CSI: NY s07e02 Episode Script
Unfriendly Chat
** ** ** ** You go, girl! Damn straight.
Sayonara.
** Hello.
Hello, yourself.
Uh Okay, uh Uh I dig your tunes.
And I like your moves.
Thanks.
They're both my own.
That's a good thing.
Oh, wow.
** Hmm.
- Here you go.
- Thank you.
Yeah.
Okay ** ** ** Where'd you go? Nowhere.
I am right here.
Hi.
Your eyes are kind.
Are they telling the truth? I, uh I hope so.
Uh I'm Adam.
What's your name? Nice to meet you, Adam.
A-- Adam? But if I told you my name, I'm afraid I'd have to kill you-- What the hell? Come on No! No No No! * Out here in the fields * * I fight for my meals * * I get my back into my living * * Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
* Mac! Mac! Mac! Come on, man.
Pick up, pick-- Pick up, pick up.
- Taylor.
- Mac! You gotta come back to the lab.
What? Why? Because-- Because I think I just saw a woman get murdered.
I was on Lookinatchu.
com.
And they open up a live text and video feed between two computers at random.
I'm more interested in what you think you saw, now.
Okay.
Um.
Well, the-- the attacker had a-- had a mask, and I'm pretty sure it was male, um, medium build, dark clothing, and gloves.
And he used some type of, uh, a thin cord to choke the victim with.
Did you run an image capture? I tried, and, um But by the time I hit "record," the-- the poor girl's life just came crashing straight down.
Tyler, you're 18 years old.
You're perfectly capable of putting Elliott to bed.
Then use duct tape.
There's pizza in the fridge, and I'll call you later.
I love you.
What is it with you boys? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails? Thanks for coming back in.
I caught Hawkes on his way out.
He's coming up.
You get a hold of anybody at the Web site? I did.
The Lookinatchu rep I spoke to in Stockholm said the site's a global platform, so its users are basically everywhere.
But the video transmission only exists between the two computers until someone gets nexted.
Nexted? Yeah, uh, well, if you, if you don't like someone, you just hit the return key and, well, it's called getting nexted.
Couldn't they track or record a chat from its servers? Unfortunately, no.
They basically give two strangers electronic room keys and leave the rest up to them.
So if you actually saw a woman being killed, we have no online evidence of it whatsoever.
No.
Not to mention the fact that depending on where it happened, it may not even be in our jurisdiction.
Are you absolutely sure, Adam, it was murder? While I was at the FBI, we saw hundreds of fake snuff films and Internet hoaxes every year-- staged suicides, bogus kidnappings.
It can be very convincing.
You're certain what you saw was real? I saw a man in black walk up behind a beautiful woman and choke the life right out of her.
I've never seen anyone get murdered before until tonight.
All right, then.
- We got our work cut out for us.
- No kidding.
We don't know who our killer is.
We don't know who our victim is.
And our crime scene could be anywhere in the world.
Okay, I'm locked and loaded on a dozen different databases.
Google to Interpol, LexisNexis, and every Bing in between.
All you gotta do is start talking, Adam.
That's just it.
I feel like I've forgotten everything, like I can't remember any of the details.
Well, that's not uncommon, when the brain experiences trauma.
Sometimes it locks up.
But not to worry, cause I always carry a spare set of keys.
Tell me about your first kiss.
My what? How old were you? What was her name? Um Okay, uh It was in the fifth grade.
Her name was Julie, and she lived across the street from me.
I won her a-- a stuffed blue dog at the county fair, and that's when she gave me the kiss.
What'd she look like? Long, dark hair brown, twinkly eyes, troublemaker smile.
What about the girl you saw this evening? Beautiful brunette, leafy green eyes, light olive skin - Early 20s, maybe? - Impressive.
Well, new memories are usually stored in the hippocampus, and then transferred to the brain's frontal lobes for long-term storage, but when a person's memory experiences traumatic collapse, sometimes you gotta dig from the other side, using memory triggers, potent emotions from the past, to unlock memories in the present.
She also had an accent, uh, it was like a-- a French accent, I think.
Olive skin says Moorish ancestry, maybe from the South of France-- Marseille, Cote d'Azur.
Yeah.
Okay.
Morocco, maybe? Come on, do you remember anything else about her place? Anything.
Not really.
Where were you standing when Julie gave you that kiss? Uh in her front yard.
She had this awesome lawn that we used to roll down, um, in our bathing suits.
What did you see near the Vic? I saw a white, curvy shape.
Uh, it was a-- It was a cloud.
It, uh a cloud.
It had the number 58 in it.
It was in the corner of a flat-panel TV screen, but I couldn't see the whole screen.
TV news and weather reports usually put current local temps in the corner.
Cross-reference a 58-degree temperature with the approximate time of 6:35, 6:40 Eastern.
All right.
Okay.
Six different major cities in the world reported a 58-degree temperature at that time.
Yeah, but wait a minute.
It was only 2:35 in the morning in Moscow, and at 12:35 A.
M.
, it rules out Paris and Johannesburg.
But look at that.
New York was the only city at that temp running the local news.
