Still warm.
May I have it...
have it back?
Take care.
Hey.
You got something?
Military surplus SS-109 round.
Could've been fired from an AR-15 or M-16 assault rifle.
SS-109 is an armor- piercing round
with a tungsten carbide core.
It could easily pass through the body armor of an officer.
Good man.
So, where are you off to?
Jerald Brown's house.
You made a 3-D replica
of the bullet?
Z-Printer.
Ah.
Where's the bullet from the horse?
Still in the horse.
Oh.
What good does this do us?
We can't get stria off of it.
I'm doing a profile on the bullet
to get a better understanding of our shooter.
There's a killer running loose in New York City.
We can't afford to put a delay on the case.
No one's delaying the case, Stella.
We're not forensically there yet.
How's that?
Well, we don't have a weapon for one.
The bullet's only one-half
of the puzzle.
We need the bullet, Mac.
So we can run it through IBIS.
See if we can't get a hit to another case.
Which likely won't give us a name.
To get this guy we need the bullet and the weapon.
Forgive me, but taking the bullet out of the horse
is the first thing that should've been done.
And you should be searching Jerald Brown's house
for the weapon instead of arguing with me.
We need the bullet and the weapon to make an arrest.
Plain and simple, Stella.
Until then, the horse can stay alive
a couple more hours.
It's my call.
End of conversation.
Fine.
I'm gonna go tear up a house.
Service issued AR-15 semi-automatic
gas-operated shoulder- fired rifle.
Capable magazine capacity:
five to 40 rounds.
Jerald Brown left the rifle unmodified.
It's ready for fire.
All we need now is a bullet to compare it to.
In Stella talk, it's time to get the bullet
out of the horse, Mac.
End of conversation.
( neighs )
It's okay, Blue.
Bye, Blue.
Say hello to my daddy up in heaven, okay?
Hey, boy.
( Blue neighs )
It's all right, Blue.
If I would've went for my radio or my gun,
I might not have gotten out of there.
You did the right thing.
But the second you find something, you call for backup.
You're processing evidence that could put someone
behind bars for life.
You take nothing or no one for granted.
Yeah, well, I didn't.
And believe me, this place was no more a pizza joint
than a church in Hell's Kitchen.
A pizzeria
as a front for booking sports.
That's commonplace in this city.
So... your victim's a sports bettor?
He's just...
He's just a kid.
All I know is if he crossed this guy,
I'm not surprised how he ended up.
It's your first threat, Aiden, it won't be your last.
So...
take backup, you go back to the scene,
you face it head on, follow the evidence.
And if for some reason,
you need a little help with this Nick Vicenzo,
don't forget the rule.
The surgery was successful.
We're happy to say Blue's going to make it.
We were very careful with the bullet.
I'll tell my daughter the good news.
STELLA: Test fire on the left, bullet from the horse on the right.
No match.
Doesn't make sense.
Got a sniper on the phone minutes before the murder.
We found a weapon that's capable of penetrating through
the protective vest, and it's no match.
This case is going backwards.
Willie Chancey,
Richard Smockton, Jerald Brown.
We tested all these guys' hands for gunshot residue
and none of them came out positive.
Either we don't have a shooter yet
or these guys lathered up before we got to them.
( cell phone rings )
Detective Taylor.
Airport security and I have been
sweeping the parking lot looking for Jerald Brown's car.
We found something in Willie Chancey's car instead.
Willie Chancey.
He got shot in the trunk.
MESSER: Hey, Stella,
come here, will you?
What's up?
Car's turned off, the windshield wipers are on high,
radio is on full blast,
and who keeps the A.C. on max in the winter?
What do you think, it's a trap?
Maybe a secret compartment inside the car.
A few grand to install.
Used to hide drugs and money.
Weapons.
Let's pimp this ride.
All right, here we go.
Got a plate trap under the backseat.
See the dent in the metal?
Nice.
( starts engine )
I'll turn the car on.
All right, now, the traps are usually activated electronically
by the positioning of the knobs.
How do we figure out the combination?
Process of elimination-- starting with
the knobs that were out of place.
In our case, the wiper,
the A.C. and the radio.
All right, start with the A.C. on,
wipers on, radio off.
MESSER: No.
Uh, A.C. on, wipers off, radio on.
BONASERA: All right, A.C. off,
radio off, wipers on.
Aw, screw it! Just turn everything on.
Rat bastard.
( horn honks )
AR-15,
in pieces.
Oh, yeah.
Hey, who's gonna
put it together?
That won't be a problem, my friend.
Put your cigarettes out.
( men chuckling )
( sighs )
You want me to come around the counter again?
