(violin playing lively tune)
(breathing heavily)
(indistinct chatter)
♪ ♪
Join the party!
Oh!
Please!
Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?
Stop! Stop!
Hey! Hey!
(woman moans)
Hey! Hey!
(woman moans)
(thuds)
(sirens wailing)
Caucasian female, no I.D.
(shutters clicking)
What, the carnival in town?
FLACK: It's a renegade street party.
Ever since the city put
restrictions on public gatherings,
they've been popping up all over town.
I say she's a little overdressed for the occasion.
Ballerina on stilts over there
said she just wandered over to him
and dropped.
No idea where she came from.
What time'd the party start?
Midnight.
We're taking statements from everyone.
So far, no one saw anything suspicious.
Multiple lacerations to the face and skull.
COD appears to be blunt force trauma.
Looks like she left us some clues.
MAC: And they're deadly.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fight for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪
Captioning sponsored by CBS and CSI NY PRODUCTIONS
(cars zooming by)
(siren whoops)
(shutter clicking)
MESSER: Hey, Mac,
got some kind of plastic shards here.
I'm not sure what they are.
Danny, the city's got a streaming
surveillance camera near here,
corner of Hogan and Lafayette.
MESSER: All right, I'll go check that out.
There's some bloody tissue
on our vic's bracelet.
No defensive wounds on her hands or wrists.
FLACK: Canvass found
the vic's wallet in a storm drain around the corner.
There's a photo ID inside.
Here name is Ann Steele.
Blackberry was found in the bushes
a couple of feet away.
BONASERA: Ostrich skin, pretty pricey.
Corporate jet access card,
board member of the Manhattan Conservatory,
Scorpion Room VIP.
Key card for Wickfield Condominiums.
Sounds like a real mover and a shaker.
No cash or credit cards.
Could've just found our motive.
If it was a robbery,
why toss the Blackberry?
The wallet? Expensive items.
Maybe he was just plain stupid?
I'll flag the credit cards.
Keep 'em active.
Hey, found her business card.
"Ann Steele, Professional Consultant."
There's nothing listed in her calendar for last night.
What? What is it?
Chief Sinclair.
The last call
was to him two hours before she died.
(clattering)
Hey, what are you doing in here?!
(clanging)
Stop!
Get me security!
We searched every office and every floor.
So far, no sign of an intruder.
I want someone posted at every exit
in case he's still in the building.
Done.
Any idea how he got in?
Security guard said he flashed a badge
and claimed he had to ID a body.
What kind of badge?
Said he didn't
get a good look at it.
He's already been replaced.
Sid, you have a description?
Uh, Caucasian, around six feet tall,
black jeans, black shoes; he was wearing a hoodie,
so I didn't get a real clear look at a face.
And he had on a pair of surgical gloves.
Means no fingerprints.
I don't suppose you have any idea
what he was doing in here?
He was hovering around the body when I came in.
I got a partial shoe print.
I had already sent
Steele's clothes and belongings upstairs,
so unless he was into necrophilia,
your guess is as good as mine.
Okay.
We get an image of the intruder on surveillance?
No, it looked like he deliberately
turned his back toward the camera.
That didn't raise suspicions
with the security cop on duty?
He's not a cop, Mac.
He's one of those private hires they're phasing in.
The guy's basically just a warm body with a badge.
Pulling experienced NYPD officers off posts
and replacing them with undertrained civilians.
I'd like to smack the pencil-pushing bureaucrat
who came up with that brilliant idea.
That would be me, Detective Taylor.
Chief Sinclair.
(cell phone ringing)
Go on, you were just saying?
(cell phone ringing)
Go on, you were just saying?
Yeah, it's Flack.
Look Chief, I know the city's having
a few fiscal problems...
A $4 billion deficit is more than a problem.
It's a crisis.
Hey, Mac.
Got some activity on Ann Steele's credit card.
Chief.
Ann Steele.