She's in Manhattan.
No! I also saw another woman's face outside her window.
It was a stone face, and it had, uh oval eyes, and these big steel rays coming out of some kind of headdress.
Search Female anthropomorphic architectural design Headdress, stone That's it.
Okay.
We've got a location.
It's a sculptural relief on an old Midtown building from the 30's.
She appears on all four sides of the tower.
But look at this.
There's only one adjacent structure tall enough to see her from the window.
We're clear.
That's her.
Adam, you all right? I've been better.
You want to talk about it? What's there to say? He strangled her, she died end of transmission.
I'm gonna wait in the car.
Our Vic's name is Sass Dumonde.
She's years 20 old.
She moved here from Paris on a music scholarship to Chelsea.
Everything about her-- clothes, hair, apartment decor-- speaks of an open, free spirit.
Which could mean she might not have made the smartest choices about who she spent her time with.
- She live alone? - No roommate.
According to the landlord, she was a model tenant.
He never had a problem with her.
Well, somebody certainly did.
- Yeah? - You're being ridiculous.
- What? - You deal with death every day.
This case is no different.
Man up.
Are you kidding me? Jo, I saw this girl alive.
She's not just another dead body on the slab to me.
Oh, no, did you just do that so I'd spill my guts? Oh, damn it.
Sorry, Adam.
You can't keep your feelings bottled up.
Contents may explode under pressure.
Okay, look, you said something to Mac a few minutes ago - that just kind of stuck with me.
- What's that? You used the words "end of transmission.
" - Do you mean you got nexted? - Oh, I guess.
Yeah, there was a few seconds after the computer fell and then the chat was terminated.
So someone else out there could have seen what happened next.
Looks like strangulation.
Ligature marks are consistent with Adam's description of a fine cord.
It doesn't look like one of these, though.
Cord's too thick.
These iPads died a horrible death, too.
Got a few smudge prints.
Can't say for sure without further analysis, but, uh, their size seems to be a bit masculine for her fingers.
Wait a minute.
Our murder weapon isn't the only thing that's missing.
What do you mean? Well, don't you need a computer to chat on Lookinatchu? - Didn't Adam say she was on a laptop? - Yeah, you're right.
Perp must have taken it with him.
Well, if he did, he came in and out like he owned the place.
There's no obvious signs of B & E.
This is an old building.
Lucy can pick that lock.
Or maybe our perp had a key.
Whatever happened, Sass Dumonde was listening to her music.
** She probably had it up too loud.
Before she knew what was happening he strangled her.
This doesn't feel like just a murder.
No.
Whoever killed this woman definitely wanted more.
Hey, Mac.
How did we get from eight-track tapes and shoe-sized rotary phones to this? Einstein said, "Innovation is not the product of logical thought.
" Yeah, well, that's all fun and gigabytes until somebody gets killed.
Adam was nexted immediately after the attack.
So, in hopes of finding someone who saw what happened afterwards, I got our Swedish friends at Lookinatchu to allow multiple postings of Sass Dumonde's photo.
Ah, good.
How often will it run? Every two connections to the site.
Worldwide, that's approximately nexting an average of every 90 seconds.
Well, let's hope that one of them actually saw something after Adam got nexted, and is willing to tell us about it.
Well, like my daddy used to say, "If you want the fruit, sometimes you got to go out on a limb.
" * You, you saw right through * * That's, that's when I knew * * That I, I wanted you * * But you, you called out too soon * * You, you saw right through * * You, you saw right through * * I was happy to know you, baby * * Won't you ask me what you want, please, baby? * * How can I sleep? * * Always gave you chances, chances * * You gave me answers, answers * * I gave you chances, chances * * You gave me answers, answers * I've been trying to locate our missing laptop.
There was only one computer Adam was connected to when Sass Dumonde was killed.
- It has to be hers.
- Then ping it and find the current location.
That's what we've been trying to do.
But its IP address is part of a corporate pool, so it changes every time the user logs on from a different location.
- Then find out who owns the pool.
- We did.
It belongs to a private server at Dragga Financial.
The big Wall Street investment firm.
Yeah, with 5,000, employees.
Only Sass wasn't one of them.
Then the computer might not be hers to begin with.
Right.
So even with the company's user logs, finding a constantly changing address is like finding a needle in a stack of needles.
There's got to be another way.
There is.
Every computer accesses the Internet through a series of virtual ports, all right? I could dig into Dragga Financial's network and find a computer with a matching port and seize it with a virus.
Right? Then I'd be able to remotely control everything on Sass's laptop from her keyboard to her camera.
Means we'd be hacking.
Well, it's the only way we can look this perp in the eye without him knowing.
We could find out exactly where he is.
lllegally, and we couldn't use it.
Mac, look, I saw this girl get murdered.
The answer is no, Adam.
Just because you were a witness to a crime doesn't mean we need to start committing them.
Professor William Aldicott? - Yes.
- NYPD.
Do you own a pair of Yoneshiga C-5 headphones? Well, I did, but they were stolen.
Why, did you find them? Well, we found biocellulose residue left behind by one of their broken diaphragms.
