RADIO ANNOUNCER: This evening's commute
is going to be congested, folks.
(radio signal distorts)
Soy legal este es mi pais tambien!
...accident on 51st Street happened about an hour ago,
that's backing up traffic...
...will somebody clean up this mess?
Investors are suddenly shell-shocked
(signal distorts)
MAN: Can you hear the frequencies? Oh, I can hear the frequencies.
Yeah, the signal's coming through loud and clear.
Ships and planes lose their way in Bermuda,
but the same thing happens in Manhattan,
calls interrupted, vehicles disabled.
Innocent people vanish before your eyes.
Yet still the power is broadcast!
The transmission completely overwhelms the Triangle!
Communication completely breaks down.
Tune it in, then turn it down.
RADIO: Here's Dubinsky with a slaphot from the left circle and...
(signal distorts)
Oh, no! No! No! Not now!
Aw, Boom, I was hoping you'd answer.
Aren't you supposed to be working the night shift?
Yeah, yeah, I'm running late.
They turned the Q into an express,
but forgot to tell the passengers.
So, I had to jump out at 34th.
Now I got to double back.
Okay, but if Mac asks where you are...
Yeah, I know, I know. You never heard of me.
So, how you feeling? How's the baby?
Good. She's good.
She?
Or he. Relax. It's too early to tell.
Um, all right, there's something important
I want to talk to you about, okay?
Okay. What is it?
(signal disrupts) Hello?
Danny?
Hello?
Argh! You kidding me?!
Can you hear it?
(truck power buzzes)
Can you see it?!
Can you feel the Bermuda Triangle?!
Dispatch, this is 1107 requesting immediate assistance.
Is this thing on?
Come on. Why don't you work?
Hey, Carl, we got a problem.
Son of a bitch!
Carl, what the hell is happening?!
Come on. Come on.
Hello? Hello?!
Help! Help us!
(yelling muffled)
♪ 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
(siren blaring, car horn honking)
(garbled radio transmission)
MAN: I don't know what happened.
The truck stalled and radio went down,
and then...
Hey, he just died right in front of my eyes.
You open the back door to try to help him out?
I... I couldn't.
We're not allowed to leave the cab during emergencies
till backup arrives.
(camera shutter clicking)
BONASERA: Irregular edges.
Rules out a stabbing.
Gunshot wound to the chest?
Well, maybe.
I'm only seeing an exit wound.
No visible entry.
No GSR.
No bullet.
MAN: Move that truck now!
Looks like some kind of contact burns around his eyes.
Huh.
Burns around the wristwatch, as well.
Looks like a pineapple sticker on his cuff.
(garbled radio transmission, horns honking)
Is it just me, or is there something really strange
about this crime scene?
Mac?
(horns honking, overlapping chatter)
Okay, so your vic's name is
Carl Custer.
He's been working armored cars
for High Eye Security since '88.
He had a younger partner in the driver's seat.
Guy by the name of Greg Hufheinz.
He the one who opened the back?
No. The only way to open the vault is
from the outside, and protocol forced
the driver to stay in the cab.
Somebody did the honors. Any witnesses?
Rush hour in Midtown? Come on.
Nobody sees anything but a highball and a couch waiting
for 'em at home.
We did talk to a couple of folks at the bus stop,
and one of them claims she saw someone turn a knob
and open the door.
Could have been our killer,
but I'm not seeing any knob.
Yeah, well, believe me,
the descriptions we got don't help much, either.
One said it was a guy,
the other one said it was a girl,
and neither of them remember a uniform.
But in fairness, they were distracted by watching this guy
spontaneously combust.
(groaning)
(yelling)
What about a gunshot?
Nope. Sorry, Stella. I wish I had more for you,
but I'm guessing that the people who saw the most all drove away.
Yeah, well, from what I see, it looks like a robbery.
Yeah. I got a High Eye rep
standing by to count the cash as soon
as you release the crime scene.
Yeah. I'm gonna need surveillance footage
from that intersection camera, too.
Done.
Looking for something else?
Yeah. Mac.
One minute he was here, the next minute, he was gone.
His Avalanche is still parked.
But you know what they say about this area.
Oh, come, Flack.
You don't believe that Bermuda Triangle stuff.
311 gets constant calls from the area
right around the Empire State Building.
Cell phones crap out.
TV and radio signals get interrupted.
Vehicles lock their own doors.
Sometimes shut down altogether.
And people disappear?
Okay, well, maybe it hasn't gone that far.