No, actually, stay back there.
Sit down.
Take a seat.
BURN: Put your finger
on this picture, please.
Don't look at him.
Put your finger on top of the picture, please.
You think I did this?
You can step out now.
Thacker, could you help me over here, please?
You got it.
Okay.
So the pizza girl burnt her right hand, right?
That's right.
If she held the kid's head with her right hand
and tried to close the door with her left...
she couldn't have smashed his head
with the oven door.
No way.
It's impossible.
Mr. Vicenzo, we're closing
your little sports book pizzeria.
In case you didn't know, betting sports is illegal
in New York City, so tell all your pizza lovers
to go to A.C. if they want some action.
I'll be sure to do that.
I pulled two sets
of prints from the oven bar at your pizzeria.
They came back
to your pizza girl and you.
What do you have to say about that, Nick?
It's my joint.
Must've been when I heated up those slices for lunch.
Right.
Well, according to the preliminary autopsy report,
Lenny Starks suffered moderate head trauma.
You slammed Lenny Starks' head
with the oven door.
Lenny walked three blocks
and later was stabbed to death.
By you.
Whoa. Whoa, whoa.
Wait a minute.
Stabbed?
Me?
Yeah...
I gave Lenny a little lesson in paying up,
but I didn't stab him.
I knocked some sense into the kid.
You owe me ten G's.
What am I gonna do with this, wipe my nose?!
Open the oven.
Open it!
You little degenerate.
( man and woman screaming )
That's it.
He left on his own two feet.
You know what one of the greatest rules is of an investigator?
We can lie to suspects, legally.
There never was a stabbing.
According to the autopsy report, Lenny Starks died
from an epidural hematoma in the posterior fossa region.
That's behind the ear, in case you didn't know.
And you're right, that kid did leave on his own two feet.
Three blocks later, he died on 'em.
That kid experienced delayed deterioration.
Like a boxer who took too many blows.
You killed him.
And now it's your turn to go down the street.
Investigation's closed.
Run this, please.
BONASERA: Here we go again.
Test fire on the left.
Bullet from the horse on the right.
It's a match.
Jerald Brown.
You were in the Army.
Sergeant. E-5.
Qualification:
marksman.
Years of service: two.
Dishonorable discharge
for willfully disobeying orders during Desert Storm,
where you were reduced to an E-1.
What do you expect from the white man's army, man?
We had hostiles in the building five klicks away from base camp.
So we went in and took them out.
And we know for a fact
they murdered ten women and children.
According to your file,
you disobeyed a direct order.
The chain of command
is sacrosanct, Mr. Brown-- I'm a Marine; I know.
Endangering lives against
explicit orders is unconscionable.
I did what I thought was right.
And I'd do it again.
You did it again.
Why don't I start the story for you?
This is a print we found
on the rifle inside Willie Chancey's car.
Your print.
We found Willie,
your accomplice, dead in the trunk of that same car.
We suspect he became a threat, and you had to shut him up.
Your military record has set you at an intelligence level
of Interim Secret-- that's about as smart as they come.
Now, I've confirmed that you and Willie Chancey
were on disposable cell phones with each other
minutes before the murder.
Willie was the lure.
What's up, old man? What's up?
Hey! Yo, Officer, right here!
You were the shooter.
( gunshot )
And finally...
this is the bullet that killed
the officer you shot.
Along with the test fire bullet
from your AR-15.
Ballistics...
confirms.
Willie wanted to go to the cops.
He got cold feet...
so I shot him.
But he hated cops as much as I did.
Why?
But he hated cops as much as I did.
Why?
My father-- Willie's uncle--
was accused of drug possession in '03.
Completely trumped-up charges
by a cop that we now know was crooked.
Maybe you can say he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Before he could even get a court date,
he was frickin' shivved in jail,
over a card game.
He should've never been there in the first place.
What did the mounted officer have to do with it?
Was he the one who put your father away?
Willie and I just picked any pig cop.
An eye for an eye.
You shot a New York City police officer.
He wasn't just a cop.
He was somebody's son.
He made somebody proud at home.
When you shot him through the back,
you shot those people through the heart.
From where I stand...
you're the one that should be put to death.
No trial. No jury.
Eye for an eye.
Hey.
I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about the horse.
Forget it.
We haven't had a fight like that in a long time.
Reminds me of the old Mac Taylor.
What old Mac Taylor is that?
The one who let his heart out of his chest every once in a while.
You're a fine CSI, Stella.
I can honestly say, I wouldn't do this job without you.
Yes, you would.
You just wouldn't be as good.
Maybe.
Friends?
Friends.