Yeah, that and a splintered fragment of the rare wood used to make them.
And don't forget the serial number.
That's what brought us to you.
Those things are rare.
And expensive.
What were they, six grand a pair? That's big money for a faculty salary, huh? Wait, I'm confused.
You didn't find them? No.
Sorry.
You know what we did find, though? We did find Sass Dumonde's dead body.
According to the university she was in your class last semester.
We found her strangled to death with your fancy headphones.
That's pretty harsh.
I mean, I failed calculus, but my teacher didn't kill me.
Wait a minute.
You got this all wrong.
See, I'm the victim here.
You're the victim? Ms.
Dumonde took my composition class, and she turned in this fluffy piece of pop for her final, then had the audacity to claim that I stole the melody for my own doctoral thesis.
- So did you? - I did not.
But I should have filed my own complaint after she sicced her boyfriend on me.
Stop! That hurts! Good.
Now you know how my girl feels.
So why didn't you file a complaint? I'm this close to getting tenure.
I don't need any more trouble.
Well, it's a little late for that, Professor.
You know anything else about her boyfriend? Did you get a good look at him? How about a name? Give us a name.
I was too busy kissing the keys for a formal introduction.
Detectives, I'm no fan of Sass Dumonde's, but I wouldn't have killed her for anything.
Not even a song? Hi.
Aren't you a little young to be on a site like this? I don't know.
Hey, do you know what makes fireflies glow? It's a chemical reaction between luciferin, oxygen, molecular adenosine triphosphate.
Huh? They have these special cells in their tails called photocytes that produce light.
Is it controlled by their nervous system? It is.
Then can you tell me the difference between a larva and a pupa? No, no, no, no, no.
You, uh-- You do your own homework and turn this thing off.
You must not have kids.
Somebody besides the Vic definitely left a few partials on the iPads.
I'm running a print assembly algorithm now.
Meanwhile, I discovered all three iPads are registered to different users, and each had a theft complaint in the system.
So they were stolen, too.
We got a hit on Lookinatchu.
There's a father in Michigan.
He installed a network logger on his daughter's computer.
So he could keep tabs on all the sites she visits? - Right.
- Brilliant.
Yeah, it gets better.
It turns out his daughter was on Lookinatchu at the time of the murder.
He saw our post.
He sent us this video capture.
We're looking into the eyes of our killer.
So the perp is definitely male.
Brown eyes, dark lashes, tan skin, from what we can see.
It's hard to tell much more than that.
Might be worth trying to run it through digital enhancement? Give it a shot.
See what you get.
Maybe it'll turn out to be this guy.
Those partial prints you ran were a match in AFIS to some lowlife named Torrey Powell.
He's got multiple priors for assault and portable electronics theft.
I didn't kill Sass.
Oh, no? 'Cause we found a key to Sass Dumonde's apartment on your keychain your fingerprints on three stolen iPads that were in her possession.
And we know that you took her Professor's headphones.
So? Those headphones were used to strangle her.
- See how it all kinda works together? - I'm innocent.
With priors for theft and assault? I don't think so.
How long were you and Sass dating? Few months, maybe.
I haven't seen her in a while.
Really? 'Cause we found fresh prints that belonged to you on her iPads.
Stolen iPads.
When was the last time you saw her, Torrey? I stopped by her place last week for a little action.
- And? - She turned me down.
Is that when you gave her the stolen laptop? I always came bearing gifts.
- But once she sent me packing-- - She was dead to you.
- That it? - I didn't kill her, man.
Where'd you get the computer? Some rich tool left it in the front seat of his car.
- What kind of car? - I didn't notice.
That's funny, because you know what I've noticed? You swallow a lot.
I mean a lot a lot.
I don't mean to make you feel self-conscious.
It's a common OCD anxiety disorder.
And I would recommend exercise or some kind of organized sports to keep your mind focused on something else.
But since those really aren't an option now, you're kinda screwed.
Unless Unless what? Well, the sympathetic nervous system is responsible for your body's reaction to stress, and right now, there's no question you're under a great deal of that.
So you're gonna need to really figure out how to alleviate that somehow.
How about by telling us the truth, Torrey? It's a matter of your personal safety.
What the hell kinda mind games are you playing, lady? Listen, I'm just saying you can remain uncooperative or you can try to lie and then perjure yourself.
But the whole time, you're just gonna keep on swallowing and swallowing and swallowing and swallowing, swallowing.
All right! I boosted it from a Beemer, silver sedan.
Now you got me thirsty.
So what do you think? Do you like this guy as a suspect? Given what little description we have on our perp, he does look similar.
But I'd still like you to pull all the burglary reports matching the BMW that he told us about.
You thinking it might belong to someone at Dragga Financial? If it does, and we can find the laptop that was stolen from it, it might just give us the one thing we're missing.
- What's that? - Motive.
* This is a demonstration * How's it looking? Believe it or not, I think this computer may have just unmasked our man.
Similar facial structure to the Professor, but wrong skin color.
And the hair may be closer to the boyfriend, but the brow and cheekbones are off.
So the more we see, the less we know.
Damn it.