Yet.
Come on.
There's a rational, scientific explanation
for all of it.
Let's just hope we find one
for this guy's death.
♪ ♪
HAWKES: Working up an appetite?
Hmm?
Oh, no. You know there's
a strict no-eating policy in the lab.
Never stopped me
a strict no-eating policy in the lab.
Never stopped me
from sneaking in the occasional
bag of popcorn.
So Mac said we had a possible gunshot victim.
Well, that is how it looked,
but I didn't find a bullet in the body.
Just a whole lot of these: metal
and plastic fragments scattered
throughout the vic's thoracic cavity.
Looks like some kind of bomb went off.
An astute observation, because I believe those
were his pacemaker.
And instead of being shot from the outside,
I'm afraid our victim succumbed to massive
cardiac trauma due to internal concussive force.
I've seen cases
of pacemaker failure, Sid,
but they're not exactly known for exploding.
Are you sure that's what happened?
Well, I wasn't until I got a good look at his liver.
Just bear with me here.
Now...
what's wrong with this picture?
Well, for one,
it's awfully small for the liver
of an adult male.
(beep)
Correct. And notice the striated
charring?
Now compare that
to this freshly-cooked pig liver.
See the similarities?
They both have been microwaved.
It would take microwave-induced heat
for the pacemaker's lithium batteries
to swiftly combust.
Also causing the second-degree burns
where his eyeglasses and wristwatch
made direct contact with the skin.
Though we're talking quite a bit more juice than your standard
countertop oven.
Probably somewhere
in excess of 300 degrees.
Oh, come on, Sid. It's not like
he was going down 34th Street in a giant microwave.
No.
But he was in the middle of the Electronic Bermuda Triangle.
After 9/11, a lot
of the broadcast and communication antennas
that used to be atop the World Trade Center
were moved to the Empire State Building.
I'm sure there's a significant amount
of microwave energy emanating from there.
Enough to kill someone?
(computer beeps and chirps)
What happened to the picture?
Apparently some sort of high-voltage meltdown.
Now, according to the Department
of Transportation, the signal
at the intersection camera went down at 4:56 p.m.,
and it hasn't worked since.
Same with the stoplight.
Hmm.
Same with the stoplight.
Hmm.
All right, well, I have to pop downstairs for a second
and then run a bunch of evidence through Trace,
but the the rear doors from the armored car--
they're on their...
I'll take a look-see.
Great. Thanks.
(computer trilling)
(beeping)
Triangle strikes again.
(horns honking, siren blaring)
Thought I saw you running for the exit.
I'm starving.
My OB says I should pay attention to my cravings,
no matter how inconvenient they are.
Yeah.
Let me ask you something.
Do you have any hereditary disease in your family?
(laughs)
No.
Do you?
No. No, no.
Mental illness?
No.
No? How about, uh,
addictive tendencies?
Extra fingers? Extra toes?
No.
No?
Natural delivery,
or, uh, drugs?
Uh... either.
Want a boy or a girl?
Healthy.
Will you marry me?
No.
♪ ♪
TAYLOR: Any progress on the pacemaker?
Well, the directionality of the fragments
paired with flash patterns and high traces of lithium cobalt oxide
definitely seem to confirm Sid's theory
about it exploding,
but I still managed to get a serial number off it
and contacted the manufacturer
directly.
Marwood Technologies.
directly.
Marwood Technologies.
Right. And they've never
had a single failure of this kind, even though
they knew about it as it was happening.
How?
Well, turns out
our vic paid extra for remote monitoring of his ticker.
The pacemaker sent a constant electrocardiogram signal
to his cell phone, which in turn relayed the info
via a wireless Internet connection to their database.
And as you can tell,
this is when the signal ended.
4:56 p.m.,
the same time the intersection camera failed.
Mm-hmm.
So if all that much energy came off the Empire State Building
and caused all this damage--
how come our vic was the only casualty?
At this point,
there's only one way to answer that question.
Whoa!
Wow!
I thought the view from Liberty was nice.
She's 1,100 feet below us.
According to management,
all radio and TV signals transmitted
from this tower are fully automated
and carefully regulated.
Right, assuming they can't be manipulated.
Up here's the only way to get a read
on just how powerful they really are.
These electrosmog meters
should be able to give us the accurate reading of just how much
microwave energy's
coming off the tower.
All right, well, let's do this before somebody wets themselves,
please.
(meter whirring)
♪ ♪
I'm going up.
All right.
