(panting)
(grunts)
(squeaking)
(metal clanging)
(grunting)
(sighs)
(clank)
MAN: Looks like we got another break-in.
Below...
Watch your hands.
(indistinct chattering)
This way, guys.
(indistinct chattering)
We're wasting time.
(indistinct chattering)
(metallic clanging)
(indistinct chattering)
What the hell?
(men shouting)
(shouting)
I don't know what they would've done if they caught me,
but it was all worth it.
This find may hold the answer
to one of the most famous unsolved murders
in the history of New York City.
Come on, Sutton. Show it to us.
Let's see what you found.
SUTTON: Vincent, try to be patient.
James,
why not just tell him what you found?
It might shut him up.
I like Vincent
much more than I trust him.
(camera shutter clicking)
(siren blaring)
BONASERA: Single gunshot to the abdomen.
No obvious sign of a struggle.
Heavy concentration of GSR.
This was
up close and personal.
Our vic is
James Sutton. He's an archeologist.
Yeah, I know.
It seems historical digs
are back in fashion, the latest
underground craze.
No pun intended.
He came from the Journeymen's Club around the block.
And that's Laura Roman.
She found the body.
Phoned it in about an hour ago.
Looks like James Sutton
fashioned himself a real Indiana Jones.
Till someone made this his last crusade.
♪ 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
(car horns honking)
High-velocity spatter.
Some sort of blue liquid.
Still got his credit cards,
jewelry,
his cash.
Could probably rule out robbery.
Looks like something was wrapped in this.
Hmm.
BONASERA: I have linear abrasions on either side of his neck.
Consistent with a necklace
being pulled off.
And there's no bleeding.
Means it was taken postmortem.
Whoever killed
this guy knew exactly
what they were after.
And it was more valuable than the $500 cash
he's got in his wallet.
(indistinct chattering)
(sniffling)
Where were you when you heard the shot?
I was, um,
outside the main entrance of the club.
I thought it was a car backfiring.
And how much time passed
between the shot and when you found the body?
A few minutes.
I left the club, but couldn't catch a cab.
So I decided to start walking.
Figured I'd have a better shot
of catching one a block over on Lex.
Oh, my God!
James!
(gasping)
What was your relationship with James?
Uh, we were friends.
Colleagues.
Some people I interviewed in the club said
that he found something on a recent expedition
that he considered very important.
You have any idea what that was?
Or exactly where he found it?
Know of anyone who may have wanted to hurt James?
Did he have any enemies?
He did say he was chased from his dig site by someone.
Every man in this club
wanted to be James Sutton,
and every woman wanted to be with him.
I don't see why
anyone would want to kill him.
Unfortunately,
envy and jealousy top the list
when it comes to motives for murder.
♪ ♪
This should be the last of them.
Looks like plastic.
Definitely embedded
by the blast.
(gunshot)
And now we go in
for the grand prize.
Very shallow penetration.
Doesn't make any sense.
We have
stippling, heavy concentration of GSR.
Everything seems to indicate close-contact gunshot wound.
I agree. Based on the appearance
of the entry wound, I was actually expecting
a through-and-through.
You have any idea what kind
of gun could inflict this kind of damage?
Maybe the bullet can answer that.
♪ ♪
Get an ID on our killer chef?
I think I stumbled
Get an ID on our killer chef?
I think I stumbled
upon something even bigger.
Really?
Yeah.
Something sinister,
and evil. I think
we're looking at a serial killer here, Stella.
And he's killing rats.
Okay, how does this relate to Sutton?
We have traces of blood on the oven mitt
from our vic, and we also have traces of blood and hair
from multiple donors that are not human.
Rat.
Right.
What are you thinking?
You pulled that fishhook from the oven mitt, didn't you?
Yeah. Boom.
You think it has something to do with Sutton's murder?
Something. Maybe everything.
Come on. Let's take a ride.
MAN: Yeah.
Yeah.
Ooh! Ah!
I got you now,
you big son of a....
BONASERA: Meet Wolford Bessie,
a.k.a. the Rat Fisherman.
Nice.
Three blocks from the scene of Sutton's murder.
Yeah. Dumpsters are full
of trash and rats the size of cats.
It's Wolford's favorite fishing hole.