Mayor called me
at 5:00 this morning when he got word.
He wants this case moved to the top of the pile.
Is that why you dropped by? Tell me how to do my job?
I heard you had a break-in this morning.
That's why I came by.
If lab security hadn't been farmed out
to the lowest bidder, you might've saved
yourself a trip.
For every NYPD salary we no longer pay,
we can hire three new civilians.
You do the math, Detective.
The phrase is "bottom line."
Three people for one.
And if lab security is vulnerable,
every piece of evidence we process
can be called into question.
What's the bottom line on that?
I understand your frustration.
I get orders from the top, just like you.
I don't have to like them.
I just have to make them happen.
"Do more with less."
Seems you tell me that every year.
And yet every year, you seem to accomplish it.
In the next few weeks,
you'll be receiving recommendations
for additional budget cuts.
Look, Chief, I don't...
It's the new reality, Taylor.
Get used to it.
Now what can you tell me about this, uh, this intruder?
I'm more interested in what you can tell me.
About the victim.
This is Ann Steele's cell phone.
She called you two hours before her death.
What was that about?
She left a message saying she had a parking ticket
she needed taken care of.
So you knew her?
Your e-mail address is also in here.
We shook hands at a press conference,
a couple of charity auctions.
She earned her living by making connections.
A man like you would be a great resource
to a woman like that.
Trust me.
Ann had access to people a lot more powerful than me.
Her business card said she was a "consultant."
That's a pretty generic
title considering the company she kept.
Any idea what type of consultant she was?
Rumor is she fixed problems.
You know, made things go away.
I take it we're not talking overdue tax returns.
Why don't you stick to the science on this, Mac.
I'll take care of the politics.
Why do I get the feeling you know
more than you're telling me?
Because you're a cop.
Just remember, I'm your boss.
♪ ♪
The tissue from the vic's bracelet
is some kind of synthetic polymer.
It isn't human.
Hmm, well, the hair I found
on her nylons is.
Results are female. Not a match to our vic.
Maybe it's a random hair from the street party?
The hair was enmeshed in her nylon.
I'm thinking close physical contact.
FLACK: Stella, we got a hit
on Ann Steele's platinum card.
Someone just used it to buy
an amplifier.
Have Adam
an amplifier.
Have Adam
analyze that polymer.
We know what it isn't, let's find out what it is.
♪ ♪
Okay, folks, show's over.
Give me these.
Hey, I'm in the middle of my thing.
Yeah? So are we.
Hey, I'm in the middle of my thing.
Yeah? So are we.
It's called homicide investigation.
STELLA: Do you know this woman?
Never seen her.
No?
How'd you get her credit card?
I didn't.
You used it
to buy that amp on your back
at Conran Electronics.
You were stupid enough
to forget your business card on the counter.
Hey, hey, what are you doing?
The woman in that picture, she's dead.
Okay, just 'cause I used someone's card
doesn't make me a murderer.
But it does make you guilty of grand larceny.
Okay, okay, I...
I found the card in the street.
Which street?
Downtown.
I was at some party thing.
Then that lady dropped dead, everyone was freaking out.
I took off, found the card on my way home.
Why'd you leave? Did you have something to hide?
My roller skates were giving me a blister.
Where were you before
the street party, Mr. Scissorhands?
Just before midnight.
I was on the six train from Astor Place.
Anyone who can corroborate that?
Zach Rosenthal.
We took the train to the party together.
Stilt-walking ballerina.
I never thought I'd
say this, but I got some hot
hula hoop action on the city surveillance tape.
I thought the murder happened
before the party?
Right.
before the party?
Right.
There's Ann Steele.
Yeah. Okay.
Let's go back to the crime.
(monitor beeping)
Time code puts it at 11:55.
Right around the time of the murder.
Okay, the newspaper dispenser
where the vic was killed is over here.
HAWKES: All I see is
a parked van.
