(sirens wailing)
(tires screeching, sirens stop)
(car doors opening, closing)
(indistinct chattering)
FLACK: I went through his pockets
and found a wallet full of cash, credit cards and an ID.
His name's Martin Stafford.
His business card says he's CEO of Kensitron Software.
So I checked, it's a small firm on the Upper East Side.
Well, these red stains
are definitely not part of the crosswalk art.
It's blood and a whole lot of it.
TAYLOR: And no apparent evidence of an attacker.
FLACK: He's drenched in his own blood.
You could have saved me.
TAYLOR: I don't see a gunshot or knife wound
or any significant laceration.
No bruising or injuries
consistent with a struggle.
HAWKES: Petechial hemorrhaging.
No evidence of strangulation.
It appears he bled out
through the nose, mouth and ears.
Directionality of these blood spatter patterns
suggest that he was dizzy.
That he barely could walk.
Erratic steps.
(grunts)
It's as if he was staggering and then collapsed.
FLACK: Was he sick?
Hemophilia, maybe?
'Cause there's no way this
is natural causes.
Possibly internal injuries or viral infection.
Or the only other murder weapon left:
Poison.
Hawkes?
What's wrong?
I assume if it was about the case, you would've just called.
I've made a mistake.
Okay.
I'm sure it's something we can work through.
You can tell me anything, Sheldon.
I may be responsible for the death of Martin Stafford.
Captioning sponsored by CBS
CSI NY PRODUCTIONS
and TOYOTA. Moving Forward.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fight for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪
I was working the day shift
with the volunteer medical unit.
I examined our vic, Martin Stafford,
in Central Park at roughly 4:00 yesterday afternoon.
Right about here.
(computer trilling)
Martin said he was feeling nauseous and dizzy,
fell over a few times,
then his nose started to bleed.
When was the last time you've eaten?
Lunch.
A couple hours ago.
HAWKES: He was with a young woman, I didn't get her name.
She made a call to medical dispatch
saying he had a nosebleed and was feeling nauseous.
Martin had been drinking.
And it was clear he was a bit drunk.
They both were.
And because of it,
I made assumptions and acted irresponsibly.
Well, I know you may think that
a bloody nose and a tummy ache is cause for some attention,
but there are people in this park
that are seriously injured that could use my help.
So the next time you need something,
why don't you call your mother?
Was there any abdominal cramping,
excessive perspiration?
I didn't see it.
Didn't look for it.
Didn't ask.
Later that evening, we found him here,
on the other side of the park.
It's not at all close to where he lives.
Maybe we can track
her cell phone call with the unit's dispatch
and get a number and a name.
I tried.
But the call was made using the victim's phone.
So, I spoke to Martin Stafford's neighbors.
Gave a description.
No one knows who this woman is.
Now, I know I should've mentioned this at the scene,
and I don't have a good answer as to why I didn't.
I just keep thinking that
if I would've gotten him to a hospital,
things could've turned out differently.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
You can't go back and save his life.
You can only move forward.
Solve his murder.
So let's start by finding that woman.
♪ ♪
A little gardening, Sid?
Uh, research.
Martin Stafford's tox screen was negative.
Not the outcome we expected.
So, you've ruled out poisoning?
Well, not at all.
A healthy body
doesn't spontaneously expel
five quarts of blood for no reason.
And according to his medical records,
Stafford was very healthy.
Which leads us back to your research.
Yeah, I'm looking for poisons
that are not only odorless and tasteless
but also hard to detect biochemically.
Perhaps one of them is our culprit.
There was definitely something in his system
that caused him to bleed to death.
Yes, but whatever foreign substance that was,
it quickly metabolized in his body, leaving no trace.
And no clue as to the identity of his killer.
So, was the poison ingested,
inhaled or injected?
Well, there was no sign
of any irritation to the nasal passages
or visible needle marks on the skin.
So, oral ingestion seems to be
the most logical option.
I did recover some sparse granular trace
from, uh, scratches in the victim's shoulder.
Related to C.O.D.?
Highly unlikely.
My most interesting discovery was this.
Linguini.
His dinner.
I found it on the victim's body.
Hmm, messy eater.
Well, that's the thing.
It was recovered from beneath his clothing
stuck to his inner thigh.
And more importantly, not a single strand
of linguini was found in our victim's stomach contents.
In fact, there was very little food in his stomach
at all.
Okay, that is odd.
Now, in order for it to stick and remain on our victim's skin,
the noodle must've still been wet, gooey,
the consistency of freshly cooked pasta.