Ooh, ooh, go ahead. Get-get out of here.
Please tell me that's always
catch-and-release.
Depends on how hungry I am.
If you'd been here an hour ago,
you would've seen me with a two-pound Norway brown.
I think that's some kind of record.
Wow, I'll look for your article
in American Fisherman.
Animal rights people didn't send you?
No, this isn't about the rat fishing, Wolford,
although I should lock you up
just for wasting a good slice.
Well, I might finish it later.
MESSER: Oh, yeah, well,
before you snack, we found one
of your oven mitts at the scene
of a murder last night.
How did it get there, buddy?
Why you sweating me, man?
I lose stuff.
Haven't you ever lost anything before?
What's that?
My mama told me
the only thing worth stealing
is a kiss from a sleeping child.
TAYLOR: Something was wrapped in here.
I knew I should
have just left it there.
Oh, aren't you a little cutie?
(gun firing)
What? Huh?
Huh? Oh.
Look at all this.
MESSER: Give it up, Wolford.
What else you got?
Something
was taken from the vic's neck.
Oh.
I... I didn't get a good look
at either one of them, you know, not the guy
standing over the body
It was dark.
You're sure the package that that watch came in
was untied and on the ground when you found that body?
I-I swear on my sister's eyes.
Your sister's blind, Wolford.
My other sister, Shantell.
Wait, wait, wait, man, before you put
the bracelets on me, look.
I'm helping the murder police with a big case.
Looks like Homicide gave him a get-out-of-jail-free card.
WOLFORD: Can I... can I
get the card back?
No,
you only get to play that card once, Wolford.
Here.
Why don't you take mine?
You remember anything else, give me a call.
MESSER: You know, the watch,
I can understand-- it was on the ground.
But ripping a medallion off a dead man's neck?
I thought it would add some nice weight
to the cast, you know?
Well, it wasn't like he
was gonna need it no more.
I don't make Wolford as our killer.
No history of violence.
The necklace he snatched
looks just like a cheap souvenir.
Now, the watch could have been worth something,
but if Wolford knew that, he would have pawned it.
So, if he was telling the truth,
the killer left the necklace behind,
which means it wasn't the reason
Sutton was murdered.
Flack said Sutton was chased from the dig site.
Maybe whoever that was caught up to him
expecting to see someone else.
We need to find that dig site.
All right, I'll check his apartment,
find out what he was working on.
I hope there was a good explanation
for this.
ROSS: Actually, I...
a really, um... actually...
it's... it's a really good explanation.
Uh, let-let me show you.
I was working on the paper recovered at the scene.
It looks like
some kind of map, so I tried to identify
what part of the city it is.
Problem is,
whoever created this didn't want anyone
to figure out what it was, so...
I studied the odd fold marks
and wear patterns in the original document.
(chuckling): It...
it took me a little time,
but I was able to recreate the same folds on this copy.
Check it out.
Oh, if you press the wings of the plane together,
they form a new map.
ROSS: It's a two-block area
with no street names, no compass, no key.
It might look like Manhattan,
but it is gonna take some time
to get an exact location.
TAYLOR: So, why is half the lab
out in the hall watching you fly paper airplanes?
Uh... you know, that's a good point,
and, um... I'm gonna walk way
and work and hopefully save my job.
Ow.
BONASERA: Yeah, Flack,
I got the warrant for Sutton's apartment.
Landlord said he would meet us with the key.
Great, okay, I'll see you there.
(grunting, groaning)
(grunting)
MAN (Greek accent): Turn around and you die.
(grunting)
(speaking Greek)
(groaning, grunting)
(panting, groaning)
(murmuring)
(groans)
Son of a bitch.
(horns honking, siren wailing)
(cameras snapping)
FLACK: Our suspect is six-foot, 180 pounds,
dark hair, dark eyes.
Armed with a large-caliber automatic pistol.
Last seen fleeing down One-Seven Street and Park.
No, I pulled my gun, Mac.
This guy disarmed me in a matter of seconds.
He was a pro.
Now, I doubt he left any trace behind.
And... and he spoke
in fluent Greek.
He came up to you
speaking Greek?
No, English, but he got
a little angry when I started to fight back,
and he cursed at me in Greek.