Yeah, and it's
blocking the view of the crime scene,
is right behind the van.
So much for Big Brother.
Hang on. Looks like there's a light in that building
across the street, something in the window.
I'm going in.
HAWKES: It's a woman,
and she's facing the direction of the crime scene.
In fact, based on that angle,
she's staring right at it.
Any luck, we just caught ourselves an eyewitness.
Can't remember her name.
Sorry. I was, uh, pretty loaded last night.
Did you hear anything unusual outside-- any running,
screaming, say around midnight?
No, nothing. What's this about?
How about your friend there? She was in the window.
Did she mention seeing anything?
Not that I remember.
Where'd you meet her?
Um, at a bar.
Bar? Which bar?
Blue Tail,
I think.
So, uh, where'd you get this photo?
I mean, um, why are you looking for her?
We think she might have witnessed a crime.
What kind of crime?
We're asking the questions.
What time did she leave?
Um, around 12:30.
I don't know.
I passed out.
All right, do me a favor.
You hear from her again,
tell her we want to talk to her.
No problem.
Thanks.
I'll pop by the Blue Tail,
see if anyone recognizes her.
(sirens blaring)
Hey.
Sheldon.
(laughs)
Greg Pullman.
Where have you been, man?
Holed up in a bunker with no cell phone service?
Oh, my law firm thinks less than 80 hours a week is slouching.
How about you? You still at the Medical Examiner's Office?
Ah. No, I moved over to the Crime Scene Unit
a few years ago.
Oh, you're an authority figure
now, huh?
(both laugh)
now, huh?
(both laugh)
Hey, you, um... you on the Ann Steele case?
Yeah. You know about her?
Yeah, she wiretapped
a client of ours, got him busted for extortion.
We call her the female Pelicano.
I guess us lab rats never knew how important she was.
Not important, but powerful.
You get your hands on her files,
you'd be set for life.
Or maybe you already have?
I can't talk about an active case.
Yeah, right.
Yeah.
Anyways, when this is over,
I got some stories for you.
Woman had her fingers in a lot of pies.
My old man's included.
Lowell? Wow. How's he doing?
Ah. He had a bypass last year,
but you know him.
He was up chasing nurses in a week.
Will you tell him I said hello?
I will.
Good.
I will.
Thank you. It was good seeing you, Greg.
Good to see you, too.
Okay, man.
Take care.
Hey!
Yeah?
Yeah, I had a, uh, trial
scheduled tomorrow, but they settled.
Wouldn't hurt to celebrate.
Why don't we hit a bar, see what kind of trouble we can get into?
Come on. You look in the mirror lately?
We're not in college anymore.
Oh, come on, Sheldon.
I promise we won't do anything you can't get us out of.
Let's just go have a drink like old times. Ah.
All right.
Tanner's at 8:00.
Tanner's.
I'll see you there.
Okay.
TAYLOR: Well, you tell your boss
I don't care how much money he makes or what his title is.
I come across evidence of criminal activity,
I'm going to act on it.
Bye.
Can I interrupt a sec?
This phone has not stopped ringing all morning.
Anyone Ann Steele ever laid eyes on
is calling to see what we got.
This case is making a lot of people nervous.
What do you have?
No luck finding the witness in the window.
I spoke to the bartender
and several employees at the Blue Tail Bar.
None of them recognized her or Trevor Jones.
She didn't just vanish into thin air.
We have her on surveillance camera.
Someone had to see her somewhere.
We're canvassing the neighborhood with her photo.
I'll keep you posted.
All right.
(phone ringing)
(phone beeps on)
Hi.
I got a CODIS hit
Hi.
I got a CODIS hit
on the hair I found in Ann Steele's nylons.
Belonged to a Jan Fowler.
Seventeen.
We have an address?
No.
She's been in the Connecticut Missing Persons database
for the past two years.
And there's more.