Who is this guy? Hello, my dear.
Oh, my.
Whoa.
Oh.
Evening, ma'am.
Oh, hi.
Where are you tonight? Second Marine Division, uh, Bagram, Afghanistan.
You're a long way from home.
Just feel like chatting? I only got a few more hours of leave.
My wife and kids are already asleep back in Alabama.
Roll Tide.
Where are you? New York City.
- Wow.
Really? - Yeah.
I've never been there.
Always wanted to, though.
Come on.
How's that look to ya? Wow.
That's a whole lot better than sand.
My name's Adam.
Nice to meet you, Adam.
A-- Adam? Wow.
What are you doing, Adam? You know, peeking in the window may not be burglary, but you can still get busted for intent.
Yeah, you don't understand.
Which part? Breeching the firewall at Dragga Financial? Remotely accessing a company's computer? I got in.
I know that.
You know how I know that? Because I got a courtesy call from an old friend of mine at the FBI.
Turns out the Feds have been investigating Dragga Financial for all sorts of shenanigans.
In fact, they were kind enough to share their files with me, pretty much all of it.
But they weren't too keen on seeing an NYPD computer digging around in their sandbox.
Okay, that's great.
But I know why you're here.
I've heard about your rep.
So what, are you gonna blow the whistle on me now, too? You don't want to go there.
Me leaving the Bureau to come here was about conviction and evidence and doing my job.
Okay.
I'm sorry.
That was-- That wasn't fair.
Okay? It just I shared the final moments of Sass Dumonde's life.
I heard her music.
I saw her joy.
I-- I maybe even fell in love a little.
And then, three minutes later, it was-- It was just over.
When you cross paths with people like that, it's hard not to stop in your tracks.
But believe me when I tell you, none of what you're doing now will bring her back.
It will only bring you down.
- What do I do now, though? - Go home.
Go to bed.
Come back in the morning ready to do what's right.
Okay.
Grand larceny report was filed back in June.
A silver BMW registered to Christopher Garcia.
Boosted it from a Beemer, silver sedan.
Claimed he lost a bag and some personal items.
No mention of the computer? No, but he also happens to be an I.
T.
manager with four years under his belt at Dragga Financial.
Then he'd have all the expertise necessary for tracking a stolen computer down.
Check out his company snapshot.
He's got an office down on Wall Street.
Supervisor says he usually works late.
Then, by all means, let's pay him a visit.
There you go.
Don.
If Adam saw him, he saw Adam.
Oh, no.
Really? She's already told him? Mac, look, I am so sorry.
Where are you now, Adam? I'm just on the rooftop, uh, heading to my car.
Adam! All available units, all available units, please respond to a 10-13 in progress.
Upper level, New York Crime Lab parking garage.
Don't move! We got him! Mr.
Garcia, you have the right to remain silent.
Nice chatting with you.
You have the right to speak to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided So, Garcia was on the take? According to the Feds, he stole the software to Dragga Financial's online trading system and was brokering a sale to some contacts in Caracas.
But he had it all on his laptop.
So, when it got stolen, he panicked.
Finally managed to hunt it down in Sass Dumonde's apartment and took it back.
Along with her life.
** What are you listening to? Sass Dumonde.
This is that track that the professor and Adam were talking about.
I downloaded it from her Web site.
It's pretty catchy, don't you think? It's not bad.
She definitely had some talent.
Yeah, not to mention technology.
Think about it.
A few of these and a laptop, and she's able to write, record her own music, post it online for millions of people to hear, and then text and video-chat with God knows how many more.
Well, that's great, but how long before more is too much? I don't know, but you know, we already opened the 21st century, Danny.
I think it's too late to send it back.
Yeah, well, you're probably right about that, but just to be clear, though, Lucy is never going near a computer, okay? Just, ever.
Okay.
But she does have, uh, a laptop lab at her preschool, and she can use my iPhone better than I can.
Damn it.
prides itself on integrity does not tolerate B.
S.
You think you're irreplaceable here in this lab? Why would you defy You're on three days suspension.
** All right.
Whoa.
Look who it is.
It's Obi-Wannabe Kenobi.
Ooh, you got to be hurting a little bit today, huh, man? I got a, uh, you know, three-day suspension.
- It's pretty painful.
- Ah, come on.
Hacking after Mac told you not to? You're lucky he didn't suspend you from the flagpole out front.
Yeah, you go home, lick your wounds, catch up on your soaps.
You'll be fine.
Yeah, you'll be back kicking Jedi ass before the end of the week.
I can't hear you.
Arr Hey there You got to be kidding me.
What are the odds, right? Hey, I was just doing some final research before we close the case.
Some serious scientific analysis, I'm sure.
Of course.
Oh, since I've got you I sent all the files from Garcia's laptop to the Bureau.
They were extremely appreciative.
Said it would probably drive the final nail into Dragga's coffin.
Well, it nearly drove it into Adam's.
Bet that conversation wasn't fun.
He defied a direct order.
It had to be done.
Bet he was wishing you had a "next" button in your office.
As a matter of fact, I do, and it's right here.
- You wouldn't.