Something about his accent tells me
he's from northern Greece.
You okay?
For a minute there, I thought I was gonna come out
of that stairwell in a body bag.
FLACK: We got a description out there,
and a detail's been assigned
to protect you and Danny.
We'll get this guy.
He knew Danny and I
We'll get this guy.
He knew Danny and I
questioned the rat fisherman.
Wanted to know
what we took off of him.
A leather necklace with some trinket on it
and an old pocket watch.
I don't get it.
FLACK: Maybe the watch is an antique,
one of those auction deals
that collectors pay top dollar for.
If it is, why would Sutton's killer leave it behind?
Hey, how's Stella?
She's tough.
This is the round recovered
from Sutton's body.
It's a bullet with no lands and grooves.
There's no way of knowing
make or model of the weapon.
Well, more than likely,
it was fired through a bored-out barrel.
Right, but the inconsistency is,
it's a close-contact wound with shallow penetration.
Even a weapon with a bored-out barrel
at close range would have enough velocity
to penetrate deep into the body.
Means that bullet had to come
from a homemade weapon.
Welcome to my mystery.
What else do you have?
I'm in the process
of reassembling the plastic shards
Sid pulled from around the wound.
And the blue high-velocity spatter
we found on the vic's shirt came back
as mineral oil, dyed.
Dozens of uses.
And the bullet's untraceable,
but maybe the trace it left behind isn't.
SID: James Sutton shouldn't be dead.
The round I pulled from his body didn't kill him.
An old gunshot wound.
Completely healed.
Impossible to date accurately,
but I'd say at least a year or two old.
Flack did a criminal history on Sutton.
There was no report of him
being the victim of a shooting or an assault.
I did notice
lots of extra scarring along the wound tract,
which suggests that someone
with little or no medical training
was digging around in there to get that bullet out.
Location and severity
of the wound make it unlikely
it was Sutton himself.
(screaming)
The only people who don't report being shot
are criminals, right?
Or someone trying to protect the person who shot them.
Now, the bullet that entered Sutton's body
last night nicked the lower intestine.
There.
The laceration was enough to give him a giant stomachache,
but the bullet stopped there.
If we go a little further...
Just a second.
Now, there's our COD.
Ruptured abdominal aorta.
But Sid, you said the bullet
didn't travel deep enough to hit that artery.
Correct,
but the old gunshot wound resulted
in the weakening of that arterial wall.
Because he never sought proper medical treatment,
the aneurysm went undetected.
Exactly, and the trauma
of the bullet entering his body
caused the aneurysm to burst, killing him almost instantly.
(gun firing)
TAYLOR: So James Sutton was killed
from a gunshot wound he suffered more than a year ago.
MALE OFFICER: Central, this is 21 King. We're 10-84.
We got a DP down here at Central Park.
Requesting a coroner's unit.
Parks Department worker found him.
Looks like he tried to put up a fight.
BONASERA: Not a very good one.
He's got a dislocated pinky.
Some of his fingers are broken.
He was tortured.
And then his neck was snapped.
It's got to be the same guy who pulled me off the street.
I gave the fisherman my card.
TAYLOR: So, he killed Wolford,
then used the information on the card to get to you.
Means our fisherman was dead before you were pushed
into that stairwell.
Yeah, but why kill the fisherman and not me?
Dead cop brings a lot of heat.
What about a dead archaeologist?
BONASERA: No, whoever killed the fisherman
didn't kill Sutton; think about it.
Wolford heard the shot, turned into the alley
and saw the killer running away.
He approached the body,
and as he was snatching the watch,
he looked up and saw
a different man coming toward him.
That man had to have seen Wolford
take the watch and the necklace.
Then he tracked him down and murdered him.
We're looking for two different killers.
(computer chirps)
TAYLOR: Why are we looking
at a picture of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Adam?
Because the porcelain shard
that Lindsay found in the soil sample
from the crime scene...
...belongs to that china.
Oh, you mean a china set like that one?
No, I mean that china set.
It's about 70 years old.
The modified floral pattern is unique.
It's the Roosevelt family coat of arms:
three thorned roses inside a crest
with three white ostrich plumes on top.
It's a personalized, one-of-a-kind set.