Connecticut PD had no leads on Jan Fowler's whereabouts, so,
since the hair I found on the vic's nylons is all we have,
I did an isotopic breakdown on it.
(trilling)
TAYLOR: Proportions of hydrogen
and oxygen isotopes in her hair indicate
she'd been living in Boston.
Right, so I contacted Boston PD.
I told them she was a lead suspect in a homicide.
They faxed me this.
She died of a drug overdose?
Over a year ago.
How'd a dead woman's hair get on Ann Steele's nylons?
(horns honking, train cars rattling)
Hey, have you seen Mac?
Oh, not recently. Why? What's up?
Oh, I got an I.D. on the footprint
from the autopsy room.
Intruder wore a size ten
Nike Air, black.
No trace or DNA.
Great. I'll pass it on.
Oh, you have a... Uh.
Oh.
Oh, you have a... Uh.
Oh.
It was an eyelash.
Okay, um,
you know the synthetic
polymer you extracted from Ann Steele's bracelet?
Well, I-I magnified it
400 times.
Tell me what you see.
I see some kind of liquid
in between the cellular structure.
It's cholesterol.
An oil. Naturally occurring.
Right. So we have stratified cells suspended
in an oily matrix.
It's skin.
But the cells have no nuclei.
Well, it's not just any skin.
It's synthetic skin. In fact,
it's high grade, Japanese silicone skin.
They use it to protect keyboards
and electronic devices from scuffs and scratches.
So what was it doing on our vic's bracelet?
Uh...
I mean, I-I can...
I can figure that out.
♪ ♪
I got some kind of plastic shards here.
I'm not sure what they are.
(trilling)
MESSER: Looks like the top of a lipstick tube.
That's what I thought.
(trilling)
It's a flash drive cover.
Got the specs from the manufacturer.
64 gigabytes of storage capacity.
Yeah.
That's bigger than my old laptop.
And this is just the cover. Question is:
Where's the actual drive?
Wasn't recovered at the scene
or on the vic.
Ann Steele was a fixer.
Maybe the information on that drive
had something to do with her murder?
It could also have something to do
with the break-in at the ME's office.
Someone out there is still looking for it.
Yeah, well, we need to find it first.
I'm go go check out her apartment.
All right.
(horns honking)
MESSER: All right, Ann Steele's apartment
should be right around this corner.
What is this? No super to greet us?
(laughs): This kind of money,
they're not called supers, all right?
They're called concierges.
Oh, yeah?
And they use key cards instead of keys.
(metallic clattering and glass clinking)
Did you hear that?
(beep)
NYPD.
(grunting)
Where you going?
(grunting)
Where you going?
(man grunts)
Don't move.
You got him?
Anthony Martino,
private investigator.
Private investigator, huh?
FLACK: Mr. Martino, I see you were on the force
for six years before you became a P.I.
Why'd you leave?
Drugs?
Gambling?
Money.
When was the last time you looked at your paycheck?
Nice dogs you got there.
What are those, Nike Airs?
I'm gonna guess. Size ten?
This is NYC.
Lot of guys wear these.
But a lot of guys weren't caught
burglarizing a dead woman's apartment.
Unoccupied dwelling, Detective.
Right.
Most I'll get is burglary three.
Right.
Most I'll get is burglary three.
And that'll get pled down to criminal trespassing.
Times two.
'Cause those sneakers are gonna tie you
into the break-in at the M.E.'s office.
Should wear booties
next time.
Thanks. I'll make a note of that.
What were you looking for?
Your sister.
Oh!
(laughs): That's funny.
I don't have a sister.
Let me rephrase the question
for you.
Who are you working for?
People.
Yo, people who?
People who are gonna make sure I don't do any time for this.
The man who ransacked Ann Steele's apartment
is the same man we found nosing around our autopsy lab.
His name's Anthony Martino.
He's a P.I. and former NYPD.
Yeah. Martino. He's a bottom feeder.