TAYLOR: Hawkes!
Hey, Mac, there's plenty
of microwaves, but they're well
within safety levels.
Yeah,
I can see the Poconos.
But I ain't seeing
a problem.
Well, it may be guilty of creating an urban legend,
but there's no way this building is guilty of murder.
All right, well,
if the Empire State Building didn't do it,
what did?
Let's try running a DARPA search.
A what?
Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.
You think we're looking for some kind
of military microwave weapon?
Well, they do solicit new technologies
from private R&D interests.
If there is such a weapon,
somebody might've used it here.
And DARPA could help us learn who they are.
(phone ringing)
Mac Taylor.
(garbled): Mac, it's Flack.
So, I spoke to someone from...
Flack?
So, I spoke to someone from...
Flack?
Yeah, it's me. Can you hear me?
Speak up.
I spoke to someone from High Eye...
Yeah, I'm listening. I can hear you.
There's no money missing from truck.
Yeah?
You're-you're breaking up.
Can you hear me now?
I got the gist of it.
HAWKES: What'd he say?
According to High Eye Security,
there was no money missing from the truck.
So it wasn't a robbery?
Who cracks an armored car,
kills a guard, and doesn't take the cash?
(car horns honking)
Mac, where the hell did you go last night?
I looked all over the street.
I called you repeatedly.
You just vanished.
I was with the FBI.
They picked me up in a car.
Questioned me for over an hour
about the Ann Steele case.
The fixer with the flash drive.
I was the last one to handle it.
And they accused me of stealing it.
What?
TAYLOR: It was vouchered as investigatory evidence.
As far as I know, it's sitting in our property warehouse.
Which is where? Middle of Times Square?
It's a secure facility.
Apparently not.
Well, you obviously know something I don't
about what's going on here, so now that you've
scooped me out of a crime scene,
why don't you tell me what the hell that is?
The drive contained some extremely
sensitive information about some very important people,
some at the highest levels of government.
But you knew that.
So you took it.
I didn't take anything.
Yeah,
well, word to the wise, Detective.
Before you use that weapon of yours to start taking
potshots at politicians,
you better make damn sure there isn't another one
pointed right at your head.
Did anyone else
have access to the drive besides you?
HAWKES: 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.
TAYLOR: Hawkes gave it to me.
Then I looked at it,
sent it straight to the evidence warehouse.
But after my little chat with the FBI,
I went to the property room, and sure enough...
The flash drive is gone, Stella.
And you checked the chain of custody?
Yeah, it went directly from me
to the property clerk who vouchered it.
Officer Kevin Cross.
Have you spoken to him?
That's high on my list of things to do.
Find anything?
A couple things, actually.
I processed the armored car doors
and found a circular dust void
and tool marks around the electronic lock,
but I already knew that the circuit had been disabled
by microwaves and that
the lock couldn't be unlocked,
so I tried to figure other ways that I could open it,
and found this.
It's called Satan's ring.
You ever seen one?
No.
Me neither. So I borrowed it
from an old roommate of mine who works
at the Treasury Department.
He still owes me huge
for stealing these basketball shoes,
and, you know...
Uh, anyways, it has this, uh, aluminum shell
with four high-powered magnets inside,
each separated by 90 degrees
and mounted north-south, north-south.
Apparently, you put this
over an electronic lock,
give it a few turns.
Try to take the wheel.
The reverse polarity of the magnet
charges the coil in the lock's dynamo and...
(evil laugh)
Hey, it worked.
That is evil.
But the real devil
is in the details.
See, if you compare
the shape and size
of a ring like this
to a void like that...
Mmm. I sent a couple
It's a perfect match.
of photos over to Flack.
Maybe he could put a list together
of past robbery suspects
that would have used a Satan ring of their own.
(phone ringing)
♪ ♪
Bernie Benton.
Still hustling darts.
Don Flack.
Still hassling law-abiding ex-cons.
Is that the same suit
you was wearing the day you locked me up?
Beats the orange one you wore in the joint, no?
Speaking of which, you ready to wear it again?
Because that armored car job you pulled
last night got a little sloppy.
I wish I knew what you talking about.
Don't insult my intelligence, Bernie.
You killed a guard.
Oh, come on, Flack.
You know me better than that.
I pulled clean jobs.
Never even got as much
as a nosebleed.
It's true.
You never hurt anybody,
but I did four years
in the bank robbery task force
and seven in the Detective Bureau
and I've only come across Satan's ring twice:
once the day I locked you up, and the second time today.