What's this?
It's the soil analysis you were just about to ask me for.
Main component is
Manhattan schist.
It's a stone commonly found at least 25 feet underground.
We found traces of badly-degraded carbon steel
mixed with a lead-based Pullman Green paint.
Carbon steel,
lead-based, Pullman Green
were standard on Pullman train cars.
Up until, let's say, the early 1930s.
FDR was elected president in...?
1932.
25 feet underground,
a shard of Roosevelt's Presidential china.
Let's put up that map.
(chirping)
TAYLOR: That's our answer.
TAYLOR: Track 61.
It's been around since the late '20s.
You won't find it on many maps.
If I got my bearings,
we're directly beneath the Waldorf-Astoria.
We are.
Franklin Roosevelt loved staying at the Waldorf.
His presidential train would come
through Grand Central directly into this station.
That train car up ahead-- that's part of his train.
His aides would whisk him off this train
in his wheelchair, into that elevator
over there, up to his hotel suite,
out of sight of the press and the public.
You're the guy I wanted to sit next to
in history class the day of the test.
Good luck trying to cheat off this guy.
TAYLOR: You'll have a tough time finding
press photos of Roosevelt.
The press honored his request
never be photographed in his wheelchair
or in his leg braces.
Wow. That's respect.
Don't see much of that these days.
Part of the train included a dining car with a kitchen,
a chef and a wait staff.
Well, that would explain
a broken china plate or two down here.
FLACK: Looks like Sutton's dig site.
(hissing)
Looks like Sutton was telling
the truth about being chased out of here.
(clanging)
Flack!
Whoa!
(both grunt)
(grunts)
(Flack shouts)
Up!
(panting)
Well, look at this.
Laura Roman.
ROMAN: I didn't kill him.
I was in love with him.
Well, that's a little more than just friends and colleagues.
You lied about your relationship with the victim, Laura.
That makes me very suspicious.
ROMAN: You don't understand.
Yes, we were lovers, but when it came
to archeology and exploring, it was a competition.
Is it possible that competition got a little carried away?
No, it's not.
TAYLOR: You left the club
shortly after Sutton did.
He ends up dead. You find the body.
We call that opportunity.
Then, the day after he's murdered,
you're underground with a copy
of his map, hunting
for whatever he thought was buried down there.
We call that motive.
FLACK: The pocket watch you left behind
after you killed him--
that wasn't the big find, was it?
Stop saying that. I told you. I didn't kill him.
And I don't know what watch you're talking about.
He never told me what he found.
So, what was James looking for down there, Laura?
He was looking for the remains of a judge.
Some guy
who disappeared a long time ago.
Joseph Crater.
I was down there
trying to finish what James started.
Now I'm finished talking.
MONROE: She's telling the truth about the judge.
How do you know?
The serial number I raised on the watch
helped me identify an owner-- Judge Joseph Crater.
He was appointed to the New York
State Supreme Court by then Governor
of New York, Franklin Roosevelt.
He was like the Jimmy Hoffa of his day.
He disappeared in August of 1930.
His body was never found.
MESSER: All right, so that's the great
murder mystery that Sutton was hoping to solve.
You know, before I took that watch apart, I had it appraised.
It wasn't worth very much.
A couple of thousand dollars, at the most.
Then why would someone attack you
and kill the fisherman for it?
Because whatever was taken with it
must have been the real prize.
(computer trilling)
You think?
Only one way to find out.
(beep)
(computer trilling)
(trilling)
Something definitely hidden inside there.
Looks like some kind of coin.
Somebody went to a lot of trouble to hide this.
Yeah.
It's got to be valuable.
Valuable enough to kill for.
We may have just found
our motive for the fisherman's murder.
I thought you should see this.
Flack subpoenaed Sutton's medical history.
As expected, there was no record
of a previous gunshot wound,
but there was documentation of another injury.
In 1999,
he suffered a fall while
ice hiking on Mount Hood.
He was airlifted to a nearby hospital,
and had emergency surgery to remove his ruptured spleen.
Now...
Where's the scar from the incision?
There isn't one.
Okay, Laurie.
Now, please forgive
my use of props, but
seeing is believing.
One perfectly
healthy spleen.
This is not the real James Sutton.