- I might.
Not if I next you first.
Sayonara.
** Hello.
Hello, yourself.
Uh Okay, uh Uh I dig your tunes.
And I like your moves.
Thanks.
They're both my own.
That's a good thing.
Oh, wow.
** Hmm.
- Here you go.
- Thank you.
Yeah.
Okay ** ** ** Where'd you go? Nowhere.
I am right here.
Hi.
Your eyes are kind.
Are they telling the truth? I, uh I hope so.
Uh I'm Adam.
What's your name? Nice to meet you, Adam.
A-- Adam? But if I told you my name, I'm afraid I'd have to kill you-- What the hell? Come on No! No No No! * Out here in the fields * * I fight for my meals * * I get my back into my living * * Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
* Mac! Mac! Mac! Come on, man.
Pick up, pick-- Pick up, pick up.
- Taylor.
- Mac! You gotta come back to the lab.
What? Why? Because-- Because I think I just saw a woman get murdered.
I was on Lookinatchu.
com.
And they open up a live text and video feed between two computers at random.
I'm more interested in what you think you saw, now.
Okay.
Um.
Well, the-- the attacker had a-- had a mask, and I'm pretty sure it was male, um, medium build, dark clothing, and gloves.
And he used some type of, uh, a thin cord to choke the victim with.
Did you run an image capture? I tried, and, um But by the time I hit "record," the-- the poor girl's life just came crashing straight down.
Tyler, you're 18 years old.
You're perfectly capable of putting Elliott to bed.
Then use duct tape.
There's pizza in the fridge, and I'll call you later.
I love you.
What is it with you boys? Snips and snails and puppy dog tails? Thanks for coming back in.
I caught Hawkes on his way out.
He's coming up.
You get a hold of anybody at the Web site? I did.
The Lookinatchu rep I spoke to in Stockholm said the site's a global platform, so its users are basically everywhere.
But the video transmission only exists between the two computers until someone gets nexted.
Nexted? Yeah, uh, well, if you, if you don't like someone, you just hit the return key and, well, it's called getting nexted.
Couldn't they track or record a chat from its servers? Unfortunately, no.
They basically give two strangers electronic room keys and leave the rest up to them.
So if you actually saw a woman being killed, we have no online evidence of it whatsoever.
No.
Not to mention the fact that depending on where it happened, it may not even be in our jurisdiction.
Are you absolutely sure, Adam, it was murder? While I was at the FBI, we saw hundreds of fake snuff films and Internet hoaxes every year-- staged suicides, bogus kidnappings.
It can be very convincing.
You're certain what you saw was real? I saw a man in black walk up behind a beautiful woman and choke the life right out of her.
I've never seen anyone get murdered before until tonight.
All right, then.
- We got our work cut out for us.
- No kidding.
We don't know who our killer is.
We don't know who our victim is.
And our crime scene could be anywhere in the world.
Okay, I'm locked and loaded on a dozen different databases.
Google to Interpol, LexisNexis, and every Bing in between.
All you gotta do is start talking, Adam.
That's just it.
I feel like I've forgotten everything, like I can't remember any of the details.
Well, that's not uncommon, when the brain experiences trauma.
Sometimes it locks up.
But not to worry, cause I always carry a spare set of keys.
Tell me about your first kiss.
My what? How old were you? What was her name? Um Okay, uh It was in the fifth grade.
Her name was Julie, and she lived across the street from me.
I won her a-- a stuffed blue dog at the county fair, and that's when she gave me the kiss.
What'd she look like? Long, dark hair brown, twinkly eyes, troublemaker smile.
What about the girl you saw this evening? Beautiful brunette, leafy green eyes, light olive skin - Early 20s, maybe? - Impressive.
Well, new memories are usually stored in the hippocampus, and then transferred to the brain's frontal lobes for long-term storage, but when a person's memory experiences traumatic collapse, sometimes you gotta dig from the other side, using memory triggers, potent emotions from the past, to unlock memories in the present.
She also had an accent, uh, it was like a-- a French accent, I think.
Olive skin says Moorish ancestry, maybe from the South of France-- Marseille, Cote d'Azur.
Yeah.
Okay.
Morocco, maybe? Come on, do you remember anything else about her place? Anything.
Not really.
Where were you standing when Julie gave you that kiss? Uh in her front yard.
She had this awesome lawn that we used to roll down, um, in our bathing suits.
What did you see near the Vic? I saw a white, curvy shape.
Uh, it was a-- It was a cloud.
It, uh a cloud.
It had the number 58 in it.
It was in the corner of a flat-panel TV screen, but I couldn't see the whole screen.
TV news and weather reports usually put current local temps in the corner.
Cross-reference a 58-degree temperature with the approximate time of 6:35, 6:40 Eastern.
All right.
Okay.
Six different major cities in the world reported a 58-degree temperature at that time.
Yeah, but wait a minute.
It was only 2:35 in the morning in Moscow, and at 12:35 A.
M.
, it rules out Paris and Johannesburg.
But look at that.
New York was the only city at that temp running the local news.
She's in Manhattan.
No! I also saw another woman's face outside her window.