Hey, hon.
Uh, I'm going to close before your shift.
Why don't you take a day.
Really?
Yeah.
Thanks, Bernie.
I owe you.
Do I still got it
or what?
It's the ring I'm interested in, Bernie.
Do you honestly think I'm stupid enough
to use that damn thing again?
I honestly do, yeah.
You don't cut me
no slack, huh?
Somebody's gotta keep your unhealthy
lifestyle in check.
What?
This?
Doc says I got
pancreatic cancer.
Me, I didn't even know what a pancreatic is.
But I tell you one thing:
I'm out of the game.
Well as much as I want to believe you, Bernie,
I can't just yet.
So do us both a favor: don't go anywhere.
I got six to nine months.
This bar's the only home I got.
If you need me...
I'll be right here.
♪ ♪
Hey.
Anything on the sticker?
Uh... trace epithelials.
I already sent a sample with Adam's DNA,
and I'm just, uh, running GCMS.
Okay, well, in addition
to our typical adhesive components,
looks like our little sticker's
packing quite a fruit bowl of trace.
Pineapple pectin, coconut oil, banana oil.
Mmm.
There's a spike in zinc oxide as well.
Hmm. Some kind of a tropical sunblock?
Could be.
See if you can ID a specific source.
Sure. Will do.
Stella.
Aren't you the, uh,
the official safety officer at the lab?
Yes. That is my proud, unpaid position.
Why?
Well, I've got this, um... friend.
She works over in the forensics lab
in New Jersey, and, uh...
she's pregnant.
Oh.
Good for her.
Yeah. Except she's nervous because, you know,
all the chemicals
and the processes that we do,
you know, that could really
harm the development of a baby, right?
That's true, but there's also
so many different safety protocols in place:
goggles, face shields.
Fume hoods. I mean... not to mention
all the training and retraining we have to go through.
I'm sure she'll be fine.
Seems like she's in a little over her head.
Well, she's not alone, right?
I mean, the baby has a father.
Yeah.
Yeah, and he's great.
It's just, you know, I don't really know
how ready he was for any of this, so...
Well, it's complicated.
And beautiful.
Listen, Lindsay, um, I'm sure if your friend's co-workers
are anything like yours,
they'll understand the situation and work with her, even be happy
for her.
It's going to be okay.
Thanks.
You're welcome.
Hey, um...
tell your friend congratulations.
Find anything
on DARPA?
No, just lots of roadblocks, Mac.
US Military
is not too keen
on an NYPD crime scene investigator asking questions
about top secret designs.
I do know this: microwave weapon technology does exist,
only what we're looking for is probably
portable and concealable.
But not invisible. Keep looking.
Mac, that armored car just took an unexpected turn.
(horns honking)
(garbled radio transmission)
(camera shutter clicking)
Anderson Savings and Loan.
This place was the next stop on their route.
Yep.
According to the larceny complaint,
a High Eye security guard signed in here
a little after 5:00 yesterday evening,
walked out with a deposit transfer
of 250,000 bucks, but...
problem is, according to the logbook,
he signed in as Carl Custer.
But he couldn't have signed it 'cause he was too busy dying
four blocks away in the back of an armored car.
Over here.
MESSER: Security guard signed the cash out at 5:01 P.M.
That's only five minutes after the armored car was stolen.
Yeah, I can't really get a clear look at his face.
He looks male,
average build,
High Eye uniform.
Blond hair, beard.
That match the ex-con?
Nah, Bernie Benton was clean-shaven, brown hair.
He was older, too.
All right, let's step this out.
Our perp used some kind of...
intense burst of microwave energy to stall the truck
so he could collect the next
scheduled deposit.
Aw, man.
MESSER: Yeah, only he didn't count on the vic's pacemaker exploding.
(screaming)
And he had to be privy to the pickup schedule.
Help! Help us!
Screams "inside job" to me.
(horns honking)
(siren wailing)
Urban legend or not,
I feel like this whole Bermuda Triangle thing
is swallowing up all our leads.
Hawkes get anywhere
with his DARPA search?
Not yet,
and Lindsay's still working on the pineapple sticker I found
on the vic's sleeve.
All right, sorry to make this a triple,
but if this is an inside job, I got no proof.
High Eye employees came back clean?
Yeah, squeaky.
Hufheinz, our vic,
and according to Flack, the other guys
who work for the company can account for their time.
Science, witness accounts, surveillance footage,
and we still can't see it.