Yeah.
the consistency of freshly cooked pasta.
Yeah.
Suggesting that it was prepared shortly before T.O.D.
It's unlikely it was the source of our poison
but it's certainly something to noodle on.
♪ ♪
HAWKES: Around 4:00 yesterday,
the guy had a bloody nose, there was a woman with him.
Yeah, I remember.
I was hoping you got her name.
I suggest you just head home
get some rest, sleep it off.
Hey.
Hey, what's up?
Nothing, just a big waste of time.
I gotta get to work.
That's the responsibility of the first doctor on scene.
That was you.
Yeah, well,
That was you.
Yeah, well,
well, listen, I need you to remember
whatever you can about that couple.
Did they mention where they were headed,
where they were coming from?
Anything they said could be helpful.
I don't think they knew each other very well.
I remember thinking it had to be a first date.
He asked her how far her apartment was.
But I didn't hear the response.
Other than that, I didn't talk to them much.
I didn't bother asking any questions.
You said they were a waste of my time.
Yeah, yeah.
Sheldon, what's wrong?
Nothing.
Thanks.
BONASERA: It's not gonna tell you what it is.
You're gonna have to analyze it.
I know.
It's just the granular sample that Sid gave you
is so small.
There's not much to work with.
I'm looking at basically one chance of getting it right.
GCMS.
Yeah,
but it's mixed with our victim's blood,
so that could alter the outcome of the analysis.
What does it look like under the scope?
Well...
It's got the structural
and compositional properties of talc,
but until I can look at it further,
I don't know if it came from paper, paint,
rubber, ceramic...
I surrender, I get the problem.
Sid recovered this trace from the scratches
on the victim's shoulder.
So until I can figure out what it is,
I don't know if the wound was caused by something or someone,
possibly our killer.
Well, we do have the sample library,
and when all else fails, ask EDNA.
EDNA.
Mac, I got prints and a hair
off the linguine Sid found on Stafford's body.
They belong to the vic?
Don't know yet; I'm waiting on a ten-card from Sid
and a match in AFIS, but in the meantime,
I did some digging into Stafford's background.
Seems like he was
some financial whiz kid.
Started Kensitron Software when he was 23 years old.
He put everything he had into that company,
but when the economy tanked,
Kensitron went down with it.
Stafford filed for bankruptcy three months ago.
He's liquidating the company.
Yeah, losing
everything that he built must have hit him hard.
Maybe we're looking
at a suicide?
No, nothing else suggests he fits that profile.
Search his apartment.
We know he ingested the poison.
See if you can find a source.
All right, I'll hobble my way over there.
Martin Stafford was a healthy businessman
with no prior arrests, not even a speeding ticket.
We got a cell phone filled with contacts
who all swear he was a great guy,
and yet no one's called us to find out
where we are in our investigation.
We usually get those calls.
Yeah, to be that young
and have no family,
no close friends, I mean, it's very sad.
A few people got close to him just before he died.
Danny just left to process the vic's apartment,
told me to give you this.
Found two partial prints
and a hair on the strand of linguine
recovered from Stafford's body.
Yeah, and each one of them belonged
to someone totally different.
Nothing belongs to our vic.
Danny get any hits
in CODIS or AFIS?
Nope. It does say here
that the two prints belong to women
and the hair belongs to a man.
Sounds like too many cooks in the kitchen to me.
Yeah, it still doesn't explain why the noodle we found
on his inner thigh was underneath his clothing.
(Ross laughing)
This guy was kinky with his food.
Care to elaborate on that?
I think he was sploshing.
A sploshing party is an event
where a group of people get together
and they experience food in a, uh, sensual way.
They, um,
caress their bodies
with foods of different textures and temperatures,
and it, uh... it arouses and stimulates and...
They say that it excites them and-and...
Well, I just, again, it's what I've-I've heard, I...
There are specific locations for these...?
Sploshing parties.
Oh, you can go to a Web site and get an invitation.
But I...
I've just heard. I...
♪ ♪
Yesterday was our Italian theme.
Tomorrow: vegan.
And this is our dessert course.
This takes place every day at lunch?
Yes, and we've just added dinner parties
on Friday and Saturday nights.
I can get you
a membership application.
God, no. Thank you.
(clears throat)
Do you know this man?
I'm sorry, I don't.
We believe he was here yesterday.
He wasn't.
Men have to be members to attend our events,
and he's not a member.
Are you sure about that?
Positive-- that's not a face I would easily forget.