It was a stone face, and it had, uh oval eyes, and these big steel rays coming out of some kind of headdress.
Search Female anthropomorphic architectural design Headdress, stone That's it.
Okay.
We've got a location.
It's a sculptural relief on an old Midtown building from the 30's.
She appears on all four sides of the tower.
But look at this.
There's only one adjacent structure tall enough to see her from the window.
We're clear.
That's her.
Adam, you all right? I've been better.
You want to talk about it? What's there to say? He strangled her, she died end of transmission.
I'm gonna wait in the car.
Our Vic's name is Sass Dumonde.
She's years 20 old.
She moved here from Paris on a music scholarship to Chelsea.
Everything about her-- clothes, hair, apartment decor-- speaks of an open, free spirit.
Which could mean she might not have made the smartest choices about who she spent her time with.
- She live alone? - No roommate.
According to the landlord, she was a model tenant.
He never had a problem with her.
Well, somebody certainly did.
- Yeah? - You're being ridiculous.
- What? - You deal with death every day.
This case is no different.
Man up.
Are you kidding me? Jo, I saw this girl alive.
She's not just another dead body on the slab to me.
Oh, no, did you just do that so I'd spill my guts? Oh, damn it.
Sorry, Adam.
You can't keep your feelings bottled up.
Contents may explode under pressure.
Okay, look, you said something to Mac a few minutes ago - that just kind of stuck with me.
- What's that? You used the words "end of transmission.
" - Do you mean you got nexted? - Oh, I guess.
Yeah, there was a few seconds after the computer fell and then the chat was terminated.
So someone else out there could have seen what happened next.
Looks like strangulation.
Ligature marks are consistent with Adam's description of a fine cord.
It doesn't look like one of these, though.
Cord's too thick.
These iPads died a horrible death, too.
Got a few smudge prints.
Can't say for sure without further analysis, but, uh, their size seems to be a bit masculine for her fingers.
Wait a minute.
Our murder weapon isn't the only thing that's missing.
What do you mean? Well, don't you need a computer to chat on Lookinatchu? - Didn't Adam say she was on a laptop? - Yeah, you're right.
Perp must have taken it with him.
Well, if he did, he came in and out like he owned the place.
There's no obvious signs of B & E.
This is an old building.
Lucy can pick that lock.
Or maybe our perp had a key.
Whatever happened, Sass Dumonde was listening to her music.
** She probably had it up too loud.
Before she knew what was happening he strangled her.
This doesn't feel like just a murder.
No.
Whoever killed this woman definitely wanted more.
Hey, Mac.
How did we get from eight-track tapes and shoe-sized rotary phones to this? Einstein said, "Innovation is not the product of logical thought.
" Yeah, well, that's all fun and gigabytes until somebody gets killed.
Adam was nexted immediately after the attack.
So, in hopes of finding someone who saw what happened afterwards, I got our Swedish friends at Lookinatchu to allow multiple postings of Sass Dumonde's photo.
Ah, good.
How often will it run? Every two connections to the site.
Worldwide, that's approximately nexting an average of every 90 seconds.
Well, let's hope that one of them actually saw something after Adam got nexted, and is willing to tell us about it.
Well, like my daddy used to say, "If you want the fruit, sometimes you got to go out on a limb.
" * You, you saw right through * * That's, that's when I knew * * That I, I wanted you * * But you, you called out too soon * * You, you saw right through * * You, you saw right through * * I was happy to know you, baby * * Won't you ask me what you want, please, baby? * * How can I sleep? * * Always gave you chances, chances * * You gave me answers, answers * * I gave you chances, chances * * You gave me answers, answers * I've been trying to locate our missing laptop.
There was only one computer Adam was connected to when Sass Dumonde was killed.
- It has to be hers.
- Then ping it and find the current location.
That's what we've been trying to do.
But its IP address is part of a corporate pool, so it changes every time the user logs on from a different location.
- Then find out who owns the pool.
- We did.
It belongs to a private server at Dragga Financial.
The big Wall Street investment firm.
Yeah, with 5,000, employees.
Only Sass wasn't one of them.
Then the computer might not be hers to begin with.
Right.
So even with the company's user logs, finding a constantly changing address is like finding a needle in a stack of needles.
There's got to be another way.
There is.
Every computer accesses the Internet through a series of virtual ports, all right? I could dig into Dragga Financial's network and find a computer with a matching port and seize it with a virus.
Right? Then I'd be able to remotely control everything on Sass's laptop from her keyboard to her camera.
Means we'd be hacking.
Well, it's the only way we can look this perp in the eye without him knowing.
We could find out exactly where he is.
lllegally, and we couldn't use it.
Mac, look, I saw this girl get murdered.
The answer is no, Adam.
Just because you were a witness to a crime doesn't mean we need to start committing them.
Professor William Aldicott? - Yes.
- NYPD.
Do you own a pair of Yoneshiga C-5 headphones? Well, I did, but they were stolen.
Why, did you find them? Well, we found biocellulose residue left behind by one of their broken diaphragms.
Yeah, that and a splintered fragment of the rare wood used to make them.