Maybe we're looking from the wrong vantage point.
(computer chirps)
Camera's mounted on the ESB's antenna array.
They're used to give 360 views
of the city online.
I noticed it when we were up there.
Yeah, but it's not pointed straight down.
It probably didn't capture video
of the armored car.
No, but it is facing
in the same direction
as the savings and loan.
Let's tap into that sky-cam footage.
There's our thief coming out of the bank.
Looks like he's getting into that brown van.
Ooh.
Can we get a better angle on the plate?
No plate, but... you see
what I see?
Another witness.
Searching for a signal,
searching for a signal,
searching for a signal, testing.
Excuse me.
searching for a signal, testing.
Excuse me.
You got a second, mister?
Yert.
Yert? Okay.
Yawallac.
Yert? Okay.
Yawallac.
Right, listen, Yert,
we're investigating a crime that happened here yesterday.
The Triangle took someone else,
didn't it?
Yes, yes, but see, you may have been a witness,
and we need your help.
I hear it all, see it all.
and we need your help.
I hear it all, see it all.
There's so many signs. There's so many signals.
Do you remember that you almost got hit by a van yesterday?
The wave of darkness, yes.
I was monitoring congested energy channels
when suddenly I received a warning transmission.
I narrowly defeated death,
and I snatched the sight from his evil eye.
(laughing)
Mind if we hold on to this?
Do you hear the frequency?
Yes, I-I can hear the frequency loud and clear.
Do you have any idea what just happened?
Yeah,
I think we got a lead.
(groans)
Hi, Adam.
Hey, um, the epaulet that Stella sent us didn't make
direct contact with the uniform wearer's skin.
I couldn't find hair or epithelials,
so I decided to try and go for some kind of scent analysis.
I ran a sample
through GCMS and no peaks.
There are no detectable scent molecules anywhere
on the sample?
The scent was too faint to get a baseline.
on the sample?
The scent was too faint to get a baseline.
So we need reinforcements.
Canine sense of smell is a lot more sensitive
than anything we have in the lab.
Time to let the dogs out.
♪ ♪
(barks)
Was it worth it, Greg?
What, you think I was in on it?
Well, you're wrong, dead wrong.
Carl was like family.
TAYLOR: What was your cut?
You get the money yet? How much did they pay you
to sit by and watch while your "family" fried
in the back of that truck?
(Hufheinz screaming)
in the back of that truck?
(Hufheinz screaming)
I already told you I couldn't get out of the cab.
I tried to call it in, but the radio didn't work.
The man...
who stole the money from that savings and loan
right around the corner from the Empire State Building--
he was wearing a High Eye uniform.
But not
just any uniform.
Yours, Greg.
No, you don't get it.
Then why don't you tell us
what we need to get?
My spare uniform.
Two days ago I went to the cleaners to pick it up.
They said I already had, but I hadn't.
It wasn't me.
Do you know who this man is?
No, I've never seen him before.
Look, I swear to God I had nothing
to do with this.
I didn't kill my partner.
OFFICER: Let's go.
(sighs)
I believe him.
Yeah, me, too.
Okay.
How's about we try this on for size?
What if our friendly ex-con Bernie Benton
staked the driver out, followed him after work,
waited for him to drop his uniform off at the cleaners,
then came back later, picked it up,
disguised himself, walked right into that savings and loan,
then walked right out with 250 "G"s?
Much more believable.
And it wouldn't be the first time he pulled a stunt
like that.
But he couldn't have pulled it off at all
unless somebody else stopped that armored car for him.
HAWKES: Yes, hot damn.
Ooh, you've got that lucky break look
in your eye.
DARPA search
finally came through,
led me to a private lab in Midtown called Sanon Research,
and get this:
they have an advanced prototype of a portable microwave gun.
Ah, could be exactly what we're looking for.
It's worth a shot.
Well,
as long as we're taking shots,
I think that pineapple sticker you found at the scene
was used to create
a "tantoo."
A tan what?
It's a pigment pattern
made by applying a sticker to the skin
during sunbathing.
Little late in the year for that, don't you think?
Well, never too late at a tanning salon.
Normally, you take them off after tanning, but our perp
might have forgotten and accidentally
transferred it to the victim.
And it would explain the tropical sunblock.
What about
the epithelials you lifted?
Partial profile, female.
No hits in CODIS, but I did get a familial match.
To whom?
Well, it seems that Bernie Benton has a daughter.
I guess the pineapple didn't fall far from the tree.