He tell you what he was after?
Someone's payroll is keeping him quiet.
We think he wanted Ann Steele's flash drive.
Since he couldn't find it the first time,
he broke into her apartment
hoping he'd have better luck there.
That's just it.
He didn't break into her apartment.
He used an access card.
So far, he's bypassed security in two different buildings,
and managed to evade surveillance.
And you're thinking there's an inside connect.
Someone high up has to be pulling the strings.
Last year, that sexual harassment case
that was filed against you
went away overnight,
like it never happened.
You be careful, Taylor.
Don't make accusations you can't back.
Did Steele fix that for you?
Is that why your name was in her Blackberry?
It was a false accusation.
I have kids, a good marriage.
Things worth protecting.
You didn't answer my question.
I don't have to.
You saw the names on her contact list.
Any one of them could have been behind this.
If that flash drive falls in the wrong hands,
it'll cause more fallout than you can handle, Mac.
(keyboard keys clicking, beeping)
Adam, you wanted to see us?
Jan Fowler's dead, right?
Right.
So I started wondering
how a dead woman's hair could cross state lines,
and end up on Ann Steele's nylons.
So I looked into the mortuary in Boston
that processed her body...
BONASERA: Wait a second. I thought
you were working on the silicone
we found on Steele's bracelet?
No. I-I am. I mean, I-I was,
but I think it all just ties in together.
Here, take a look.
This mortuary in particular was under investigation
for selling body parts.
Among other things, they sold...
Human hair.
Now, there were a couple places in New York
that they were doing business with.
And I found this link to one of them.
(typing)
REBECCA (over computer): Have you ever wondered
what it would be like to find the perfect woman?
Welcome to the world of high-end designer dolls.
Hey, girl, what's your sign?
Now, our clientele are mostly single men
who want female companionship without the complications
of a human relationship.
Now, a typical doll runs around $6,000.
Well, we're looking for...
We've got ten different
female body types and 16 faces.
Not to mention skin tone, eye color, makeup.
We're more interested in hair.
Blonde hair.
We've got every color.
Blonde hair.
We've got every color.
All shades and styles.
Actually, what we need is a list of your clients
that bought dolls with blonde hair.
Your customer list.
We've got over 4,000 of them.
And it's because of the skin.
It's almost like the real thing.
Since 2007,
we've been using this
incredible new material...
Japanese silicone.
incredible new material...
Japanese silicone.
Yes!
How about we narrow down
your customer list?
BONASERA: Exactly.
Blonde dolls with Japanese silicone skin
that were sold in New York City.
There's a confidentiality issue there.
Most of our clients are quite secretive about their dolls.
That's why God created warrants.
♪ Picture you upon my knee ♪
♪ Tea for two... ♪
I know what you're thinking.
MONROE: What?
That I have carnal relations with them.
No, I wasn't, uh, thinking that.
MAN: Well, I-I don't.
I was raised to be a gentleman.
So, um...
Oh, um, this is Akiko,
Vanessa and Melody.
She's new to our family.
Ladies.
When I come home from a hard day's work,
they are always here for me.
They give me a sense of peace and comfort
that I've never been quite able to achieve with a human female.
Mr. Gorem, we're not here to pass judgment, really.
We're looking for a blonde doll.
Company that makes these said that
you bought one about a year ago.
GOREM: Tiffany.
She-she had a bit of an attitude problem,
so I-I found her a new home.
Where?
On the Internet.
There's a site for doll devotees.
We trade grooming tips,
first date stories,
we even trade the dolls.
Who'd you trade with?
I don't recall his name, but he took Tiffany
and gave me lovely Melody in return.
She's a much better fit for us.
Although she doesn't really like to watch TV.
(chuckles)
We're going to need your computer.
Maybe there's an online record of the transaction.
Okay.
You know what?
Mr. Gorem, we're also going to need
to borrow Melody.
Uh, b-b-borrow her?