You record these things?
Yes, for YouTube.
18,000 hits last week.
Excuse me a moment.
(people talking and laughing softly)
So when I'm grabbing a sandwich down at the corner deli,
this is what the corporate world does for lunch?
This definitely explains how Danny found
multiple fingerprints and hair on the linguine.
I see somebody we know.
What?
Over there.
(phone rings)
Messer.
FLACK: Walk to the window; I can see you right now.
See me? Straight across.
Big building.
Yeah, no, Flack,
I see you.
Yeah, I got a great view from here.
It's where our investigation led us.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
What-what the heck is going on over there?
Uh... sploshing party.
Sploshing?
Hey, you finding linguine in our vic's apartment?
No, there's not a linguine noodle
in this place, not much at all.
Super says the vic's apartment was going into foreclosure.
You see anything that might be our poison, give a ring.
Yeah, no, I'll let you know if I find anything.
You let me know if you find anything.
All right, will do.
All right, be careful over there, buddy.
Who, me?
Yeah.
It seems our vic had a bird's-eye view
of the hottest lunch party in town.
But he wasn't at the party.
So how did the linguine end up on his leg
and how did he end up dead?
Oh! Oh.
You all right?
Uh, yeah,
I was just evaporating the liquid sample
that Danny collected at the vic's apartment.
Then boom! (chuckles)
Which sample exploded?
Uh, it was the orange juice.
That flame doesn't give off much heat, so the orange juice had
to be spiked with something
highly flammable.
I can run it
through GCMS.
An injection port
on a GCMS runs at about 1,800 degrees Fahrenheit.
That will cause a bigger blaze
than the one you already created.
Yeah, I-I know, I know.
Yeah, so why don't you try
a liquid chromatography instead?
Uh...
Adam.
Yeah.
You okay?
Yeah.
You okay?
No, actually, I'm not.
Um, you notice anything different about the lab?
No.
Are you kidding me? I mean, she rearranged everything.
W-Well, not everything-- I mean,
she moved some things and organized.
Look, I take one day off
and she thinks she can just take over the lab.
She?
Haylen,
the part-time lab tech.
She's only part-time, so why doesn't she just come in,
clean some test tubes, and put them back where I like them,
not take over the lab?
You're upset because she moved some things?
(laughs)
Yeah.
(sighs)
MAN: Yo, yo, yo, Sheldon!
Hey!
Sheldon, you're late, man.
Hey, I'm sorry, man, I've been an hour behind
all day.
Keys to my place.
Thanks, Brian, I appreciate the favor.
Hey, no problem.
It means a lot to me.
You'll bounce back, Sheldon, I know you.
Thanks again, Brian.
(tires screeching)
Oh, whoa, an ant farm.
Isn't Lucy a little too young to have one of these?
I-I mean, you know, I didn't get
my first one till I was at least seven.
This is crime-solving science, Adam.
(snickers)
Check it out.
(snickers)
Check it out.
Draw a simple circle, then...
The granular substance that Sid found
in the victim's wound
is ant chalk.
Oh, cool, there's nowhere to go.
They're trapped.
Also known as Most Fabulous Insecticide Chalk.
Made in China.
"Kills cockroaches and ants effectively."
MONROE: After EDNA identified it...
...I ran it through the GCMS.
It contains deltamethrin and cypermethrin.
EPA pulled it off the market two years ago.
So if you can't buy it,
how did it end up on our vic?
Well, I found a Chinese import company
that sells this stuff online.
If we can get a subpoena, maybe they can get us a list
of everybody who has purchased this living in New York City.
Could be our first lead in identifying our killer.
One of the many perks of our profession,
huh, Doc?
You okay, buddy?
I'm fine.
You know what?
This is a disgrace to Italian cuisine.
Although I am getting hungry.
Freeze it right there.
Isolate that.
(typing)
That girl reminds me
of the woman I saw with Martin Stafford in the park.
Same hair color, same build.
(typing)
(groans) Can't see her face,
but she's definitely looking out
the window in the direction of Stafford's apartment.
(sucks teeth)
HAWKES: Zoom us in closer.
What's she doing?
She could be leaving us a clue.
Looks like a line.
No... it's an arrow.
All right, so it looks like the sploshing party
continued up here.
Trace of orange pulp in these plastic glasses.
Smells like vodka.
Whoa... that's not all they left behind.
Got body fluids here.
HAWKES: The woman from Central Park was wearing
a charm just like this.
Must have been a pair.