So, we know Bernie's daughter is involved in this.
The pineapple sticker puts her on our security guard.
There's nothing in Bernie's case file
that mentions a daughter.
There's no photos, there's no record
of her visiting him in prison.
We know where Bernie is?
Flack's got a tail on him.
What did you get from Sanon's microwave gun?
Well, for one thing, it had to be
what stopped that armored car.
Two megawatts of portable microwave mayhem,
more than capable of causing all the damage at the scene,
as well as our dead guard's injuries.
But somebody had to know not only how to use it,
but also how to wipe it clean
because there were no prints of any kind.
Exactly, and we believe that somebody is Bernie's daughter.
Yeah.
Exactly, and we believe that somebody is Bernie's daughter.
Yeah.
BONASERA: While Bernie was in
the savings and loan, she was manning the gun.
HAWKES: The armored car pulls up to the traffic light.
She pulls the trigger.
The wave blast disrupts all the traffic lights.
(horns honking)
And at 4:56 p.m., destroys the camera.
(electrical buzzing)
MESSER: That's a hell of a murder weapon.
Sanon Research is definitely on the cutting edge,
but there are a select few employees
that actually have access to that gun, and no one
on that list has the last name of Benton.
BONASERA: Right, but Bernie's daughter could
have a different last name.
MONROE: She has to be
the connection to the gun,
but without a photo or a name...
how do we find her?
It's 10:00, Bernie.
You know where your daughter is?
Out being a good girl somewhere, I am sure.
Can I get you suits something?
Yeah, the truth.
Come on, Bern.
This plan had your stink all over it.
A mock armored car heist as a diversion
while you shook up the savings and loan.
Only blip in this plan was that
you never would have used your ring on that truck
in the middle of rush hour.
Ah, maybe I was a little sloppy on this one after all.
No, this is your daughter's mess.
She was only supposed to disable the truck,
(electrical buzzing, groaning)
What happened, Bernie, your daughter get a little
too greedy on this one?
Ah...
maybe she's too much like me.
It's a tough business, you know?
No health benefits.
No pension.
Nothing to leave the loved ones
when you're gone.
So, you pulled one more job
to help her out, let her take all the cash
and walk, is that it?
What's her name, Bernie, and where is she?
You know, this medication they got me on...
it leaves me feeling...
I don't know, a little fuzzy.
Hey!
Bernie...
(groaning)
Now, why do you want
to go and do something like that?
I guess old habits die hard.
I got it, Flack.
Yeah, Hawkes,
the name is Jamie Sunderland.
She's a marketing rep at Sanon Research.
Look, I need get units at Sanon's lab now.
BENTON: Don't waste your time.
She's not there.
Then, why don't you make it easy on her and tell us
She's not there.
Then, why don't you make it easy on her and tell us
where she is.
She's been laying low.
Okay, we're gonna need to put out an APB on her.
BONASERA: Yeah, she's on the move.
FLACK: Bernie, there's a better gift you can give your daughter.
I'm talking about the difference
between five years and life.
She's a bright kid, you know?
She gets things, picks them up fast.
I was proud
when she landed that job at the lab,
but they could never give her what she was worth.
Bus, train stations, ferries and airports.
Okay, then why don't you cross-reference her name
with personnel files
and travel itineraries from Sanon Research.
Last chance.
(chuckles)
Get up.
FLACK: You have the right to remain silent.
Anything you say...
will be too damn late anyway.
(cell phone beeping)
(siren wailing)
Some lady's pooch got away from her.
Found the body here.
No ID, not sure where he was going.
(camera shutter clicking)
He was going home.
His name is Kevin Cross.
He's a property clerk.
One of us?
MESSER: So...
you, um...
want to tell me why you won't marry me?
I didn't mean I won't.
I just think it's the wrong time.
Wrong time.
Wrong time or the wrong guy?
Danny...
I know I've thrown a lot at you
and we're both feeling really overwhelmed,
but whatever we do next,
I want it to be for the right reason.
Wouldn't you rather walk
down the aisle than be pushed?
Of course.
Okay, good, so listen.
I'm not going anywhere,
and I know you're not going anywhere, either,
okay, but this isn't just about you and I anymore,
so let's just take baby steps, okay?
Okay.
Sure.
Look, before we go inside,
I want to tell you one more thing, okay?
I just want you to know...
that I love you.
I love you, too, Danny.
(no audio)
Captioning sponsored by CBS
and CSI NY PRODUCTIONS
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org