It's possible that she's carrying DNA
from her previous owner.
And if you can't remember
his name, we're gonna need to
take her and do a few tests.
Tests? Where?
At our lab.
Can I at least
At our lab.
Can I at least
come with her?
She is very fragile.
Don't worry.
We'll be gentle.
Wow.
Thanks.
Okay, how weird was that?
There's no way that one of these can replace a real woman.
Oh, I don't know, Linds.
They're not bad-looking.
Think of all the money a guy could
save on dinner.
A doll?!
I mean, I could understand
if you dumped me for
a real woman but a piece of plastic?!
What does she have that I don't have, huh?
Forgive my wife.
She's not well.
I'm gonna get you for that, Monroe.
Big-time.
A city of 12 million, and people need mannequins
to keep them company.
I mean, what does that say about where we are as a species?
I don't know.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around this removable tongue.
I've got a print.
ROSS: Whoa.
Hey, what's up, Adam?
Uh, n-nothing, I, um...
You know, wondering if you guys need
some, uh... swabs or something.
BONASERA: No, I think we got it all
under control here, Adam, thanks.
God, she's so-- I mean, I've never
seen one in real life before.
It's so realistic.
Can I touch her?
Adam.
Oh.
Uh...
I'm going.
Red hair.
We're almost finished,
Melody.
Done.
(computer beeps)
Hey, I got a match on the print.
Belongs to a Trevor Jones.
He works for the Attorney General's office.
By day.
Trades dolls by night.
Talk about a secret life.
Wait a minute. Isn't that the guy
that Danny and Flack talked to?
Right.
that Danny and Flack talked to?
Right.
The blonde mystery witness was looking out of his window
at the time of the murder.
What kind of a person watches a murder
and then doesn't come forward?
One without a voice.
Miss us?
Whoa, whoa!
You can't just barge in here, not without a warrant.
Oh, look what I got.
Where's your girlfriend, Trev?
What girlfriend?
The rubber one.
Danny, silicone.
Oh, sorry, right, silicone.
TREVOR: You guys mind telling me what this is about?
OFFICER: Detectives.
MESSER: This is what it's about. Wow.
(chuckles)
It's not what you think, all right?
Some of the guys at work got her for me
as a joke.
FLACK: Right.
And she's been under your bed collecting dust
ever since.
(sighs)
I think we just found our mystery witness.
Here we go.
(indistinct radio chatter)
Oh, it's her all right.
You can't take her; she's my property.
Now she's ours.
No, no, no, wait.
I mean, why-why are you taking her?
What does she have to do with this?
If the girlfriend's hair and silicone
match our evidence,
it puts the victim in your apartment.
So?
FLACK: So you told us
you never met Ann Steele before.
That would mean you lied.
Ah. We'll take a ride
downtown and talk about this.
Yeah, see, that's why boys shouldn't play with dolls.
GREG (laughing): I know that story.
(laughs)
Here's to old times.
(chuckles): Whoa.
And to that brunette at 2:00.
(chuckles)
Man, you haven't changed a bit.
Sure I have.
Now I could afford to buy her a drink.
And a Mercedes.
(laughs)
And you got to be doing al right,
they put you on this Ann Steele case.
Why do you keep bringing her up?
Yeah, I'm sorry.
I should've told you this earlier.
The old man, he screwed up pretty bad a few months back.
He tried to push some money around
and got mixed up in this bribery scandal.
Ann Steele mopped up the mess.
Okay, so what's the problem?
She kept all her client's files on flash drives.
Had more than enough to bury my old man.
Why are you telling me?
I guess I'm gonna have to put it out there.
If you happen to
come across any evidence
that's tied to my dad, he'd appreciate your discretion.
And your help.
So bumping into you outside my office,
that wasn't an accident.
I didn't know where else to turn.
And honestly, all you're gonna have to do
is just delete any information pertaining to him.
I don't have to do anything.