Tracy.
I figured out why the orange juice
combusted.
Oh!
It contained a high concentration
of dimethylnitrosamine.
It's found in photo processing,
cancer research, and rocket fuel.
When ingested, DMN acts as a hepatotoxin.
It attacks the liver
and disrupts blood clotting.
That explains
the uncontrollable bleeding
from our victim's mucous membrane.
Yeah, if it could launch a rocket, imagine what it could do
to your insides.
So, we've confirmed the source of the poison
and the cause of death.
We also found orange juice pulp
in the glasses from the rooftop.
Yeah, and the vic's prints were all over the cups and the flask.
Semen from the lounge chair also
came back to our vic, so we know he was there.
Okay, so our vic spies our mystery woman, Tracy,
at the sploshing party from his apartment across the street.
She invites him to meet her on the roof.
He's not about to let this
invitation go unanswered.
He pours some orange juice
from the pitcher in his fridge into a flask,
adds vodka, grabs glasses,
heads across the street.
BONASERA: While they're having sex up on the roof
a strand of linguini transfers from her body to his.
And he walks her home through Central Park
and that's when Stafford starts to feel nauseous.
A few hours later, he's dead.
I think I might've found Tracy.
A list of customers who purchased
ant chalk from the Web site include a Tracy Wallace.
She lives on the Upper West Side.
Okay, so she must've scratched our vic
during their sexcapade on the roof.
That's how the chalk transferred to his body.
This has got to be who we're looking for, no?
What is it, Mac?
There were two empty glasses on the roof.
BONASERA: And since the orange juice contained the poison...
We need to find this Tracy.
(sirens wailing)
(knocking on door)
FLACK: Tracy Wallace. NYPD.
We want to talk to you.
Tracy?
(key rattles in lock)
Tracy?
(key rattles in lock)
(water running)
Tracy!
FLACK: Clear here.
That's her.
Hey, I got to turn the water off.
No, wait.
TAYLOR (sniffing): There's a smell.
It's ozone.
(crackling and popping)
Circuit breaker?
Yeah. Down the hall.
Show me.
Yeah. Down the hall.
Show me.
FLACK (shouts): Breaker's off!
She's dead.
Cold.
Same clothes she was wearing in the park.
She's been here a while.
TAYLOR: Electricity entered her body there.
But there's no sign of inflammation
around the thermal burn.
Means she died
before she received the electric shock.
She bled out.
Just like Stafford.
She must've turned on the tub and then just passed out.
She died from the poison.
You could have helped us.
You could have saved us.
She's not the killer.
She's another victim.
The orange juice was in Stafford's apartment.
He was the target.
Tracy was just collateral damage.
Hey.
I found trace amounts
of DMN in Tracy Wallace's liver.
C.O.D. is the same as our first vic.
Looks like her blood alcohol was .09.
A lot lower than Martin's.
Could explain why the poison affected Stafford first--
more drinks, more poison.
Powerful pitcher of orange juice, huh, Sid?
There's now way Hawkes could've saved Tracy
or Martin Stafford.
So, somehow
someone got into Stafford's apartment and spiked the juice.
Hard part is going to be figuring out
when that happened.
Uh...
lividity.
Time of death can be determined
by the collection of blood in the body, right?
The heart stops pumping,
and blood settles
where gravity pulls it. Distinct
and visible discoloration of the skin occurs.
The process can vary depending on temperature
and conditions.
Now, if the corpse is moved,
lividity shifts, but there is
evidence of that movement
and we can still determine the proper time of death.
Same theory might apply
to the orange juice.
Yeah, I gotcha, Sid.
That we need to look at the evidence of the poison
on the glass of the pitcher.
Traces that might give us a timeline
of when it was added.
I suppose I could've said it that, yes.
Here we go.
May I?
Yes.
May I?
Yes.
Crystallization.
Yeah, I mean, if we can recreate this stage
of crystallization, maybe we can pinpoint
a day and a time when the juice was spiked.
You'll need the total volume of the containers,
an estimated total mass of poison,
and the exact temperature of Stafford's fridge.
Do you-you mind if I stick around for this?
This is your candy store, Sid.
(chuckling)
All right, Sid.
It's been four hours.
Take a look.
You know, based on the rate
of crystallization
we see here, we can already estimate
that the poison was
put in to Stafford's orange juice roughly...
48 hours ago.
All right,
that's great. So, that puts us back to...
Saturday.
Go through Stafford's computer, his PDA, phone messages.
I want the names of everyone he came in contact with on that day.