TAYLOR: Our James Sutton
just became James Doe.
Allow me to introduce myself.
My name is James Sutton.
I'm an archeologist.
I'm 25 years old. I live in a three-bedroom...
I ran Sutton through every database known to man.
The usual stuff-- personal info, current and past address.
Nothing out of the ordinary until I found this.
It was posted almost three years ago.
My fiancé of two years, Liza,
the love of my life,
betrayed me in ways that cannot be forgotten, so...
Okay, I don't have a minute, Adam.
Just get to the point here.
I promise you, boss, it's all gonna make sense, okay?
I will begin an online auction.
It's coming.
Up for sale?
My entire life.
My possessions,
my friends, my job...
(computer chirps)
This is the real James Sutton.
He's been living on Long Island
for the past three years.
He works at the lighthouse museum
on the South Shore.
Well, maybe he can tell us
who the hell is lying on that table down in Autopsy.
He handed me a check for half a million dollars.
His real name is Mitch Henson.
He submitted the winning bid.
I know it's a lot of money, but
how do you walk away from your entire life?
By doing just that.
By leaving with the clothes on your back
and a check for $500,000.
Have you had any contact
with Henson since the auction?
There was a strict non-communication clause
attached to the sale.
What's this all about?
Is he in trouble, or...?
He was murdered two nights ago.
Murdered?
TAYLOR: Did he ever discuss
with you why he bought your life?
I mean, could he have been
running from something or someone?
No.
From what I remember, he was just a plain kind of guy.
Just a man looking for a fresh start.
WOMAN: Okay, everybody, it's time for the lighthouse tour.
CHILD: I want to take the tour.
Well, you remember anything else, please call.
I will.
Good luck, detectives.
Mm-hmm. Thanks.
At least we got an ID on our vic.
Hey.
Mitch Henson bought Sutton's life over three years ago.
Sid puts that old gunshot wound--
the one that ultimately killed him--
occurring between one and two years ago.
Okay. That means Henson was shot both times
well after he'd already assumed Sutton's identity.
WOMAN: Grady, one more minute, and then it's Jackson's turn.
What are you thinking?
If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.
GIRL: Check this out.
(helicopter whirring, horn honking)
Is it true?
It's all over the club.
People are saying he was a fake, a fraud.
Why don't you have a seat,
take a breath, calm down, and we'll talk?
No. I want to know who James really was.
Where he grew up, what college he went to.
Did he have any family?
Please.
It's an ongoing investigation.
His name was Mitch Henson.
But apart from that, I can't reveal
any further information.
You don't understand.
I slept with him. I shared secrets with him.
For the last three years, every time I said his name,
it was a lie.
Three years?
So you were
with him when he was shot the first time?
How did you know about that?
The coroner found the injury during his autopsy.
I need to know who shot him.
Who was he protecting by not reporting it?
Why? Why is that important?
Because the person responsible for that shooting
might be the same person who murdered him.
I can assure you that it wasn't.
It was you, wasn't it?
You shot him.
It was an accident.
Two years ago,
I was hired to excavate a site
on a farm outside the city of Nicosia in northern Cyprus.
When I arrived,
I realized James had beaten me to the site.
He'd been digging there for two days.
You son of a bitch!
This was mine! I set this up!
I did all the legwork!
(groans)
Hey!
Oh!
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
I want everything.
Everything you found!
Just take it easy, baby.
Just put that thing away.
(gunshot)
(groans)
(gunshot)
(groans)
But I never meant to pull the trigger.
Thank God he wasn't seriously hurt.
What?
Nothing.
You're very lucky.
Because that bullet
could have easily killed him.
A lot of guys would have told her.
She never has to know it was her bullet
that ultimately killed him.
What now?
The hard part.
Finding out who pulled the trigger two days ago.
(car horns honking)
Who's better than me?
That depends on who you ask.
This pen right here.
The most dangerous pen in the world
and the answer to all of our questions.
The plastic shards Sid pulled from the wound--
I reassembled them
from the pen the killer used to make the gun.
All the components used to assemble the gun
are common household items.
And the rim fire .22 caliber bullet
is for sale in any gun shop.
(gunshot)
TAYLOR: The blue mineral oil.