And don't forget the serial number.
That's what brought us to you.
Those things are rare.
And expensive.
What were they, six grand a pair? That's big money for a faculty salary, huh? Wait, I'm confused.
You didn't find them? No.
Sorry.
You know what we did find, though? We did find Sass Dumonde's dead body.
According to the university she was in your class last semester.
We found her strangled to death with your fancy headphones.
That's pretty harsh.
I mean, I failed calculus, but my teacher didn't kill me.
Wait a minute.
You got this all wrong.
See, I'm the victim here.
You're the victim? Ms.
Dumonde took my composition class, and she turned in this fluffy piece of pop for her final, then had the audacity to claim that I stole the melody for my own doctoral thesis.
- So did you? - I did not.
But I should have filed my own complaint after she sicced her boyfriend on me.
Stop! That hurts! Good.
Now you know how my girl feels.
So why didn't you file a complaint? I'm this close to getting tenure.
I don't need any more trouble.
Well, it's a little late for that, Professor.
You know anything else about her boyfriend? Did you get a good look at him? How about a name? Give us a name.
I was too busy kissing the keys for a formal introduction.
Detectives, I'm no fan of Sass Dumonde's, but I wouldn't have killed her for anything.
Not even a song? Hi.
Aren't you a little young to be on a site like this? I don't know.
Hey, do you know what makes fireflies glow? It's a chemical reaction between luciferin, oxygen, molecular adenosine triphosphate.
Huh? They have these special cells in their tails called photocytes that produce light.
Is it controlled by their nervous system? It is.
Then can you tell me the difference between a larva and a pupa? No, no, no, no, no.
You, uh-- You do your own homework and turn this thing off.
You must not have kids.
Somebody besides the Vic definitely left a few partials on the iPads.
I'm running a print assembly algorithm now.
Meanwhile, I discovered all three iPads are registered to different users, and each had a theft complaint in the system.
So they were stolen, too.
We got a hit on Lookinatchu.
There's a father in Michigan.
He installed a network logger on his daughter's computer.
So he could keep tabs on all the sites she visits? - Right.
- Brilliant.
Yeah, it gets better.
It turns out his daughter was on Lookinatchu at the time of the murder.
He saw our post.
He sent us this video capture.
We're looking into the eyes of our killer.
So the perp is definitely male.
Brown eyes, dark lashes, tan skin, from what we can see.
It's hard to tell much more than that.
Might be worth trying to run it through digital enhancement? Give it a shot.
See what you get.
Maybe it'll turn out to be this guy.
Those partial prints you ran were a match in AFIS to some lowlife named Torrey Powell.
He's got multiple priors for assault and portable electronics theft.
I didn't kill Sass.
Oh, no? 'Cause we found a key to Sass Dumonde's apartment on your keychain your fingerprints on three stolen iPads that were in her possession.
And we know that you took her Professor's headphones.
So? Those headphones were used to strangle her.
- See how it all kinda works together? - I'm innocent.
With priors for theft and assault? I don't think so.
How long were you and Sass dating? Few months, maybe.
I haven't seen her in a while.
Really? 'Cause we found fresh prints that belonged to you on her iPads.
Stolen iPads.
When was the last time you saw her, Torrey? I stopped by her place last week for a little action.
- And? - She turned me down.
Is that when you gave her the stolen laptop? I always came bearing gifts.
- But once she sent me packing-- - She was dead to you.
- That it? - I didn't kill her, man.
Where'd you get the computer? Some rich tool left it in the front seat of his car.
- What kind of car? - I didn't notice.
That's funny, because you know what I've noticed? You swallow a lot.
I mean a lot a lot.
I don't mean to make you feel self-conscious.
It's a common OCD anxiety disorder.
And I would recommend exercise or some kind of organized sports to keep your mind focused on something else.
But since those really aren't an option now, you're kinda screwed.
Unless Unless what? Well, the sympathetic nervous system is responsible for your body's reaction to stress, and right now, there's no question you're under a great deal of that.
So you're gonna need to really figure out how to alleviate that somehow.
How about by telling us the truth, Torrey? It's a matter of your personal safety.
What the hell kinda mind games are you playing, lady? Listen, I'm just saying you can remain uncooperative or you can try to lie and then perjure yourself.
But the whole time, you're just gonna keep on swallowing and swallowing and swallowing and swallowing, swallowing.
All right! I boosted it from a Beemer, silver sedan.
Now you got me thirsty.
So what do you think? Do you like this guy as a suspect? Given what little description we have on our perp, he does look similar.
But I'd still like you to pull all the burglary reports matching the BMW that he told us about.
You thinking it might belong to someone at Dragga Financial? If it does, and we can find the laptop that was stolen from it, it might just give us the one thing we're missing.
- What's that? - Motive.
* This is a demonstration * How's it looking? Believe it or not, I think this computer may have just unmasked our man.
Similar facial structure to the Professor, but wrong skin color.
And the hair may be closer to the boyfriend, but the brow and cheekbones are off.
So the more we see, the less we know.
Damn it.
Who is this guy? Hello, my dear.
Oh, my.