Someone laced that orange juice with poison.
I'll check in with the building's
doorman, see if Martin Stafford
received any deliveries or visitors.
His place is pretty empty. No tables, no chairs.
Packing boxes everywhere.
I doubt he was entertaining anyone.
I did recover a disposable bootie.
I just figured it was left behind by the movers.
You said
the apartment was in foreclosure, right?
Yeah.
Open house.
Ever think that dream apartment was just out of your reach?
Not anymore.
At RepoLux Tours we have over 3,000 foreclosed properties.
Just hop on the bus, and we'll introduce you
to the rest of your life.
RepoLux.
We make your dreams come true.
Martin Stafford's apartment was on the tour?
Saturday, ten people.
And it explains why Danny
found this little bootie on the floor. Everyone
who toured the apartment that day had to wear them.
Sounds like it's time for them to take a tour
of the precinct.
(car horns honking)
(indistinct chattering, phones ringing)
WOMAN: There were seven apartments
on our tour that day.
What time were you at Martin Stafford's apartment?
From 3:00 to 3:15.
These tours are usually pretty quick.
Lots of ground to cover these days.
I bet.
Did you notice anyone acting strange,
doing anything unusual?
No. I didn't.
Was anyone in the kitchen?
Around the refrigerator?
Once we get inside the properties,
the clients are free to wander around
on their own.
Most people find the kitchen very important.
Full walk-in closet in every bedroom.
And who can say that in Manhattan?
Gas fireplace in the master.
Perfect for you newlyweds.
And all these people here,
they were on your sign-up sheet?
Yes.
For our mailing list.
May I take a look at it?
Now, I thought you said that there were ten people
who signed on for the tour.
There are 11 names here.
Really?
There were only ten registered.
Only ten people on the bus.
Once in while we get looky-loo
who sneak in without paying for the tour.
This last name--
Thelonious Cross.
Do you remember meeting him?
No, I don't.
Everybody use the same pen?
I keep it with the book.
Clips on, that way
I never lose it.
Can you tell me when the police
are going to release the apartment?
Why do you ask?
It's a fabulous property.
I think I may have a buyer.
(hissing)
Hey.
Good news is I have prints.
Bad news, there's too many of them.
Let me see.
Overlapping.
Can't tell one from the other.
I'll try fluorescent tagging.
That could differentiate the prints.
And then I'll collect random samples
of fingerprint oil from the pen.
See if I can isolate any unique biomolecules.
Might tell us who this Thelonious Cross really is.
Right.
Have you talked to Sheldon?
(laughs)
I'm-I'm not sure what to say.
Guess my expectations are too high.
What do you mean?
Hawkes is a brilliant former surgeon.
And that being said, I know
that he couldn't have saved Martin Stafford's life
if he had tried.
But what's bugging me is I don't understand
why he didn't know more was wrong with him.
Why he didn't see the symptoms,
why he didn't tell us everything at the crime scene.
I've been asking myself those questions.
When Hawkes told me what happened, I was angry,
but I resisted giving him a lecture
or threatening modified duty, because...
it was Sheldon.
All I kept thinking was, this isn't like him.
It wasn't like him at all.
I suppose we do expect a lot out of each other.
(sighs)
Is that bad?
No.
(loud thudding)
Police! Hands up!
Let's go! Get your hands up!
That's not him. Move on!
Search the bedroom.
What the hell's going on?
Search the bedroom.
What the hell's going on?
We've got a warrant for a Brian Hamilton.
What's the charge?
Grand larceny.
Who are you?
Dr. Sheldon Hawkes, New York Crime Lab.
My badge and ID are in my pants.
Keep your hands above your head.
HAMILTON: What the hell are you doing?
Get your hands off me. Get your hands off me!
Come on, let's go.
HAMILTON: They got it wrong, Sheldon.
Right there.
I didn't do nothin'!
Right there.
I didn't do nothin'!
Come on, guys.
You got the wrong guy. It's a mix-up.
I had no idea Brian was wanted
for embezzlement. Okay, we went to college
together.
Just got reacquainted.
You were on his couch.
Yes.
I stay there sometimes when
I'm volunteering for the medical unit.
You know, I just get so beat,
I don't want to take the train home.
Shel?
What?
Shel?
What?
I know when someone's lying to me, and I'm not just talking
about the crooks I lock up every day. You got to help me out here.
I'm telling you what I know, Don, all right?
You can't possibly think that I'm involved in something
Brian was up to.