Come on, it's not like
it's connected to Steele's murder.
It doesn't matter.
It's tampering with evidence.
And you know I can't do that.
(sighs)
And you know I can't do that.
(sighs)
Legally, no.
But morally...
You remember your last year
of medical school-- that scholarship you got?
Yeah, what about it?
It was donated to the school
on your behalf by my father.
Lowell paid my tuition?
He wanted to do it.
He believed in you.
He thought you were headed for great things.
And you know what?
He was right.
He was happy to be there for you
when you needed help, and now,
it's your turn to do the same.
I don't like how this is sounding, Greg.
Now, if it's true,
I appreciate what your father did for me.
But that was his decision, not mine.
And I don't owe him anything.
Hey, Sheldon!
Remember her?
Nah, you were drunk.
Right.
Were you drunk when you killed her,
or you sober up by then?
I don't recognize her.
Her name is Ann Steele.
Hair we found on her nylon
is a match to your little doll.
Silicone on her bracelet,
also a match to your doll.
I was drunk.
I didn't remember her face.
Why don't you tell us what you do remember.
All right, I met her at a bar,
took her back to my apartment.
We were in the living room fooling around.
She asked if I could go into the kitchen and get us some wine.
When I came back,
I couldn't find her.
Who the hell is that?
Uh, I-I can explain.
It's um, see, it's just a doll.
Oh, God, you're some kind of freak.
No, no, no, I can explain.
I'm out of here, pervert!
Wait a minute, wait!
I swear, that was the last I saw of her.
So you just let her go?
Taking your kinky, little secret with her?
That's my story.
And I'm sure the jury will be
just as entertained as we were.
Hey, if you play your cards right,
you might even be able to swing
some conjugal visits with Tiffany.
You might be able to prove this woman was in my apartment,
but you can't prove I killed her.
In fact, you don't even have enough to arrest me.
Not yet.
Have a good night.
You got it.
(grunting)
Come on, let's get out of here.
Run!
Go, go!
(car horns honking)
Trevor Jones just walked.
Whoa.
What the hell happened?
A couple guys jumped me outside my apartment.
What do you mean guys? What guys?
That's what I'm trying to find out.
Were they after your wallet?
What?
I'll fill you in later.
What?
I'll fill you in later.
What happened with Jones?
Uh, well, we got no blood,
nothing to tie him to the actual murder.
What about Steele's flash drive?
We find that on Trevor, that's as good a connection as any.
There was no sign of it in his apartment.
I checked everywhere. Twice.
Well, if it was worth killing over,
I doubt he would've just dumped it. Huh?
All right, so the question is:
Where do you hide something that valuable?
Maybe someplace
you thought no one would ever look.
♪ Always wanted to take it back ♪
♪ Can't ever hold on to that ♪
♪ Get it from those gangster... ♪
♪ And you are on your way now ♪
♪ On the move, you never snack ♪
♪ That's the way, crack attack ♪
♪ Must remain around again and you are on your way ♪
♪ Come alive ♪
♪ Almost in a state of panic ♪
♪ Runs around, really static ♪
♪ Just enough, not an out ♪
♪ That you are on your way now ♪
♪ On and on until it's gone ♪
♪ Go and get another one ♪
♪ Think that should add to a song ♪
♪ Nothing left to sing ♪
♪ Come alive ♪
♪ Come alive. ♪
Hey, Mac,
I found the flash drive in the doll
we confiscated from Trevor Jones.
Hmm. From the looks of you, she put up a hell of a fight.
Yeah, The damn wall at the gym got in my way.
You get anything we can use?
Jones' prints.
Traces of Steele's blood.
She definitely downloaded information off his computer.
And when he found out about it, he killed her for it.
I can think of a few tabloid editors who'd kill for it, too.
Sexual allegations, bribery, blackmail.
You name it, Steele was into it.
I don't need to remind you
that what you saw on this drive stays between me and you?