Whoa.
Oh.
Evening, ma'am.
Oh, hi.
Where are you tonight? Second Marine Division, uh, Bagram, Afghanistan.
You're a long way from home.
Just feel like chatting? I only got a few more hours of leave.
My wife and kids are already asleep back in Alabama.
Roll Tide.
Where are you? New York City.
- Wow.
Really? - Yeah.
I've never been there.
Always wanted to, though.
Come on.
How's that look to ya? Wow.
That's a whole lot better than sand.
My name's Adam.
Nice to meet you, Adam.
A-- Adam? Wow.
What are you doing, Adam? You know, peeking in the window may not be burglary, but you can still get busted for intent.
Yeah, you don't understand.
Which part? Breeching the firewall at Dragga Financial? Remotely accessing a company's computer? I got in.
I know that.
You know how I know that? Because I got a courtesy call from an old friend of mine at the FBI.
Turns out the Feds have been investigating Dragga Financial for all sorts of shenanigans.
In fact, they were kind enough to share their files with me, pretty much all of it.
But they weren't too keen on seeing an NYPD computer digging around in their sandbox.
Okay, that's great.
But I know why you're here.
I've heard about your rep.
So what, are you gonna blow the whistle on me now, too? You don't want to go there.
Me leaving the Bureau to come here was about conviction and evidence and doing my job.
Okay.
I'm sorry.
That was-- That wasn't fair.
Okay? It just I shared the final moments of Sass Dumonde's life.
I heard her music.
I saw her joy.
I-- I maybe even fell in love a little.
And then, three minutes later, it was-- It was just over.
When you cross paths with people like that, it's hard not to stop in your tracks.
But believe me when I tell you, none of what you're doing now will bring her back.
It will only bring you down.
- What do I do now, though? - Go home.
Go to bed.
Come back in the morning ready to do what's right.
Okay.
Grand larceny report was filed back in June.
A silver BMW registered to Christopher Garcia.
Boosted it from a Beemer, silver sedan.
Claimed he lost a bag and some personal items.
No mention of the computer? No, but he also happens to be an I.
T.
manager with four years under his belt at Dragga Financial.
Then he'd have all the expertise necessary for tracking a stolen computer down.
Check out his company snapshot.
He's got an office down on Wall Street.
Supervisor says he usually works late.
Then, by all means, let's pay him a visit.
There you go.
Don.
If Adam saw him, he saw Adam.
Oh, no.
Really? She's already told him? Mac, look, I am so sorry.
Where are you now, Adam? I'm just on the rooftop, uh, heading to my car.
Adam! All available units, all available units, please respond to a 10-13 in progress.
Upper level, New York Crime Lab parking garage.
Don't move! We got him! Mr.
Garcia, you have the right to remain silent.
Nice chatting with you.
You have the right to speak to an attorney.
If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided So, Garcia was on the take? According to the Feds, he stole the software to Dragga Financial's online trading system and was brokering a sale to some contacts in Caracas.
But he had it all on his laptop.
So, when it got stolen, he panicked.
Finally managed to hunt it down in Sass Dumonde's apartment and took it back.
Along with her life.
** What are you listening to? Sass Dumonde.
This is that track that the professor and Adam were talking about.
I downloaded it from her Web site.
It's pretty catchy, don't you think? It's not bad.
She definitely had some talent.
Yeah, not to mention technology.
Think about it.
A few of these and a laptop, and she's able to write, record her own music, post it online for millions of people to hear, and then text and video-chat with God knows how many more.
Well, that's great, but how long before more is too much? I don't know, but you know, we already opened the 21st century, Danny.
I think it's too late to send it back.
Yeah, well, you're probably right about that, but just to be clear, though, Lucy is never going near a computer, okay? Just, ever.
Okay.
But she does have, uh, a laptop lab at her preschool, and she can use my iPhone better than I can.
Damn it.
prides itself on integrity does not tolerate B.
S.
You think you're irreplaceable here in this lab? Why would you defy You're on three days suspension.
** All right.
Whoa.
Look who it is.
It's Obi-Wannabe Kenobi.
Ooh, you got to be hurting a little bit today, huh, man? I got a, uh, you know, three-day suspension.
- It's pretty painful.
- Ah, come on.
Hacking after Mac told you not to? You're lucky he didn't suspend you from the flagpole out front.
Yeah, you go home, lick your wounds, catch up on your soaps.
You'll be fine.
Yeah, you'll be back kicking Jedi ass before the end of the week.
I can't hear you.
Arr Hey there You got to be kidding me.
What are the odds, right? Hey, I was just doing some final research before we close the case.
Some serious scientific analysis, I'm sure.
Of course.
Oh, since I've got you I sent all the files from Garcia's laptop to the Bureau.
They were extremely appreciative.
Said it would probably drive the final nail into Dragga's coffin.
Well, it nearly drove it into Adam's.
Bet that conversation wasn't fun.
He defied a direct order.
It had to be done.
Bet he was wishing you had a "next" button in your office.
As a matter of fact, I do, and it's right here.
- You wouldn't.
- I might.
Not if I next you first.