You're kidding me, right?
Huh?
Don?
I'm done.
Get out of here.
All right.
(door closes)
(door opens)
I'm fine.
Okay.
Bad judgment on my part.
I didn't know anything about what Hamilton was up to.
He's just somebody I hung out with.
We went to undergrad together.
Sheldon, stop.
This just all sounds a little too rehearsed for me.
These are the lines you practiced
in the back of the squad car?
What will I tell my boss? The D.A.?
The detective on the case?
You think I'm lying?
I think you're hiding something.
I would prefer you treat me as a friend
and not just another authority figure
looking for a reasonable explanation.
Look, I said this before.
You can tell me anything.
I would hope you'd trust that.
Hey, Mac.
I got something.
I identified a single compound that was foreign
to all the known print donors on the pen.
Tagged that compound with fluorescent dye.
It isolated a print?
(beeping)
John Simmons.
He lives in Queens and works for
Kensitron Software.
Martin Stafford's company.
Right. Now,
they develop software for the military,
so all their employees are fingerprinted.
This guy has no priors, no complaints.
Doesn't seem the type to leap to murder.
Yeah, I hear you.
I can't give you motive,
but Simmons' wife works
at a cancer research lab and has access to DMN,
our poison.
John Simmons is Thelonious Cross.
And he was in Martin's apartment.
(sirens wailing)
(panting)
TAYLOR: John!
(siren wailing, tires screeching)
Hey, Mac, try to cut him off.
All right? I'll stay behind him.
John!
(panting)
TAYLOR: John, wait! Don't do it!
Don't come any closer.
HAWKES: All right, all right.
We just want to talk.
FLACK: John!
We just want to talk.
FLACK: John!
What you're doing is very dangerous!
TAYLOR: You don't want to hurt yourself.
You don't want to hurt other people.
I don't care.
He didn't care.
Martin didn't care about other people.
He lost our entire pension fund.
I had to kill him.
He had to pay for the pain that he caused.
This is something we should talk about.
There's nothing to talk about.
There's nothing left.
What about your wife?
Your kids?
For what I've done...
I'll never see them again.
You know that.
And it doesn't matter anyway.
(panting) 'Cause I let them down.
HAWKES: John, don't do this.
Don't let this be their last memory of you.
Uh, yeah.
Don't let this be their last memory of you.
Uh, yeah.
Instead it should be the picture of a father or a husband
who can't provide for his family?
That son of a bitch took my money!
He invested the employees' pension, and he lost it all.
We trusted him!
I don't have anything.
I don't have a damn thing left after all those years.
TAYLOR: Look at me.
This isn't the way to fix it.
What? You gonna tell me that you understand?
You can't understand.
You can't possibly understand.
HAWKES: I do.
'Cause a month ago, I lost everything, too.
I trusted someone with my money
just like you did.
A money manager who turned out
to be a scam artist.
Now I'm living with friends.
Spending my nights out, begging for overtime,
but mostly, I just sit there wondering
what the hell happened.
And the worst about all this is
that it changed me, and I don't like what I've become.
The secrets I've kept, and the pride
that forced me to lie to my friends
and treat people unkind.
So,
it wasn't supposed to happen to me, John, was it?
No. Not me.
(crying)
But it did.
It did.
I had to sell my house,
spend all my savings and my retirement.
So, John, I do understand.
I do.
(crying)
I killed a man.
Give me your hand.
I don't want to.
No!
Let me go! Let me go!
(crying): Let me go.
(both grunting)
I'm sorry.
I didn't tell anyone because I was embarrassed.
I'm smart, educated,
and I was duped.
And it wasn't like John Simmons
or even his boss, Martin Stafford.
They just trusted in the economy, and it let 'em down.
Me, I got greedy.
Tried to play with the big boys, and I got stung.
It wasn't greed, Sheldon.
It's called optimism.
You didn't have to sell your condo.
I mean, you could have gone to the department,
asked for an emergency loan.
No, I was living with more than I needed.
I took the best offer while I had a chance.
Unfortunately, it was before I had another place to live, so,
ended up staying with a friend and...
You know my biggest disappointment
is that I may have to give up volunteering
with the medical unit.
With Angell dying, and then this money situation,
volunteering was the one thing
keeping me sane there for a while.
Don't you dare quit.
You enjoy it too much.
There are other options.
Hey.
I have an extra room.
It's not up for discussion.
Captioning sponsored by CBS
CSI NY PRODUCTIONS
and TOYOTA. Moving Forward.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org