No worries. You know I got your back.
And I got yours.
Why don't you tell me about that wall that hit you?
Okay.
A so-called friend wanted me
to mess with that flash drive, and I refused.
His dad helped me out
in medical school, and he thought I owed him.
You know, I could have given him what he wanted.
It wouldn't have affected the case, but I didn't do it.
I just couldn't.
Well, you didn't have to tell me that, Sheldon,
but thanks.
(horns honking)
TAYLOR: You killed Ann Steele
for her flash drive.
She said that was lipstick.
We found secret files on it
pertaining to the attorney general's office.
Files she stole from your computer.
She didn't know who I worked for.
She came onto me in a random bar.
Because she needed access to your home computer.
She knew exactly who you worked for.
She played you, Trevor.
No, it wasn't like that.
What are you doing?
Oh, I-I dropped my lipstick.
Let me help you.
No, I see it, I see it.
I didn't touch her.
You didn't wonder
what she'd been doing in your bedroom?
And after she left,
you didn't notice that your computer was on?
That files had been breeched?
And you didn't chase her down in the street like an animal?
Bash her in the head to get back what she'd stolen?
No.
Give me the flash drive.
No.
Hey, give it to me.
Give it to me.
No.
(loud thud, Ann groaning)
(panting)
You didn't do any of that?
No, I didn't.
Well, then, how do you explain
that your prints and the victim's blood
are all over her flash drive?
Maybe I picked it up.
Yeah, I-I think I picked it up.
The blood is under your prints.
The only way that could have happened is if you killed her.
(sighs)
You may think I'm a monster,
but when I got home,
and I read the files on Ann Steele's flash drive,
I realized who the real monsters in this city are.
They're the people sitting in the board rooms,
running the courts,
riding in the ticker tape parades.
What are you going to do about them?
They didn't commit murder, Trevor.
You did.
(horns honking, siren blaring)
(horns honking)
Pullman!
Hey, you look terrible. What happened to you?
Save it, Greg. I know it was you.
And the next time you hire a bunch of thugs,
you should make sure they don't have a criminal records.
We've already picked one up, and he's flipping on you
as we speak.
When you called me, you said you had something for me.
For your dad.
Wasn't exactly the payback I was hoping for.
You find the flash drive?
And I read all about your father,
and everything he did to win construction bids--
extortion, bribes, threats--
and to think I used to look up to him.
Spare me the morality lecture, Shel.
What are you going to do with the information?
I put it some place where you can't get your hands on it.
You've got to be kidding.
You're kidding me, right?
What do you want? You want money?
Is that it?
Just make sure you give your dad that check
before you get hauled off to jail.
(horns honking)
(computer chirping)
I heard you broke the case.
My guess is, you didn't come all the way down here
to congratulate me.
I'd like to take a look at the flash drive.
It's on its way to the evidence warehouse.
You don't waste any time.
Well, since security at this lab is now in question,
I thought it'd be safer off site.
For everyone concerned.
If there's something on your mind,
say it straight, Mac.
You lied to me, Chief.
You said that sexual harassment
charge against you was false.
I also told you not to make accusations you can't back.
Your file is on that flash drive.
You paid Ann Steele $25,000 to keep that woman quiet.
Because I didn't want it tried in the court of public opinion.
It would come down to her word against mine.
Innocence and guilt
don't matter.
Suspicion is enough.
At the time, I thought
I had something worth protecting-- my marriage.
At the time?
When that flash drive disappeared, I panicked.
I knew the fact that I had paid Steele
would make it look like I was guilty,
but I wasn't.
You told your wife.
She's leaving me, Mac.
When I think back on it,
she hasn't been happy for a long time.
She was just looking for an excuse.
Something to allow her to go.
And then I handed it right to her.
I'm sorry, Brigham.
(squeaking)
Captioning sponsored by CBS
and CSI NY PRODUCTIONS
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org