Pretty well made. The only defect is
the plastic casing on the outside of the pen extended
farther than the metal barrel
on the inside.
The round exploding out of the barrel caused the extra plastic
to splinter and forced those pieces into the wound.
The barrel is a metal tube you can buy
in any hardware store.
And it wasn't designed to fire a bullet.
That explains the shallow penetration.
No rifling inside the barrel.
The bullet didn't spin out with increasing velocity.
Instead, it wobbled out and quickly lost speed.
Leaving no marks to identify the gun
from which it was fired from.
Well, there aren't many people
capable of making a weapon like this.
This might help narrow it down.
(camera shutter clicking)
All right, see the front of the coin
has Apollo on it; he's the god of light
in Greek mythology.
On the back
is a chariot being drawn by elephants.
If this is authentic, it's priceless.
What makes it so valuable?
Well, first of all,
it feels like solid gold.
And those etchings would date it back
thousands of years ago,
during the reign of King Philip II.
This belongs in a museum somewhere.
It's definitely the property of the Greek government.
All right, well, looks like our boy Sutton was involved
in smuggling stolen antiquities then.
Yeah. Somebody wanted that coin badly enough to attack me
in that stairwell and kill the fisherman.
And that person's still out there.
The funny thing about search warrants, James,
is that you never know what's gonna turn up.
Now I bet that this
wouldn't be in your apartment.
I bet that you were smart enough to get rid of it.
I lost.
The pen from the lighthouse gift shop.
Ironic.
Using something from your new life
to take the life of the man who had your old one.
Bet that 500 grand
seemed like a lot of dough at the time, huh?
Amazing how fast it can go.
A bad real estate deal here,
a couple of overaggressive investments there.
That job you have at the lighthouse?
Might as well be charity work.
You're broke.
Did you honestly think that
by killing Henson, you'd have your life back?
I didn't want my life back.
I just wanted some
credit, some kind of compensation, a little respect.
He was becoming rich and famous
off of my research, my hard work.
Henson.
You stopped taking my calls.
You're not supposed to be here.
No contact, remember?
That's what the contract says.
Get the hell away from me.
I saw the magazine articles. Those ruins in Peru.
Brilliant discovery.
A career-maker.
That's me!
I got you there.
I sold you my reputation.
I sold you my existence.
No!
I sold you my existence.
No!
It was my hard work that got me there.
You gave up on your life.
And I took it and turned it into something you couldn't.
I don't owe you anything.
You couldn't let it go,
James.
He had
no right treating me like that!
He had every right.
But in your twisted mind
you somehow blamed him for your own failures.
He was the reason your life was falling apart.
So you made this gun,
you came back to the city, and you hung out
outside the club, and you killed him.
What the hell are you doing?
I told you to stay away from me.
I told you what I wanted.
You can't have your life back.
And you
You can't have your life back.
And you
can't have it either.
(gunshot)
(groans)
That was my life.
That wasn't your life.
This is.
And for the next 25 years, that life is the property
of the New York State Department of Corrections.
(elevator bell rings)
(speaking Greek)
(mechanical whirring)
(speaking Greek)
I really appreciate you seeing me at such a late hour.
How can I be of assistance?
I'm conducting a homicide investigation
that may involve the smuggling of artifacts
belonging to your country,
specifically a rare coin of Philip II.
A rare coin indeed.
Yes. I was hoping
you might put me in contact
with someone from your government
that would be able to inform me
of any recent thefts of such items.
Give me a list of known smugglers.
I'd also like
to authenticate the coin, find out exactly
where it originated.
Detective Bonasera, Sebastian Diakos.
Pleasure to meet you.
Sebastian is an antiquities expert
specializing in ancient Greek artifacts.
He will assist you with whatever you need.
I'd be happy to.
(phone rings)
Oh.
You said you had
a photograph of the coin.
Yes, I do.
(speaking Greek)
Oh.
Oh, I'm so embarrassed.
I-I must've
picked up the wrong tablet.
I don't have the photograph I'm looking for
on this one.
Ah.
(speaking Greek)
I apologize.
I have wasted your time.
I, uh, promise you our next meeting will be
far more productive.
Of course.
(speaking Greek)
(elevator bell rings)
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